It was odd, staring down at a little girl, knowing that her entire world was about to be up-ended. Such a young child, much too innocent for the bloodshed that had taken place. She was shaking, her back pressed up against the wall of the chest she was hiding in. Her dark brown eyes stared up at him, fear evident in how she tracked every movement. Their eyes locked. Despite everything - the pain, the adrenaline, the anguish coursing through him - Patrick was relieved. There was someone else here. Someone else who made it. A survivor. He wasn’t alone.

  The young girl, however, did not seem as pleased as he was. She burrowed down further as he moved to lean the chest's lid against the wall, as if hoping the wooden box could swallow her whole. Her jaw was clenched, seemingly afraid of even breathing too loud.

  The wound on the side of Patrick's head throbbed as he opened his mouth to console her, but found that he didn’t know what to say. How did one reassure a child in such circumstances? What comfort could he bring after everything? The gods had taken her mother, her corpse lying limply in the doorway. The woman's soulless eyes stared unseeingly at the thatch roof. Already her body was starting to stiffen like a scarecrow knocked over in a field of carnage. He glanced over at the young woman, watching the way cooling blood soaked into the white fabric of her apron. How could he tell her child that she would never feel the solace of her mother's embrace again?

  Patrick's eyes darted around helplessly before settling on the only silver lining he could think of. “Um, the ogres are gone.” The brunette peeked up at him, her shoulders uncurling slightly, but upon meeting his eyes she tensed, hiding her face again. “They,” he swallowed around the lump in his throat, “they got everyone else.” His voice was shaky, eyes filled with the image of a broken form falling from the air. His hand slipped from the chest's lid to clasp tightly on the sword at his side. Abused muscles ached at the action. For a second, it felt like the floor was going to fall out from beneath him. His nails dug into the smooth leather wrapped around the hilt of his weapon to ground himself, shaking his head to dispel the image. Blood coated his tongue as he gouged his cheek with his teeth, stubbornly willing his breath into a steadier rhythm. It burned his lungs, but he had a job to do, and he was determined to see it through. “We need to leave, they are bound to return.” He took a deep breath. Slowly, so as to not startle her, he kneeled down. “Will you trust me?”

  The young girl slowly lifted her head. The sun from the window caught her form, highlighting every bit of evidence of her terror. The paleness of her skin. The dilated pupils. How tightly the faded fabric of her dress was bunched up beneath her hands. Her eyes darted toward him and away just as fast before they settled on the woman in the doorway.

  “Mama?” The singular word was a whispered tangle of hope and fear.

  Patrick bit his lip, trying to decide what to say. “Do you want to see her?” She nodded but made no move to get out of the trunk. Patrick reached his hand toward her, a weak smile crossing his face. “I’ll be with you the entire time.”

  The brunette glanced at him, seeming to truly see him for the first time. Her eyes bored into him for a moment before she clasped his calloused palm. He stood up and helped her to get out of the box, wincing as her fingers dug into a bruise on his wrist. As soon as she was on the ground, she stared down at her feet, watching her toes wiggle. The hand clutching his tightened briefly. Patrick’s gut twisted as she stared with some mixture of shock and relief at her feet, she had probably expected to never feel the ground again.

  The little girl followed after him as he made his way toward the entrance of the small home, her eyes immediately landing on her mother. Patrick sat down on the ground by the woman’s head, softly encouraging the girl to do the same. The floorboards creaked as they settled down by the corpse.

  The child leaned in immediately, hardly taking notice of the blood that soaked her knees. Her gaze never left her mother’s unblinking eyes. She slowly reached forward, hesitantly touching the woman’s cheek. A broken hum followed the movement. Her small fingers trailed through the woman’s hair. Blood and congealing carnage clung to the digits as she worked them through the tangles. The brunette didn't cower at the entrails that adorned the locks, her sole focus on the misty irises of her mother. The ground shook as a growl echoed through the trees encircling the village. A wooden cup, abandoned at its place at the table amidst the chaos and terror, clattered to the floor. Patrick tensed. The child, however, hardly reacted, her small form curling around the body, trying desperately to seek a heartbeat that had faded from the world.

  Part of Patrick wanted to give the woman a proper send-off. A burial or at the very least a prayer, but there wasn’t time. Even those few moments where the child clung to her mother were moments they didn’t have to spare. The village was no longer safe. It belonged to the beasts now. They needed to leave. Yet his tongue felt like a stone within his mouth. It took a few tries for him to break the silence.

  “We need to leave before the ogres return.” The girl’s fingers curled into a fist, clinging to the stained fabric of her mother's dress. She stared up at Patrick with haunted eyes. The knight bit his cheek and kneeled down. “Your Mama was a pretty woman,” the girl sniffled, “and I bet she was just as kind. She wouldn’t want you to stay here and get hurt.” The girl’s head dipped, her face hidden by her tangled hair. Patrick could feel his pulse at the tips of his fingers as he waited for her response. Each moment seemed to stretch longer than the last. Slowly, as if her head weighed more than her neck could withstand, she nodded her assent. Patrick exhaled. “Good.”

  He stood, and the girl followed his actions like a puppet. His hands reached out to steady her in the slick blood pooled beneath her feet. Her limbs were shaking now, though the girl seemed completely unaware as she soaked up her final few seconds in her mother's presence.

