Imprint - 4. Ch. 1 Part IV

IV

There had once been a city here, or so they said; not grand by modern standards, not compared to what could be found on the larger continents, but for its time and place it was something. Of course Elleth had never seen it, nor had her parents nor grandparents even; there was no trace of it left now, except in local legend. The compound remained, which had stood outside the city's boundaries hidden in a forest that likewise no longer existed, its tall stone walls meant to stand against a siege that the people who lived there had believed would never come. Of course that was before the Divine Twins and the Mad Butcher turned their murderous eyes on the southern continent, and the war that had been wrought across the worlds suddenly came to their doorstep. The city was smashed, its residents slaughtered, corpses piled high outside its gates and lit ablaze; only the compound was spared, and only those few residents who managed to escape and hide within survived.

How that survival occurred was also a matter of local legend, a few utterly fantastic stories still somehow in circulation. The most fantastic of which that the survivors had actually physically battled the Butcher for their lives and won; the idea that a group of children, fishermen and farmers could have ever scratched, let alone bested, that inhuman monster who had decimated whole countries with a twitch of his wrist was simply too much. If any of the survivors had even laid eyes on the Butcher, would not a hair by hair description have been passed along? No, more than likely they had lived because the Butcher didn't know they were there; whatever object he had been after or point he wanted to make, it was in the city, the compound was of no interest to them.

Now how the compound then became a haven for lost children is less clear; not even Elleth's grandfather had been able to explain and his grandfather had been there, a child of ten when the city burned. Granted many of the survivors then were children, suddenly orphaned in a ruined land, this may have been the safest place around. And word spread beyond the island to the continent itself, people came to drop off their children, keep them safe, give them shelter, while they themselves set about rebuilding; sometimes they later came back for those children, sometimes they did not.

The world moved on. The mass genocide ended when, they say, the Butcher turned on his partners; one twin dead, the other crippled and reputedly insane, the monster responsible vanished and likely long since dead. With their defeat came a sort of peace people would never take for grated again; history still produced monsters, yes, but nothing on that scale again, thank the gods. The island's main city was rebuilt though not in the same location, more centrally located now, a little more than half a day's ride from where they were on the coast. A smaller township did spring up out this way, maybe a two hour walk when she had been a younger woman; not that she ever needed to walk anymore, Dalan would wander by every couple of weeks to see how they were doing, if they needed anything, if they wanted a ride somewhere. He was one of the few on the island that had one of those new mobile vehicles with the aether block, a design he says was borrowed from Veil of all backwards places, assuming he wasn't just teasing her. And she knew what that was all about, too, of course she did, and it wasn't just the way the town in general looked out for her; Dalan started taking a particular interest about two years after her husband had his accident and passed on. It was sweet and she liked Dalan well enough, though she knew better than to expect it to ever be more than what it was; she couldn't leave and he knew that, she didn't think he would ever come out there with her permanently. But someone to see, to spend a short amount of time with once a month, it was still good and at this point in her life it was enough.

The compound was still a home to lost children, that had not changed. She was the official caretaker now, had been for almost thirty years; she was the last descendant of the survivors who had hidden here, the other families moving on over the years since, knowing that someone would stay; she would stay, her daughters would stay, this was sacred work and someone would always be here. The children came to her still, not as many as in earlier years but they were always there, and from much further afield now than she had ever thought possible; not just from the island or the continent, but sometimes even further to the north and east. The latest world scourge, according to the rumor mill, someone the people knew as the Black Wolf, a brutal barbarian with a penchant for temple burning and targeted merciless violence; he was mostly active far in the west, and yet earlier in the year a fourteen year old boy and his six year old sister had made their way to her, orphaned after the Wolf and his blood witch sacked Green River (they had luckily been out on a errand at the time and thus escaped unharmed). Her best friend growing up here had been a girl who came over the sea from the Illeathean Isle, a beautiful girl with tar black hair and pale, pale eyes. Places she would never see, places she never would have known existed otherwise.

The compound was quiet now as she left the main building, following after fifteen year old Missy in her new blue dress and her long blond braid. The younger children were at the beach with Elleth's older daughter and one of the grown boys; it was a nice hot day and they had wanted to play in the sand and go swimming. The older children were busy with chores before they were free for the day. Missy had interrupted her to let her know some people were here, they needed to talk to her and they didn't want to come inside. She washed her hands off, straightened out her clothing and her long graying hair piled atop her head, and went to meet what would likely be her newest charge.

Outside the protective stone walls, in the forest that was slowly growing back in, a number of small wood huts had sprung up; homes for the people that had grown up here and not left, either for the town or the city, off to the main continent, didn't join up with a school or a militia or went for an apprenticeship, or with any number of the people or organizations who stopped by looking for help (her grandfather and his brother had worked to build a network of contacts to give these children any future they wanted). Some always stayed behind, and since the beds were for the children they made their homes outside. They could almost qualify as a township themselves now.

Outside by the vegetable garden she found them, an aether block vehicle parked off to the side; four adults, two married couples their stances suggested, middle aged and of modest means. A single bag sat on the ground by their feet, she didn't see a child anywhere.

