Rays of the setting sun settled over the city of Varna like a warm blanket. Around him, he could hear the bustle of the townsfolk as the day’s labor ended and they made their way home. Billy leaned against the railing of his home’s balcony, watching his son play with the other children in the streets below. They clashed with sticks, each proclaiming themselves the greatest warrior as they stumbled around on unsteady feet. Just as he had done all those years ago.
He felt the arms of his wife curl about him as she laid her head against his shoulder. He leaned into her, putting an arm around her waist. He turned and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her. It brought a tear to his eye, but he couldn’t remember why.
They stood together a long moment as the sun slowly crept beneath the horizon and darkness fell across the city. She broke the silence between them. “It’s getting dark. We should grab the children and keep them safe.”
Her voice was like music to his hears, like hearing an old friend thought long gone. His grip tightened on the balcony railing though he didn’t know why. “Aye. Best we save those runts before our boy gives them a thrashing.”
His wife snorted, looking up at him for the first time. She was smiling and the crinkle of her eyes was like a drink of water to a man lost in the desert.
But- it was wrong. Golden, yellow eyes stared up at him. Eyes that were decidedly not his wife’s.
Memory came rushing back to him, of the war and what followed. The sounds of the city disappeared, replaced by the roar of flame as fire raced across the nearby homes, their residents screaming as they were burned alive. He leaned over the railing, eyes searching for his son, but the streets were empty.
The knuckles of his hands had gone white against the railing, and he was torn between screaming and falling to his knees. Then a hand touched his face.
The fires dimmed and faded away and he felt his pounding heart begin to slow. Billy shuddered as he turned to face the thing wearing his wife’s face.
She smiled sadly at him, an apology in her eyes as a white light engulfed them.
***
Billy gasped for breath, his eyes snapping open. His hands instinctively reached to where the Venaran soldier had cut him, but there was no wound, only split mail and the ripped fabric of his jacket, crusty with dried blood. He glanced around, taking in the familiar surroundings. He’d been here many times in a long distant past.
“Melna?” he asked before he caught sight of her sitting by the lit hearth, a small book in her hands. She froze as if struck, and after a moment slowly turned her head to regard him.
“Billy,” she answered.
Billy sat up from the table he’d found himself laying across, dangling his feet over the edge. “Ye look good,” he lied. It’d been a few years since he’d seen her last, but her eyes were more sunken and skin more worn as if she’d aged a decade.
“You always were a sweet liar,” she said, grimacing as she pushed herself to her feet and walked toward him.
Seeing her like this just added to the sting that his dream had left behind. “You should have let the Reaper take me. I’d made my peace.”
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She stopped before him, looking up at him with clouded blue eyes. “I haven’t made mine.”
She reached out, taking hold of one of his hands. Billy took in the stark contrast between them. He knew her to be a few years his junior, but she looked nearly twenty years older. Magic and time had taken their toll. Billy took a deep breath “I should’ve come to see you, but-”
“I know,” she answered, shrugging his words off.
Divines, he was a shit. Left her alone with her memories because he couldn’t bear his own. “Still. I’m sorry.”
“I see you, Billy.” She graced him with a soft smile.
He ran a hand over where his wound had been, still not entirely believing it was gone. “Suppose I should also thank you,” he whispered.
The door behind him creaked open and he released Melna’s hand as he instinctively reached for his missing axe. A young girl walked through the door, struggling with a bucket of water as she staggered inside, sloshing droplets of water across the floor. Kid soon appeared behind her with a bucket of his own as he stubled through the door. On seeing him, Billy released an edge from his many bladed tensions.
Billy leapt to his feet and relieved the girl of her bucket. She rewarded him with a grateful smile as he placed it in the corner of the home where Melna kept Kryll’s water. Kid grumbled as he placed the second bucket in the corner with a small thud and rested his hands on his knees, panting.
Billy glanced over his shoulder to Melna. “Yer making poor little children fetch yer water now? Them buckets probably weigh as much as the boy does.”
“The poor lass is my apprentice, and fetching water builds character.”
Billy grinned. “I recall spending many a day fetching you water. Didn’t seem to do much for my character.”
Melna rolled her eyes as she leaned against the table. “Oh, you have plenty of character, Billy,” she said, shaking her head. “Maybe too much at times,” she added.
Billy’s grin faded away as he ran a hand through his thinning grey hair. He looked around the room. “I remember this place being a bit more crowded?”
“They got a good look at your ugly mug and ran for the hills,” Melna answered with a wave as if it were of no consequence.
“Ha. Ha,” Billy answered.
Melna smiled softly. “The Sons will be back for you and the boy. I expect they’d benefit from a man of your talents,” Melna answered.
Billy turned from her and walked to the window, peering out into the streets.
“You thinking of running?” she asked.
He barked a laugh. “Not sure where I’d go,” he answered, thinking of the blood-filled eyes of the girl he’d hung. Already couldn’t even remember her name. He sucked through the gap in one of his teeth and released a deep breath.
“Suppose I could use somebody standing between me and the hangman.” He shook his head. “Still feels wrong. Been a Thorne man all my life.”
“And how’s that gone?” Melna asked.
He could feel her eyes burrowing into his back and he fought the urge to spit. “Been better,” he answered, eyes flicking toward Kid and the girl.
The pair seemed to know each other well. The boy had that doe-eyed look that boys got when they thought everything a girl did was magic. He smiled to himself. The girl seemed oblivious to it as they settled in by the hearth, giggling amongst themselves.
“How’s my son?” she asked.
Billy blinked, surprised by the change in subject. “I- I’m not sure. We got caught up in a bad bit of business.”
The room was quiet for a long moment as Billy gazed at Melna. She didn’t say anything. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Earl wouldn’t let anything happen to him.”
“Like he didn’t let anything happen to you?” she asked, voice tinged with spite.
Billy swallowed. He didn’t have an answer to that. He was saved from answering by the boy as the lad shuffled toward them, a loaf of bread under one arm. He held it out to Melna, looking abashed. “I wanted to pay you back something for last night.”
“Thank you, child,” Melna said, accepting the offering with grace.
The boy’s eyes turned to Billy, and he faltered, seeming unsure what to say.
Billy let the awkwardness go on a moment longer, feeling a small smile touch his lips. “Good to see ye on yer feet, lad.”
“Likewise,” Kid answered, “and thank you- for everything.”
Billy waved off his thanks. “You’d do the same for me.” Kid returned a doubtful look and Billy grinned. “What brings you back to these parts?”
“The Sons.”
Billy nodded slowly, not liking that answer. “Any chance I can convince you to turn around?” Billy asked.
Kid cocked his head. “Aren’t you going to join them?”
Billy crossed his arms. “Aye, but when you’re my age you get to be a hypocrite and call it wisdom,” he said.
Kid averted his eyes to the floorboards and Billy could see the gears turning in his mind as he gathered a response. “If I’m going to hang, I’d rather earn it,” Kid said, meeting Billy’s gaze.
Billy glanced out the window, seeing Marc approaching with his cadre of Sons. “Aye. Can’t argue with that.”