  They stepped outside, squinting against the light. Patrick couldn't help but think that it was odd that a day such as this was sunny and warm. It didn't seem right. Not when bodies were strewn about like wildflowers in spring. A distant roar filled the air, and Patrick’s hand tightened into a vice. Without a second thought, he picked up the young girl and held her close. Then they were off. The sound of the soles of his battered shoes hitting the cobblestone road rang throughout the lifeless village. Another roar echoed around them. They were getting closer, a cacophony that rattled the stones beneath Patrick's feet. His hand twitched where it was wrapped around the girl’s shoulders, instinctively searching for the hilt of his sword. With narrowed eyes, he zeroed in on the tree line. If they made it to that before the ogres returned to feast on the flesh of the dead, they might just make it out alive.

  ~~~

  He must have run for hours. In the panic, he wasn’t aware of choosing a direction to follow. He just knew he had to keep moving. The only thing that he was truly conscious of was the unsteady breath against his shoulder. It became a mantra for him, encouraging him when his legs threatened to give out or his arms began to slip under the weight they carried. It reminded him of his duty - of the oath he had taken to protect. He couldn’t give up. Not yet.

  It was only as the sky became a midnight blue that he finally slowed to a stop near a riverbank. With one last exhale of effort, he slumped to his knees and placed the girl on the ground in front of him. His whole body ached, a mixture of battle wounds and the arduous struggle through the woods. The cool ground soothed his heated skin. He wanted nothing more than to sink to the dirt and slip into slumber, but he knew that he couldn't. The girl was young and had not been trained to go without food as he had been. She must have been hungry, even if she was too overcome with fear to voice her desire to eat.

  So, despite the exhaustion burning through him, he stumbled toward the river. The girl followed behind him like a wraith. The gods must have pitied them because the silver scales of the fish glinted in the moonlight, making them easy to spot despite the dark sky. Even with his shaking limbs, he quickly managed to impale two fish onto a sharpened tree branch. They weren't the largest, but they would do. Within the hour, the fish had finished roasting over a small fire. Patrick was thankful for their strong scent, it covered up the smell of blood that clung to them like a fancy perfume. The girl took the cooked meat, holding it in her hands as if she was afraid it would be snatched from her grasp. Yet, she didn’t eat it, simply gazing at the steam rising from its surface and twirling into the darkness.

  “Do you not like fish?”

  The fire crackled. “Mama cuts it up for me.”

  Patrick was so exhausted that it took him a moment to register that the quiet words came from the ghostly girl at his side. Still, he felt utterly stupid once he got over the shock. The child barely reached his knees, of course she would need help cutting up her fish. What was he thinking? She was bound to choke on one of the tiny bones if he didn’t help. He hurriedly took the fish, ripped it up into bite-sized pieces and placed them on a small handkerchief for her to eat off of in lieu of a plate, thinking all the while about how out of stride he felt caring for a small child. Were the bite-sized chunks of fish too big for a child’s mouth? Did he cook it well enough? What if it gave her a stomach ache? Despite all the questions, he was thankful for the distraction, they kept the symphony of screams echoing in his head at bay.

  The girl stared down at the fish, her face entirely expressionless. Patrick watched her, unsure what else to do. The small fire glowed in the blue of the evening sky, its warmth blanketing them, yet the girl seemed to shiver. Yet, Patrick doubted it was from the cold. He had seen this before, in fellow knights weary from the horrors they faced in battle. It was damage to the soul rather than to the body that caused the chill coursing through her. Despite that, the girl slowly brought a chunk of the fish to her lips. She seemed to swallow it without tasting it, simply reaching for another small chunk.

  It was only as he was watching her that he realized that in his rush to get the girl out of the village, he hadn’t thought to ask her what her name was. He licked his lips, tasting dried blood and the salt of sweat. “What’s your name?”

  The girl froze for a moment, her eyes darting to and away from him. “Mama says not to tell strangers.”

  Patrick rubbed his neck, feeling the ache of sore muscles beneath his fingers. “Yeah, that makes sense.” A breeze rustled through the trees. “My name is Patrick.” The girl didn’t react, simply staring into the flames as they danced on the wind. He sighed, turning to stoke the fire.

  “Adeline.”

  He froze, afraid that if he reacted, she would startle. Slowly, telegraphing every movement, he continued his task. “It's nice to meet you, Adeline.”

  The rest of the evening was utterly silent except for the chatter of the flames. The two of them too caught up in the horrors of the day to speak. So they sat, shrouded in shadows, and tried to salvage what remained of their shattered souls. By the time Patrick fell into slumber, the girl had only moved so much as to lay on the grass to sleep.

  ~~~

  The next few days were harsh. Everything had been destroyed in the ogre attack, and they hadn't had time to gather resources before they left, which meant the only barrier between them and death was Patrick's training. They walked from dawn to dusk, acquiring along the way a copious amount of mud and foliage that clung to their clothes. That would have been fine for Patrick, annoying but doable. However, the girl significantly slowed his progress with her short strides. It wasn’t even that she was rambunctious. In fact, she had been eerily silent, following after him like a mute spirit. The silence left Patrick time to think. Too much time. Within his mind, he heard screams and cries. Wailing that ripped at his soul. There was the glare of light against sharpened metal and the zing of adrenaline keeping his battered body upright. The quiet suffocated him, clawing into his chest to marvel at his anguish-laden heart.

  It was the fourth day when that silence finally broke. They had been walking since dawn. The young girl followed him like a shadow as always when suddenly she stopped. Patrick only realized this after a few paces. He turned, confused at the loss of the quiet rhythm of her footsteps. She was standing there, her small frame dwarfed by the trees. Her hair hung in front of her face and her shoulders were shaking. Patrick only realized she was sobbing when she sniffed and reached up to rub at her nose. He knew he should comfort her, but he didn’t know what to do in the face of her tears. She looked up at him, her eyes red and her face twisted in grief.

