When we stepped out of the inn to meet Mira's contact, I noticed a familiar figure across the street, one of the rough men from last night. He was staring straight at us, whispering something to another guard while pointing in our direction.
My blood ran cold.
They hadn't believed me after all.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might break through. Cold fear flooded my veins, making my legs feel weak and unsteady. I was completely out of options. Panic exploded in my chest, making my breathing shallow and ragged. My mind screamed at me to grab Dave and run, but I couldn't move a muscle. If I ran now, they would chase us through the streets. If I fought, I might lose control of the dark energy inside me and expose both of us completely.
The guard started walking straight toward us. Each step echoed in my ears like a death knell.
Dave looked up at me, his small hand tightening in mine. He was still unaware of how dangerous the situation had become. "Brother Lucius… what's happening?"
I couldn't answer him. My throat had closed up.
The man from last night stopped in front of us, his hand resting heavily on the hilt of his sword. Two other guards flanked him, their expressions cold and suspicious. The afternoon sun glinted off their armour, making them look even more intimidating.
"You," the lead guard called out, his voice loud enough to draw curious glances from passersby. "The beggar from the inn last night. Turn around slowly."
My heart thundered in my chest. Cold sweat broke out across my back and trickled down my spine. The dark energy inside me stirred violently, pushing against my control.
I forced myself to stay calm, gently pulling Dave slightly behind me, shielding him with my body as best I could.
"Is there a problem, sir?" I asked, keeping my voice as steady as possible even though my hands were trembling.
The guard narrowed his eyes, studying my face carefully. "You match the description. Young man. Travelling with a child. Acting strange." He took another step closer, his boots scraping against the dirt road. "The King doesn't offer 500,000 gold for nothing. Remove your cloak. Now."
Dave looked up at me, confusion and fear creeping into his small face. "Brother Lucius…?"
My mind raced. If I ran, they would chase us. If I fought, I might lose control and expose myself completely. The dark energy pulsed harder, begging to be released, promising safety if I just let it out.
I slowly reached up and pulled my cloak open just enough to show my worn clothes underneath, but kept my hood low enough to shadow most of my face.
"I'm just a poor traveller trying to find work," I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. "This is my little brother. We're heading west to look for honest work. That's all."
The guard stared at me for a long, suffocating moment. His eyes flicked between Dave and me, then back to my face. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Passersby had started to slow down, watching the scene with curiosity.
Finally, he let out a grunt and spat on the ground.
"Tch. You don't look like you could afford a loaf of bread, let alone dark powers." He waved his hand dismissively. "Get lost. But if I see you again acting suspicious, I'll drag you in myself."
He turned and walked away with the other guards.
I stood frozen for a few seconds, my legs feeling weak with relief. The adrenaline was still surging through me, making my hands shake. Dave squeezed my hand tightly, his small fingers digging into my palm.
"Brother Lucius… are we in trouble?"
I forced a small smile and ruffled his hair, even though my hand was still trembling.
"Not yet," I whispered. "But we need to be careful. Come on. Let's go meet Mira's contact. It's time we became merchants."
We hurried through the streets, keeping our heads low and staying close to the walls. Every time someone glanced our way, my heart jumped. The close call with the guards had shaken me more than I wanted to admit. The dark energy inside me was still restless, humming just beneath my skin like it was disappointed I hadn't used it.
Mira was waiting for us behind the inn, next to a middle-aged man with a scarred face and sharp eyes. He wore practical traveling clothes and carried a long dagger at his belt.
"This is Captain Harlan," Mira said quietly. "He leads the Ironwood Trading Company's next caravan."
Harlan looked me up and down, then glanced at Dave. "Mira says you want to join as guards and helpers. You any good with a blade?"
"I can handle myself," I replied carefully. "And I'm willing to work hard. We just need safe passage west."
Harlan grunted. "Safe passage costs money. But if you're willing to load wagons, stand watch at night, and keep your mouth shut… I can take you both. Pay is ten silver a week each, plus food. We leave at dawn tomorrow. No questions about your past. Understand?"
I nodded quickly. "Understood."
