The Willow (Part 2), Scene v1

“Thank you, mother. And I’m sorry for suddenly showing up like this.”

“Not at all. You’re always welcome home.” She tried a piece of the meat, chewing on it laboriously. “Seems I made it a little tough again.”

As they talked over dinner, he was glad he visited home again. His mother always knew he hated it when people pried into his personal life. Instead, they talked about poetry, as they usually did, and it was more than welcomed. Although it eased his spirits a little, he still couldn’t get the sight of Isella’s death out of his mind, or the possibility that it may not even have been her that was executed. He had to see if that Kival was leaving him a message.

“I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll be back later tonight, okay?” said Lucas.

“Sure thing, Lucas. I’ll leave the porch light on for you. It’s cold out so make sure you stay warm. Wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

Lucas walked upstairs to his room to grab his winter cloak. It was weaved with thick fur. He was never really one to wear fur, but it always kept him nice and toasty. Stepping out of his room, he saw the closed door across from his. The flower ornament dangled from the handle like it always had. The door creaked as it opened. The room looked exactly the same, only with a thin layer of dust. Isella always kept her room clean, and it always looked bare. She always preferred plain sheets and blankets. Apart from her bed, there was only an armoire and a desk. Even the desk was plain, with two books, a small lamp, and the stuffed cat Lucas gave her for her sixteenth birthday. It amazed him how much her room told about her life. She never needed much in her room because she was always helping around the store and spending time with him and his mother. He only wished those days would somehow once again become reality.

He took one last look around her room and closed the door behind him. As he turned back to the stairs, his mother was standing there, watching him with a small frown. She held out a pair of wool gloves. “Be sure to keep your hands warm. They may be a bit big, though.”

It pained him to see his mother be so supportive. He wanted to tell her everything, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it. “Thanks, mother. I’m sorry, I’m just not ready to talk about it yet.”

She gave him a long hug, finishing with a kiss to the forehead. Her reassuring smile always touched his heart. “Whatever you need, Lucas. I’ll always be here for you.”

Lucas gave her one last hug before heading out into the chilly autumn night. The sun had just fallen beyond the horizon, painting the sky a deep crimson red. Branches clearly peeked out from between the shedding trees, the leaves littering the floor with yellows and oranges.

Darkness crept over the land by the time Lucas reached the willow by the riverside. He sat on the cold boulder beneath the willow leaves, cursing himself for carelessly letting his emotions control his actions. Deep down, he knew that it was Isella that was executed earlier that morning, yet for some reason he still found himself hoping that Kain had kept his word.

A loud crunch spun Lucas’ head around. Twigs snapped with every footstep, and there were at least five sets of them. He hopped to his feet and drew his sword, eyeing the woods behind the willow. The footsteps fanned out around him, their shadows moving through the trees. His eyes surveyed the shadowed woods frantically. He could hear the creaking of bows being pulled and readied.

A man walked into sight with his worn linen hood drawn over his head. The moonlight licked his face, revealing a thinning face with a small scar across his top lip. Only his right eye was visible, sunken and tired. His black Kival eyes glinted in the moonlight as a grin crossed his face. “I’m glad you came, Lucas.” Lucas took a step forward, but Kain quickly put a hand out. “Stay where you are if you want to live.”



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