William opened his eyes as his breathing had begun to fail, constricting his chest in a tight grip. The same haunting memory, that for the last seven years had plagued his dreams almost every night, had once again tormented his sleep. By looking through the small wooden window in his bedroom, he could clearly tell that the sun had risen not too long ago; in fact, only a handful of people, usually starting their long and exhausting day, were marching in those deserted streets.

William, on the other hand, had gotten to bed just three hours ago, for he hunted wild animals in the surrounding forests outside the large city he was living in. Giant boars with very sharp, and dangerous, tusks were his favourite preys amongst the vast game that nature so gracefully offered to anyone brave enough to try. But that doesn’t mean he stopped there. Anything that could potentially be sold, through the local butcher that lived right behind the corner, or the more dangerous contacts that he had in Low Town, had contributed to pay the man that took him into his house years after he had become an orphan.

Thinking back at those dark times, when William had joined the other street rats, a hateful and dirty terminology that was used by “normal people” to describe children that were forced to live on the streets without anyone caring for them, he remembered all the encounters he had with death. In fact, it was half a miracle that he had managed to stay alive for so long in those cruel conditions. However, the price he paid to achieve that had been very sad indeed. The giant boulder of guilt that weighted constantly on his shoulders, never leaving his side even for a single moment, was something that the vast majority of people would never come close to understand. And that boulder was very heavy indeed.

More than once he had saw children, from varying degrees of age, die slowly by succumbing to strange diseases that silently killed from the inside, or by the more common starvation. To this day, he still felt as if it was his fault that they had died. Twisted as it was, he felt as if he was the one at fault, instead of those that had simply ignored them. But he couldn’t let the guilt overcome him. Not when he had a job to do in the morning.  

After recomposing the thick shell in which he buried all of his dark past and negative thoughts, William got up and washed his face using a basket of water that he kept by his uncomfortable, and rough, bed. The crystal-clear liquid, which was surprisingly cold, ran down his young appearance and jolted awake every single nerve, pushing back the immense tiredness that engulfed him completely in its embrace. Then, changing his worn-out bed clothes with a set of leather armor that had seen much better days, he opened the bedroom door and headed to the entrance.

Every time that he had trouble sleeping, be it by the constant nightmares that came to see him every once in a while, or by some physical pain that made resting impossible, he took a stroll around. That simple act of walking without sparing a thought to anything, or anyone, had the effect of calming his mind from all the problems that afflicted him. And that day wasn’t any different.

However, before he could reach the door, a man’s voice, rough and cavernous, stopped him in his track. “Where are going, boy?” said the man from his resting place, inside the room on the left.

    “…I’m going to stroll around. Don’t worry. I won’t be causing any problems.”

    “I…know.” replied the man. An evident yawn left his body before he could finish the phrase. “But come back in an hour. We have to sell all those animals that we hunted last night. And don’t forget to keep your mouth shut, in case some guards will stop you to ask some questions.”

    “I know. You don’t have to remind me every single time.”

    “Instead, I have to!” shouted the man, feeling like the child that he took with himself all those years ago wasn’t taking things seriously. “I have already lost my right hand when I was caught poaching by some…pig of noble. And I don’t fancy losing the other just because you don’t wanna listen. So, as I was saying, don’t look for trouble and keep a low profile.”

    “…Alright, old man.” replied William, knowing full well when to concede an argument. He understood from the get go that the rough side of his “saviour” was the thing that had allowed his survival in that cruel world; he also understood why he was all those years ago.  

The man in question didn’t take him in because he felt some kind of pity, or to uphold some moral high ground that he held particularly at heart. No. He did it because he saw a fire hot as the sun burn inside those striking hazel eyes that had started to sink inside his small and depleted body. “This child could make it…” thought the man when he met William for the first time, all those years ago. He could clearly see, even through the dirt that sticked to his body like a second layer of skin, and the non-existent body fat, that the little man was still holding the indomitable will to survive. And that trait was the thing that convinced him. What followed was history…

William knew all of that. What he failed to understand was the constant reminder that was always thrown into him. It’s not like he ever caused major concerns about his discretion that could have explained that attitude towards him. Why then was he always subjected to that treatment?

Time passed quickly, but no one had nothing else to add. The small discussion had already ended. While he stood still for a couple of seconds thinking about it all, he grabbed an apple with his left hand from the pile on the small wooden table to quiet the sudden hunger that had suddenly manifested. A deafening silence, loud enough to make his ear drums tremble, descended on the living quarters. But try as they might, neither of them seemed to find the will to continue that brief exchange of words. So, taking a large bite from the green fruit he was holding, he went out, leaving his saviour with his bitter mood.

Just as he had suspected, the roads were almost completely deserted. Although he resided in Middle Town, one of three areas in which the city was divided into, only a handful of people were awake and actively starting their day. A different story was the man that owned the bakery inside the white building up ahead. He usually got up way before the sun was peeking over the horizon, warming the big oven in which he cooked a myriad of pastries with his rough, but experienced hands.

While finishing what was left of the apple, William’s eyes focused ahead, where he saw a familiar column of white smoke coming out one of the many chimneys that dotted the dark coloured roofs that every building seemed to endlessly replicate. The delicious scent of bread, cookies, and baked goods that was filling the air, draw an irresistible trail that he willingly followed.

In the short distance that separated him with the familiar man that baked the best delicacies in town, he tried to empty his mind by taking slow and deep breaths that filled his lungs with clear and fresh morning air. The only thing that ever managed to delete, or at least cloud the darkest thoughts that constantly tried to take over his mind, was looking at the scenery, especially at that time of the day where nobody could disturb him. He always found that act to be…liberating, even if for a brief time. In that small space of mind, no one could disrupt the fragile peace that he tried to obtain. It was him, and just him. At least, that was his conviction.

