Huguel

3

"She… she had to go somewhere. She needed to go somewhere else, away from the town because…" Hugo hesitates, not wanting to talk about things that he shouldn't be talking about. "Because it was unsafe for me... because of what I did." he adds after he realises that he may as well say what he did.

"So that's how it is? That's why you took those people to that forest? Your mother told me that there was some kind of accident that caused you to turn bad, that you killed someone in self-defence, but your mother didn't want to tell me what happened after that.”

Hugo nods sadly, “I… I’m sorry. It’s just… my mother…” he starts speaking before stopping himself and taking a deep breath before continuing. "I'm sorry for hurting someone like that, I really am. But I wasn't going to let my brother suffer like that and I had to protect him."

The man shakes his head. “So you turned yourself in? You really think that that was the best idea? Because it sure looked to me that you ran away from the scene of the crime.” he pauses for a moment before smirking slightly. "You've changed a lot since then." he mutters.

Hugo shakes his head vigorously before speaking up again. “My dad said that I had to go back. He said that I had to do whatever he asked me to do to make the pain stop. He also said… he wanted me to be strong enough to fight.” Hugo pauses for a second as he looks down at the ground, unsure of whether or not he should say the next sentence. “I… I promised him. I promise I’d be a better fighter when I got older, so… so I’ll be stronger than him. Strong enough to help everyone and save our village from destruction.” His voice trembles as he continues talking. It seems as though every word that leaves his mouth feels heavier as it passes through his lips. “That’s what he asked me. To be strong enough to defeat the evil sorcerer. I-” his words are interrupted as someone suddenly grabs him by the hair and forces him to lift his chin

up, his eyes meeting with the stranger’s.

"I don't really feel like discussing such boring things with a little kid right now." he says as he pushes Hugo backwards, forcing him to fall into the dirt, “Do you want to talk about something else? Like what we need from you right now? Tell me, what do you think about these children? They must have killed some of our men so you think you could tell me more about them?" he finishes as he crouches down and runs his fingers through the fur on one of the wolves’ heads. “These boys are good looking. Do you want to marry one of them?” Hugo stares up at him uncomprehendingly, his cheeks flushed red and his heart beating painfully fast against his chest.

‘What?! What the hell is he saying?!’ he exclaims silently to himself, his stomach twisting anxiously inside him. He tries to ignore his racing thoughts and focus on the present situation and think quickly. ‘I need to get away, he’s going to hurt me! I need to run away!’ He attempts to rise to his feet but the man grabs him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him back down to the ground, pinning him to the ground while his hands are locked together behind his back.

“Tell me, why did you kill all those people?” he repeats. “Did you do it to keep my men safe? Or did you decide to attack them because you felt betrayed? Did you even realize that you were killing those people that you love the most in the world?” He laughs mockingly, as he lifts the knife in his hand and presses it dangerously close to Hugo’s neck.

He struggles to free himself from the hands holding him down, struggling to reach for the knife but failing miserably as he feels it pressed even harder against his skin. His breathing quickens as he stares helplessly at the person he loves the most. ‘Please! Please, please don’t do this! Don’t hurt me!’ The tears begin rolling down his cheeks. ‘It’s not fair! Why does this have to happen? I don’t want to die. I’ve just arrived here! I haven’t lived a life like everybody else! Why does everything I do have to be taken away from me!?’ He feels hot tears running down his face and dripping onto the ground as he fights the hold that the man keeps on his arms and legs, trying to find a way out of the trap that is surrounding him.

He hears footsteps approaching him before he hears a loud crash, which causes the man to let go of him. He scrambles backward and falls down in a heap, gasping for air as he stares up into the sky, seeing that it’s covered by a thick layer of clouds. The sudden change in atmosphere causes a wave of panic to hit him as he begins panicking, scrambling backwards until he finds himself pressed against the edge of the cliff, his back pressed firmly against it.

“Get away from me!!” he yells, trying in vain to push himself away from the man standing in front of him as the man approaches him with caution. He closes his eyes shut when he feels the man’s cold, clammy hands caress his face, forcing him to look into his lifeless eyes once again. ‘No, stop, no! Please stop touching me!’ he thinks, closing his eyes tightly once again, desperately trying to move away, even if he knows that there's no escaping.

He feels the man grab his wrists and begin pulling on them harshly, causing him to scream in pain, his vision beginning to blur as the man squeezes his hands together in an iron grip. He opens his eyes slowly, only to see the man standing right in front of him, staring straight ahead, watching him.

His blood freezes in his veins, his breaths become ragged and uneven as he sees the look in the man's eyes, a mixture of pure anger and hatred.

"How many times have I tried to give you a chance?" he growls, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.

Chapter 2

"This is it. This will do it."

"No, wait, I don't think this-"

"What if I break them?!"

"But, I can't do it! My magic isn't working!"

"You're supposed to be stronger than that!"

"...I'm sorry..."

"Are you listening to me, boy? Are you listening to me?!"

His gaze focuses on the blurry figure in front of him. A small whimper escapes him. "...yes, Sir..." he whispers, almost inaudible.

"Good. Now stay quiet." he says calmly, ignoring Hugo’s attempt to interrupt him. "I need to concentrate."

The room spins around him as he falls forward, his hands slamming onto the floor before he hits the ground hard, his body throbbing as he stares blankly upwards. There is nothing around him; just darkness. He can hear voices in the distance, muffled through the walls, but he doesn’t try to understand their words. Instead, he lets his mind wander, drifting to where he last saw the beautiful woman from earlier, the one who saved him, and the thought makes his heart clench.