Dave stayed quiet beside me, but I could feel his small body trembling slightly. He was scared, even if he tried to hide it.
As Harlan walked away to speak with Mira, I knelt down in front of Dave and placed my hands on his shoulders.
"Listen to me," I said softly. "From now on, we're not running anymore. We're merchants. You're my little brother, and I'm just a trader trying to make a living. Can you remember that?"
Dave nodded, his eyes serious but distant. "I can do it, Brother Lucius. But why are we doing this?"
A wave of warmth mixed with guilt washed over me. This boy had lost everything because of me, yet he was still trying to help.
"I will explain later, okay?" I said, forcing a smile. "We'll be okay. I promise."
But as we walked back toward the inn, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were only buying time. The King's bounty was huge. The guards were already suspicious. And the dark energy inside me was growing harder to control with every passing day.
Upon getting back to the room, I gently sat Dave down on the edge of the bed. He looked up at me with those big, innocent eyes, still confused from everything that had happened.
I knelt in front of him, my hands shaking so badly I could barely keep them still. My throat burned. I didn't want to say it, but I had to.
"Dave…" My voice came out hoarse. "Do you trust me?"
He didn't answer right away. His small fingers twisted nervously in his lap.
I forced the words out, each one feeling like glass in my throat.
"I am one of the heroes who was summoned here," I said. "But I was the fifth hero… the mistake. They thought I was useless. They called me weak and sent me away. But because of my power… I became dangerous to them. That's why they're hunting me now. And that's why… your village was destroyed. That's why your family is gone."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Dave's eyes slowly widened. His face crumpled. Then the tears came — fast and heavy.
"You…" His voice was small at first, then it broke into a painful cry. "You killed them?! My mom… my dad… everyone I loved… they're dead because of you?!"
He scrambled backwards so fast he almost fell off the bed, pressing his back against the wall as far away from me as possible. His small hands balled into fists, shaking with rage and heartbreak.
"I hate you!" he screamed, tears pouring down his red face. "I hate you so much! You took my family! You took my home! I wish you had never come to our village! I wish you had died instead of them!"
His words hit me like physical blows. I felt my chest cave in. Every sob that tore out of him felt like a knife twisting deeper.
Dave buried his face in his knees, crying so hard his whole body shook. "I don't want to be with you… I don't want you near me… You're a monster…"
I sat on the floor, completely frozen, unable to speak. I deserved every single word. I deserved his hatred.
After a long time, his loud, angry crying slowly turned into quiet, broken whimpers. He still wouldn't look at me. His shoulders kept shaking.
I finally spoke, my voice low and heavy with guilt.
"You're right to hate me," I whispered. "What happened to your family… It's all my fault. I can't change that. But I'm not letting you go out there alone. You're staying with me, Dave. Even if you hate me. Even if you never forgive me. I'll keep you safe. That's the least I can do."
Dave didn't reply.
He just stayed curled up against the wall, crying softly into his knees, refusing to look at me.
The silence between us felt colder and heavier than anything I had ever faced.
Dave stayed curled up against the wall, his small body still shaking with quiet sobs. He wouldn't look at me. Now and then, a soft hiccup escaped him, and each one felt like another nail driven into my chest.
I remained on the floor, not daring to move closer. My hands clenched into fists on my knees as I stared at the boy I had sworn to protect — the boy whose entire world I had destroyed.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. The candle on the table slowly burned lower, casting long, flickering shadows across the walls.
Finally, Dave's crying quieted into exhausted sniffles. He wiped his face roughly with his sleeve, but his eyes were still red and swollen when he spoke again, his voice small and hoarse.
"…I'm hungry."
The simple words almost broke me. Even after everything he had just learned, after screaming that he hated me, his first thought was still basic survival.
I nodded slowly, not trusting my voice at first.
"I'll get us something to eat," I said quietly. "Stay here. I'll be quick."
He didn't respond. He just hugged his knees tighter and turned his face toward the wall.
I stood up on unsteady legs and left the room, closing the door softly behind me. The moment I was in the hallway, I leaned against the wall and let out a shaky breath. My eyes stung. The guilt was so heavy it felt like I was drowning.