Suddenly, as if it wanted to bother him on purpose, a little sparrow that was resting nearby, with its brown feathers that resembled autumn leaves, looked at him before raking flight in the vast sky.

As the peace that he had constructed fell apart, William raised his gaze, following for a little while that minuscule animal that soared the sky in such a graceful and coordinated way that could make anyone jealous. Before he could stop it, a sense of hatred manifested inside his mind, because he felt something that believed to be forever out of his reach: Freedom.

Freedom from all that hate, directed at others and at himself. Freedom from all those memories that never gave him a moment to rest no matter who much he wished it. And freedom to have his so much sought revenge on the beasts that had so cruelly slaughter his peaceful village. Instead, he was trapped in a reality that constricted his movements, in a place where wars were waged as easily as eating.

Shaking away the last thoughts of that damned bird, that almost succeeded in ruining his day before the sun had completely risen, William resumed walking, cursing it in no uncertain terms.

Eventually, he reached the place were that wonderful fragrance was being produced. He didn’t even have time to step inside that a familiar voice greeted him warmly. “William! What the hell are you doing up this early? Poor boy has trouble sleeping?” asked the baker, clearly joking with him.

    “No. I just fucking missed your punchable face.” replied William with a dark grin plastered around his face.

The baker, which was called Henry, had a big, round belly that gave him an imposing figure that could have intimidated many though looking men. But the wholesome laugh that had engulfed him just mere moments before, destroyed that façade in a heartbeat. “It’s one of those days, eh? Well, have some of these.” said Henry while grabbing the straw basket that he used to store the fresh cooked bread. “It might do wonders for your mood. Alas, it won’t fix your bad temper.”

    “I don’t think that’s possible. But thanks anyway.”

After grabbing one bun and taking a big mouthful, William purchased a sack of bread full to the brim that would later deliver to the orphans that lived just like he used to. Even if he hid very well his emotions behind the though persona that he wore every day, and that he had constructed with sheer will, he still had a soft spot for the little rascals, because he too had suffered the same hellish life; and while he couldn’t offer them a way out of that miserable existence, he did everything in his power to keep them fell fed. Even at his own expense. “Alright.” said William after finishing the delicious bun and paying the baker with his hard-earned money. “I better get going. See you soon, Henry.”

    “Wait!” screamed Henry as he tried to stop him in his tracks with all his might. “I have something to tell you.”

William stopped. What did Henry have to tell him so urgently? Did something happen while he was out in the forests? Intrigued, and also a little worried, William put down the sack that he was holding on his shoulders. Then, with a perplexed look drawn on his face, he turned back and stared at him.

    “Do you know Alain? The guard with a scar across his face?” asked Henry, keeping a low voice even if there wasn’t a living soul nearby.

    “…No. I don’t exactly interact with law men. And you know exactly why…”

    “Well, in any case, he said something yesterday night while I was out drinking. ‘Said that they are tracking down a band of poachers. That they managed to get a glimpse at a masculine figure inside the forest nearby. Of course, he got a good beating by his fellow guards for his lousy mouth, but that doesn’t change anything. Half the patrons had already heard.”

William managed to maintain the veil of complete calm that surrounded his face. But deep inside, he felt agitated by this sudden turn of event, already knowing where that discussion was headed. “…Did they have any suspects?”

    “No. You’re lucky. And to be honest, I don’t even know if it was they saw. After all, you’re not the only one wandering those woods in the middle of the night.” replied Henry, almost screaming with relief. “But tell the old bastard to hunt and sell out of town for a while. I believe things are going to become dangerous if you keep going.”

    “…I’ll keep that in mind…” said William, keeping eye contact. To a third person he would appear focused on the discussion he was having with the baker. His eyes gave no other indication that this might have not been the case. But in reality, his mind was already racing with all the possible problems that could have manifested in the following days, or even hours if he was unlucky. That sudden information was so overwhelming that he would have been lost forever in that endless train of thoughts, if it wasn’t for the sudden movement that caught his eyes.

Standing right beside the door that led to the upstairs living quarters, stood a woman that had the same aura of the baker. She had a robust body, with well-toned muscles that peeked right under the night dress she was wearing; also, the stern expression that she was wearing on her face didn’t contribute in creating a more feminine appearance. “Keep it down!” she whispered in angry, yet controlled tone. “Or you’ll wake the troublemakers.”

    “…Sorry.” replied Henry looking sincerely apologetic. He loved his sons to the maximum, but raising them was…tiring, to say the least. If they had waked up already…

Henry felt a shiver ran down his spine just thinking about it.

The woman, who was clearly his wife, sighed and turned back to walk upstairs, closing the wooden door that had a ruined corner. “…Well, that’s it.” said the baker, this time keeping his tone as soft as possible. “Just be careful out there.”

     “’will do.” answered William absentmindedly. “You too.”

Shortly after, William walked out while sparing a last glance at the man that produced some of the best bakery products in all the county. Or at least, that was what he advertised every time a new client walked in his shop.

Back into the cold streets, William walked in a steady pace. Before long, after ten, or maybe fifteen minutes, he reached the infamous Low Town, where the street rats and every person who barely made a living, resided. If he had chance, he would stay clear of that cursed part of town. Too many bad memories were tied with the poverty and desperation that seethed in every corner, in every building. The only thing that managed to give him enough strength to come back was his purpose: he was headed towards an abandoned building that had holes big as cannonballs in its walls, where long vines had taken over what was once a living space; inside lived, or better, survived, every child that had lost is family due to some gory events that were better left untold, or was left to die in the streets by some undeserving parents.

While William had lost his family in a gory way too, he didn’t find refuge with the group that resided there. These dark times where he had felt extremely lucky every time he had found something that could fill the immense void that had formed in his little belly, belonged to another city, another life. He didn’t remember the exact moment when he, and the man that saved him from almost certain death, had left behind that cursed place where his mind and body were scarred in a new, and everlasting, way. But he recalled like it was yesterday the many fights he had to win just to stay alive for another, agonizing day.

