Grindleby walked through the woods, keeping strictly to the path. Even an inch into the undergrowth in the dark of night would have his knees buckling and his head jerking at every sound. And there would be many sounds. Eventually arrived at the town square. He wasn't far from home now, but he was still much too late for his mother's comfort. So he ran the rest of the way. The town was well lit, so the echoes of his footfalls didn't have any adverse effect except alerting his mother to his arrival.

She had been waiting outside for him for well over an hour, as she mentioned several times before he even got close enough to hear her. "I'm not afraid of the dark any more, mother," he said, albeit half-heartedly, "I haven't been afraid of the dark in months. I find it quite soothing nowadays."

"What about the many things in the dark, hmm?" His mother replied, her eyes genuinely filled with worry, "what if you were attacked by a troll or an ogre or... or worse? What would you have done? What would I..."

"Sometimes I think that you're more afraid than I am. Honestly, mother, I'm fine. You don't need to wait up like this, you need your beauty sleep." These were magical words. His mother was incredibly vain. This comment would prevent the lecture that he felt coming.

"Well, I suppose your right. My beauty doesn't come as easily as it used to. But I worry about you, son" she looked right into his eyes and forced him to submit to her will.

"Sorry, mother. It won't happen again."

"Good. Now, as you said, I need my beauty sleep. So I need to get to bed immediately." His mother said as she entered the house and started towards her room.

"What about supper?" Grindleby asked, suddenly realizing he was hungry.

"You can go one night without it. Sleep well." And with a smile more radiant than the sun on a summer's day, she was gone. Grindleby sighed, and went to his own room. He loitered around in the dark, deep in thought. What Tanner said had stuck with him. Should he go see the wizard? They're wise so maybe he could help out without making things too easy. Or maybe Grindleby was letting his pride get in the way. What was he so proud of anyway? He hadn't achieved much in his life anyway, so why was he trying so hard? To prove something? Yes, that was it. He needed to prove to himself that he didn't need help, that he could fight back his fear on his own. His own ideas, his own effort, his own struggle. Only then would he be able to think of himself in a positive light. He didn't care about the others, he needed to do this on his own, for his own sake.

With that conclusion, he looked at the moon carved on his forearm. He smiled. After so long, he had finally taken the first real step towards his growth. He slid into his bed, and drifted off to sleep.