Chapter 4:

Martyr

Clarence weakly nodded his head and then he looked to the dollhouse, remembering the words of his parents: “If anything is to happen, go here.”

He looked into the young man’s eyes and replied, “There’s an escape path behind this dollhouse. I can escape here.” Silas looked down at him, making eye contact. He was relieved that Clarence would be able to escape. He could not be bothered with his own safety.

The pair shakily walked to the dollhouse. Silas grasped the young boy’s shoulders, keeping his wobbly legs steady as the two reached the dollhouse on the other side of the room. Clarence reached out and pulled the dollhouse to the side, exposing a tunnel just small enough for a large child to fit through. The entrance was pitch black; anyone who entered would be blindly led to the exit.

The tremors became increasingly violent. The flooring beneath them felt as if it would shatter under them at any moment. Clarence’s eyes were wide, and his face began to pale. Silas could feel his body grow cold.

“S-Silas… I’m scared. I don’t want to go in there!” Warm tears spilled out of the child’s red, rounded eyes, He grasped onto the side of Silas’ tight black pants, looking weak as a newborn fawn.

Silas turned Clarence to face him and yelled, “Clarence, you have to. Remember what I said? I won’t let anything happen to you.” The hardness of his words resounded in the child’s heart, and Clarence felt a sense of safety. He could trust Silas’s words.

Clarence swallowed the lump in his throat and got down onto his hands and knees, stumbling forwards clumsily until his palms touched the cold, hard dirt path of the tunnel. He looked back over his shoulder at Silas, who smiled warmly at him. The tears continued to pour down as he turned back and continued moving forward, until he could no longer see the light of the room.

Once the child’s body had completely disappeared, Silas closed the dollhouse behind him and took a step back, looking out the window on the wall. The floor was still shaking, and Silas knew he wouldn’t be able to escape through the barracks anymore. The castle was near collapse, and it wouldn’t be long before the entire building collapsed in on itself.

Silas looked at the dollhouse one more time and then closed his eyes. I hope Clarence gets out of the castle. He closed his eyes and adjusted the sword on his back.

Silas lifted his legs onto the window frame and leaned forward. With a shot of momentum, he leaped forward, using the ledge as leverage to boost himself high into the air. The warm air of the summer night warmed his cool, clammy skin. He quickly maneuvered in the air to land towards some shrubbery on the edge of the woods, just south of the castle.

A warm feeling surfaced in his heart, and he was warmly welcomed by the tips of the trees. He reached out his hands and prepared to land, smiling.

...

Clarence could not keep his thoughts away from the young man that had saved him. Under the dim light of the window, it looked as if the man’s body was surrounded by a golden halo. His blonde hair and pale skin reminded him of the angels he had seen in his story books. This man, Silas, was a true angel. 

In his arms, Clarence felt safe. He could not help but wish to see him again, quickly.

Clarence stumbled quickly as the ground shook, thankfully much less severe as before. He felt the ground under him directing him further and further down, until he reached out his hand and felt an empty space in front of him. He reached down in front of him, where his hands felt a wide hole. The hole was in the ground leading straight down. If Clarence kept going, he would have dropped. 

Cautiously, the boy moved forward, slowly groping his hands around the space in front of him. He knew that he would have to fall down to go forward, but he was scared to drop down, not knowing how deep the hole was. He tried to whisper down the hole, listening for an echo, but he heard nothing in return. Clarence began to squirm as his heart began to race.

Sh-should I turn around?

Yet Clarence did not get to think about it more, because the dirt near the mouth of the hole began to crumple under his weight and caused the boy to slip forward, falling into the dark depths below.

He screamed, but no one could hear his cries.

Then, he heard a loud splash, and he shivered as his body was submerged in water. Clarence gasped with fear as he realized he was deep in moving water, and he could not swim. He flailed his arms wildly, desperately trying to stay above the river’s water. But after a minute of panicked flailing, trying to keep his head above water, he realized his bottom was touching the ground, and he discovered his head was only slightly submerged. Clarence only needed to stand, and he would be breathing in fresh air.