  “I want my Mama.” Adeline reached out as if she could summon the woman with her cries, searching for the embrace of a woman left to nourish the worms.

  The knight kneeled in front of the child and pulled her to his chest. It was awkward and stiff, but Adeline melted into his grasp, as if all of the energy had been sucked from her at once. Her breath was coming out in hiccuping gasps, and Patrick could feel a wet spot growing on his shirt. It felt so odd to see this little girl, who had faced the trauma of the last few days with such strength, crumble at his feet.

  “I'm here.” The words weren't enough, but they were all he could muster.

  Neither of them spoke beyond that point. Maybe they should have, but at that moment, kneeling on the forest floor, the two of them felt like one soul. Together, under the shade of the trees, they shared in their joint grief. Each, in their own minds, remembering the little things that made the memory of their loss all the harder to bear. A warm smile. Enthusiastic laughter. A warm hug. A shoulder to lean on. The memories were painful to recall, their warmth stinging after the bitter chill of sorrow that had shrouded the last few days.

  Still, there was strength in those glimpses of happier days, and, by the time they continued on their way, they felt lighter. The grief did not disappear, but the breaking of the dam did relieve the pressure that aggravated the pain throbbing through them. Adeline stood at his side, hand clutching his, prepared as he was to face the future that awaited them - no matter what it held.

  ~~~

  “Patrick!”

  The knight turned from where he had just dealt a finishing blow to one of the ogres. Its heavy body crumbled to the ground like a tumbling pyramid of cards. His bloody sword dripped on the ground as he moved. Buzzing adrenaline coursed through him, muscles on fire in a way he had felt a thousand times before. He’d never felt more alive.

  He smirked, prepared to quip at Cody like usual when his eyes landed on his friend. The man was held in the grasp of an ogre, his face pale as he stared down at Patrick. His lips looked blue, and his face was twisted in pain. At the ogre’s feet laid Cody’s sword - shining uselessly in the midafternoon sun.

  “Patrick, help!”

  The ogre growled, eyes narrowed as it gazed down at the knight. He felt a shiver run down his spine at the yellow-tinted saliva dripping from its jaws. Sweat pooled under his armor. He raised his sword, the metal weapon shaking slightly in his hold for the first time in years. He gritted his teeth, refusing to take his eyes off of his friend. With a mighty yell, he raced forward, ready to feel blood gushing around his blade.

  Then, from one blink to the next, Cody was falling to the ground, his rib cage crushed in and his light eyes dull. Patrick screamed, his heart seizing in his chest. He scrambled toward his friend, cradling his broken form within his arms. Tears trailed down his face as warm blood soaked through his clothes. Then a shadow fell over them and Patrick looked up to see the ogre glaring down at them with sickly yellow eyes. Drool dripped from its lips as it lumbered closer.

  Patrick grasped his sword with one hand and with the other cradled Cody’s shattered chest against his own. With a cry unlike anything he had made before, he raised the sword above his head. Blood dripped from the blade, a mixture of the vile green of his enemy's blood and the rich red of the blood pooling around him.

  He wanted to scream a million things at the ogre. To spit curses at it and promise that he would give it the most horrifying of deaths. None of that happened, however. In fact, nothing happened as it should have. The world didn't fall into darkness as a set of sharp claws swiped at his head. There was no agonizing pain as his body slumped over his friend's. Instead, the sound of the battle going on around him fell away. Wide eyes darted around as the world froze.

  “She might have survived, you know.” Patrick turned his head to the side, seeing Adeline a few feet away. She was covered in blood and her eyes were dull. “You could have fought harder.”

  Patrick stared at her, tears clogging his throat. “I fought with everything I had.”

  “I’d still have a mother.”

  “There were too many of them.”

  “We could have lived peacefully.” She moved closer, blood trailing behind her. Her eyes fell to the body clutched in Patrick's arms. “He would have survived.”

  Patrick tightened his hold on Cody, his fingers curling around his limp torso. “No, it wasn't my fault.”

  “He’s gone now.” Her face twisted into a cruel smirk, nothing like the small smile that he had grown acquainted with in their search for civilization. Patrick's heart seized. The brunette giggled, her eyes filling with manic delight as she sneered down at the man. His blood felt like sludge within his veins, frozen amidst the horrifying visage before him.

  Then, with a blink, everything was gone. The battlefield. Blood-soaked skin. Those hate-filled eyes. Patrick woke up covered in sweat and clutching his chest. An echo of a cruel laugh in his ear. His eyes roved around wildly, searching for signs of the dark scene that had ensnared his slumbering mind. All he found, however, was Adeline leaning over him, her hair mussed from sleep.

  “You were having a nightmare.” Adeline was staring down at him owlishly, her brown eyes glinting in the embers of the dying fire. Despite knowing that it was only a dream, Patrick found himself analyzing the young girl’s face for any sign of the disappointment that had seemed all so real in his dream. Horrified eyes. Tensed limbs. Anything. Yet, as he searched he could find nothing, only concern apparent in wide eyes and raised eyebrows. She looked rather ethereal in the moonlight, a messenger from the gods to pull him from the confines of his mind.

  Patrick took a deep breath. “No, Adeline, everything's ok.” That was the right decision, wasn’t it? Was it bad to lie to a kid? He was going about this all wrong, wasn’t he? He was too tired for this, his whole body was sore from the residual adrenaline pumping through his body.

  Adeline quirked her head, her fingers twisting in the grass-stained hem of her skirt. Her eyes narrowed. “Do you want a hug?” Patrick blinked at her, his exhausted mind utterly blank. “Mama used to snuggle me when I had a nightmare,” Adeline continued in a wistful tone. The young girl's eyes sparkled with unshed tears as that familiar far-away look crossed her face. He could practically see the images playing across her mind. Warm arms. A gentle voice. The comfort only one's mother could provide. Patrick knew it well. A mother’s love was one of the few things the life of a knight couldn't scrub away. Adeline sniffled, the small sound sounding louder in the quiet of the night. Her dress rustled as she wiped her hand under her nose.

  “Sure, I’d like a hug,” Patrick said quietly.

  The little girl blinked before crawling closer. Unsurely, Patrick lifted his arms and allowed her to crawl between them. She immediately curled up, snuggling her cheek into his chest. He must have smelled awful, covered in sweat and mud as he was, but she didn't seem to mind. She blinked up at him. Despite the crystalline tears shining on her face, she smiled up at him reassuringly. “I'll take care of you. You can sleep now.”

  Patrick smiled down at her, a gentle warmth chasing away the last of the adrenaline coursing through him. “Thank you.”

