Rick stared up at the sky, staring up at a dot, flying wild and free. Going up and into the sky, like the boat out in the endless ocean, like the lone star at night, taking with it a small part of Rick’s worries. His little dragon, free. Free, as it should be.

Now, it was just himself, himself and Bob left to fend off the dangers. Dangers all around, like the mouse in a trap. Staring forward at a gate filled to the brim with nervous looking soldiers. And looking back, seeing guards from the church of diligence, looking at him. Two groups he knew were out to hunt him.

Brynjar would no longer keep him safe, once he learned of the Dragon Rick had kept safe.

And city’s soldiers obviously under the command of the, terrifying, red-haired man.

Before his mind could truly think, he let his instincts guide him. Running in a random direction into a city he had never been in, full of bends and turns and houses that were just as foreign as the birds in spring, as the creatures in the deepest oceans.

He ran behind a house, out of view from the soldiers at the gate and the guards from the church of diligence, knowing that they would soon catch up.

Knowing his run was fruitless, as there was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

But what other choices did he have?

Pushing Bo down into the confines of his clothes, he scanned his surrounding desperately. Passing by civilians, whom stared in shock as he passed.

Passing many, while doing his best to avoid guards that looked just as surprised to see him as he was to run towards them. Guards, presumably unaware that he was now, well and truly, a hunted man.

Coming into a sharp bend and into a darkened alley, Rick quickly collapsed his arms onto his knees, trying desperately to catch his breath. Breathing in hard, and out harder.

Desperately, his mind searched for hope, for a solution. Spotting his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, he plopped it onto the ground in front. Then, like the man digging desperately for water in the desert, he rummaged through his meager belongings.

Pulling out a knife, wood, tools, food and other useless items. Stuff that would do nothing, could do nothing to help him at the moment.

Then he pulled out his wooden statue, the statue formed into a blob that was supposed to be impenetrable ice.

Hope.

Hope immediately dashed as he remembered the impossibility of it. Remembered how stupid it was, remembered the vast and endless amount of life the statue needed too, do whatever it did.

In other words, a failure.

He pushed his stuff back into the bag and slung it back onto his back. If he somehow escaped, he at least had something to keep him alive. The food and water would just have to be enough.

Hearing the smattering of footsteps behind was his cue that his short rest was over and quickly ran further down the darkened alley. Further into the foreign city. Like running further into the belly of the beast.

Running until he came to a part of the city that looked more, regal. Streets cleaner, houses bigger, people more proper and refined. Feeling out of place, misplaced, feeling like garbage in soup.

Looking around, Rick decided to turn back. But heard steps from whence he came and quickly searched for a new direction.

Finding none but the open and clean roads. And ran in a random direction, as he lacked any better options.

Running and running. Breathing heavily and exhaustively. Having barely slept a wink for days now. Exhaustion like a stone piling up on his back. Like droplets gathering into a bucket.

Then he spotted another alley, quickly running towards it and around its corner. Spotting someone at its end, but ignoring them, as they were not armed as guards would be. Stopping to catch his breath, finding it heavy in his throat, almost impossible to get out. So tired, so exhausted.

Finding his mind starting to wonder, wonder if it would be okay to just give up.

He was tired. Why run?

Interrupted as someone spoke up.

“Toymaker?”

A voice that brought panic to his mind. Panic followed by recognition. He looked up towards the voice that was further into the alley, and spotted Sigurd, the mother of Benji.

Total disbelief made him momentarily forget about everything as he stared in slack jawed, opened eyed, and total disbelief at her. She did the same, but with a little more grandeur as she looked practically dazzling. Clothes that would not look out of place on a noble lady, or on a woman with too much money on their hands.

They stared at each other for an impossibly short amount of time, feeling like the longest amount of time as Rick’s mind rapidly spun at a million thoughts a second. Like time in a bottle.

Why was she here? What is she wearing?

I killed Benji.