The desperation, the hunger that had made his stomach contort in a painful dance, and the oppressive agony that had tortured his mind when he had witnessed another child succumb to that hellish existence, were things that he desperately wanted to erase from his memory. But no matter what he tried; they never went away. He was cursed to remember that hell until he exhaled his final breath. He was branded by hell. And hell would never let him leave.

The children in Low Town, whom he had met a couple of years prior by pure chance, were another story. They shared some traits with his tragic story: they too knew very well that pain, the single sensation that managed to make people feel alive, and desire death at the same time, was something that they would experience in their lives. But unlike him, they always had something to eat, be it by stealing or any other method required. They also cared for each other as a big, tight family. Something that William had never experienced in their place. To be honest, he was glad that in their misery, they didn’t have to behold what could a lonely and desperate child could do. Because he knew it damn well…

Once William had gained their trust and was allowed to visit their shed, he gave them enough food to keep them from always stealing, which was too risky, thanks to the unforgiving law that didn’t take into consideration what they were going through. The week that followed, he did the same. And the week after.

From that first time, a lot of water went under the bridges, but he still kept doing it like his life depended on it. And that day wasn’t any different.

At last, after turning right for the umpteenth time, he finally reached his destination. However, something was amiss.

The building, with his many faults in sight for all to see, looked worse than it did since his last visit. The roof, which was already half destroyed, now had collapsed inwards, bending in an unnatural shape that was dangerous just looking at it. The windows, with their wooden axes, were hanging from one side, precariously risking to fall off every time a wind strong enough breezed through. But any of those problems paled in comparison to the damage the structure had sustained as a whole: the holes, which were already big, now reached almost twice their previous dimensions. What in the hell had happened? Did someone storm that disaster of a building?

William immediately sprinted, feeling his heart climb steadily in his throat and ignoring the empty stares he received from the few people that were nearby. He would have never admitted, especially to those little rascals, but he cared for them in a way he had never thought possible. And the fear that something horrible might have happened while he was away, was eating him alive.

When he reached the entrance, or what was left standing of it, William jumped inside, ignoring the terrible noises that the structure was emitting in its low, guttural voice. But he didn’t care. His mind was already busy picturing the worst possible scenario to calculate a safe passage to explore the debris that laid from left to right in every direction. It was obvious that he was concretely endangering his life. But in truth, he didn’t care. The scars that ran deeply, beyond the layers of skin that composed his body, had managed at times to suppress the sense of danger that every other human being possessed from birth. Not that he was suicidal in those situations. He just…didn’t care about it.

To the umpteenth empty room, after searching every corner, from the lowest floor to the highest one, he gave up. The fact that every little thing that was in their possession was gone was a clear indication that they had already vacated that death trap. A sense of relief made him close his eyes. “At least that means they should be okay…” though William, even if he still felt a sense of unease.

Suddenly, with his eyes still closed, a thin rain of dust fell from the cracked ceiling and landed on his face. William didn’t even need to look up, for he understood what was going to happen if he kept staying inside. So, running down as if being chased by some invisible enemy, he skipped over the massive rocks and the many obstacles the he found in his trail with agile manoeuvres. The building, it seemed, was tired to stand on his own.

                                                                        //////

William came out just mere moments before the building almost collapsed inward. The ceiling, or the carcass that resembled it, was so deteriorated that it had reached the inevitable breaking point, disintegrating into thousands tiny fragments that filled the air in a thick dust.

The road surface slowly begun to change colour as dust fell down, oozing out the broken windows like a raging river. But William was the only one whose clothes were covered in it. The few people that he had saw mere moments before he had entered, left in a bloody hurry when the old, and worn-out structure had begun to tremble.

After a couple of minutes, when everything had calmed down and things started to normalize again, William stood up from the crouched stance that he had gotten into. A thin layer of dust, which has settled on his clothes, making them assume a strange coloration, fell off like rain, irritating the already altered state he was in. And he would have given in to anger, if he hadn’t heard a masculine voice coming from behind him. A voice that he instantly recognized. “…What are you doing? We left that latrine a couple of days ago already.” said the young man, which had brown hair that reached his shoulders.

William turned around and looked at him with narrowed eyes. After all the trouble that he just went through, there stood one the orphans. He just stood there, judging him as if he were a shill. “How was I to know, smartass?” asked William without masking his annoyance. “It’s not like I come here every day.”

    “I know.” replied the lad smirking. “It still doesn’t change the fact that you look like a rat right now.”

    “Very funny. Now come here and help me out, before I kick your ass.” said William, looking him straight in the eyes. It was clear that his patience, which was already growing thin after everything that had happened that morning, was nearing its end.

The lad stared at him for a long couple of seconds that seemed to last an eternity. Then, while sighing heavily, he lowered his gaze. “No need to look at me like that. I was just joking with you. But I guess I would be kinda nervous after coming out of that.”

William, instead of wasting his energies in an endless rant that he could feel was on the verge of coming out, decided instead to calm down. He inhaled some deep breaths, fortunately after the dust had already stopped raining down, filling and emptying the lungs. Then, when his heartbeat had receded back to a somewhat normal pace, he began to brush his clothes with his not so clean hands, in a last attempt to regain a somewhat presentable appearance. An almost impossible task, given the state his clothes were in, but he sort of managed.

At last, when the last bit of dust broke away, he proceeded to lift the food that he had purchased earlier, throwing it once again over his shoulders. Then, and only then, he looked at his young companion straight in the eyes, asking to be taken where they had moved in.