  ~~~

  It started simply enough. Patrick should have recognized the signs, but he had been so focused on getting his young charge to safety that he barely registered the danger right under his nose. If only he had been paying more attention.

  They had stopped to get a drink from a river. The cool liquid had soothed Patrick's parched throat, but Adeline didn't want to drink. She hung close to his side, clinging to his mud-encrusted cloak. In fact, she had clung to him the entire day, sticking so close that Patrick worried about stepping on her toes. Still, he thought nothing of it, all his senses focused on their surroundings and the dangers prowling in the vast wilderness they were making their way through. His well-tuned ears tracked every little sound, from the rustling of leaves to the birds chirping in the distance. His hand was never too far from the sword that swung at his side. So he missed it - all the warning signs that should have tipped him off.

  They stopped at different sections of the mirror-like river two other times and, while Patrick had water dribbling down his chin, Adeline hardly wetted her lips. Still, Patrick thought nothing of it, so focused as he was on making their way to some form of civilization. He knew that the longer they stayed in the forest, the lower the chances of their survival. He became single-minded in his focus and despite his wounded body and the blaring heat, he was determined to trek a few more hours. By the time they went to bed in the brush, the air had chilled enough that his breath came out in a fine mist. Patrick was so tired, he simply wrapped around Adeline like a shield and slipped into the world of dreams.

  He was warm when he awoke. Warmer than he had been since he had left his home with its cozy blankets and blazing hearth. The small fires he constructed were no match for crisp evening air. He hummed happily, sitting up and groggily stretching his aching muscles. He couldn't wait to sleep on a bed again. It would never be like back home, but at least he wouldn't wake up and have to dig gravel out of his skin.

  “Adeline, it's time to get up.”

  There was no response. Patrick furrowed his brows. The brunette was usually as jumpy as a mouse caught in the claws of a barn cat. She shot up in the mornings with a wild, haunted look in her eyes.

  “Adeline?”

  He turned, gently shaking her shoulder to not startle her. That's when he felt it - the blistering heat clinging to her body. A sickening feeling settled in his bones as he twisted around and maneuvered the girl so that she was lying on her back. The child didn't wake up at the movement. The only response was a weak wheeze. Her cheeks, smudged in dirt from where they had been burrowed in the grass during the night, were feverish and red.

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  “By gods, no.” Patrick leaned over the girl, grasping at her arms as he shook her with a greater urgency. “Adeline, wake up.” His voice cracked with desperation. “Please wake up.”

  The only response was the shaky movement of her chest as she tried desperately to breathe in enough air. Patrick zoned in on the sound, forgetting everything else around him as he listened to the way the air rattled around in her chest. It sounded like the crackling of a fire or the way a wagon crushes the stones beneath its wheels. The sound sent a chill through Patrick.

  Panic coursed through him and, despite all of his training, tears gathered in his eyes. He bundled the girl up in his arms and stumbled to his feet, trying desperately to keep his mind off of crushed ribs and blue-tinted lips. His own injuries were utterly forgotten. The young child's head lay like a deadweight on his chest as he hurried off. It was hard to pull his eyes away from her face, to keep himself from analyzing every movement and stuttering breath. Were her cheeks redder than a minute ago? Was that breath weaker than the last? He could feel sweat accumulating where he held her. Her skin shone in the sunlight peaking through the pink dawn sky. He stumbled over his feet many times, gritting his teeth as his instincts clashed with the need to race to somewhere where he could get her help.

  ~~~

  Patrick hardly slept over the next few nights, travelling along the river in hopes of finding signs of other people. His heart raced the entire way, a drumbeat to push him forward even as his limbs tried to give out beneath him. He ripped off a part of his cloak and soaked it in water, bringing it to her chapped lips whenever her eyes fluttered open. Those moments were like a rush of fresh air, but they grew rarer and rarer as the hours went on. Any food he managed to get her to eat came back up. She was pale, face gaunt. The few hours of sleep he got were hardly restful, his hand at her wrist the entire time to ensure her flickering pulse wasn't snuffed out.

  It was on the third day that salvation arrived. Adeline hadn't awoken in over twelve hours, her form shaking with fever and her breath but a whisper. When Patrick saw the small village in the distance, he wept for joy, tears streaming down his stained face. He hardly had the strength to stand, and the world swam around him, but somehow he managed to pick up speed. He hugged Adeline close, a hysterical laugh breaking free as the blotchy brown spots morphed into houses as he drew nearer. Village life stopped around him as he stumbled onto the street, looking more animal than human with his wild eyes and dishevelled appearance.

  “Please, save her.” He indicated Adeline, presenting her to the villagers' curious gazes like a gift to the gods. “She's feverish and hasn't eaten in more than a day.” No one moved, staring at him like he was a rabid beast. “She's dying.” The words were a wail of terror.

  Then a voice, strong and clear, rang out. “Come now, surely you people aren't afraid of a little girl.” The throng parted like water. An old woman stepped forward, leaning heavily on a cane. Her eyes were warm, sparking with life. “Follow me, deary. I'll take care of her.”

  Patrick's shoulders slumped in relief as he drew Adeline to his chest once more. “Thank you.” The words were repeated over and over like a prayer as he followed the woman to a cottage at the edge of the village. The world faded away, the only thing that mattered was the little girl in his arms.