The final thought he ended on, was total and devastating. Like realizing the wave would consume you, the earthquake would end you. That death was imminent. Staring at Sigurd in utter and devastating loss.

It was his fault.

And fate had brought her to punish him, he recognised. Whatever was to come, he deserved it, he knew.

As he dwelled and his face drew dark and weary, Sigurd looked around, seemingly catching on that Rick was running from something, and quickly dashed forward towards him. Her arm outstretched, reaching for Rick’s. Rick did not react, no response as he accepted whatever was to come.

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“Quickly toymaker, in here.”

She shout-whispered to him, and he obliged without a fuzz, sadness like the eel consuming his lifeless soul.

Dashing quickly through the darkened alley towards what looked like a backdoor into a vast house. A house that blotted out the sun and looked to contain several stories. Wooden in structure with rock to support its height.

She opened the door and immediately Rick was blasted with the smell of too many men having sweated in a too small room. The smell of unwashed clothes dirtied by sweat and, emotion.

Then his eyes saw, and his darkened mind grew surprised. No, not surprised, confused.

Spotting a luxurious bar, with equally luxurious customers. All men, some with what Rick could only call scandalously clothed women by their sides. Tables were placed around, but none were for sitting. As men stood either alone, with a woman or in groups, drinking and being, merry.

Rick would not get to see much more as Sigurd practically dragged him towards the bar and to its side where a small stairway lead up. She stopped momentarily and said to the bartender.

“I’ll be unavailable for the night, I’m bringing with me a, friend.”

And to that, Rick’s confusion grew alarmed, and utterly flabbergasted.

What? Friend? He does not deserve such words. Was this a ploy to get him alone? But why? He had given up as soon as he saw her.

He would not get time to think as they swiftly power walked their way up the steps after the bartender had responded with a smile and a nod, and into a room furthest down a hallway on the second level.

There, she gently pushed him inside and locked the door behind them. Rick turning around quickly and looking up, up into her eyes in, confusion.

Her eyes looking back. An emotion displayed within them. An emotion of looking at an impossibility, at a too big wave, at a round rainbow, at a view too gorgeous to look away from.

Rick stared, but found his thoughts growing heavy. His mood weighing him down as his guilt grew too much. Looking down at the ground, down at his feet. Wishing that he could just say sorry.

Feeling so much regret.

Feeling so much sadness.

Being so mad at himself for not being able to speak.

Then she was suddenly on him. Hugging him.

And he heard her sniffle, a very quiet sniffle, as if on the verge of tears but barely holding them back.

Alarmed at the situation, Rick gasped soundlessly as he was almost pushed off his feet, unbalanced and barely keeping steady. And as he did, she whispered in the softest, most mellow voice.

“Thank you- Thank you- Thank you-“

Repeatedly, her sniffles being the only thing breaking up her words. Practically having to gasp for breath in between them.

Rick was more flabbergasted and surprised than a cat being jump scared, or a son seeing their father cry in happiness.

Standing there awkwardly, Rick did not know what to do as Sigurd progressively hugged him harder and tighter, slowing her words as she seemed to find more words to explain herself. Explain what was going on.

“I’ve wanted to meet you ever since I came home. You don’t-don’t understand how thankful I am. You saved me in more ways than you can imagine.”

She said as she finally let up on her hug, pushing herself slightly back to look at him, eye to eye, slightly red and moist, seemingly not caring as she sniffled and just, stared at him. Stared into his confused and alarmed eyes, not understanding what she was so thankful for. For he heard no deceit in her voice, nor see any in her eyes.

She must have realized that she had confused him as she spoke with more loving and caring words, words that only a mother could.

“When I heard the news of an attack on the village, I had this, sinking feeling in the bottom of my heart that something had happened to my Benji. I ran as far and fast as my legs could carry me, barely sleeping, as the worry would not let me.”

She paused for a second, looking up as if trying to remember more clearly.

“I came into the village, finding it overfilled with soldiers. Soldiers as far as the eye could see. And I feel great shame, but, at first, I thought you had been taken and done something to my Benji.”