She stopped a few feet away, folding her hands in front of her and politely bowing her head. She noted with some alarm that one of the women, with dull red brown hair and dark eyes, had a black eye, recent and still swollen; her lip had been split and there was another small bruise on her jaw. Elleth's eyes shifted to the man next to her that she presumed to be her husband; he looked exhausted, wrung out, as much as as his partner. It was confusing, concerning, but she did not comment.

“My name is Elleth, I am the caretaker here,” she began, “I understand you wanted to see me?”

The four adults exchanged glances and, by silent communication, the other man, the not so tired one, stepped forward as group representative. Removing his hat from his head, Elleth saw he had the same dull red brown hair as the tired, beaten up woman; in fact their faces were similar enough that they could have been relatives. He bowed his head politely, “Aye, morning ma'am,” he said, “We're from up Cornell. You know it?”

It was close enough that she did, on the main continent about fifty miles up from the coast. It was small and fairly isolated; a few occasions kids from here wound up there.

“Are we to understand you take in orphaned children?”

Elleth nodded her head, “I do,” she glanced around, letting some of her confusion show, “Do – do you have one for me?” Her eyes fixed on the vehicle behind them, she wondered if perhaps there was a baby in there; an unwanted pregnancy, one child too many they couldn't afford to keep. The world being a safer place now than it was in the Butcher's time, this was where her children tended to come from, more often than not.

The spokesman glanced back at his companions; tired couple exchanged a look of their own before they both, slowly and carefully, took a handful of steps to the right. There she saw it, a little boy leaning against the side of the vehicle, his arms crossed on his chest, head down and turned slightly to the side.

Her first, most immediate surprise was that this was certainly no baby, the boy had to be at least eight years old. She felt a chill pool slowly through her body, a little voice in the back of her mind insisting that something wasn't right here, there was something...she just couldn't put her finger on it.

“Older than I would have expected,” she heard herself saying, for the moment remaining where she was, observing, “Is he yours?”

Spokesman shook his head, “No, ma'am. Not one of ours.”

“Are his parents dead then?” her eyes remained glued on the boy in question, who was by all appearances paying them no attention at all. Trying to figure it out, put her finger on it.

“Um...probably,” Spokesman sounded uncomfortable, he cleared his throat and elaborated, “When I said not one of ours, I meant he's not from Cornell. We found him in the Blackthorn. Two hunters saw him running into a cave there, looked like he was living in it.”

She saw the boy's clothes that looked older than they should have been, well worn, too big for him and wrong for the season; long sleeved shirt and long pants on a hot day. She could see despite the baggy clothes the boy was underweight; his small hand just peeking out thin and bony, his cheek bone sticking out prominently in what little of his face she could see.

“He was living in Blackthorn?” she repeated disbelievingly, flicking her eyes over to the grown man just long enough to see he was serious. “For how long?”

She saw the boy's bright blond hair had been cut short in a chunky, uneven mess; parts of it long enough to brush the top of his ear, other parts shorn close to the scalp. Thinking this over later on, she would realize it looked like someone had grabbed fistfuls of his hair and hacked at it with a knife.

She spotted the lie in the boy's seemingly casual body language: leaning back against the side of the vehicle but it was more like pressing up against it; the arms crossed at his chest were tighter than first appeared, fingers curled firmly around his upper arm. His turned head and downcast eyes seemed dismissive, but the rest of his body contradicted that; coiled, defensive, very aware. She thought he was paying very close attention to everything they were saying and doing.

“Not long I don't think, ma'am,” she saw Spokesman exchanging looks with his probable wife, who nodded encouragingly when he looked uncomfortable again, turning his hat around and around in his hands. “What sort of news do you get here of the main land?”

Elleth turned her attention to him now, “It can depend,” she replied honestly, “Word tends to come late, but I get when I need. I've heard nothing as of late, if that is what you're asking.”

He nodded, “Its not surprising, ma'am. Its been surrounding the Northern Provinces, a mite out of your way here. Cornell sits close to that border, so we hear more. Lately we been hearing rumors... some men come across the Arion Sea...causing havoc along the northern coast.”

“...the Wolf?” she said the name, the title, that everyone was afraid of right this moment. There seemed to be no good reason for the Black Wolf to come here, but there seemed to be no good reason for anything he did aside from random violence; besides, people once believed the Twins and the Butcher would never come here and they were wrong and they did not make the same mistakes twice.

Spokesman shook his head, not even needing to think, “No, ma'am, nothing so...organized. Just a random group of thugs we hear. But people are being attacked, killed, homes burned and the like. We've also been seeing smoke, in the sky sometimes, far away at first but getting a little closer every time. We prayed to the gods it wouldn't come on our doorstep, started to plan what we would do if it did... Then it seemed to stop, a week later we find the boy in the Blackthorn.”

The tired, beaten up woman sneezed then, quietly, looking apologetically over at them for the interruption. Elleth caught a quick flash of movement out of the corner of her eye; the boy, he had jumped at the sudden noise. She turned back to him, he had fully recovered quickly enough but she did notice his chest was heaving, harder than before.

