Rick saw it in the distance, the looming structure behind a wooden wall. The wooden wall more of a barrier than a wall, being logs stuck in the ground with rope tying them together. The whole thing looking rushed, like a house built to last only one winter, like a campfire made for one night, like arrows made in haste. Rick didn’t dwell on the why, just feeling complete and utter relief at the sight, knowing what it meant and would offer Rick. He did his best to hasten his steps, stumbling forward, not caring the slightest.

Eventually, his gait got him within sight of what he presumed to be the gate, looking more like an enlarged door than a gate. Standing by it, two guards were huddled together in a big blanket, like lovers in a bed. Their shield and spears resting on the wall next to them, a snowy blanket covering them like black paint on a white canvas. As Rick neared, the two guards noticed him, scrambling away from each other in a shower of flying snow, towards their weapons and awkwardly taking up positions. The whole time they stumbled and fell, and what should take a second took several. Rick even managing to get within four arms reaches from the two soldiers before one of them spoke up, a bassy, slightly quivering voice.

“Who go-goes there?”

Rick stopped as he heard it, staring at the soldier, the one standing to the right, wanting to respond, not able. Instead, Rick tried raising his right arm, feeling it struggling against him like a son trying to lift their father's sword. The right soldier kept his spear pointed forward, shivering slightly, not from the cold. The left soldier got into position, holding their spear firmer, stronger, their eyes narrowing as they saw the struggling Rick. Something the right soldier hadn’t seen.

“If you don’t respond, we’ll shoot”

The left soldier said, a high-pitched voice but firm in execution, like a rock at sea. Rick felt his eyes widening in alarm, pushing against the exhaustion, his tired body heavy, yet not feeling tired, instead feeling a rush of energy, a rush he’d only felt as he fought monsters.

Rick felt his breathing heighten, grow faster and bigger. Then he noticed the leftmost guards spear start to shine in a slight hue of brown, contrasting with the white snow gliding off of its surface. From the spears brown hue, Rick felt speed, speed that defied wind and glided through it.

Then he noticed the rightmost guards spear lightening up too in the same hue of brown. Rick stared at the two, primarily on the leftmost. He tried raising his arms, quivering, shaking due to the strain. He didn’t feel tired, but he just couldn’t, his arms not capable of showing the two guards his innocent intent. Feeling like the weight of the world were on his arms, the fate of his own life.

But he couldn’t. He stared in disbelief at the two guards, seeing their spears glowing brighter and brighter. And Rick felt utter and complete defeat. He couldn’t believe he’d come so far, done so much, escaped death itself just to be killed by two guards in front of safety. He couldn’t believe it, he wouldn’t believe it, he didn’t accept it. Courage welled up, courage unknown to the Rick prior to fighting monsters, courage stemming from his anger at fate dealing him such an unfair fate.

Courage that led to Rick taking a step forward, making the rightmost guard take a step back, the leftmost lean closer to their spear. The rightmost seemed to swell up in fear, like a peacock after finding a mate, like a cat after getting scared. The leftmost narrowed their eyes, an expression of curiosity rather than fear, looking like a teacher pondering a great dilemma. The leftmost even spoke up, the same light voice being muffled by the hailing snow.

“Is that a toy in your pocket-”

The leftmost said, voice dimmed away by a loud smattering, like flying debris colliding, like dragons roaring, like explosions on a quiet night. And from the explosion came something fast and dark, flying towards Rick. Something that should, and would, have blown open a hole in Rick.

Luckily for him, for Rick, the thing flew past where Rick had just stood, his body having fallen down. A thing happening because of his earlier, angered step, a step that led to him shifting his center of balance and due to his body’s fatigue, causing him to fall. A fall into packed snow like the softest blanket, barely avoiding the kiss of death. Rick blinked, twice than thrice in surprise, both by the sudden fall and the abruptly loud spear. He looked at the two guards, seeing the rightmost guard staring wide eyed at Rick, the leftmost pushing him back, screaming something unintelligible.

The pair yelled at each other for what felt like minutes, until eventually the rightmost nodded with shaky legs, staring down at Rick. The leftmost nodding back, taking a step, two steps, three steps towards Rick. Walking until they came within arms reach, reaching down for Rick while saying.

“I’m so sorry about that. Balder thought you were a monster disguised as a human. Me too actually, can’t be to sure these days. But I talked him out of it. I mean, who’s ever heard of a monster with a toy in their pocket?”

The guard came close, close enough for Rick to see her face, two glittering eyes filled with the colour of spring, green and lustrous, like the most well-endowed tree. Face rounded but rigged with scars, eyebrows slightly pushed down, looking like a permanent frown on her face.

Rick blinked, twice then thrice, taking the hand as he felt himself dragged up by a strong arm. The guard blinked back, seemingly waiting for an answer. Not getting one, she took Rick’s arm and placed it over her shoulders, holding Rick in a firm embrace, dragging him towards the “gate”. Rick feeling like a child carried to bed by his father, like a drunk carried by their friends, like a corpse dragged by the god of death. Rick tried to help, tried to walk by himself. But his legs just wouldn’t work, feeling both empty and heavy, like a wet towel being wrung.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

As the guard, while dragging Rick, came up to the gate, the second guard started stammering, asking if this was okay, that he was sorry, if he could help. The guard holding Rick responded, waited for Rick to respond, then stated that they’d have to take him to the church of charity where the pastor would help him. Rick pondered on that, feeling shameful that he’d needed to be dragged. Then found himself underneath two sets of strong arms, mildly surprised that the scared guard was so strong.

The trio moved away from the gate and into the village proper, all the while the scared guard profusely stated how sorry he was.