    “Follow me.” said the young man, who William knew as Anthony. He was the oldest amongst the group that lived in those precarious conditions, even if William had completely ignored this when he first had met him. Judging by his looks, he had what many would have described as a common appearance, from the fair tone of his skin to the dark shades of the iris that resembled the mahogany tree. Everything about him seemed to picture a perfectly normal looking teen. However, there was something that made him stood out from a crowd: a scar that ran on his left eyebrow was marking his delicate facial features. “We found another abandoned building down this road, where the guards usually don’t dare to go.” said Anthony as he kept on walking. “Or they don’t care. Anyway, it’s not exactly a safe haven, but at least for now we have a roof over our heads that won’t try to kill us at every opportunity. It’s better than nothing.”

     “…How are the others? Have you had any problems lately?” asked William, that still felt some apprehension towards their fate. The fact that he had such a troubled morning certainly didn’t help his nerves.

Just by naming the other children, William saw Anthony’s mood grew dark and cold, as if a thick veil of pure angst had surrounded him to the core. He didn’t say a word, but it wasn’t even necessary. Something had clearly happened.

    “What’s wrong?” asked William in a forceful manner, for he saw immediately that sudden change in his behaviour. His heart, that he had just successfully calmed down, began to beat again in a frenzy.

Anthony initially tried to be evasive, to mask his sudden change as if he was just tired. But the badly fabricated lie that he had carefully constructed, fell to ears completely deaf to that kind of attitude.

William was never the kind of man that would force his way on another person; especially not on those weaker than him. But in a situation like that one, were he perceived a gut wretch feeling, he pressed the matter. “Anthony.” said William, squeezing his shoulder in a tight grip. It was a clear sign that he was dead serious. “Tell me exactly what’s wrong.”

    “Don’t try to…” tried to confidently reply Anthony. However, the hard gaze that stared back at him made him stop before he could finish his sentence. A good thing, maybe. “Tell me…” repeated William, maintaining his hold steady. At that point, Anthony had no other option than giving up. Weaving a metaphorically white flag, he sighed heavily one final time, making his shoulders sag. Then, finding courage, he proceeded to recount what was weighing down on his fragile mind.

By the shaking his body slowly emitted constantly, and the tremble that his voice had just taken on, William deduced that he wasn’t going to like what was going to be told. He initially tried to remain calm, to be the unmoving pillar that could sustain the burden that was weighing heavily on Anthony’s shoulders; but all his good intentions would soon fall apart with a loud thud when the truth hit him at full force.

    “…Do you remember Annie? The little girl that joined us some months ago?”

    “Yes…” replied William, picturing the small frame and the peculiar red hair that Annie had.

    “Well…” he continued to recount, always avoiding eye contact. “She tried to steal some trinkets up in High Town. I don’t know why she did that, but it didn’t end well. I tried to stop her so many times, but she didn’t listen. The guards down here usually keep an eye close, maybe even both, as long as you don’t cause too much trouble. At most, you get away with a couple of slaps. But in High Town it’s completely different. Up there they don’t care. They just beat people like us, even for something insignificant.”

William’s eyes darkened, as if the sunlight that was lightening the morning sky couldn’t reflect its warmth in his iris. Inside him, the beast that he always tried to keep contained was trying in all of its strength to break free. “…Are you telling me…”

    “Yes!” screamed Anthony, who had reached his breaking point. Tears begun to fall freely upon his face. “They beat her up. Badly! Her arm, her leg, her eyes. Everything is swollen! She could die if I don’t find a way to help her! But nobody in this fucking town cares about…”

    “Who?” His voice had gone down a notch.  

    “…What do you mean, who? I’m talking about Annie!”

    “That’s not what I mean…”

    “What are…” Anthony began to ask, before losing the ability to speak. When he gazed at him, the aura that had enveloped William’s body made him freeze in total fear. The sheer amount of violence and blood lust that William was so unconsciously emitting, would have been enough to break even the strongest will to tatters. “Who was it?” asked William, seething with rage.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    “I…I…” tried to reply Anthony, without success. His lips were quivering up and down, as if words wanted to come out of his mouth. But it seemed he had lost the ability to speak properly.

    “Don’t be alarmed.” said William, trying to reign himself into a calmer appearance. He had enough clarity of mind, even in that disturbed state he was in, to realize how…unsettling his demeanour could appear. Especially to a young man like Anthony. “I’m not going to harm you. I just want you to tell me everything you know about that…guard”. That last word came out with difficulty.

    “I…don’t know his name. No one in our group does. I could sort of describe him, however. Annie managed to memorize his appearance before fainting under…,” said Anthony, before suddenly going mute. The image of Annie’s body, so bruised and battered from head to toe, took his breath away. The fear that she could die, and the helplessness he felt in the face of that desperate situation, risked to eat away his mental sanity in a heartbeat. How could a man, be it a guard or any other, almost beat a little girl to death just because she’s forced to steal as a way to survive? What kind of man was that?

    “…If that’s the case, it can wait. Annie must be the priority. First, we’ll go to your new hideout, so I can deliver those.” said William, indicating with his free hand the sack he was carrying on his shoulders. “Then I’ll take Ann with me to a place I know. And you’ll also be tagging along.”

    “You’re not taking Annie.” replied in such a confident tone that even he was surprised. “She cannot leave her bed. It could kill her!”

    “The state she’s in is exactly why she’ll be coming with me. I’ll take her to a woman I trust. She’s a physician. Well…sort of.”

Anthony was dumbfounded. Even if he was young, and had much more to experience in his life, he for sure knew the impossibility of it all. Physicians, after all, were really expensive. And his ramshackle gang was beyond poor. “We cannot pay for treatment! Did you forg…”

    “I’ll pay for the treatment, and whatever other thing she might need during her stay.”