“So, you think he's from the Northern Provinces?” she kept her focus on the boy, trying to catch his eye, willing him to look up. His head remained stubbornly downcast.

“Its a guess, ma'am,” Spokesman told her, “He's not said either way.”

“Do you have a name for him at least?” she asked.

“Aye, the one thing we did get from him.”

“...And it is?” she asked when the answer wasn't immediately forthcoming.

“Oh. Sorry,” he sounded sheepish, “Said his name is Tallen, ma'am.”

“Tallen,” she repeated, it was not a name she had ever heard before, had no local origins that she knew of. “Tallen?” she said it again, this time directing it to the boy himself, trying still to get his attention, bring him into the conversation instead of continuing to talk around him like he wasn't there. “Tallen, honey, will you look at me?” he didn't move.

Elleth began to slowly walk over to him. The boy knew she was coming, she saw his body coiling tighter with each step she took, his bony fingers curling hard on his arm. She immediately slowed her pace, hoping it might soothe him but it didn't seem to be having the desired effect; the boy, Tallen, stayed still and kept his head down, but it was starting to look like it was an effort.

She reached out a hand toward him, thinking to place it on his shoulder in a show of comfort; before she could make contact, a hand shot out and roughly grabbed her wrist, halting her movement and jerking her arm away from the boy. She jumped, her head whipping around to meet the tired eyes of the other man. He looked even worse up close than at a quick distant glance; his brown eyes bloodshot, dark circles underneath, he had stopped shaving days ago and his shaggy facial hair, long past stubble but not yet a beard, along with his unwashed brown hair tied back in a hasty ponytail, contributed to his bedraggled, exhausted air.

“You don't want to be doing that, ma'am,” he said in a quiet but firm voice, “He doesn't like being touched.”

Elleth turned her head to look at the boy, but her attention was diverted when she caught sight of the man's arm. He was in short sleeves as the weather demanded and, she just realized, had previously kept his hands behind his back. His forearm was peppered in small dark bruises and long, shallow but angry red scratches. There were three small crescent shaped red marks on the underside of his arm; it took several moments before she realized they were bite marks. His index and middle finger were bound together, bruised and swollen.

She raised her eyes again, mind trying to process what the man was obviously implying, but it wouldn't go through. He saw the question in her eyes and, as he released her wrist, elaborated somewhat. “My wife and I,” and he placed his hand on the shoulder of his equally bruised and tired counterpart, “we keep the inn, just a couple really for the occasional traveler. So he was staying in one of our rooms. And we tried to look after him, but I don't...don't think we did a very good job.”

Confused, Elleth's head turned back to the boy to notice he had finally moved. Not much, his head was raised up but still turned away, but his eyes were now locked on his one time caretaker, narrowed in a glare. Feeling her stare, they flicked over, focusing on her for the first time. His eyes were a pretty shade of green, and they watched her coldly, angrily.

Deciding to take the advice given, Elleth slowly lowered to her knees to be at eye level with him. Tallen watched her out of his side turned eyes, carefully following her movements, taking note of the distance between them, the position of her hands in her lap. His fingers were digging into his arm, so stiff he was trembling.

“Hello, Tallen,” she spoke quietly, hoping to put him at ease; it wasn't working, but the boy's anxiety didn't seem to be increasing either, so it could be counted as a small win. “My name is Elleth. I, uh...I take care of children here...children who, need a home.” The boy was listening but not responding, nothing of what he might be thinking or feeling made it on to his face. His lack of a reaction made this more awkward for her than it usually was; she didn't know what she was supposed to say to him. “You're, um...you're going to be staying here with me. And the other children, we have quite a couple who are about your age. Does that sound good?” She leaned to the side, trying to look the boy in the face, instead of this side glance. Tallen jerked his head further to the right, trying to avoid her gaze.

She settled back again, that cold prickling of dread spiking back up. “Tallen, sweetie, will you look at me?” she asked quietly, calmly, trying to keep anything from seeping into her tone. In response, Tallen's eye, the one that she could still see, opened wider, the green eye turning very deliberately in her direction. In other circumstances, she might have laughed. “No, sweetie. Can you turn your head this way? Let me see your face.” Tallen's eye wandered from her, he didn't seem inclined to comply with her request. After a moment went by and nothing changed, she tried logic to appeal to him. “I don't think you can stay like that forever. I think they're taking the vehicle with them when they go. I can't imagine it would be comfortable for you to always walk around with your head turned like that, it would have to cramp your neck after a while. So, why don't you just-”

Tallen whipped his head around to face her, fury etched across his features, his jaw tight and eyes blazing. This was not the typical childish anger she was used to seeing in children that age, displays she found too amusing to take very seriously, much to the temporary chagrin of the wounded party; this was pure murderous rage, and it was no longer so difficult to believe he was capable of inflicting the damage on his caretakers. There was a challenge in his eyes, daring her to say something, just one little thing, go ahead, see what happens. She wouldn't have known what to say.

