Chapter Text
Many years ago, the temple of Eirene was a beautiful place. Erected near the center of the village surrounded by the sharp curve of a river. One could hear the symphony of the people working and traveling just above the soft rush of water.
The white marble was tarnished and covered in dust. The mosaic floors had been plundered for their shiniest tiles and lie half-ruined and uneven beneath your feet. The rooms which once housed priestesses and pilgrims now held children and infants– uprooted from their family trees by this endless, mindless war.
Funny how that’s one of the first things you remember. War. Fighting. Running. You were aware that the world was dangerous before even knowing your own name, before knowing how to read, write, or even sing— you knew how to run. How to hide. How to hold your breath long enough to go completely unnoticed.
You weren’t sure how you came to be in the refuge of this temple. You were one of many orphans being cared for by what felt like the last compassionate place on this planet. They fed you as much as they were able to, and clothed you in whatever they could find.
At the age of five, you had seen more than you should, and the world felt small and dark.
Your only light lay in the eyes of a boy, who crawled in through the window near dawn one evening. A bag he fashioned out of burlap was strung across one shoulder that he dropped to the floor in front of you, revealing his spoils.
“Look!” He said quietly, kneeling down to draw out a bruised apple, “I found a barrel of ‘em!”
Your eyes widened, stunned by the beautiful red color of the fruit he offered—but your excitement quickly dims. “Did you steal this?”
Caleb’s brow furrowed, a small scar near his eye crinkling, “I only took a few. No one will even notice!”
For more than a year, you and Caleb had been glued to each other’s side. Stuck in this orphanage with little hope of leaving. He was scrawny for his age, even at seven he was small. He grew tired of the measly meals the priestesses made and took matters into his own hands, scavenging at night, and coming home each morning with whatever he could grab.
“Someone could see you.” You argued, but brought the apple to your lips anyway. Stomach growling in hunger, you weren’t about to refuse fresh fruit like this. Especially not when Caleb’s eyes lit up when you took a bite.
“No one will see me.” Caleb replied cockily as he pulled out another apple for himself. He took a large bite and spoke while he chewed, “One day, I’ll be big enough to get a job. Fishing or something. The fishermen always have food, and I can bring back the biggest fish for you!”
You giggled, excited by the prospect, “I can fish too! We can go together, and I can find the rainbow fish that grants wishes!”
Caleb nodded enthusiastically, plans for the future are crafted so easily in the minds of children, “I’ll get us a big boat! We can live on it, and I’ll make lots of money, and I can buy those fancy leather shoes I saw.”
In the cool light of dawn, you and Caleb continued building this fantasy. A house boat that floated along the rivers, untouched by raiders and battles. In this dream, Caleb made more coin than he can count selling his fish, and you get to collect the beautiful scales.
It was easy to laugh when no one but the sun was awake to hear you.
A mere month later, you awoke to the smell of smoke. Lifting your head from the few blankets you’d made into a bed, you sniffed at the air. It wasn’t odd for the sisters of the temple to burn incense through the night, or even start cooking early in the morning, but this…this didn’t smell right.
A crack came from outside a moment later, a rush of sound that confused you more than anything. Rising to your feet, you went to the window, which was nothing more than a square opening in the wall, as the glass was pillaged ages ago.
You had to blink a few times as the bright light nearly blinded you, and when your eyes adjusted you felt the floor drop out from under you.
Fire. The village was on fire. The thatch roofs were ablaze with flames reaching high into the sky. The air was thick with smoke, dark and black, as it blotted out the rising sun.
Fear lashed through your heart, sending your body into a feeling of freefall. You stumbled back away from the window and turned to where Caleb usually slept– but it was empty. His blankets were pulled back, and his bag was gone.
A high pitched wail escaped you, tears rising to your eyes before you could stop them. You’re terrified and can’t seem to get your feet to move. Even when the thundering sound of hoofbeats crashed by your window.
You turn, seeing a pair of armored men on horses gallop by. Torches held high in one hand while they held the reins with the other. There are no banners or colors to signify who they might be in liege to, but that hardly mattered. Whether by a king’s decree or by a raider’s greed, your village wouldn’t last the night.
The door to your room crashed open, and you whirled, hoping to see Caleb, but instead saw one of the sisters. Her robes of cream and emerald were comforting, but her expression was stricken with fear. Without a word, she grabbed hold of your arm and pulled you with her. Another, older child, was being dragged with her opposite hand.