  ~~~

  “Will she be ok?” Patrick barely registered his surroundings as the old woman led him into the house. Adeline was his sole focus. The way she breathed. The shake in her limbs. All of it sent fear coursing through him. His heart was beating erratically, seeming to stumble with each wheeze of Adeline's breath. He desperately wanted to hold her even closer, but the heat of her body demanded that he restrain himself.

  The old woman didn't look back at him as they entered a small room. “She is young, if we can cool her down then she will survive.” She scurried over to a bed with the ease of a much younger woman and sat within the shade of a corner. “Place her here.” She pulled down the blankets. A small layer of dust floated into the air with the movement. “No blankets.”

  Patrick nodded, gently lowering the girl to the bed. She whimpered at the movement, her face scrunching up in distress. The rickety bed creaked under her feeble movements.

  “Patrick?” The young girl murmured, her hazy eyes searching unseeingly.

  “I'm right here, Adeline.” Patrick's voice was shaky as he ran his fingers through her sweaty hair. “I'll stay with you, I promise.”

  “Patrick?” She whimpered again. Fear coated the word despite how hoarse her voice was. She reached up as if reaching for the heavens. Tears pooled in Patrick’s eyes at how weak the movement was. Her limbs shook like thin branches in the harshest of storms.

  “Has she managed to keep any food down?”

  “Not much.” Patrick’s focus never left Adeline as he spoke. In fact, it felt like someone else was speaking entirely, his voice seemed to echo within his ears.

  “I’ll fetch some water, maybe we can get her to keep it down.”

  After that, everything was a blur. He and the woman spent hours at Adeline’s bedside. At one point, chairs had been brought in alongside a pitcher of water, a bowl, and some herbs. Patrick sat there, gently coaxing his young charge to take small sips of water. The young girl’s head had to be supported as the smallest amount of liquid was guided down her dry throat. His companion got up every half hour or so to use a wet cloth to wipe the sweat from her body. Adeline slept intermittently and while Patrick was thankful that she was resting, he couldn’t help but fear that the stillness of sleep would take a darker turn.

  It was only in the wee hours of the next morning that Patrick slowly moved his head - which felt much more heavy than it ought to - toward the woman and said, “Thank you.” He blinked, trying to force his blurry vision to focus. “I didn’t even catch your name, and yet you saved her life.”

  The woman smiled. The expression was soft despite her tired features. “I know well the love for a child,” she sighed, “as well as the pain of when that love is lost. Children are the greatest of treasures, and their love is priceless.”

  “Well, thank you, uh-.” Patrick smiled.

  “Ines.”

  “What?”

  “That’s my name - Ines.”

  Patrick rubbed his hand across his eyes. “Oh, sorry, I think I’m losing my ability to comprehend words.”

  “You should get some rest. The little miss will want to see you when she wakes up again, and you ought to have your wits about you.” Patrick turned to look at Adeline, his eyes scouring her form for any new signs of distress. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay up with her. With these old bones, I hardly get any sleep anyway.”