The right side of Tallen's face was a mess of scar tissue; it took a minute to realize it was actually only two cuts but it had healed badly; a twisted, swollen, purplish-pink rope of ruined skin. The longest cut started at his temple, curving down the side of his face, running alongside the jawline, curving up next to his chin and ending a bare centimeter from his bottom lip. The second cut started in the corner between the eye and nose and went straight across his cheek at a slight downward angle, crossing over the larger scar, past it, ending where jaw becomes neck. She thought she recognized it, it looked like a letter from the Arion alphabet (which, she noted in the back of her mind, was a language spoken much further north than the mainland's Northern Provinces). That wound looked like it had been infected, badly infected. She calculated in her mind, based on what little knowledge she had, how long it would take a badly infected wound to heal so completely; it was distinctly possible the boy was from much further away than the people of Cornell had first thought.

“Oh dear gods,” the words came out softly, the show of sympathy doing nothing to erode the boy's defensive anger; to the people a short way behind her, “What is this? What happened?”

It was the tired man that responded, “We don't know, ma'am.”

And that seemed unacceptable, a sliver of anger wormed its way into her tone, “What do you mean you don't know?”

“Just as we said, ma'am, he gave us a name and that was all. Lucky to get even that.”

She studied the boy's face closer while the boy glared back at her, clearly uncomfortable but refusing to be the one to back down. The she noticed something else, further damage to the right of his throat, just below the facial scars; three large, circular burn marks in a triangle on his neck. The burns were bright red, still swollen and half scabbed over.

“Why hasn't he been to a healer?” she demanded. It was clear the injury had not been treated; how it wasn't hurting him, how he could ignore it so thoroughly, was something she didn't understand and frankly didn't want to think too much about.

Tired man sighed deeply, “We tried, ma'am.”

“Not hard enough.”

“He broke our healer's arm, ma'am.”

She turned her head to look at his, incredulous. “He is a little boy.”

His expression was patient, “Who fights like a wild beast when threatened.”

Elleth looked back at the angry red burns; a thickly rolled cigarette was the only thing she could think of but she couldn't be sure. The scars on his face that formed a letter, the exact placement of the three burn marks...someone branded this kid.

She turned her head back again, some angry retort in her throat ready for escape, because this was ridiculous, he was a child and they should have done something. But before she could speak, the tired beaten up woman, who had up until now been quiet, suddenly exploded in anger. She rounded on Elleth, pointing a finger at her, “Don't you look at us like that!” Elleth thought she may have intended that to be screamed but she had no energy for that; it came out a little louder than a normal speaking voice, but no less forceful for its lack of volume. “Don't look at us like that, we are not bad people. We tried, we tried everything, we did what we could. It's not our fault it was never enough.”

Her husband held her shoulders, speaking in a low voice; likely trying to calm her down, tell her to stop. She shrugged off his hands, stepping passed him closer to where Elleth was still kneeling on the ground, glaring down. “Do you think he went quietly from the Blackthorn?” she started, “It took three days to flush him out. They'd catch up to him and he'd fight until he broke free again, run off into the nearest cave or up a tree. Get rocks or sticks along the way to use as weapons. It took six grown men to drag him into the village to our inn. We had to lock him in, for hours he does nothing but scream and bang his head against the wall. First time I go in to feed him, I don't see him there, he's hiding behind the door. He slams it in my face, knocks me over, kicks me in the head and tries to run. Same with the healer, he panicked when the man tried to touch him, he broke his arm in a door. What were we supposed to do?” her voice was trying to rise, cracking and becoming hoarse, “You tell me, what else were we supposed to do for him?”

The woman's husband finally grabbed hold of her, pulling her to his chest and stepping back, trying to soothe her. The second woman stepped forward, a small, grim smile on her face. “Apologies, ma'am,” she said quietly. “Its been a trying time for us all. Aren't any of us happy about what we're doing here today. We did want to help, we did try, we would have been happy to let him stay. Can't do that anymore, we have to think of our own.” Her eyes raised past Elleth, gazing sadly at the boy in question. “Him, too,” she said, “not doing him any good, staying with us. He doesn't feel safe with us, nothing we've done has convinced him otherwise.” Her eyes turned back to Elleth, “He won't let any of us come near him. He tries not to sleep, he tries not to eat, he thinks we'll put something in his food.”

Elleth looked back at the boy; Tallen was again leaning back against the vehicle with his arms crossed on his chest, though he kept his head facing forward. He had gotten control of his anger and watched them all passively, blankly, while they discussed him and his future; as though he had no personal interest in the conversation, though he did keep careful track of where everyone was.

“We had hoped you would do a better job,” the woman continued. “You've raised more children than any of us...you have children here, we don't right now, not anything between babies and much older teens. Having children his own age around could help. And if not, you would know what can be done, who might know, better than us.” She was quiet a moment, then, lower, “I do hope you won't turn him away, whatever we've said. You were our only answer, we wouldn't know what else to do. Whatever you may think, ma'am, we do care. We do. We wanted to help, not...be someone else who just left him alone. We want to leave him somewhere he'll be okay, but...if I may be frank, we can't bring him back and I...don't know what else to do, if you turn us away.”

