He thought it was the rain. The tap-tapping was so quiet. Keenin groaned and sat up next to the fireplace where glowing embers still smoldered. He didn’t feel right, but he wasn’t cold and he wasn’t hungry. 

Why was he awake? What was that tapping sound?

Finally, Keenin looked towards the door. It was a knocking sequence his friend Lester had come up with. Keenin got up and started to approach, but he stopped himself. 

How could he know that the person outside was Lester and why would he come here? 

The rapping at the door ceased. Keenin strained his ears and heard the scuffle of feet in the dirt. Whoever was there was leaving. Keenin rushed to open the door to a darkened street. 

“Lester,” he called quietly.

Cool air seeped by as Lester turned and Keenin felt the distance of the past month, suddenly praying in his heart that their separation wasn’t more than a phase, and Keenin’s weakness in not being able to help his friend might still be forgiven. 

“You always did work on your own time,” Lester commented. 

Keenin thought of the times he had refused help or told Lester to go ahead without him. 

“I didn't think this would happen. How am I supposed to fix it?” 

“Kid, there is nothing to fix. I just had an unfinished promise. Don't let me bother you.”

“Wait! Are you-”

Keenin took a step and tripped, his hands landing in the dirt, his lowered head catching sight of the money bag that tripped him. 

He knew what it was, and yet it felt like a bag filled with guilt. It must have hurt Lester when Alaban paid away the debt. 

“Are we not friends?” 

“Of course we are.” 

“Then where are you going? Take this back.” Keenin rose to return the money. 

“That. I don’t need it. And I don't know. You might get caught in another stupid scam if I don't look out for you.” 

Keenin remained quiet for a long while. 

“You're lying. You're really leaving.” 

“What else can I do? What work can this village offer a former thief? Once I become rich you can come visit me.” 

What Lester said made sense and as the one who caused their separation, Keenin had no right to complain. 

“Then. This money should be yours. Let me see you off properly.” He tried to hand back the money again. 

Lester considered. “Then…Do you want to help with one more job?”

*

Keenin followed behind, still holding the bag of money.

“Can’t you take the money?” Keenin asked.

Keenin didn’t like that Lester intended to leave town, but as the one who had created this rift Keenin knew it was best. He would rather help Lester settle a new life than make him wait for a far off promise.

“I need to steal some clothes. If I look decent I might get work on a farm or with a traveling merchant,” Lester commented.

“Why did you never do this before?” He knew Lester was smart enough to get what he wanted. Even Keln hadn’t bothered Lester for payment because Lester could convince strangers to help him.

“I didn’t expect to get work here since my father’s a drunk. He would have stolen what I made,” Lester said as they made their way to the inn.

“You never said that before.”

“Of course I didn’t. I was in a gang of homeless thieves and as bitter as I am about my mother taking my little sis and remarrying, I thought I would spare them the trouble.”

“I never knew.”

“And I never told, but now I’m leaving.”

Keenin looked at the darkened houses as they passed. Any one of them could have been where Lester’s family lived. It was such a different feeling. Yet, there was a part of the story that didn’t make sense. 

“You could have left the village if you didn’t like being a thief.”

Even Keenin had started to think about leaving and Lester had been here longer.

“Oh, That,” Lester said. “I didn’t think you could make it yet. The next town is a far walk and your survival skills are not great. You might remember that you could barely talk to people when I found you, let alone ask for help.” 

An awkward silence followed.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. 

“Forget it,” Lester said. “I only wanted you to quit relying on people that weren’t there. I expect Alaban will toughen you up.”

*

Lester stopped as the inn came into view. It was a cute two-story structure with six rooms upstairs and a kitchen and sitting room on the lower level. The horse stable to the side was their way up since they could climb to the loft and up to the roof to reach the second floor.

“Are you still sure you what to do this?” Lester asked. 

“It's the last time I'll see you so of course I should come,” Keenin said.

Once they confirmed the area was deserted, they entered the stables and moved towards the ladder at the back. This was the easiest part, but Keenin suddenly gripped the back of Lester’s shirt to make him stop.  

That animal in the stall wasn't a horse. He had seen it once in a book. A large feathered head with curved eagle beak and the predatory body of a cat.

A griffin. 

There were two of these penned in the stalls ahead. One preened its feathers while the other was curled asleep.

“Those don't look safe,” Keenin whispered.  

“Ya…well they're penned, aren't they. We just walk down the middle.”

Loud laughter sounded. Lester pulled Keenin, tucking them behind a bale of hay. Light slashed across the ground when the doors opened. 

“Ugh let go,” a familiar voice said. 

“But still…” another man said. “All that boasting and you got shot with an arrow.”

“Fine. Fine. Yes. But I also got all of these.”

Keenin peaked around the hay to see the man who threatened Alaban that morning holding up a familiar case of potions. He started to lunge forwards when a warm hand clamped over his mouth. Another hand grabbed his wrist and dragged him back into hiding. 

“Idiot. You know that white knight is catching up. How can you waste time on these pranks?” The stall doors were pulled open as they retrieved the gryphons. 

“Trust me. It was worth the time.”

Keenin was forced to remain still as the enemies passed their hiding spot and a rustle of wings and a screech announced their departure. 

No sooner had Lester released his hold and Keenin started running back the way he came. He only had Aleban in mind. He must be safe… he must be…

Keenin stumbled to a halt and caught himself against a wall as an ominous vision forced itself upon him. 

People were running in panic, orange flashed across their faces, sparks danced, smoke blotted out the stars.

The library.

Tess. 

Flames branched out through the upper floor windows. Water was thrown. Tess was calling out from somewhere inside, yet the front doors had remained closed. He ran for those doors, but was captured by a pair of strong hands on his arm.