The village was small to the eye, but holding large and looming buildings. Wherever Rick looked, the houses were tall and broad, the height being that of two buildings stacked on one another, probably large enough to fit multiple large families in one. But from what Rick could see, most houses looked to be storefronts, signs of different meanings Rick couldn’t decipher, blacksmithes and carpenters galore. The small part of the village that Rick was seeing felt like a shopping district, wholly unusual for a village.

As they moved further into the village, the looming structure that Rick had seen through the haze of raining snow came into view, seeing a looming church. It wasn’t hard to see, sticking out like gold in rock, like silver on iron, like monsters in the woods. It was tall, taller than any other building, maybe even three times as tall than the other houses. It was broad too, twice the size of any other house. And Rick had to wonder, only for a second, how this church was a church of charity.

“Hey, aren’t you the toymaker?”

The female guard suddenly asked, a mental punch that threw him out of his thoughts. He shook his head with renewed vigor, his body suddenly filled with energy, enough to shake his head vehemently. The female guard smiled at his response, only briefly, back to her permanent frown.

“Nah that’s right. The toymaker only makes living toys, doesn’t he? Yours doesn’t seem that lively. Where you got it from anyway?”

The guard stated, said and asked, making Rick look down on his friend, down at Bob, frowning deeply. How had he forgotten, his friend was “dead” at the moment, and from the guard’s statement, he would probably have to stay that way. It troubled Rick, it really did, Bob had been such a huge help for Rick these couple of hectic days, or weeks. Maybe not physically, but still, Rick didn’t know if he’d had the courage to continue on without him. But Rick knew Bob wasn’t well and truly “alive”, and that Bob would not be bothered by being being “dead” for a while. But it still bothered Rick, and he promised himself that as soon as he had the opportunity, he’d wake him up.

The two guards dragged Rick to the church gates, looking more like proper gates than the wooden walls outside, like doors leading into a castle, large and looming. Walking up to them, the guards pushed them open. A rush of wind pushed the trio inside, almost falling over, followed by a storm of raging white gushing inside. A shout told the trio to close the doors, followed by many eyes casting back to look at the sudden disturbance.

As the guards closed the doors they dropped Rick off on a nearby chair. Rick blinked the sudden shift of white to dark away, seeing many faces turned towards him. He blinked again, and saw a man in a brown cape walking towards them, few things adorned his body, and his face looked slightly perplexed. A face sagging from age, but eyes sharp like the fiercest eagle. He turned his head away from the guards and down at Rick, his perplexed face turning to one of sheer sorrow, of deep understanding.

Rick felt as if the man had seen every burden Rick had faced and was facing, piercing his soul and seeing what he hid deep inside. It both disturbed and reassured Rick, he felt both safe and watched, relaxed and taut, strained yet comfortable. Rick didn’t know what to make of the feeling, but didn’t dwell on it as the man rushed towards Rick and yelled out.

“Oh, you poor soul! What’s happened to you?”

“Pastor Noah, I’m sorry for the disturbance but I think this man is a mute“

The female guard said as she shook the snow away, falling down like leaves on autumn. The pastor turned to the female guard, a face of clarity as he eyed Rick up and down. He then gestured for the female guard to follow him, far enough away that Rick would not be able to hear what they spoke of. Which didn’t bother Rick, Rick took the time to scan his surroundings.

The inside was as huge as the outside, large and looming, lit by hundreds of smaller lights and windows. Pillars of generous designs reaching up for a concave roof. At the front a large window of simple design sat etched into the wall, a symbol of what Rick assumed to be the symbol of the church of charity painted onto it. Benches littered around like garbage in a hoarder's house. On each bench sitting a few people, most looking quite pale, rugged and poor, like Rick himself. From these people, a majority were children, maybe even every nine out of ten being a child. They huddled together, posed in groups of four to five, sitting on their benches, chattering back and forth as they stared at Rick.

Rick understood why they looked, but didn’t understand why they stared. So he looked down and remembered his awful, disheveled and dirtied state. He looked like a wilted flower, like a homeless man after a vicious attack, like a monster in disguise.

Rick felt his cheeks rosy up, shamed at his despicable appearance, at the reaction it caused. Instead, Rick looked away, hiding his shame, looking to the side, to the corner of the church, the darkest place with the least going on, surprised to find someone sitting there.

A little girl curled up in a big blanket, even though the church was warm, staring meekly at Rick, turning away as she saw him looking at her. Rick felt himself immersed in staring, like looking at a rare deer, like a white rabbit, like a colorful bird. She looked small, but it could be a trick of the eyes as her blanket was big. She had a book resting on her knees, words or numbers, Rick couldn’t tell. And her eyes shone with deep intelligence, like an owl in the woods, seeing all yet hidden in the dark. Rick could tell, for even as she had her head turned down, her eyes were staring at him, hidden behind eyelashes, a technique Rick knew well.

A voice tore him away from his reverence, feeling surprised at how fast he’d disappeared in his head, he assumed his exhaustion having caught up to him. The voice was from the pastor, telling Rick to call him Noah. Telling him he was welcome in this church for as long as he wished. Telling him he’d get warm food, warm clothes and a warm place to sleep. Telling Rick that everything would be all right. And Rick stared at the paster- No, at Noah, and felt himself light up, a fire within burning with passion, a fire that meant safety and relief. A fire that said. You are safe.

The day passed with many new impressions, many people coming up to him and many leaving, most being children. Many asking Rick if he was the toymaker, many going away dissapointed, a strange reaction. Rick did his best to stay awake, but felt himself quickly dozing off, off into a comfortable sleep. A sleep with a warm stomach and a warm heart. A girl creeping up on him in the dark, staring at his toy near his heart.