Still, Tallen didn't bat an eye, if he felt anything one way or the other it was impossible to tell. Elleth climbed slowly back to her feet, “Never you worry,” she said as she rose, “Never turned a child away, won't start here.” Meeting their eyes again, seeing their collective exhaustion, their collective guilt, she took a deep breath. “Apologies,” she offered, “I should not have said...you are not the one I'm angry with.”

The spokesman nodded, understanding, surely it was a sentiment they shared. After a moment, he got back to business. “We understand you do demand a small fee?” he was reaching into his pocket.

Elleth waved it away, “Never you mind,” she insisted, “I'm doing well enough for myself right now, I can let it go a time. You shouldn't have to pay for a good deed done.” The coin mostly served to set the child up in the household, get them everything they will need and often it is a lot. No doubt would be here as well, but she thought she could make it on her own; Dalan would likely be willing to help.

They seemed surprised and grateful. Spokesman's wife nodded to the single bag left on the ground. “We collected some things for him,” she explained, “some old clothes and the like. It's not much, but we didn't want to send him here with nothing.”

Elleth nodded, bending down to pick the bag up; indeed, it wasn't very heavy at all, but still, “My gratitude, it...it will help.”

The group conferred by silent communication again, Spokesman turning back to her with a long sigh. “If that's all now, then – then we should be on our way. Want to be on the mainland by sundown at least.”

He seemed to be apologizing for leaving so quickly; she nodded in understanding, “No, its fine. We'll be well.”

The man gave her a tired, regretful smile, “Our gratitude, ma'am. Best of luck to you.” His eyes moved beyond her, the regret in his expression deepening, “And to you as well, boy...uh, Tallen. The gods be with you.”

Tallen did not appeared moved or impressed; he watched the man with impassive, slightly narrowed eyes, and he watched as the adults got ready to leave, walking around to the other side of the vehicle where the entrance was. Tallen's head turned slowly to follow their progress; when the last man disappeared from view Tallen took a few careful steps away from the vehicle, stepping back and to the side so he could keep an eye on both it and her.

The ruined side of his face was directly in her line of sight; Elleth tried hard not to stare, not to think much of it, not to let herself be too bothered, not now, wait until she was alone again where she wouldn't risk upsetting him. She cleared her throat to get his attention, and though he didn't focus on her she knew he was listening. “Why don't we go inside the compound now, Tallen. Get you settled in, get you introduced.”

She reached a hand out toward him, not to touch him but as an invitation to start walking. His eyes turned toward her, anger and suspicion swirling within, narrowing in a glare when she didn't back down. His head snapped to the side again very suddenly and, in the next second, she heard the soft sound of someone clearing their throat.

The woman with the beaten face was standing by the edge of the vehicle, watching their exchange with sad eyes. When she had Elleth's attention, she gave her a small smile. “He's not going to let you walk behind him,” she explained in her quiet, hoarse voice. “You want him to follow, just go. He'll be along, might take him a while but he'll come.”

Elleth inclined her head in gratitude for the advice. “Anything else I should know?” she asked.

The woman's smile grew a fraction, still sad but seemed glad to know her earlier outburst had been forgiven. She thought it over. “Don't keep asking him questions he doesn't want to answer, even if he seems calm that can disappear right quick.” A pause, then, “Don't go anywhere near him while he's sleeping... He has nightmares, bad ones from the sound of it. You'll want to comfort him, but...don't. Won't work, it's not worth it. Takes too long to calm him down again.”

Elleth nodded solemnly. “Grateful,” she said, “for everything.” The information given, that the woman kept trying long enough to notice these things, even though it was obviously not easy on her.

The woman's sad eyes moved to Tallen. “That does make it better,” she said before quietly disappearing back around the corner.

Tallen stood still, watching the vehicle move back the way it came, dividing his attention between both it and her. When the people from Cornell were finally gone, Elleth announced her intentions to go into the compound and, as advised to do, she simply walked away, allowing Tallen to come on his own. It wasn't easy and went against every instinct she had; she did hope it wasn't a mistake, hoped Tallen wouldn't take too long.

The three buildings inside the compound were arranged in an arch, one straight ahead, two on either side; the open courtyard in between was home to a few fruit trees and a pool of clean water. Elleth sat herself on the lip of the pool, passing Tallen's bag off to one of the older children walking by, asking it be brought to her room for the moment, and waited for the boy to join her.

While she waited, she thought. From what she had been told, giving Tallen a room mate would likely be a mistake. As of this moment, every bedroom they currently had set up was occupied with at least two children, one with a single boy, another troubled soul who needed to be alone. People would need to be moved around; no one would be happy about it, but they all knew sometimes it had to happen. It was possible, if needed, to convert another room into a bedroom, perhaps Dalan could help her with a bed and some furniture. But that wouldn't help anything now, not for several days at least. There were a few pairings of children she thought could handle becoming a foursome; Garan could be put in with his younger sister, not ideal by any means but on a temporary basis it could work; there were two boys just a short time from their eighteenth year that she could ask to move outside, three of those wood huts were currently unoccupied.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts, it had probably only been a few minutes before Tallen wandered in after her. His arms were still crossed on his chest, his head turning from side to side, trying to take his surroundings in. He stopped when he spotted her watching him, standing still several feet away; he was not as at ease as he had been outside, shifting from foot to foot, constantly looking over his shoulder.