    “…Wha…? Why would you do that?” asked Anthony surprised. Even though he somewhat trusted William after all the help he offered to the children, he couldn’t help to be suspicious. Too many times the people in that town, and the one he lived prior, had punished him both physically and mentally for things he didn’t even commit. He still remembered vividly every wound he had been forced to endure in silence, without anyone who would have cared about him. In all honesty, it was almost a miracle that he had managed to trust William when he first met him. But trusting him because of the free food he delivered was one thing. Trusting him with the life of Annie was another. Why would he make that offer? What could he gain be doing so?

    “…Shut up. It’s none of your business.” said William turning around. If Anthony wanted to have some answers, now wasn’t the time. Not that he would tell him anyway. “Show me the way. And be quick.”

                                                                         //////

To claim that the facility where the children had moved was in pristine conditions, would have been an outright lie. Still, it was an evident improvement from the decrepit, dangerous, and caved death trap they previously lived in. For instance, the structure itself didn’t have giant holes in the walls, even though cracks longer than wagons ran from top to bottom. Fortunately, for what William could see, it was just aesthetic damage that didn’t pose a threat to them.

However, the doors, windows, and interiors were surprisingly in good condition for an old, and abandoned for who knows how long, building.

    “Here we are…” said Anthony calmly. “By far, it’s not perfect. But, if nothing else, it’s better than laying out in the open. It could be worse. Waaaay worse.”

    “I know.” said William, as he approached the threshold of the entrance.

    “How could you know?” replied Anthony. A pang of frustration was evident in the way he spoke. “Have you ever felt the misery we live in every day, even for a fraction of your life? No. So don’t try to tell me you know what it feels like.”

William fell silent as an insane number of memories, buried deep inside him, begun to resurface all at once with overwhelming brute force; but William, who had built a thick shell to find shelter from his turbulent past, and that didn’t want to break now that he was needed, drove them back down into the depths from which they had come from.

At that point, having regained himself, he turned around and stared at his young “friend” for a long, couple of seconds. “…I have experienced a lot of pain in my life. Pain that has changed me forever into a person I barely recognize in the mirror. So, believe me when I tell you that I understand where you’re coming from.” Then, as an oppressing silence fell on them, he entered with a plodding step, living Anthony astounded once again.

                                                                     //////

A lot of children, to many to keep track off, were scattered all over the place. Some were laying in a pile of rugs that they used as bedding, desperately trying to rest for the few hours they had at their disposal; others were going back and forth in an unknown task that seemed to completely occupy their young bodies and minds. However, all of them interrupted what they were doing when they heard the old metal hinges of the front door squeak in protest. An air of apprehension, and perhaps even danger, thick as melted iron, made its way between their little bodies, threatening to overwhelm their already frail nerves. The oldest among their group rushed in a heartbeat to the back room to get knives, as a mean to defend themselves against the potential enemy that was going to enter their home. Who was it? Was it the guards? Were they people who would harm them again?

But, when the stranger finally crossed the threshold of the door, everyone visibly relaxed, lowering their improvised weapons. The sudden sense of danger that had so quickly appeared, making them fear for their young and innocent lives, left just as quickly. They were safe.

“William!” screamed the younger ones, which went for a happy hug as soon he stepped inside.

That made him stop in his track. He couldn’t even take a single step inside before being surrounded and held in tight embrace by those little rascals that didn’t seem affected by the poverty they were in. The moment they landed on him, with their toothy smiles that had some missing teeth, the sheer amount of force he suddenly had to withstand risked to throw him into the ground. But thinking fast he managed to recover his balance, even if barely. “Hey! Calm down! You’re gonna make me fall!” said William. taking a precarious step back.

In all honesty, he wanted to appear stern, at least in front of them. He had always believed in putting a sort of wall between them, even if only for a selfish reason. It would have been better, for them both, if they didn’t develop ant type of attachment. The world, as he knew damn well, was in fact a cruel place that would punish such soft feelings in all its brutality. But the hint of smile that he didn’t manage to control, slowly raised the corners his mouth. He truly cared, in his own way, about them.

Only after a minute or so had passed, he managed to escape to a remote corner where he placed what he had been carrying with him. As soon as the sack full of food touched the floor, a young boy that had brown eyes and long hair that reached over his shoulders came in a flash as if he had appeared out of thin air. Before William could even stop him, the mysterious boy grabbed the supply with his small but steady hands, only to disappear underground as quick as he had come, thanks to a ruined flight of stairs nearby.

Even from the distance between them, William could clearly see that a few steps were broken, or were missing completely. So, worried about the boy’s wellbeing, he moved forward in an attempt to reach him. But a pair of hands he immediately recognized, stopped him in his tracks before he could try any action. They were Anthony’s. “Don’t. Let him do his thing in peace. He doesn’t like being watched by anyone. Even us for that matter. He’s a little strange, but he doesn’t hurt anyone. So…let him be.”

    “I’m just…” wanted to say William, but failing to continue. “Never mind. We have more pressing things to attend to.”

    “Follow me. We put Annie in the only bed left by the previous owners, in the most preserved room of them all. It’s on the second floor, where more sunlight can enter. I don’t think it’s going to help her condition, but it’s the cleanest room in the whole building.”

As they slowly climbed the stairs, Anthony carefully guided William through the holes and cracks that had made their way into the old wooden slabs. The more they climbed, the more the creaking started to turn into a new and terrifying lament, deep enough to make the skin crawl. William feared that the structure, already compromised in so many unfixable ways, would have buckled under his weight. Nevertheless, nothing of the sort ever happened. They simply reached the top without any trouble.

And there, after passing a long corridor, they finally entered where Annie was laying.

What William saw inside there, made his blood boil.   

                                                                          //////   

Annie was a little girl that had lost both her parents at an early age, thanks to a war that nobody wanted. A war that still raged to that day, and that would go on to take more lives before the weapons would stop oozing blood out of their cold bodies.