You were a child. A young child at that, and so you clung to her when she dragged you to the base of the statue of Eirene– the goddess of peace. The other priestesses had brought all the other children here as well, in varying states of weeping and wailing.
“Is that all of them?” One of the older women asked. Her face is covered by a cloth that she coughs into. “Where are the older ones?”
“They weren’t in their beds.” A younger priestess replied, “They probably fled when they saw the flames.”
With tears leaving trails in the soot on her face, one of the more hysterical sisters cried out, “They won’t come in here, right? They won’t hurt us?”
“If they have any decency.” The eldest decreed, chin lifted. “Now children, calm yourselves. The goddess shall protect us. This temple has stood a thousand years, and will stand a thousand more.”
You looked around the room, trying desperately to find a familiar mop of dark hair and plum colored eyes. Only, he wasn’t there. If he was, he would have found you by now. He would have come to sit by you and made fun of you for crying.
The sound of the chaos just outside the doors made you flinch, and you covered your ears. The smell of smoke is so thick it stung the back of your throat, and too vividly could you imagine Caleb out there. Stuck in the carnage.
It was easy to sneak away. To slide between the cowering bodies of the other children and hide behind the statue of the goddess supposed to protect you. Your limbs trembled as you walked and every moment you felt closer to collapsing.
Caleb had taken care of you for so long; you can’t just leave him out there. You had to find him. You had to.
So you crawled out one of the windows. From the darkness of the temple into the orange glow of a village ablaze.
With no clue of which direction to do, you let your feet guide you. Instinctively, you start to head towards the river, towards the docks you and Caleb dreamed of reaching on day. It was the senseless reasoning of a child that motivated you, as if that dream-boat already awaited you.
You heard the thunderous hoofbeats just before seeing the beast. A tall roan tore through the streets, and to your relief, you saw the saddle was empty. The riderless horse was just like you– a frightened animal trying to escape.
When you reached the docks, you saw the rickety, floating walkways empty. The slots which were usually full to bursting with boats were barren. Those with the capability have fled down river to escape the raiders, abandoning the village for the lost cause it was.
The sight made your chest hurt, and your stomach roiled with nausea. Fear built like bile in the back of your throat, threatening to turn into hysterical screams. Your body protested more running; the bottom of your feet ached. These simple cloth shoes did little to protect you from the cobbled streets.
“Caleb!” You cried desperately. Screaming at the top of your lungs for him, barely audible of the roar of flames.
It was hard to see with soot stinging your eyes, and harder still to call out for Caleb as it scorched your throat. You kept moving, down the riverside and rushing past more empty docks. A mill house had just started to catch fire, and the door was open and swinging with the wind.
You head inside, clambering to catch your breath. You hear more horses outside, and listen to the riders shout at each other. They plan to round up the rest of the people, drag them out of the village. After that…you’re not sure.
You hid inside just to the right of the doorway, clambering to catch your breath. From outside you heard more horses, but these were still burdened with their evil riders. The sound of their shouting made you curl further up on yourself, knees pressed close to your chin.
“Round up the rest!” One of the raiders bellowed, “Take them to the rendezvous outside the village!”
Panic gripped you, no– that’s a hand. A leather clad hand that grabbed you violently around the upper arm and too easily drug you out of your hiding spot. A screech left your throat– the high pitched wail of a rabbit about to be slaughtered.
The face of the raider who grabbed you is violent, and thankfully in your memory it remained blurred. Blood splattered across his skin and his eyes filled with rage. Though, when he saw the prey he’d caught, his expression slackened.
“It’s just a child.” He growled out, throwing you down onto the cobbled street. You crumbled into a heap, sobbing hysterically as your body refused to listen to you.
Your head cracked against the stone, and stars exploded behind your eyes. The world around you felt like it was spinning, and on your hands and knees you tried to crawl away– fighting against vomiting as it felt like the sky and earth were trying to switch spots.
“Captain said all of them.” Another raider said darkly, but there was hesitation in his voice. A single moment of uncertainty passed between them, the only grain of mercy that would exist on that wretched night.
“I don’t care what the damn captain says,” Your captor snarled, “I’m not killing little girls.”
The brute whose handprint is now bruised to your skin knelt down in front of you. He pointed towards the forests just beyond the millhouse, “Run, little girl. Don’t stop until you collapse. Run that way and keep going.”