“Child. You can do nothing.”

“The doors! Open the doors!” Keenin screamed at them. 

“We mustn’t let in more air. The flames will get worse,” the stranger told him.

“They're still in there! They're still in there!” Keenin screamed. 

The adults weren’t listening to him. The man who restrained him was telling him to calm down and refused to let go. Keenin stopped struggling and dragged in some uneasy breaths. The man loosened his grip. Keenin broke free and rushed forward. He grabbed the door handle. Pulled. And pulled. It felt like an otherworldly force held it shut. 

The man from earlier grabbed his waist and tried to drag him back. It was a mistake. Keenin still gripped the handle. The tug caused the door to burst open. The fire roared with raging intensity and he felt he was already burning, but Keenin wasn’t looking at the flames. There was Tess with her mother on the stairs. They were almost to the bottom. Keenin rushed in, choaking on heat and smoke. 

A horrendous noise echoed and ripped through the building. A rain of cinders fell. The ceiling dropped.

Keenin reflexively threw his arms over his head and shut his eyes. When nothing big hit him he blinked the settling dust out of his vision. 

On the stairs Tess was trapped under the weight of her mother and the fallen beams, but unlike her mother she was alive. Her eyes met his. 

“Leave,” she said. 

In shock Keenin almost convinced himself that this was his imagination, but if it had been a dream then her hand would be in his and they would be walking out the door. Instead, her words sounded accusing. Her hazel eyes were full of pain and growing dull, and he knew that this was his fault. Why had he thought this was right? Alaban also. Alaban was also going to die. 

Hot tears ran down his cheeks and obscured his vision. He turned towards the door where he had come and saw a beam fallen across the entrance.

It almost felt like a fitting end. He hadn’t listened to his friend, he hadn’t listened to the adults and he was going to die because he had wanted to help them all. From his mother to his friend Lester, to the thieves, and the regretful old hero. He had hurt whomever he wanted to help. 

“Do you want to save her?” a calming voice asked.

He wanted to think it echoed from his mind, but it came from behind. Keenin blinked his teary eyes and looked. He seemed to be hallucinating from the smoke because Tess was there as he had last seen, trapped on the stairs, except now she watched with ice blue eyes that didn’t belong to her. “It seems to me,” Tess spoke, “That you and she are the only ones who need saving. Everyone else has saved themselves.”

“Who…Are you?”

Was this his guilt?

“I’m a figment of your mind. Am, I not?”

It had to be. It wasn’t even Tess. It was probably his melting mind trying to process his trauma.

“So, do you want her back?”

“Of course,” Keenin told it.

He had wanted all of them to be safe. He had wanted them to exist in the same happy town.

“Then, why don’t you give me your unfortunate life,” it told him.

“What for?”

And…did he really think himself unfortunate?

“For this girl,” it said.

Was this a joke?

“But we are trapped in a burning building. I’m going to die. My life isn't worth anything.”

And what sort of end of life fantasy ended with him dying. Where was his cozy family life?

“Of course you’ll die,” it said. “I never said I would save you. I want your body. It’s only fair I present a trade for it.”

Strange. This was beyond hallucinations. Was this real? Was this a nightmare? He was supposed to be trapped in a fire and yet for a while now he didn’t feel it, didn’t hear it. 

“Aren’t you me?”

Was this not his fear and his guilt?

“Times almost up Keenin,” it said. “The girl’s life for your body. You people say it all time. A dying man has nothing to lose.”

“Wait I—

He put a hand to his head which felt dizzy. Where was he? His throat was dry and he tasted smoke, but if this was a fire he should have escaped. This thing was keeping him here.

“Keenin,” the voice prompted. “Should I let her live?”

It wasn’t fair. He could have tried to get out. He might have tried to start again, even if it was impossible, even if he got burnt and blamed. Why wasn’t he burning?

Keenin looked back to the door to see more debris piled in front. His sweat felt cold against his skin.

“It would have been difficult to talk,” the voice said. “So I asked the flames to leave you alone.”

“I see. You… weren’t lying.”

Death had come.

“Then…” Keenin closed his eyes. “I accept.”

A minute passed. Silence surrounded him. 

Crack. Crackle. Snap. 

Slowly, as the sound of fire returned, Keenin opened his eyes. He was faced with Tess’s charred and burning corpse. A flaming figure floated above and then exploded into sparks. 

Keenin didn’t understand. He stood in the swirl of smoke. Around him paper and wood were crumbling to ash. Red flames flashed through the grey of the smoke. But even stranger than the dreamlike destruction, was the sound of outside voices. Keenin could hear people shouting over the roar of the fire and one voice was louder than the rest.

“Keenin!”

It was Alaban. He was alive. Keenin heard a slam against the wall and when he turned he saw the same blocked door. 

Despite the swirl of smoke his lungs felt fine and his skin felt cooled. Something was wrong with him, Keenin decided. He heard the door crack with a force.

“Boy!” Alaban hollered.

“Don’t come in!” Keenin shouted.

Everything else was burning. It was only him that wasn’t and the building wasn’t stable.

“Boy. Come out. You must leave them behind.”

But hadn’t he killed Tess.

“Just follow my voice. Can you do that for me? It can be your last job if that’s what you want.”

Images of everyday work flashed through Keenin's head. Preparing plants, crushing seeds, sitting at the shop stall. He liked those things.

“Ok,” Keenin said.

He set his sights on the doorway where the beam and debris blocked his path. An idea prompted him to lift a hand and the large beam burst into flames that disintegrated it to ash along with anything else in the way. Too exhausted to care Keenin stepped forward to opened the door and fell unconscious into Alaban’s arms.