However, unlike many others in her position, she didn’t let the grief that accompanied her every waking moment win over her life. She didn’t give into despair as many before her had done. She didn’t lose herself in a torrent of pain and angst, even if it would have been the easiest thing to do. For that, and many other reasons, William held Annie in a special place inside his cold heart. She was a constant reminder of what he had failed to do: being strong.

Sure, physically speaking, William wasn’t weak by any means. If he had pushed himself to the limit, he wouldn’t have disfigured in a contest of strength. But while he had found the will to survive his own personal hell, he had sacrificed his best side to do so. Annie, on the other hand, did not. She was still sane.

Such was the admiration he felt for the little girl that the moment he saw her swollen body laying still, the rhythmic falling and raising of her chest the only hint that she was still alive, he snapped. An enormous, savage rage brooding in his being wanted to raze everything his eyes laid upon. His heart quickened in a racing pace while his right hand clenched with such force that the nails managed to pierce his callous skin, making gush a trickle of crimson liquid into the rough floor. If he had any uncertainty, now it was gone. The…man…responsible for that…barbarism, was going to pay. He didn’t know exactly how, or when. But he was adamantine on that belief. No one would be able to stop him. Not even divine intervention would have succeeded in it.   

Meanwhile, as William processed what his eyes were seeing, Anthony went to her bedside, cleaning with a piece of cloth that he had left nearby the dried blood that had formed in splatters on her bruised and swollen skin. He dipped the cotton scrap into the cold and crystalline water that one of his peers had fetched from the old well, the one that supplied a large quantity of it to the southern part of Low Town. Slowly, as he carefully applied even force, the dried patches of blood begun to rehydrate, smearing the cloth red. Every time it reached a state where it couldn’t clean anymore, Anthony washed it thoroughly, making the water turn to a reddish colour. Now the wounds were clearly visible, and the room fell into an oppressive silence. The only sound was that of the drops of water falling either on the ground or inside the bucket. They on the other hand almost didn’t even have the strength to breath. As oppressive as it was, it was a surreal moment that none wanted to ever repeat. If only it had been possible…

During the treatment, Annie laid still, with her eyes closed and her consciousness completely out of her reach. She reminded them both of a doll, with her delicate features that perfectly complimented her face and her otherwise porcelain skin. A doll that had been left to die in the mud, full of bruises and cuts, swallowed whole by the complete indifference of those people who proclaimed themselves superior. “…How long will it take?” said William, that had hidden his wounded hand under his shirt as soon as he had managed to conserve the hate for the man that had inflicted such suffering upon that innocent flower. “Make sure you tidy up fast. I don’t want to waste more time than strictly necessary. The sooner I can take her, the better it is.”

    “…It shouldn’t’ take long. Maybe five more minutes at most.” replied Anthony, with his eyes transfixed on the crimson water. “If you cannot stand the wait, then please watch over the children downstair. Maurice could use your help, even if he would never ask it. That little bastard is as though as proud.”

    “…Very well. I’ll wait for you downstair.”

    “Thank you. It’s not easy, you know? Watching over them, I mean.”

    “Of course it’s not. But you’re up to the task. I saw it.”

The conversation came to a lull as William slowly marched to the door. “…Don’t take too long. We have a lot to do and little time to do it.”

    “Yeah.” replied Anthony in a tired manner. “You just told me.”

    “…Alright. Later.”

With that, William got out the room and marched downstair with light feet, already remembering the cursed stair he couldn’t avoid whatsoever. The same damned sensation that he felt climbing, also manifested itself in the descent, making the otherwise simple act of walking on a flight of stairs a lot more difficult than normal. He had to go down step to step, with his back pressed on the wall, to hold back the fear of falling through. In the end however, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, he managed to touch the level ground in complete safety.

The commotion that had greeted him minutes before, had almost died down completely now. Only a couple of children, the younger and free-spirited ones, were still roaming around; the others instead were busy completing various tasks that had to be done before “lunch”, if you could call it that.

If William hadn’t lived that reality on his own skin, he would have been fooled by the apparent normality that seemed to reign within those crumbling walls that had long since been abandoned. The impression that this wasn’t a depressing reality, but instead a loving family, was very much alive in his mind. However, he quickly dissipated that illusion.

He fully knew that wasn’t the case, as he was conscious of the horrors those children had to face every single day. So he decided to help, however little he could.

For example, his eyes landed on a group of boys that were busy cleaning a room on the far left of the building from countless trash that had piled up in years and years of neglect. A lot of people from Low Town had used the building as a dumping ground, throwing inside whatever they wished, from small things to bigger ones. And if the children were destined to find shelter amongst those walls, even for a couple of months, a general cleansing was a must.

In the couple of days where they had settled in, much work had already been done from the initial uproar that had greeted them. The floors, along with other things that hadn’t taken much time, had been cleaned already. But the heavy objects that still cluttered up space, still needed to be removed, or at the very least moved to a more suitable environment, outside their reach. That was exactly what the kid called Maurice asked him to do. “Move these things out the way. They’re too heavy for us.”

    “…Did you try to move them?” asked William shocked.

    “Yes.”

    “Couldn’t you ask…know what? Never mind.” 

William immediately begun to lift the heaviest objects that he was able to find, throwing them into a hole that had formed in the floor of the room next door. The more the floor was cleared of such things, the cosier the space seemed. If nothing else, they were now not in danger of hurting themselves every single moment.

After five, or maybe ten minutes of that kind of labour, Anthony finally appeared from upstairs. On his back he was carrying Annie, with his hands tight behind him in a solid embrace. “Let’s go. We’re ready.”

    “…How’s she?”

    “She’s holding up…”

That sudden suspense didn’t fall on deaf ears. It was obvious that her condition needed professional care if she wanted a chance to recover, and William was going to provide it, whatever the cost. He would have not allowed it to be otherwise.

