Alone

It was the ferocity of his stepmother’s slap that surprised him. He nearly fell, catching himself on the wall.

“Don’t you dare say that,” she spat.

Dylan reached his hand up to his face, gingerly touching the skin where her hand had made contact. He frowned. “I’m telling the truth,” he said quietly, standing up straight again.

He was already as tall as she was, and this time when she wound up to hit him with her fist closed, he grabbed her arm before she hit home. He thrust her away from him and turned to leave.

She began to cry as he walked out the door. He was relieved when he closed it behind him and the sound of her drunken tears were drowned out by the hustle of the market. He turned and headed back in the direction he’d come from, back out of town.

He’d known his father wouldn’t survive the avalanche. He’d been too close, too greedy in his hunt for magic; he’d paid for that greed with his life when the stones fell, leaving Dylan with nothing.

Nothing.

He was almost to the edge of town when a kid jumped out in front of him.

“Dylan!” he said. “What have you got? You must be rich by now!”

Aiden was a bit of a nuisance to Dylan; they didn’t live in a big town, and Aiden didn’t have any brothers.

That left Dylan as the only option for him.

He brushed by him, and the kid followed closely, clearly hoping for a taste of magic elixir, or maybe even a coin or two.

“I’m not rich,” Dylan mumbled.

The kid fell into step beside him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just—I’m going away,” he said.

Aiden stopped walking and stared at him. “But you just got back.”

Dylan shrugged.

“I’ll come with you,” Aiden said, taking a few more steps away from town. He stopped again and looked back. “Are you coming or what?”

“Aiden,” Dylan said. “What are you talking about? You’re just a kid.”

“I’m eleven next month,” Aiden protested. “Besides, you can’t go off on your own.”

Dylan shook his head, but then he finally gave in and began walking again. He knew Aiden wouldn’t last long on the road; the terrible truth was that he knew he wouldn’t last long on the road, either.

As they walked together, Aiden looked up at his friend and noticed the red blotch on his cheek. His eyes grew round, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Should we go to the hill?” he asked.

Dylan let out a slow, exasperated breath. He could argue that he wanted to be alone, but part of him wanted Aiden to come with him. If he was honest, he might’ve admitted that he was glad for the company.

But he wasn’t going to be honest.

“You can walk with me,” he said, “but when we get there, I want you to go back.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to think.”

It would only be a few days before he would have to start work, and as the only man in the family, he knew his hours would be long.

“Where’s your pa?” Aiden asked after a little while.

Dylan didn’t answer him, and he angrily brushed away a tear. But finally, he felt forced to mutter the truth.

“Dead.”

Aiden stopped walking and stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

“Dead?” he asked quietly. “What happened?”

Dylan pushed past him.

Aiden stayed rooted to the spot, not following him this time, and a couple of minutes later when Dylan looked back, he didn’t see the kid following him anymore. Instead, he saw him retreating back toward town. He was almost to the road already.

He knew Aiden would tell everyone in town at the first opportunity, but that didn’t matter, wouldn’t matter. His little family had been disliked by the locals for the entire time they’d lived in that town. He could expect no kindnesses whether his father was dead or not.

He stared down at his feet as he made his way up the hill, too angry and upset to look up from the path in the dirt. When he finally made it to the top, he gasped for breath for a few moments, then sat down and looked out over the kingdom.

He wasn’t looking forward to returning, and maybe he simply wouldn’t. He doubted he would be missed by anyone, even his step-mother. She preferred her habits over him, and he knew that if he went back down, he would find her wasted.

His father hadn’t been a good man, and he hadn’t married a good woman, either. But after everything Dylan had been through, he’d learned to take care of himself. He looked away from the kingdom and down at the dirt road leading away from it. Out there would be a difficult life, a wild life.

He sat on the hill for a long while debating, and as the sun went down over the mountains and a chill crept into his body, he did not leave, for he had already come to the conclusion of his thoughts. He knew what he must do.

He must stay.

The woman would do nothing to care for him, but if he were to take off on his own now, he would be dead within a few days.

So, as the stars came out and his stomach rumbled, he finally stood and started walking down the hill back toward town, back to his step-mother and the miserable life that now awaited him. He would keep his eyes open for opportunities; he was almost a man, after all. He would plan, and eventually he would leave.

As he reached the bottom of the hill and stepped out onto the road, he steeled himself for what was to come. Head down, he made his way back home.

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