Looking at him, Elleth made a quick decision. “Why don't we take you to meet the other children, the ones your age, that is. They're out on the beach right now. Have you ever seen the ocean, Tallen?” He didn't respond, not even so much as a facial tic to reveal his answer. Elleth rose slowly to her feet, causing Tallen to take two steps back from her. “I'll let you walk behind me again,” she calmly let him know, “but I won't let you get so far behind me this time. You don't know the way and I don't want you getting lost or hurt now.”

She walked passed him, careful to keep plenty of space between them; he still stepped back further, turning to keep his eye on her, keep her in front of him. She walked outside the walls and just around the corner, stopping to wait for him. Something she said must have made an impression because it was only a minute before she heard his near silent footsteps following behind, coming to the wall and stopping, waiting for her to go.

The walk to the beach was normally ten minutes, it took almost twice that long with the stop and start way they needed to go. Eventually they made it, Tallen only a few feet behind. Currently, she had nine children between the ages of four and ten (eleven who were older than that); all of them, minus the one, were playing in a group at the water's edge, their heads turned up curiously at Elleth's arrival. Her eldest daughter, Linnai, was seated on a cloth near by reading something, also looking up, her eyes immediately looking beyond her mother to find the boy trailing her distantly.

Elleth gestured behind her, speaking to the rest. “This is Tallen,” she announced, “he's going to be staying with us. Take care now, make him feel welcome.”

Linnai met her mother's eye and nodded her understanding; the children exchanged curious glances but were silent. The take care now in that speech was code, meant to let everyone know this was a child who needed special consideration, without drawing obvious attention to it and embarrassing the child in question. Tallen looked uncomfortable enough as it was, shifting around under all the eyes focused on him. Elleth noted with some relief that he did seem less nervous with more children around, but it was another only small victory; his arms were still crossed on his chest, he was still glancing over his shoulder.

After Elleth removed herself from the picture, stepping off to the side to discuss the morning's events with her daughter, Zane was the one to get up and approach the new boy. It did not come as a surprise, seven years old now Zane had been with them since he was only a few days old, he was very attached to Elleth and liked being helpful. He walked over to Tallen, who was still standing there like he wasn't sure what to do now; his green eyes widened in alarm at this boy who came up into his personal space. He took a step back but didn't react otherwise; Zane was significantly smaller than Tallen was, it would have been hard to view the smiling boy as a threat.

“Hi,” he said, bright and happy, always friendly. “I'm Zane. Do you want to play with us?”

Tallen blinked, confused and said nothing.

Zane continued on, unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm in his new foster sibling. “We were going to go swimming,” he pointed over his shoulder at the ocean stretching on forever behind him, “The water will be really warm right now. You should come, it'll be fun.”

This time Zane waited for a response. Tallen seemed utterly confused, blinking his eyes, hugging his arms around his body, shifting subtly from side to side. Finally one shoulder jerked up in a half shrug, the only reply he could think to make.

Zane smiled widely, as happy as if the answer had been a more positive one. He ran back to the other children, pointing people out and offering introductions that likely weren't being listened to. Tallen stayed where he was, watching the children, watching the adults, looking over his shoulders; every now and then though, his green eyes would raise, looking at the ocean beyond with a sort of subdued longing.

The children finished their sand games, standing up and stripping down to their undergarments, a trail of discarded clothes leading right up to the water's edge. Tallen's head jerked suddenly back in their direction, eyes widening in alarm as he watched the display. His head jerked away again, eyes downcast, arms wrapped tighter around his body, his head started shaking. His lips moved as though he spoke; if he did, the sound reached no one's ears but his own.

Zane paused at the shore line when he realized he wasn't being followed; he looked back at Tallen, blinking in confusion. “Are you coming?” he called. Tallen started shaking his head harder, the sections of his hair long enough for it whipping back and forth.

Frowning in concern, Zane bounded back over in only his undershorts, asking what the problem was, wanting to help, wanting it solved. He got right back into Tallen's personal space; this time he wouldn't get away with it.

Something flashed in Tallen's eyes as the oblivious, half naked boy got too close to him. He moved very fast, before anyone had a chance to react; reaching out and grabbing Zane by the shoulders, jerking him closer and then shoving him away just as hard as he could. “I said fuck off!” he roared, a surprisingly forceful yell, his first words spoken.

For a heart beat no one spoke, no one moved; the children stopped playing, standing in the water watching the scene; the two adults who had not expected that on their feet but frozen, wondering what to do now. Zane had gone flying and hit the ground hard, that the soft sand cushioned his impact was likely the only reason he wasn't in tears right now. Tallen took another step back, both fists raised, arms held defensively across his body, protecting his face and torso; his eyes watched Zane from over the top of his curled fist, glaring cold and angry.