The other raider barked out a name you didn’t hear, because you were already scrambling to your feet. Clawing at the ground in a pitiful attempt to save your life. Your mind was nothing but prey-instinct, and your broken heart wept at their cries for Caleb going unanswered.
The ground beneath your feet turned from stone, to mud, to grass. Brush and branches from the forest whipped at your arms and legs, scratching at you like claws. That final command from the man who could have been your death rang in your head. You don’t stop running. You can’t stop running.
It was dawn when you woke, and it’s sunset when you collapsed. As the sun set on that horrid day, your eyes closed from pure exhaustion. The darkness behind your eyelids grants you a reprieve from the splitting pain in the back of your head, and from the broken pieces of your life.
Caleb had never tasted blood before now.
First, it was his own. He bit his own tongue in shock when the hands of raiders grabbed him. They found him running back to the temple, with his burlap bag filled with some hard tack he snatched from one of the boats at the dock. He’d thrown it to the ground when he’d seen the flames at one edge of the village.
Most nights, he would tell you before he headed out. So, why…tonight of all nights hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he woken you?
The second time he tasted blood is when he bit down onto the hand of his captor, digging his little teeth as far as they could go. Jerking his head like a dog to do the most amount of damage.
The man he’d bitten howled in pain, and landed a hard punch to the back of Caleb’s head. The young boy cried out and fell limp, bludgeoned into near unconsciousness by the harsh blow.
Soft sobs left Caleb’s lips as he was carried like a sack of potatoes over the armored shoulder of a raider. His young body wasn’t built to handle such sorrow. He felt weak– powerless, and Caleb wept for you and your unknown fate as he was forced to his knees. Fancy boots stepped into Caleb’s field of vision, tipped with a gold cone at the toe and laced up with fancy leather.
The captain of the raiders sized up this barely sprouted boy, and demanded a reason for why the others had brought such a shrimpy thing before him. It was with a scoff that the captain nudged weak Caleb with his boot and debated putting him out of his misery.
Throughout all of this, Caleb couldn’t find it in himself to move– the strength having left him. – That is, until they mentioned the temple.
“The priestesses wailed, like they thought that statue might come to life and smite us.” One of the raiders hollered in laughter. “We let the hounds have at them. Not much left to take in there. Even the windows were gone.”
Caleb saw red. Something in his mind snapped like a silken thread. That string of sanity that prevents someone from doing horrible things. Morality, perhaps? Or perhaps it was just you. Perhaps you being alive was all that kept Caleb from hurting people, was that it?
Was that why it was so easy to lunge forward? Short and small as he was, they could hardly stop him. From the villain's belt who said such things about the temple, Caleb drew a dagger. Just his size.
He slid the short blade into the flesh of the raider’s thigh. Sending him careening to the ground, and when they were nearly the same height, Caleb yanked it back and drove it back in– this time through the neck.
Die. This man deserved to die. It was easy to find the gaps between his armor, and Caleb wasn’t sure how many times he sank that blade into the man– only that he didn’t stop until the bastard stopped moving.
Caleb tasted blood again, and it was warm against his face.
The captain of this band laughed heartily, amused by the display and approached Caleb. He easily grabbed Caleb’s wrist when the young boy tried to stab him too. Easily disarmed, Caleb’s weapon is tossed to the side.
“I like this one.” The captain said with a chuckle, squeezing Caleb’s shoulder. “He’s got some promise! Don’t you think?”
A few of the other raiders chimed in with their half-hearted agreement, and the captain laughed again. Patting the boy’s head almost paternally, “Impress me some more boy, and you’ll have whatever you desire.”
You don’t find another home. Not for years.
When you’d hit your head, you hadn’t realized how long it would take to heal. You’d spent days scrounging through the forest, confused and delirious. You’d found a dirt road at some point, and fallen asleep in the ditch beside it.
Fate must have taken pity on you, because a small group of merchants happened to pass by. One of the women insisted they stop and help you. She was a kind woman– a mother with two children of her own that had been lost to her by the war.
She held you in the back of one of the carts, feeding you stale bread and little sips of water. Traveling miles and miles before you were lucid enough to even look at her.
Indebted to them, you followed the merchants. When your body was capable of it, you helped tend to the donkeys and keep track of their wares. You learned how to navigate the roads and how to know which areas were safe to travel and which were likely guarded by bandits.