He stood up, shakily, and looked around. He could see the northwestern wing of the castle, possibly a half a mile or so away from his current position. If the boy squinted his eyes, he could make out the black smoke rising from the castle seeping into the dark, starry sky. The dried tears on his face burned.

The stones of the river bank hurt Clarence’s soft feet, and he stopped on the pointy grass to rub the tender, red pads of his feet. He frowned, wishing he was home with his mother and father. I wish Esther was here too… He thought absentmindedly She’d kiss my forehead and let me ride on her back.

The boy continued forwards into the thin forest. He had remembered that there was a large meadow here, where he used to play with his servants when he wasn’t studying. He excitedly ran towards it, chasing what he knew was familiar to him. 

Once he passed the forest, he stopped. The meadow was illuminated by the soft, white light of the moon, like a lamp. The hills of the meadow rolled gently, and the boy longed to run through them like he did before. White flowers were scattered around the meadow like bits of paint, making the scene even softer.

The night continued to pass as Clarence walked through the meadow, trudging forwards. His feet were swollen and sore, his stomach tangled, and his head throbbing. Even his heartbeat was irregularly quick. If he were to stop, his body would collapse then and there. 

The horizon began to lighten by the time the boy had moved past the meadow and onto a long, stone path. These routes were popular with nobles and merchants. They would take their carriages and they would travel back and forth among the paths. Even this early, there was always at least a food merchant preparing their stock for the morning rush in the nearby villages.

Clarence had not thought of this, and just continued to walk aimlessly, wishing to see his parents.

While walking, there was a clicking sound not far from where he was walking, and he turned his back to see where it was coming from. As the dark object got closer, Clarence was able to make out a small, wooden cart full of hay. There was a tall man and a plump woman sitting in front, leading the horse in front. The boy froze in place.

“Honey, what’s that on the road?” The woman asked, squinting her eyes to look further.

Her husband looked at the figure curiously and said, “Maybe a wild animal? It should run away soon.” The wife expressed her doubt, and told her husband to slow the horse. Finally, the two were able to make out Clarence’s small, soaked figure.

“Honey, stop! That’s not a wild animal!” The woman screamed, grasping at her husband’s arm. The man abruptly pulled on the reins, quickly slowing the cart.

The boy took a step back once he saw the plump woman carefully climb down the cart and run towards him. She held the end of her skirt up as she ran, panting along the way. He was about to turn and run away when the woman quickly stood in front of him and asked, with a tired expression on her face. “Are you all alone out here?” The worry in her voice was palpable, “You poor little thing. Come with us, we’ll take you somewhere warm and safe.” 

The tall man, Jonathan, quickly grabbed the reins and brought the cart closer. As he did that, the woman touched Clarence’s cold cheek with her warm hands and gasped. “Oh honey, your cheeks are ice cold… here.” She took off the warm knitted shawl around her shoulders and wrapped it around his shoulders.

Clarence’s eyes watered at this, reminded of his own mother. He began to sob, loudly, catching both the man and the woman off guard. She bent down and wrapped her arms around the boy, tightly embracing him in her motherly arms. Once his sobs had subsided, the husband helped lift the boy into the cart, laying him behind the couple on the large hay pile.

“You must have had a very difficult night, my dear. Rest.” The woman brushed the hair out of Clarence’s eyes. “We’ll wake you when we reach the village. I’m sure we’ll find someone looking for you there” She said this with a warm smile, but concern passing her face as she wondered how a young child had made it out to the forest by himself. Her husband looked over his shoulder, but smiled back as well, also slightly worried. The couple both wondered if the small child had any connection to the black smoke they had seen billowing high into the sky, but chose not to ask in case they traumatized the shivering child. They sent a look to each other and left the matter for later.