He hates me.
He has every right to.
When I returned with two bowls of simple stew and some bread, Dave was still in the same position. I placed the food on the small table and sat on the floor again, keeping a distance between us.
"You should eat," I said gently.
He hesitated for a long moment, then slowly crawled over and picked up the bowl without looking at me. He ate in silence, small spoonful by small spoonful, tears occasionally dripping into the stew.
I couldn't eat. My appetite was gone.
After he finished, Dave pushed the empty bowl away and curled up on the bed, facing the wall. His back was to me.
I stayed on the floor, watching over him as the night grew deeper.
The only sound in the room was Dave's quiet, uneven breathing and the heavy weight of everything I had broken between us.
I whispered into the darkness, so softly I wasn't sure if he could hear me:
"I'm sorry, Dave. I'll make this right… somehow."
He didn't answer.
He just pulled the thin blanket tighter around himself and turned even further away.
The night felt endless.
I stayed on the floor long after Dave had cried himself to sleep, staring at the ceiling while the weight of his words pressed down on me like stones. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard his broken scream again:
"I hate you so much!"
Sleep didn't come easily. When it finally did, it was filled with nightmares of blood-stained ground and Dave's tear-filled eyes accusing me.
The next morning came too soon.
Sunlight pierced through the thin curtains, forcing me to open my eyes. My body ached from sleeping on the hard floor, but the real pain was deeper. I sat up slowly and looked toward the bed.
Dave was already awake. He was sitting with his back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, staring at the floor. His eyes were puffy and red. He didn't look at me.
I cleared my throat, my voice rough from lack of sleep.
"Good morning," I said quietly.
He didn't reply. He just hugged his knees tighter.
The silence hurt more than any words could.
I stood up and moved carefully, trying not to startle him. "We need to get ready. Mira said her contact will meet us behind the inn after breakfast. If we want to join the caravan, we have to prove we can be useful."
Dave still didn't speak. He simply nodded once, a small, reluctant movement.
We got dressed in silence. I helped him put on the clean clothes we had scavenged from the ruined village, but he flinched slightly when my hand brushed his shoulder. I pulled back immediately, the guilt twisting sharper in my chest.
Downstairs, the talkative girl from yesterday brought us breakfast without her usual chatter. She must have sensed the heavy atmosphere. Dave ate slowly, barely touching his food. I forced myself to eat a few bites, even though it tasted like ash.
After we finished, I paid Mira and thanked her again for the introduction. She gave me one last serious look.
"Be careful out there," she said quietly. "The roads aren't safe for people with secrets."
I nodded, then took Dave's hand. He didn't pull away, but his grip was limp and cold.
We walked behind the inn where Captain Harlan was waiting with two wagons and a small group of men loading supplies. He looked us over with sharp eyes.
"So you're the ones Mira recommended," one of them said. "You any good with loading and standing watch?"
"I can do whatever is needed," I replied. "And the boy can help with small tasks."
Harlan grunted. speaking "Fine. Ten silver a week for you. Five for the boy. You ride in the second wagon. Keep your heads down and don't cause trouble. We leave at dawn tomorrow."
As the men continued loading, Dave stood beside me, staring at the ground. I knelt so I was closer to his level.
"Dave," I said softly, "this is our chance. We'll travel as merchants. No one will suspect us. We can stay safe this way."
He finally looked up at me. His eyes were still red, but the anger had dulled into something quieter — exhaustion and resentment.
"I don't care," he muttered. "I just want to be somewhere else."
His words stung, but I forced myself to nod.
"I know," I whispered. "I'll make sure you're safe. Even if you never forgive me."
Dave turned his face away again, but he didn't let go of my hand.
Dave didn't reply.
He just stayed curled up against the wall, crying softly into his knees, refusing to look at me. Then, in a tiny, broken voice barely louder than a whisper, he said:
"…I miss my mom."
Those four words cut deeper than any scream. I sat there in the darkness, unable to comfort the boy whose family I had taken from him, knowing that tomorrow we would begin our journey as merchants pretending everything was normal while the trust between us lay in pieces.