The woman who took you in, Jenna, taught you how to wield a little knife, and showed you the places on a man that would make him fall. Life started to hurt a little less, and the hole in your heart felt less like a chasm.
Only, ever since you awoke in the back of the cart, you can’t remember why you ache so. Like you’ve forgotten something so important yet no matter how hard you try, the image of what you desire won’t come.
You’re a young adult before life starts to hurt again.
Your group had taken refuge in a small village. Really just an inn and a few houses off the side of the road. Your caretakers sold some salt they’d acquired in exchange for rooms and boarding.
It had been too easy to fall asleep that night, so you should have known something bad would happen.
Raiders are like vultures. Finding anything with some meat on their bones and picking them clean. They don’t seem to care about the little peace a village might have, or the fact that they destroy lives with their torches and swords.
They burned the stables first, and set free the horses and donkeys. Leaving little to no escape for your party.
You found Jenna too late. A wound to her ribs that bled no matter how much you tried to keep your hands pressed to it. The sound of hoofbeats behind you was the most frightening thing, and the last thing Jenna found the strength to do is shove your hands off of her, and tell you to run.
You obeyed, if only to honor her request. You found some other members of your nomadic group and sprinted towards the treeline. The blood on your hands had grown cold and sticky, and you were so very tired of running.
Hoofbeats followed behind you, and you tried to run harder. But you’re nothing compared to the steed, and the dark chestnut rounded you, halting your path and making you fall backwards.
The rider held a blade in one hand, and you scrambled back– though you noticed the steel was clean. No blood.
“It’s you.” The rider uttered softly, barely audible.
You struggled to your feet and slowly backed away, frozen. Once again you were prey trapped beneath a predator’s teeth, and the back of your head aches worse than ever in that moment.
The man’s face is covered, and he seemed to remember this fact as he sheathed his sword and tore the fabric away. Across his eyes where the skin was uncovered in a bar of dirt and ash, but the bottom of his face was clean. His skin was sunkissed, and there’s a scar across his lips that looks like it ran deep.
“Come with me.” The young man urged. He held out a hand, having to lean down from his horse to reach you. Peering around, you noticed the other women you’d escaped with have disappeared.
“I can’t–” You rasped. The smoke from the burning hut you’d been sleeping in has made your voice hoarse, and it took effort to push words out. “I don’t know you! You’re with them! Those raiders!”
He looked through the trees and back towards where the glow of the village shines with flames. The rest of his band was scavenging the rubble and finishing off any sorry soul who didn’t manage to escape.
Climbing down from his horse, he took off his helmet, “Please,” He said your name and you startled at the sound of it. “I know you probably don’t remember me, but please…”
There was something in his quiet plea that rings familiar. A note of apology that meets your ears like a melody you haven’t heard in a long time, and despite your narrowed eyes, you couldn’t conjure the memory.
You recognize the violet in his eyes. The soft lavender and mauve that you remember in a boy much smaller than this. The man who stands before you is a far cry from that little boy you knew. Huddled together on the dusty mud floor of the convent, avoiding lashing from the priestesses and hoping someday to escape to the river.
You only gained glimpses of memory– flashes as if they were illuminated by lightning. The storm in your mind sent another spike of pain behind your eyes
“No…” You whispered, feeling a disconnect between your mind and your mouth, “I do.”
You hadn’t known him for long, and it was so long ago now. An ache in your skull that reminds you of the harsh crack it had taken just after losing him. But you remembered him– for his beautiful eyes if nothing else.
“I can keep you safe.” He said earnestly, taking both of your hands into his, and standing before you clad in the roughened armor of a raider. The cloak at his back was a mustard yellow and trimmed with black. “Come with me. Stay by my side, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. You don’t have to keep running like this.”
The whoops and cheers of the raiders echoed through the woods, and a flurry of ash and embers exploded into the night sky as one of the houses from the village collapsed.
You squeezed his hands. He seemed so earnest, and you trusted that he meant his words– you doubted his ability to follow through.
“Look at this place,” You whispered, “Do you really think you can protect me from them? From the band you swore loyalty to?”
Caleb froze. You remembered his name now. When his eyes widened into that childlike fear, you recognized him more. His hands slowly relaxed and released you, and you let your touch linger as you slowly drew away.
“In another life.” You whispered, “I would go with you.”