Slowly, Zane climbed back to his feet; he looked bewildered, upset, but he struggled to keep it under control. Elleth had said to take care and he must not have, he wasn't sure how but he could ask her later; right now he just didn't want to cry, didn't want to make that weird kid hit him again, he just wanted to go back to having fun. Tallen's eyes tracked his movements, he looked like he wanted to strike out again but stayed where he was. “Fine,” Zane mumbled, rubbing sand out of his light blond hair, “fine, sorry.” He walked backwards a few feet until there was enough distance between him and Tallen, before turning and bolting for the water.

Alone again, Tallen slowly lowered his fists, sinking down to the ground. Visibly uncomfortable, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder, he finally spotted one of the few trees on the beach and scooted over to it, pressing his back up against it. He bent his legs, folded his arms across his knees and laid his head on top; with nothing else to occupy his attention, he just stared miserably out at the ocean.

A soft repetitive noise drew his attention away, turning his head to the left, looking across the path he had come here on.

There was another little boy sitting there alone in the shade of a second tree. The only one not swimming but he never did, never joined in the other children's games, not so much preferring but requiring solitude. He sat on the ground, his thin legs tucked underneath him, a picture book sat open on his lap. Tallen watched him turning the page, the quiet noise that had drawn his attention; his eyes followed the movement of that pale hand as it raised to push his choppy brown hair out of his face, where it promptly fell back into place. Likely feeling his stare, the boy's head raised from the book, turned in his direction; he was pale skinned, had fine delicate features and light blue eyes that Elleth always thought appropriate with the name he had given her when he arrived, Frost.

Frost's lips curled up in a shy smile, not a hint of fear in his expression after what was done to Zane. Tallen stared back blankly at first, then, slowly, one corner of his mouth ticked upward, after another moment the other side reluctantly followed. Frost turned back to his book; Tallen continued to stare. Frost glanced back; Tallen shyly looked away. Tallen turned back and, when their eyes next met, he attempted another smile; sweet if a little rusty.

After a time, Tallen climbed back to his feet, slowly and carefully wandering over. He sat again with his back to the tree trunk which still allowed about a foot and a half of space between them; he deliberately kept Frost on his left side, keeping his scars out of direct view. Frost watched his movements with some interest and no objection to his presence.

Tallen sat quietly staring down at his lap, casting occasional curious glances at the other boy. Over time he grew curious about that book Frost was holding, trying to subtly peer over; Frost silently shifted position, rearranging his legs so the book would tilt in Tallen's direction, allowing him an easier view. Another shy exchange of smiles conveyed their gratitude.

Elleth watched this carefully from a short distance away, at first trying to decide if she should go over there, invent some excuse to make Frost leave, get him away, not wanting another repeat of what happened with Zane; now she was merely surprised and fascinated to watch them interact.

They looked through the book together, frost considerately flipping back to the beginning to let Tallen see what he missed. When finished, they sat in comfortable silence. Eventually, Tallen crawled forward and grabbed a bucket that had been left there on an earlier day; calmly, he started filling it with damp sand. Turning the bucket over and carefully removing it, he glanced over to make sure he had the other boy's attention; he did.

Tallen then proceeded to build a sand castle, as large as he could make it, pausing every time he added another piece to check on Frost, to see if he was still watching and if he was impressed. Frost's relaxed demeanor seemed to have put Tallen at some ease; he wasn't as jumpy as he had been though he limited his roaming to a small square area right in front of Frost and still looked over his shoulder every so often, checking to see where everyone was. When he couldn't make it any bigger, Tallen started collecting dried seaweed and shells in the area to decorate his palace with. He used a careful finger to draw shapes along the wall. Later Elleth got a closer look at the glyphs and sigils he had made, some of which were familiar but many were not and she had never seen that particular combination in one place before; she made a mental note to borrow some books in town, try to look up what they were, maybe get some idea where he actually came from (alas, by the time she had her chance to do so, it will have completely slipped her mind). His book set aside, Frost was leaning forward expectantly, watching the castle (temple?) grow, grinning and silently applauding the other boy's ingenuity. Tallen seemed delighted by Frost's attention and approval; each time he smiled it came a little easier, lost more of that rusty edge, looked a little more genuine.

Still, Elleth was surprised when Frost came to her later, all quiet and serious as usual, and asked if Tallen could be let into his room. It was the easiest answer to her earlier problem, as Frost had the only single room and no one else would need to be moved to make it work. Frost already occupied the room right next to hers so that she could keep an ear out for him when he was by himself; that would allow her to keep an ear out for Tallen as well, which would be ideal. Still, from all she had heard and seen (that couple's various bruises haunted her thoughts), she was reluctant.

What convinced her to give it a shot was Frost's quiet persistence, he would never normally agree to give up his solitude; it was the fact that Tallen was there with him when he asked, just as insistent; it was the fact that these two touch phobic boys were holding hands.

Frost couldn't sleep. Opening his eyes again, he saw right away why not: his new room mate wasn't sleeping either.

The first thing Tallen had done when they were sent to bed was rearrange the room; without a word of explanation he pushed a dresser in front of the bedroom door, relocated a flower vase from atop it to sit on the window sill and then struggled to push his bed from where it was situated in the middle of the room to the far corner. He was there now, sitting up against the wall, a blanket pulled up past his lap and another wrapped around his back draped over his shoulders; he had been persuaded to change out of his heavy clothes into a thinner t shirt and shorts but only once he and Frost were alone, only when Frost turned around to give him privacy and stayed that way until he could bolt into bed and wrap himself in blankets until nothing was showing. Tallen was struggling to stay awake, and if he did start to nod off his head would bump into the wall, snapping him back out of it.