                                                                          //////

The trio had left behind the dark corners of Low Town, heading towards the more refined and certainly better-looking views of High Town. Under normal circumstances, they would have stood out in that richer part of town, where only the wealthiest and the nobles resided. But William knew how to avoid being noticed if he so desired.

The long nights that he had spent hunting into the woods had thought him a few hard lessons that would forever accompany him. One of them was stealth.

By walking closely to the walls, were the shadows offered some quietness from the now bustling streets, William and his group managed to avoid much of the inquisitive stares to which they surely would have been subjected if they had walked in the open. The crowd, at least in that corrupted and self-centred environment, was sorely composed of people who had a disparaging attitude towards the less well-off. Of course, it wasn’t an attitude exclusive to that city. In the few trips William had made to neighbouring cities, he had seen how much the city in which he lived wasn’t a reality unto itself, but just another sick cell of a disease that had spread everywhere. And William, knowing that he didn’t have both time and patience to waste with a pompous bastard looking for trouble, carefully avoided anyone who crossed his path.

It took about twenty minutes to reach the shop where he was going to find help. It was a building that he had visited many times in the last couple of years, mainly to acquire some ingredients that were useful in his line of work, often asking the owner for advice. She was a woman about forty, with a character strong as any man and the blondest hair he had ever seen; not to mention the eyes. Not so much about the colour, which was a green tending towards blue, but the sheer amount of commanding presence they constantly emitted could make any man bend under its weight.

Those same pair of eyes were the first things William saw upon entering, being greeted by the familiar and stacked to the brim sea of shelves that were overflowing with glass cans.

    “I need your help.” said William, rushing inside.

The woman silently stood up from the stool on which she was sitting and walked right under his nose, staring hard at him. “What the hell did you say? Were the hell did you leave your manners, boy?” demanded the woman, remarking the last word with some force. She didn’t care what was going on. If he wanted her help, he had to ask nicely and with proper manners.

William flinched. He had always hated that…damned nickname that she had given him, even from the first time he had heard it. And that woman, which was called Marygold, a fitting name given her hair colour, always made sure to use it, even just to irk him. She always found that sight to be very…entertaining. “I’m sorry, alright?” said William, having lost some of his temperance. “But I have an emergency.”

    “So I can see…” she replied while her gaze focused on the two children that were behind his back. Even if she knew almost everyone in town, she couldn’t recognize them. “So, who are these little two? Also, care to tell me what the hell happened?”

    “Take care of her first, please? I’ll tell you everything after she received aid. I’ll pay whatever sum you’ll want as payment.”

    “All right, boy. Take her to the back. I’ll join you in a little bit.”

    “…Thank you.”

    “Don’t. Now let’s see what I’m working with.”

As she finished talking, she turned around and quickly disappeared behind a curtain that led in her basement, where she stored all sort of products.

William and Anthony could hear a vast variety of noises coming from underground as they marched inside the back room where Marygold had told them to wait inside, but they decided to ignore them. Instead, they focused on laying Annie on the bed with outmost care, making sure she wouldn’t wake up, even if the chance of it was almost null.

There, Anthony’s face filled with hope. The environment filled to the brim with anointings and ampoules he had never seen before, strangely reassured him. Even though it was the first time he had seen that woman and no way of ascertain her capabilities, he felt inside that he could trust her. And that feeling scared him. In his world, trust was a thing that was going to get him killed. Trust was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Could he really lower his defences? Could he trust her? Could he really leave Annie in her care? What if…

Suddenly he felt a hand grip lightly his shoulder, interrupting his whirlpool of dangerous questions. It was William’s. “…Calm down. She can appear as a though and cold woman, but she’s quite the opposite if you get on her good side. She’ll help her in no time.”  

Exactly in that moment, Marygold finally reappeared. In her hands she was clutching a couple of glass canisters that were filled with mysterious poultices that didn’t exactly seem healthy. “Now, let’s see what can I do for this child. Remove her clothes while I prepare myself.” she commanded as she went to wash her hands in the fresh bucket of water she always kept within reach.

William bent down and grasped Annie gently to easily remove her stained clothes. When they finished removing even the last layer, they clearly saw for the first time the endless constellation of bruises and lacerations that had formed on her delicate body. At that sight, William grasped the hand that he had already tortured, squeezing his wrist in a tight grip. It was as if he wanted to take away her pain by making it his own, lacerating his flesh in a macabre ritual. He could feel his blood boiling in an endless rage that wanted nothing than destruct. But before he could even think of trying any self-destructive technique, a violent slap reached him on the back of the head, making him advance forward. “What the fuck did you do to your hand?” asked angrily Marygold, having caught a glimpse of the wound he had inflicted on his palm.

    “…Nothing. I just gripped myself a bit too hard.”

    “Dammit boy! Come over here.” she replied, even if William tried to protest. But she had none of it. She turned around and grabbed a glass container, the one filled with a greenish paste that slightly resembled musk by the colour. When she removed the lid, the pungent odor that was trapped inside for God knows how long, spread like wildfire across the room. “What the hell is that?” asked William with a grimace painted on his face. “There’s no way that’s healthy.”

    “Like I care what you think. Now take some of this and rub it on the wound. It will prevent infections.”

    “…Are you going to use this on the girl?”

    “I may or I may not. It all depends on the condition of her body and the severity of her injuries. Anyways, the sooner I’ll be done with your fucking stupidity, the sooner I can start her treatment. So, get a moving, alright?”

    “…”

After a couple of seconds where William felt some distrust versus that suspicious substance, he gave up in front of the imposing and authoritative figure he had in front of him, waving an imaginary white flag. He reluctantly slipped two fingers inside, doing his best to ignore the slimy sensation he immediately perceived, grabbing enough of it to cover his injury evenly. Then, moving to the window on the left to get out of the way, he rubbed it in until the skin started to ache.

When he had finished with that slimy substance, his focus immediately returned to his precious little friend.