  Normally, Patrick would have declined. He was a knight, and he knew how to handle a sleepless night. A good portion of his early days in training had been spent standing guard with Cody until the early hours. This exhaustion, though, was one he had only become acquainted with after the destruction of the ogres' attack. It was tainted with the weight of emotion, a byproduct of the fear and horror that had been swirling within him since Adeline fell unconscious. It pulled at his limbs and made each blink feel effortful. The world around him felt almost unreal. So, he nodded, leaned back in his chair, and was asleep the moment his eyes closed.

  ~~~

  He awoke to his shoulder being shaken lightly and a voice calling out to him. “You're gonna want to wake up now.” He furrowed his brows, groaning as he registered the ache in his muscles. Slowly, he blinked open his eyes and rubbed a hand down his face, realizing distantly that he had shifted to sleep with his head resting on the mattress. His nose itched as he breathed in the musty scent.

  “Ines?”

  “I know you’re tired, deary,” Ines smiled at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners, “but the little one is waking up, and you should be the first to greet her.”

  Patrick shot up, his eyes immediately falling on Adeline. The young girl was covered in the remnants of sweat, her cheeks pink and her dark hair matted in a wreath around her head. She was frowning, moving sluggishly as she was drawn toward consciousness. The early morning sun trailing in from the window accentuated her unusually pale skin.

  “Adeline?” His voice was quiet, croaking slightly with the remnants of sleep. “Can you hear me?”

  The young girl groaned. A grimace flashed across her face. The old bed creaked as she sluggishly moved. The blue blankets twisted around her legs. Patrick glanced up at Ines, his eyes wide with worry.

  The old woman laid a hand on Adeline’s forehead. “It’s ok, deary. The fever isn’t completely gone, but it is lower.”

  Patrick turned back to the bed, his hand clutching the thin blanket tightly. “Adeline.”

  The brunette’s lips thinned, her hands shaking at her sides as they fisted. “Patrick?” The singular word was spoken on a weak, halting breath. Her eyes fluttered before slamming closed again.

  “Yes, yes, I’m right here.” He leaned even further over the bed, hardly caring about the way his back ached with the movement. He felt like he could hear his pulse in his ears.

  “Patrick,” she whimpered, “it hurts.” She blinked open her eyes. Patrick felt a rush of air leave his lungs as he noted the alertness reflected in the brown irises.

  “I know, we’re doing everything we can to get you better.”

  “I’m cold.” Adeline furrowed her brows, breath coming quicker as she started to tug the blankets further up her chest.

  “That may not be for the best, little miss,” Ines said as she gently pried the blankets from Adeline’s loose grip. “I know you feel cold, but you have a fever. Your body is making you shiver to scare away the heat.”

  Patrick leaned forward, gently grasping Adeline’s smaller hand in his. “I know it’s uncomfortable. Trust me, I have had enough battle wounds to know, but for now, you simply have to wait.”

  The young girl looked up at him, her half-lidded eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’ll stay with me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Promise?”

  Patrick smiled, wiping a stray tear with a calloused finger. “I promise.”

  “Alright.” Adeline relaxed, her head lolling to the side. “Can I sleep now?”

  Patrick glanced up at Ines, chewing his lip between his teeth. She nodded, her white hair bouncing within its loose bun. Patrick turned back to Adeline. “Yeah, you can sleep.” He trailed his thumb across her knuckles. “I’ll stay right here to watch over you.”

  “Okay.”

  The next time Adeline awoke, she was much more alert. She managed to drink some broth with Patrick’s help. Most of it ended up on the bed between Adeline’s shaky movements and Patrick’s difficulty dealing with such a small person, but Ines didn’t seem to mind. She stayed with the pair for as long as her aching bones could muster, getting up occasionally to answer the door and prepare food. Apparently, the whole village had been alerted to their rather panicked arrival. News of Adeline’s condition spread like fire and within hours people were over their concern over the strangers and showing up with food.

  During all their time together, Patrick found himself telling Ines about their journey and the horrifying ordeal that had started it all. It started out small, mentioning how the dullness in Adeline’s eyes matched the way she looked when he first met her. He hadn’t really intended to share much, content to keep the horrors trapped within the dark crevices of his mind. Ines, however, was just as crafty as the best knights he had ever met, prying at just the right moment and with just the right words to get him to speak. Within those long days where they sat vigil at Adeline’s side, Patrick found that he had told Ines everything, or at least everything his heart could bear to share.

  ~~~

  It took a couple more days for Adeline to be able to get out of bed. Her muscles were so weak the first day that she had to essentially cling to Patrick’s arm any time she needed to leave the bed. Slowly, however, she started to be able to move around more and more, until one day Patrick found himself sitting on the porch with Ines while they watched Adeline race across the yard.

  Ines leaned back in her rocking chair, following Patrick’s gaze to where Adeline was chasing a butterfly in the grass. She had a wide smile on her face. The pink dress one of the townswomen brought over didn’t fit quite right, but it was the best they could find at the moment. Adeline didn’t seem to mind, the hem already stained green from the grass.

  “She’s a good one, isn’t she?” The rocking chair squeaked as she spoke, crying out as it rocked on the rickety porch.

  “She is.”

  “She’ll be good for you, too.” Patrick blinked, turning to Ines with confusion written across his face. The old woman snorted. “You’re her Daddy now, son. Didn’t you notice?”

  “Surely not. She needs a mother. I have no experience with children. Didn’t even have siblings.”

  He turned back to look out into the yard as Adeline’s tinkling laugh reached them. She was sitting in the middle of the yard, staring with her mouth agape at the butterfly sitting delicately on the tip of her finger. A fond feeling warmed Patrick’s chest.

  “Uh-huh, you keep telling yourself that, son. You can’t hide from me. That smile tells me everything I need to know.” Patrick tried to hide his reaction to her statement but found he couldn’t help but raise a brow. “That little girl has seen things people thrice her age shouldn’t have to see. Sadly, we don’t live in a fair world, but we get through it by surrounding ourselves with people who help us through the tough times. Like it or not, that little girl out there chose you, and deep down, son, you know you chose her too.”

