In Lukas’ mind there was nothing worse than a thief. They don’t just steal objects and money; they rob people of their livelihoods, ruin communities and families. Thieves were greedy and selfish, without any sense of honour or respect.

The day’s events and this sudden trip down memory lane had left Lukas mentally and physically exhausted. He flopped down onto his bed and pressed his balled up fists against his eyes.

“What does it all mean?” he asked the universe. “Why is he here and who the hell is he?”

“Funny, I came to ask you that exact same questions,” replied a low, teasing voice.

In an instant Lukas was on his feet, his face slack from surprise and disbelief. Like a vision in a painting the dark haired man casually sat on his windowsill. The sun had just begun to set and cast a golden corona behind him that streaked his hair and set his amber eyes aglow.

A million questions bubbled up Lukas’ throat. But his mouth was incapable of stringing sounds together to make words. Frustrated he squeezed his eyes shut as his brain tried to figure out how to speak again. But all those efforts went out the door when he opened his eyes and looked straight into that amber gaze. Without even making a sound the man had moved across the room and stood mere inches away.

“Wilt.”

“W-what,” Lukas managed to squeak out as he shuffled back in an attempt to reclaim some personal space.

“Wilt,” He repeated. “My name is Wilt.” He said with intent and edged in closer until Lukas was pressed up against the wall. He placed his hands on the wall either side of Lukas, boxing him in. “Now if you would be so kind as to tell me your name, and more importantly how it is that you know me.” There was a slight edge of suspicion to his voice as he spoke.

Lukas tried to look away, to look anywhere else, but he was powerless against that piercing gaze. “I am called Lukas,” he could feel the heat rise in his face as he spoke.

“A fine name that, though not one that I am acquainted. So how have we met?”

Lukas hesitated and managed to look away; he felt foolish explaining that he knew him from a dream. He was trying figure out how to frame it correctly without seeming mad when a hand ran down his cheek and grasped his chin.

“Don’t lie to me.” He commanded as he pulled Lukas’ gaze back to his own. “I will know if you lie.”

“How?” Lukas breathed. Somehow the man managed to be physically imposing despite Lukas having a few inches on him.

“Your eyes,” he answered as he leaned in closer and Lukas believed him. Lukas was certain that in this moment all his emotions read clearly on his face.

“We haven’t met,” Lukas started and Wilt raised an eyebrow in warning. “We haven’t; not properly. I see your face– you appear in my dreams.” Lukas admitted and heat flushed his face in embarrassment.

“You’ve had them too?” Wilt replied and it took Lukas a moment to register what he had just said. In the library, there had been a glimmer, a recognition in his eyes and he had said something, ‘What are you doing here?’

This opened up a whole new realm of inexplicable possibilities, like some fairy tale of cosmic intervention or the will of fate. But before he could start bombarding Wilt with questions or theories, the door down stairs slammed open with a force that shook the walls, followed by the stomp of angry footsteps. Wilt flinched away as soon as the door slammed.

Lukas knew it was Allwood; the footsteps were heavy and uneven as the man struggled with his weight and an afternoon of drinking

“Oh shit, that must be Master Allwood,” Lukas said but when he turned back Wilt was gone. He rushed to look out the window but there was no sight of him. How did he even get up here?

“Boy!” Allwood bellowed as his lumbering footsteps hit the bottom stair. He only called him boy when he was really angry, which was becoming more of the norm these days. Lukas ran though the many reasons that would have caused such anger but there were too many to choose from.

He’d been busy today.

Lukas had just grabbed the handle when the door slammed open jarring his wrist and crashing into the wall. Lukas winced and stifled a yelp of pain as he backed away. Allwood was more angry, or drunker, than Lukas had anticipated, or perhaps both.

“You ungrateful misbegotten brat of a whore,” Allwood loomed large and red faced in the doorway. “I should have known; it was only a matter of time.”

“I’m sorry—” Lukas started to apologise but Allwood’s meaty hand smacked him hard across the face. Caught off guard, the force knocked Lukas to his knees. His ear was ringing and when he pressed his hand to the already growing welt he was surprised, and grateful, to find it wasn’t bleeding.

“I will not let you ruin the good name I have built for myself.”

From downstairs the door opened again followed by a number of footsteps.

“Up here,” called Allwood. “I always knew this day would come. It was inevitable, since the day your father forced you on me.”

Three men pushed through the door and it took Lukas a moment to recognise them through the sting of tears in his eyes.