Tale 58- The Escapist

 A few more days passed, having changed back into their regular clothes the next morning and traversing several hills, both girls finally found themselves in a familiar patch of the forest, encountering an old man on their travels. He was gentle, bearing some scars and wearing a hood similar to that of the Traveler’s, but seemed happy and sweet, complimenting Sara and becoming interested in the Traveler, who seemed to be getting more comfortable with general conversation thanks to Sara. She casually spoke of her quest, a lot more relaxed than before, and the three of them sat on a log together so the old man could tell them a story, since he wanted to help the young girl. Sarafelle smiled at the gesture and listened to the man tell the story of ‘the Escapist’.

‘A long time ago, there was a brutal and bloody war, in which many lives were claimed and the army grew much larger than ever before, under the rule of the powerful King and Queen. One man and his father were taken from their home by some of the trainee soldiers and thrown into prison, captured for they pledged no allegiance to the monarchs. For months they watched as newer soldiers were brought in and conscripted, prisoners around them disappearing left and right. Finally, a soldier walked in one morning and called his father’s name, the man begging and pleading but being unable to save him. Watching through the bars in desperation, a little boy with hair the colour of crow feathers stepped up with a sword, hands shaking and tears running down his face. The man watched as the little boy summoned his courage, before raising his blade and beheading the older man, the man closing his eyes and unable to watch any longer. That night he hatched a plan, managing to convince one of the young soldiers to steal the keys and running out, clambering over roofs and escaping the prison, disguising himself as a soldier and managing to flee before anyone spotted him. Managing to go underground and survive the war, he now wonders where that poor innocent boy might have ended up.’

Sarafelle shared a glance with the Traveler, the older man chuckling and walking away, thanking them for listening to him. It was only then that Sarafelle stared down at her feet, the Traveler now being attentive to her sadness. “I…have to return to the castle now.” she whispered, the Traveler’s heart sinking. They would find her absence strange, and perhaps even punish her if she wasn’t careful. Sarafelle sighed. “You are… wonderful.” she whispered, before looking away once more. The Traveler reached out a shaky hand, entwining it with Sara’s, and the two sat in sorrowful silence, the rustling of trees and birdsong filling the void. The Traveler took a moment to reminisce. Their journey had started and ended here, sitting on a log, and at the time she wasn’t sure if she could ever care for another person after so much had gone wrong. But now, she had truly begun to feel again, and it hurt her to say goodbye. Though they would surely cross paths once more, this parting was so much more painful than the last, for the two had grown a bond stronger than their hearts were able to take. Sarafelle gave a smile, before pulling something out of her pocket. A knife. “Here…it’s enchanted, I found it in the castle. You can have it for your own safety.” She whispered, the Traveler tying it safely just as she did with her sword. Sarafelle suddenly stood, beginning to walk away, and the Traveler felt something in her chest begin to throb. “Sara…wait…” she gasped, speech not coming to her easily, and Sarafelle turned, surprised. Feeling tears beginning to run, the Traveler reached up and pulled off her hood, showing Sara for the first time the beautiful but broken girl underneath. Sarafelle’s own heart began to crack, and she took one step forward, then another. Both girls stared at each other for a moment, just as they had done before, as the quiet woods echoed around them. Taking in the Traveler’s face for the first time, Sarafelle smiled and leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on her scarred cheek and whispering three tender words in her ear, words the Traveler thought she might never hear again. As Sarafelle walked away, the Traveler broke down into tears, throwing on her hood and running the other direction, lively and powerful emotions blooming in her once dead heart. Cursing herself for not saying it back, she made a vow that the next time she saw Sara, she would tell her.

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