Again, she paused. This time looking embarrassed. Looking, shameful. Speaking quickly to hide it.

“But then I heard the news from the soldiers, and more people. And my heart grew lighter. I quickly came to our house and saw him. My little Benji, looking so happy.”

Her eyes turned up to meet his, sparkling in the dim light, moist from tears and tears wanting to come. Rick staring, confusion getting gently pushed down by another emotion. An overwhelming emotion that made his legs feel like jelly and his heart light as a feather.

“He told me of what you did, of how you saved him. And how you saved our village.”

Her words slowly, ever so slowly, sank into Rick. Impossibly, at first. As they contradicted everything he knew. But her eyes, her words, her posture. Her, everything- told him it was true.

Benji wasn’t dead.

His legs gave out as he collapsed back onto the floor, Sigurd gasping as his weight suddenly overwhelmed her and she accidentally let go. Rick falling hard on his rump, his arms barely bracing the impact as they too, turned to jelly.

And he stared forward, forward on her legs, but his eyes were not working properly. Or rather, his mind did not register what they saw, for it was somewhere else.

It was in a place of pure and utter relief.

Tears forcing their way up to his eyes, barely held back as the disbelief would not disappear.

Sigurd bent down on her knees, grabbing his hand in hers as her own tears flooded anew.

“You saved my boy, you’re my- you’re our savior.”

She then laughed a little awkwardly. Awkwardly for her sniffles made her laugh come out slightly weird, sounding a little off.

Sounding beautiful to Rick’s ears.

“Benji can’t stop talking about you. He told me everything he saw. And I can barely believe it myself, it’s like, something straight out of a folk saga. Not something you actually experience in real life”

She paused as she stared for a moment into Rick’s eyes. Rick finally realizing what her emotion- what her face told him. It was a face of adoration, of happiness, of gratitude and, slight awe?

It was at this moment that Bob decided to pop out, pushing himself free of Rick’s shirty prison. Getting a slight gasp and a laugh as Sigurd spotted him, looking down on the moving, smiling and waving Bob, before looking back up at Rick. Down and up, up and down. Her smile was as bright as the moon in a cloudless night.

Rick grabbing Bob with a slightly weak hand, pushing him forward and presenting Bob to Sigurd, presenting as if giving a gift.

Sigurd gestured, slightly excessively, as if saying “for me?”. Pointing at herself. And then, after receiving a nod from Rick, taking Bob very gently and waving back.

Bob clapped at that, obviously excessively happy to meet a new friend. Looking back and forth between Rick and Sigurd.

Sigurd, seemingly overcome with emotion, pulled Bob close and gave him a peck on the cheek. To which Bob overreacted by sprattling around as if a gutted fish, not ready to receive such a blessing. And Sigurd seemed, embarrassed by the reaction as her face flushed slightly red.

A moment passing between the three of them.

A loving moment in which Rick could do naught but smile genuinely, blinking back the shameful tears and snotty nose.

He felt so happy that he almost felt guilty about how happy he felt.

He did not deserve to feel like this.

But at the same time, he almost felt like he did.

He had saved someone.

He had saved Benji.

But the moment, like all moments, passed after what felt like a wonderfully long time as Sigurd’s expression turned slightly serious, handing back Bob to Rick and saying.

“I will do everything I can to help you, toymaker. I know you are running from the queen’s guard, even if I don’t know why.”

She paused for a moment as she thought, pondered for a second.

“I’ll get in contact with those that owe me a few favors, and those who would be willing to risk much to help someone like you, toymaker.”

Speaking about things, Rick had a hard time following. Not quite understanding where she was going with this. His face seemingly saying as much as Sigurd explained.

“I will help you escape. By my name as Sigurddottir I give you an oath that no matter what, I will get you out of this city. This much I can do for the one who saved my son.”

A smile breaching her serious face.

And Rick staring back in shock, and, despite himself.

Relief.