He saw Marygold kneel right beside Annie’s body, and observe with eagle eyes every single wound that needed her care. She checked every cut that had already started to heal, every bump that dotted her skin, and any other injury that needed attention. Only after a couple of minutes of that scrutiny she spoke again. “We need to cleanse her injuries before anything else. Right now, she is in a sort of feverish state, judging by her temperature. It isn’t high enough to create concerns, but it still needs to be addressed. Her arm however, is another story. It’s clearly broken. Fortunately, during my inspection, it seems to be a set fracture, which is a blessing, all things considered. It’s much easier to mend that kind of damage than fragmented ones.”

    “…How long will it take to heal?” asked William, who could hardly maintain control.

    “…Around four…to six weeks, if she’ll behave well.”

    “Wait.” said Anthony, who had been silent. “She’s going to be alright? Isn’t she in danger of dying?”

    “Of course not!” replied Marygold looking at him straight in the eyes as if he had said something absurd. “I’m going to take her under my wing, so she can get better in no time. It would be another story if you didn’t reach out to me.”

Marygold stood up and went to grab a lot of linen bandages from the wooden wardrobe near the wall on the right. She also grabbed some ointments that she would later apply to the damaged skin, to somewhat soothe the pain during her recovery. “Hold her steady.” she commanded as she laid everything on the counter nearby. “I’m going to apply some pressure on the arm, to be sure that the bone is in the correct position to heal perfectly.”

As she said those words, Anthony and William immediately moved in position, making sure to hold Annie in a firm grip. What followed made Anthony inevitably flinch.

Marygold grabbed the arm that needed her care and, positioning herself so that she could exert the correct application of force, begun to pull. In less than a couple of seconds everyone inside that back room heard a deep, dry sound: the bone had returned to the original position.

    “Alright. That went well.” stated Marygold as she released her grip. A smirk developed on her delicate features. As much as she wanted to maintain a certain detachment, she couldn’t help but feel proud of the work she just did. “Now you boys can wait outside as I patch her up. She will need to stay under my care for some weeks until she recovers, but I’m fairly certain that the she will completely recover. Now go! And don’t go anywhere! You have a lot of explaining to do.”

    “How much do I owe you?”

Marygold shushed him. “Not now! We’ll talk about that later.”

    “…But I…”

    “No but!”

    “…Alright.”

Feeling like they would have been a burden if they had stayed, they set off outside. They would have to wait and bring a good deal of patience before she completed her treatments; but none of that mattered. They had succeeded. They saved Annie. And one could take that from them.

                                                                          //////

An hour had passed before Marygold had finished her business, leaving Annie to rest under a soft blanket. She had patched up all the injuries she had sustained with careful handiwork, wetting piecing of bandages with fresh blood. Having to dispose of such scraps, she got up and left the room, aware that she also had to discuss with her young guests. But when she stepped into the entrance hall of her shop, confusion hit her.

Anthony was the only one left inside that room. William instead was nowhere to be seen. Yet she remembered clearly that the boy had promised her compensation for the services she had just done, and those she would need to do. She also knew well that William wasn’t the type of man that would run off, breaking his words. It was glaringly obvious that something was wrong. How wrong, she would soon find out.

    “Where the hell has that damned boy disappeared to? Did he get into some trouble?” she asked with some apprehension. Since the day she had first interacted with William, she had felt a strange feeling to look after his wellbeing. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she cared for him on a personal level even if her life depended on it, but it was clear as day that was the case.

    “I…don’t know…” replied Anthony. His voice was weak, as if all the strength had left his body. “He took off after I recounted everything I remember about that man.”

    “What the hell does it mean? Which man….” She wanted to scream, but was interrupted as Anthony continued to elaborate.

    “The one responsible for Annie’s beating!” screamed Anthony while choking back the tears. “The scumbag who always was responsible for a lot of beating in this…fucking town!”

Marygold fell silent. The sheer shock she received from the news she just heard made her pause, in an attempt to reorganize her thoughts.

In the immense turbine that was swirling endlessly inside her mind, a single thought managed to surface, towering over all others. “…Who is that man?” she asked with a little tremble in her voice. If her intuition wasn’t wrong, and it was seldom believed otherwise, things could get really ugly, really soon.

    “…Who?”

    “That man you just talked about! Who is he?”

    “…I…don’t know his name. I never did.” said Anthony as he slowly recomposed himself. “All I know was told to me by Annie, before she passed out. The rest has reached my ears from the going around rumours.”

     “…Go on…”

     “He’s a guard. He’s completely bald, with a pair of icy blue eyes that radiates malice if one was dumb enough to look him straight. He’s also very tall, with a body well built under that layer of armor he’s always wearing. Other than that, nothing else comes to mind.”

     “…Shit!” she exclaimed as she ran her hands through her hairs, running them up and down in a frantic movement. If it wasn’t obvious from her demeanour, she understood exactly who the man in question was.

     “What…what’s going on?”

     “…mir…” she whispered in an almost imperceptible tone.

     “What?”

     “Daemir!” she screamed. “He’s name is Daemir. He’s the worst guard you’ll ever encounter. And that’s me saying it.” Then, after a short pause, she added. “What does William want to do? Don’t tell he’s goi…”

    “I don’t know. I just know that the look he gave me at the end made my blood freeze. The bloodlust was….

Marygold immediately headed to the exit, before grabbing a knife she skilfully hid under her jacket. But before she could disappear outside, Anthony stopped her with a simple question. “Where are you going? What about Annie? You can’t leave her alone!”

    “Dammit! You stay here then.”

    “…Wha…”

    “I need to stop him before it’s too late. That man is dangerous. Way dangerous then you can imagine.”

With that, she disappeared into the crowd. As she walked, she couldn’t think of anything. She just wanted to hurry and find that damn boy. If something happened to him… she couldn’t even bear the thought.