  Ines groaned as she got up and padded toward the door. “Think about it at least. You two are welcome to stay for as long as you wish. Having some young people around may liven this place up a bit.”

  ~~~

  Patrick sat alone for a while, watching the young girl play. Ines' words repeated over and over within his mind. Soon enough, the sky started to darken, and he returned inside to help the elderly woman make dinner. The scent of meat and herbs floated around the hearth, making his mouth water as he slipped on a spare apron. He was still learning, they had had a rather awful casserole a few nights back, but he was at least half-decent with a knife. Ines had been thrilled to put him to work, stating that her arthritis made chopping up vegetables a rather painful task. That evening, however, his mind wasn’t fully engaged with the task at hand and the vegetables he cut up were not the uniform little chunks he usually produced.

  Instead, his mind wandered. He couldn’t help but think of his time with Adeline and all they had endured together. From the moment he had found her curled up in that chest, he had felt a connection to her. She had lost everything, just like him. The town she had grown up in, the routines that had governed her life, and the people who mattered most. Despite that connection, he couldn’t help but be terrified of staying with her. A part of him was afraid that she would be a constant reminder of the day he had lost Cody, a living ghost to haunt him for the rest of his life.

  “I need some air.” He put the knife down, the metal clanking against the cutting board, and walked out the door without another word. His palms were sweating, and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. The world felt like it was unthreading around him, the houses he had become acquainted with over the last couple of weeks crumbling to ruins before his eyes.

  Everything was spinning around him. He barely made it out of eyesight of the little house before his knees crumbled beneath him. Stones dug into his skin, but he couldn't bring himself to care. With a single-minded focus, he scrambled to the base of a tree and curled up beneath its shielding canopy.

  There was blood everywhere. It coated everything. The once verdant plants were dripping crimson. He could hear it splashing at his feet. He scurried further back, the bark of the tree scrapping against his spine. His nails clawed into his scalp as the breath was ripped from his lungs, leaving his chest burning as if a poker had been shoved down his throat.

  He could hear it all. The sharp clang of swords and the cries of his comrades, those that he had protected and who had protected him in turn, fell dead around him. He could feel the searing pain of his shaking limbs as he swung his sword with all his might. The taste of bile, bitter and biting, coated his tongue as he desperately tried to suck air in. It was overwhelming. All-consuming.

  “Please,” he begged, his cry an echo of the tortured soul imprisoned in his mind's eye. “Please leave me be.” His knees dug into his chest as he curled up beneath the brush. His vision blurred.

  The ogres growled, their cries a terrifying cacophony that shook the trees to their roots. He could feel the grime on his face and could taste the sweat on his lips. At that moment, the nightmare was more real than anything else. It was greedy, taking away the warmth of the sun and the scent of the grass. All that was left was fear, and grief, and death. So much death. Misty eyes that had once danced livelily. He was alone, tripping over corpses as he tried with all his might to take down the creatures and yet, he knew the worst was to come.

  Cody - who had been his companion all his life - slipped away all too easily, his lifeblood draining from him in a deluge of red. He had been with him through everything. They had gone to the tavern together, abuzz with laughter beneath the warm glow of lanterns. Trained together, building each other up when the aches and pains seemed endless. Cody had become his foundation and, without him, the knight felt like a lone ember - doomed to be swallowed by the darkness.

  Patrick sat there for what felt like hours, his mind wrapped up in the horrors slipping further into the past day by day. Struggling against the grip his fear had on him was exhausting, and it took many tries for him to register the world around him once more. Dripping blood. Pink flowers. Screams. Moonlight. The battle between past and present waged within his mind until finally, he felt like reality was once more within his grasp. With sweaty palms and half-lidded eyes, he managed to get up and make his way back home.

  ~~~

  He was shaky, his limbs quivering beneath him. He collapsed onto the porch, grasping at the wood as he took steadying breaths. Now that the symphony of the world had returned to him, he was able to use it to ground himself. The chill in the air. The moon's rays. Blue skies and the scurrying of nocturnal life. It grounded him, not chasing away the darkness but at least giving him something else to focus on in the murky gloom.

  “I thought it was bedtime.”

  Patrick jerked at the sound of Adeline's voice. He glanced over his shoulder, the wood of the porch creaking with the movement, to see the brunette peeking out from behind the door. A warm smile flitted across his face. He patted the space next to him. The young girl padded toward him, her toes peeking out from under the oversized nightgown.

  “That only applies to children.”

  “That isn’t fair. Why do you get to stay up later?”

  “Ines and I are done growing.”

  “But Ines is already asleep. She’s snoring.”

  Patrick’s smile grew, mirth flashing in his eyes. “Is she now?”

  Adeline leaned against him. “Yeah, I can hear her from my bed.”

  He wrapped an arm around her, tugging her even closer. “Is that why you’re up?”

  Adeline squirmed. “Maybe.”

  He snorted, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hide his laughter. Adeline started to giggle at his side. Her whole body seemed to twitch with humor. The collective sound seemed to hum with energy, making them feel weightless. They leaned into each other, trying desperately to draw breath into their lungs and wipe joyful tears from their eyes.

  Eventually, they managed to get themselves under control. Adeline slumped against him, her energy spent. Still, the remnants of that delightful energy hung around them. It drew their attention to the dust picked up from the road, the leaves that rustled in the trees, and the stars that glowed from above. Patrick exhaled, his muscles relaxing as if they were made of melted wax.

  “The stars are pretty, aren’t they?” The words were soft, spoken in such a manner as to not dispel the magic they were under.

  Adeline nodded, her eyes half-lidded. “Do you think Mama can see them too?”

  Patrick glanced down, analyzing his companion for signs of stress. Finding none, he turned back toward the sky. “I think she’s among them.”

  “Really?”

  “Mhm.”

  “Do you know anyone in the stars?”

  Patrick’s throat constricted for a moment - his mind flashing to a sunny day splattered in blood. He took a deep breath, slowly willing his body to relax once more. He looked up to the stars, his gaze searching each blinking light in turn. A bittersweet smile pulled at his lips.

  “Yeah, I’d say so.”

  She perked up, her eyes filled with curiosity. “Who?”

  “His name was Cody.” The words felt too big in his throat, constricting his breathing. He rubbed his thumb across his opposite arm. “He went to the stars the same day your Mama did."

  Adeline swung her legs. “Do you think they're friends?”

  Patrick looked up at the twinkling stars. “I'd suspect so.”