Slowly, Frost climbed out of bed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes with a fist; he tip toed across the floor in his bare feet, coming to stand beside Tallen's bed. “What are you doing?” he asked in a whisper quiet voice.

Tallen blinked at him, startled to see him there; he got over it quick enough. “Trying to stay up,” he said, smothering a yawn.

“Why? It's night, you're supposed to sleep.”

“Don't want to,” almost immediately, Tallen yawned again.

“Why?” Frost repeated, honestly confused.

Tallen looked at him but didn't answer; his eyes shifted to Frost's bed. “You shouldn't sleep there,” he declared, “You're out in the open, if someone comes in here you'd be surrounded. Not safe.”

Frost tilted his head in confusion. “Who would come in here?”

“Anyone,” Tallen insisted.

“Like who?”

“Like anyone.”

Frost was still confused, fine brows lowered, delicate features scrunched up. “No one comes in here,” he tried to explain.

“They could.”

“No one does. I've been here a while, no one ever has.”

Tallen's eyes stared blankly ahead, his hand pulling the blankets tighter around his shoulders. “That's how it happens, you know,” he said, his voice quiet, “You think you're okay, everything's fine and then suddenly there they are, out of nowhere. And then all that's gone.” His eyes turned and looked solemnly into Frost's own, “Believe me, I know. I've seen it.”

Frost took another few steps forward, climbing up onto Tallen's bed, kneeling down on the edge of it; Tallen watched him but didn't object to this. Frost looked his new friend over carefully for a silent minute before asking, “Who are you scared of?” A pause, then, “The one who did this?” he reached one long finger out and gently touched the edge of the scar on Tallen's face.

Tallen quickly jerked away from the touch before looking apologetically at the other boy. He shook his head. “No. He's dead. They're all dead.”

“Then who?”

“Like I said, anyone. They're not the only people out there, you know.”

Frost looked toward the door, quiet, thinking, his small hands folded in his lap. Finally, he said, “Elleth is right next door, you know. She says she keeps an ear out for me because I'm in here by myself... If anyone did come in here, I'm sure she'd do something.”

Tallen gave him a pitying look. “She reminds me of my mom, a little bit. I used to think my parents would protect me.” His eyes moved forward again, “They didn't.”

Frost didn't know what to say to that so he remained quiet, staring down at his lap, thinking. Seeing the troubled expression on his face, Tallen pushed off from the wall and scooted down the bed closer to Frost. “You don't have to worry,” he quietly assured, “You have me now. I'll know if anyone comes in,” and he gestured to the blocked door and the vase in the window. “I'll protect you. And can do that.”

Frost grinned at that. “Really?”

Tallen nodded, “Yeah. I like you. If anyone tries to touch you, I'd fucking kill them.”

“Okay,” Frost was still smiling.

“I can do it, too,” Tallen assured him. He leaned closer to Frost, lowering his voice. “I have a secret,” he whispered, “don't tell anyone.”

“Okay,” Frost promised him. “What is it?”

“I can't tell you,” Tallen replied, still speaking quietly. “I will, I'll show you, just...not now. Give me a few days.” He looked at Frost with his earnest green eyes, “Just please don't tell anyone. Don't even tell them that I have a secret. You can do that, right?”

Frost nodded, “Okay, I won't tell. But why can't I?”

“Because,” Tallen patiently explained, “you don't ever want to let people know everything you can do. Because then they know what to expect from you, right? And if they know that, they can figure out how to stop you. If they don't know, you can surprise them, then they don't know what to do.” Tallen's eyes moved away, staring at the door, “They didn't know. That's why they're dead. All that time, they thought I was helpless.”

Frost watched him quietly. “I won't tell anyone,” he promised again.

Tallen turned back to him, smiling in relief. “Thanks,” he said, “And I'll watch out for you, so you don't have to be afraid. Okay?”

Frost nodded, glancing quickly around the room, “So, you said if anyone comes in here, you'll know, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you can protect us both, right? So I don't need to worry?”

Tallen nodded confidently, “Right.”

“Good then,” Frost reached out and pushed Tallen over on to the bed.

“Wha-” Tallen made to push up, but Frost was crawling up the bed, pulling back the covers and sliding in. He curled his smaller body up next to Tallen, resting his head on the other boy's chest.

Tallen stared in wonder down at the top of the boy's head; he had stiffened in surprise at first but it was already fading, now he was just confused. “What are you doing?”

Frost's head raised. “I'm sleepy,” he said, reaching up and gently touching Tallen's eye lids, urging them closed, “Go sleep.”

Frost lowered his head again, throwing that arm around Tallen's body, his fingers curling around the blanket the other boy wrapped around himself. Tallen watched him quietly for a time, slowly placing an arm around him. Finally, relaxed for the first time in a long time, Tallen's eyes closed and he tried to allow himself to sleep.