At the woman’s kind words, Clarence closed his eyes and began to drift off, dreaming of the angel who had saved him in the castle. That man’s features were ingrained in his mind, never to leave him. When I meet that angel, I will… He began to drift off, his breathing becoming steady.

The woman stroked his head gently, sighing in relief.

The couple could only hope his parents were safe, and that they were able to find their child. The pain of losing a child was far too great to bear.

…

Silas landed softly on his feet, looking up at the tree that he had caught. The branches swayed to and fro, as if waving him a proper goodbye. He smiled weakly and then ran, moving towards the meeting point that his group had established. By the time he had reached the cart, he had just beat his other team members.

“Silas! Hurry and help us!” Another one of his team members yelled from a short distance away. 

It was Pierce, one of the younger men from his village. His silver hair shifted in front of his eyes as all the blood drained from his face. At a glance, even Silas could tell the young elf was gravely injured. The dark red wound on his abdomen was bleeding profusely, and numerous bruises lined his face and chest where his uniform had been sliced open. 

Silas quickly approached the men and grabbed Pierce’s left arm, using his other arm to apply pressure to the open wound. Henry was trailing behind the other men, watching their backs in case of any chasing enemies. They were fortunately not followed.

Jacob held Pierce’s other arm, relieving one of the other men that was holding Pierce up to allow the weary soldier to rest. The whole group was beaten, bloody, and thoroughly exhausted. The stench of blood and death clung onto their clothes strongly, as if the corpses themselves had latched onto their bent backs.

Jacob and Silas lifted Pierce into the back of the cart and gently laid his body on the flat wood floor, underneath a blanket Silas had laid down for him. The rest of the men crowded in and surrounded the man on the cart’s floor, who was now shallowly breathing. 

“Pierce, everything is going to be okay… Hold on a little while longer.” It was apparent even to Pierce that he didn’t have much longer. The ride to the elven village took over two days, and they did not have enough medical supplies to keep him alive for that long.

The blood began to seep past his body onto the blanket, staining the light brown fabric dark with blood. 

Silas wet a small rag with cold water and pat it on the man’s forehead, trying to keep the dying man calm. The sweat beads kept forming on the man’s brow, not ceasing. His face was contorted in pain. Before Silas could draw his hand back, Pierce grabbed his wrist, looking into his eyes without a trace of color in them.

“I didn’t think I’d end like this… I’m so afraid.” He sputtered, coughing up a mouthful of blood. 

“Pierce!” Silas said. Though they were raised in the same village, they were not close. But seeing someone he had known and grown up with die like this, he felt his heart tearing. 

“I don’t want to die.” He stated, looking at Silas with pleading eyes that begged Silas to somehow fix him. Silas pleadingly looked around at his comrades, yet there was nothing more they could do to save the dying young man. Silas could only comfort him as the bleeding man’s strength began to wane.

It was then that his weak grasp on Silas’ arm fell, and his wrist dropped to his side soundlessly. All of the surrounding men closed their eyes and lowered their heads, their expressions varied from anger to sorrow. Silas could only lower his eyes and try to stop the hot tears that burned his eyes. He refused to cry when everyone else was being strong.

Henry directed the men to move once again, he himself leading the cart while the other men sat in silence in the back of the cart. In order to preserve Pierce’s body for his family, the few remaining men took turns freezing his body using the surrounding air temperature, lowering his main body temperature enough to keep the corpse whole.

The elves’ bodies were well attuned to magic, but they only used it on special occasions, such as this. Due to their heritage, the mana flowed freely in their bloodstreams, but it was tiring to use and tasked the body and the mind. Those who could continually use magic were highly valuable.

After he had exhausted his magic and changed turns, Silas stood up and sat on the back of the cart, dangling his legs as he looked at the path the men had just left behind. I hope that that boy at least is safe, Silas thought, looking up at the now clear blue sky.

He then laid his head up against the post of the cart and rested his tired eyes while a tear slid down his dirty, weary face.