You didn’t regret leaving Caleb behind, at least at first. It was a full day before your heart ached, and you wished you’d chosen to take his hand. It’s getting colder, and you’d lost that last bit of solace you’d found among the merchants.
The next few months of your life were spent in wretched conditions. Your shoes fell apart and had to be left behind. You scavenged for food and begged for money on the side of the road as you traveled aimlessly.
An icy rain pelted down onto you, but you didn’t bother trying to find shelter. You were in a mountainous region now, and the wind was harsher here. With no home, no family, and nothing to fight for, it felt pointless to fight to survive.
You’d long since lost feeling in your feet and toes. The clothing you wore is threadbare, and you knew that with winter only a few weeks away, you’d only be staving off the inevitable by struggling.
A small group passed you by; their heads hung low, and practically nothing held within their single cart. Even their mule looked downtrodden, saddened by the cold, bleak conditions.
One of the young men, holding a heavy pack over his shoulder, paused to ask you if you’re alright, but you couldn’t find the strength to answer. He looked at you pitifully, and motioned with his head to the rest of their group, “We’re heading to somewhere safe. We heard there’s a place to hide here in the mountains– come with us.”
You did, because you weren’t sure what else to do.
You followed them off the beaten path and through the forest, following a crumpled map that you begin to think might be a trick. It couldn’t be true. A safe place? In this awful world? Impossible.
Only, you finally came to the craggy side of the mountain, a steep cliff that rose high into the gray clouds. The green of the forest encroached onto it, hiding away an opening. It was hard to spot at first, but when the first of your group entered, you blink and it appeared.
The air in the cavern was cold, but still. The wind from outside howled loudly but grew quieter the further you traverse inside. Darker and darker it became, until you were walking with one hand outstretched to prevent bumping into something.
The narrow passage suddenly opened up into a vast cavern, illuminated with beams of light streaming in through openings in the cave ceiling. The cold rain dripped in through those holes, shimmering like little stars. The light was cast onto massive crystal formations, bigger than houses in some cases, and refracted it.
Moss and short stubby grass covered the majority of the cave floor, and around a dozen tents were set up near the center. With one little cottage sat on a ledge overlooking the rest.
“Oh you bunch look a mess!” A dark haired woman cried as she rushed towards the front of your group. She wore the garb of a healer, and ushered the ten of you inside. “Come, come! There is food and warmth here. You’re safe now.”
A few short hours later and you’re wrapped in a large fur next to a fire. Your toes were poking out to better feel the heat. A wooden bowl of stew sat in your now warm palms, and you sighed in relief as you continued to sip at it.
A small commotion drew your attention away from the blessed warmth of the fire. A tall man walked through the main path of this little settlement of tents. His robes were a deep blue and with his inky hair, he nearly blended in with the dim light of this cave.
“Were there any injuries?” The man asked the members of your temporary traveling group. “Make sure all frostbite is treated promptly, and if there’s anything you need, please let me know. I will try my best to help.”
Another healer? Your mind wondered. He walked through this place with such grace. His dark onyx hair and pale skin is striking, and he had an air of wisdom about him that was odd for such a young man.
You were staring as he walked by, seeming more elven than man. He must have felt your gaze because he paused, assessing you.
“Where are your shoes?” He asked, looking to where your toes peek out from beneath the fur. You quickly tucked them back in, and curled up slightly.
“Don’t have any.” You said shamefully, turning your gaze back to the fire.
The man didn’t say anything, but he also didn't leave. He lingered like a heavy shadow at your side, and you weren’t sure whether the intensity in his eyes was anger or pity.
“I will find you some.” Is what he firmly stated, before walking away.
You watched his back as he went, and saw as the few people he greeted looked at him with admiration and respect. Was he the owner of this place? Or just a popular man?
For the first time since arriving, you looked around. Letting your gaze wander around the little gathering of people. They looked at ease, smiling with abandon in relief for finally finding sanctuary. The stalactites above your head sparkled like stars, and the soft sound of rain was soothing.
It was hard to let yourself relax, but your body was keen to do it anyway. A tension in your shoulders dissolved, melting from the warmth of the stew so freely offered. You resolved that when you can feel your toes again, you’ll make an effort to repay all the debts of kindness you’d racked up over the years. To make a place here for yourself that you have earned instead of given.
It wasn't home yet, but it will be.
Edits 10/25/2024