  “Do you think Mama misses me?” She nuzzled her cheek into his side as she spoke. Her warmth seeped into him.

  “Yeah, I know she does.” Patrick blinked up at the stars, watching the way they glittered against the navy sky. A light breeze tickled his cheek. He could hear the trees rustling along the street.

  Adeline buried her nose into his shirt. “How do you know?”

  “She loves you.” Patrick glanced down, a warm feeling rushing through him as their eyes connected. He didn’t know quite how to describe it. It was the sensation of someone drying tears or soft lips on one’s forehead as a final wish for sweet dreams. Whatever it was, Patrick held onto it like a vow.

  Adeline hummed, her eyes falling closed. He stroked her hair, a soft smile stretching across his face. They sat like that for a while, awash in starlight, before Patrick picked the little girl up, cradling her to his chest like he had all those weeks prior, She buried her head under his chin, snuffling contentedly and blissfully asleep. Patrick quietly made his way to her room, tucking her in cozily. She nuzzled into the pillow. The knight watched her as she settled, his chest flooded with warmth.

  Softly, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You are the brightest light this world has ever seen.”

  Then he closed the door, satisfied that his young charge would sleep the rest of the night away, and made his way to his own bed. He was exhausted, eyes half-lidded and muscles aching from residual tension. He slipped into sleep, maybe not so easily as Adeline, but after the waking nightmare the nothingness of sleep was a cherished gift.

  ~~~

  The weeks passed. They weren't exactly perfect. He and Adeline each had their hard days. She would become still and quiet, and he would retreat into the shadows, but they managed, and Ines was always there after a long day to provide warm food and a kind smile. Patrick felt like he had stepped out of a nightmare and into a dream. They laughed together, and Patrick couldn't help but indulge all of Adeline's childish fancies. He proudly showed off the many flower crowns that his young charge placed on his head - the two adults sharing warm smiles as Adeline presented him to the elderly woman. Soon the knight couldn't imagine his life without Adeline or Ines. The three of them became inseparable - more tight-knit than many blood-related families. While the grief was an ever-present specter, their lives were filled with joy. Soon the weeks turned to months, and before long a year had gone by, and they stood at summer's doorstep once more.

  In that time they had become acquainted with the daily lives and traditions of the village. While Patrick still grew homesick, he came to love their new home. Adeline thrived amongst all the children, her weary eyes clearing of strife. In the blink of an eye, it came time for the community to celebrate the return of the warmer months, a festival that Patrick had come to learn brought everyone together with homey food and dancing. The village had been filled with excitement for its arrival for weeks, discussing what they were going to bring and where they were going to place the decorations as they stopped to chat in the dusty streets.

  Finally, the day arrived. Late into the evening, Patrick and Ines took Adeline to the celebration. Her eyes were alight with wonder as she looked at the lanterns hung from the trees and the colorful ribbons billowing in the breeze. Adeline's flower crown barely stayed on her head as she raced off to play with the other children. The adults shared a happy moment as they watched her mingle before going to enjoy the punch and food spread out throughout the area. The sound of pleasant conversation filled the air, and couples were dancing to jaunty music. It was a pleasant evening and soon Patrick was swept up in the uplifting energy, laughing and chatting with a biscuit in hand.

  Time passed quickly amidst the bliss, and soon hours had passed. Patrick had shifted to stand farther out, enjoying the swaying of the grass and the hum of the wind. The yellow light from the lanterns was fading as people started to pack up. He watched from a distance for a while, taking in his home with appreciation.

  “Daddy!”

  Patrick turned to see Adeline running towards him, the pink flowers in her hair bouncing atop her head. Her cheeks were flushed, and she had a wide smile on her face. Clutched in her small hands was a sparkler. The light flickered across her face, making it look as if fireflies were circling her form. Patrick lowered himself to her height, stretching out his hands as she flew towards him. His cheeks ached as he reflected her smile back at her. When Adeline reached him, she hopped into his arms. She was practically vibrating with excitement.

  “Look what I got!” She showed him the sparkler as he stood back up, lifting her off the ground as he went.

  “That’s beautiful, Adeline. Where did you get it?”

  “Mrs. Josephine gave it to me.” She pointed over to one of the sweet village women manning one of the stalls.

  “Did you thank her?”

  “Uh-huh.” Her chest puffed up.

  He couldn’t help but chuckle at the childish display of pride. He gently stroked a finger across her knuckles. The digit came away sticky from the residue of whatever sweets Adeline had eaten during the festival. He watched the light flicker between them, glowing all the brighter beneath the dark sky.

  Patrick kissed the top of her head, gently rocking back and forth as her limbs relaxed in his hold. “It looks like a star.”

  “Like Cody and Mama?” Adeline leaned her head on his shoulder as she spoke, the words coming out quietly as her eyes drooped.

  “Just like them.”

  Adeline nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck. “Good.”

  Sighing, Patrick closed his eyes as he listened to her breath even out. Slowly, he removed the sparkler from her loose grip, watching as the last of the light faded away. Soon the two of them were doused in darkness. The only sound was the rustling of the grass and the soft hum of Adeline’s breath. Above them, the stars shone in the sky, their silver glow providing what light remained.

  Patrick looked up at the night sky, tightening his hold on Adeline as he stroked his fingers through her hair. His eyes roved from star to star, taking in their brilliance one by one. “I don’t know if either of you are up there or even which stars you would be, but thank you for bringing her to me. She’s marvelous.” He rested his chin on Adeline’s head. “I’ll take care of her always. I promise.”