She has gone far away from him now, and he has no idea where she went or if she is still alive. All he knows is that he is glad that she’s finally gone and he misses her terribly already. But his memories of her, the feelings he has towards her, and the longing to kiss her and hold her again, all of it makes him want to cry. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t even really know her that well, and yet, his longing for her is so strong, especially considering that they barely spoke to each other for more than a few minutes, but nevertheless, the feeling makes him feel incredibly lonely.

He wonders where his father is right now. Is he thinking about him, worried about his whereabouts? He hopes not, because he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if anything happened to him or if his father blames him somehow for all of this. After all, he’s the reason why his father was forced to leave his family, leaving his mother and sister and the two young girls behind. No. If anything happens to his father it would break his heart beyond repair. He couldn’t bear it if anything bad were to happen to him. He doesn’t know how long he sat alone on the floor staring into space for, but eventually, his exhaustion starts getting the best of him and he soon drifts off to sleep.

He wakes up feeling completely exhausted. His head is pounding, his throat is dry and he feels sick to his stomach. As he raises his hand to touch his head, he feels something wet on his fingers. With a groan, he opens his eyes, noticing that it is dark outside. ‘So this is what death looks like...dark and depressing…’ he thinks bitterly to himself.

He looks over to his side and immediately notices his father lying on the floor across from him. Tears are streaming down the old man's wrinkled face, although his eyes seem dull and lifeless, as if they had given up. ‘How…how is he...?’ Hugo asks himself, feeling confused. Suddenly he realizes that his own clothes have been torn in many places, revealing the deep scars that line his pale, thin body. ‘Oh, god, they were really serious this time…’ He feels like he’s going to faint.

He takes several deep breaths trying to calm himself down

, but it proves difficult with his father sitting next to him. “Father?” he calls softly. His father doesn’t react, nor does he acknowledge Hugo’s presence, as he lies motionless on the ground, breathing shallowly, staring unblinkingly into the darkness of the cave. Hugo hesitates before continuing: “Can you come with me? Please?” His father makes no indication that he heard him or has acknowledged his existence as he continues to stare at the wall ahead of him, unmoving, breathing deeply as he sits unmoving against the wall. Hugo watches him for a moment longer before carefully climbing to his feet and walking cautiously over to him. ‘Is he dead?, he wonders briefly, before shaking his head slightly. He crouches down next to him and puts a tentative hand upon his shoulder. “Sir…are you alright..?” He pauses to look at him questioningly, hoping that he’ll say something, but he remains silent, his breathing shallow. Hugo gives up on trying to coax anything out of him as he gets to his feet and leaves him, walking quietly towards the entrance of the cave as he walks, trying to figure out what he should do now.

He stops suddenly when he hears the sound of someone coming near the cave, looking around cautiously as he tries to locate the source of the noise. When he recognizes the soft footsteps that belong to a child carrying a torch, he quickly steps aside so that they won’t bump into him, hiding his face inside his cloak. They pass by him without pausing in their steps, their steps echoing through the tunnel before they disappear from sight. It isn’t until then that he realizes that he’s trembling. He feels as if he could collapse in on himself any minute now, feeling as though all the strength has left his body, leaving him feeling weak and drained, ready to succumb to the pain he’s sure is coursing through his body. Slowly, he lowers himself back to the ground next to his father, letting the tears run freely down his cheeks as his knees sink into the dirt below him. ‘Why…why am I crying?? How am I crying?? What happened?? What am I supposed to do?!’

A part of him wants to run away. He desperately wants to get lost, to escape from this place and the memories that are constantly flashing before his eyes. That, of course, goes against every fiber in his being telling him to stay put, to not run away. So he stays where he is, curled up into a ball, shivering violently. The only thing that seems to help him is the soft light radiating from the torch that the girl brought along. He watches it, mesmerized, wishing that it would make the pain go away faster, but even then, he knows that it’s no use. It will take much longer for him to fully recover from this.

It’s another hour before the girl finally returns with a cup of water, which she hands to him while she keeps talking to him softly through gritted teeth as she kneels on the floor next to him, placing her arm under his legs to help him sit up. Hugo drinks the water obediently, his mouth too numb to protest against whatever the strange girl may say at the moment, as his eyes remain fixed on the water dripping from the cup in his hands, slowly filling it with air. His thoughts drift off in circles as he tries to think of what to do next, the only thing preventing him from completely losing his sense of reality at the moment being the burning pain spreading throughout his entire body.

He hears her sighing in frustration as she stands up and grabs her bow, which she throws back over her shoulder onto her back. “Alright, fine. You win. We’ll do it your way…but this time, don’t forget what we’ve agreed on – you’

ll follow my instructions, no matter what they are, do you understand?” he nods in response, his whole body still trembling. She takes another glance at him, frowning, before starting towards the cave’s exit, holding out a hand in an effort to pull him up from the floor by his shoulders.

Hugo takes it without hesitation. His muscles are stiff and sore after spending hours upon hours in that position. Once standing, she lets go of his arm, her expression softer this time as she reaches her hand out to brush stray curls from his forehead. Hugo flinches backwards reflexively, causing her hand to drop to her side. “That hurts…!” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and bringing his hands up to cover his ears to shield his sensitive hearing from the piercing screams.

When he feels a gentle hand brushing against his arm, he opens his eyes. It’s the woman who took care of him earlier; she seems concerned and apologetic, despite her cold and detached attitude. “I apologize,” she says softly, sounding very sincere and understanding. “But I am afraid that you cannot avoid this forever. This is necessary.” Hugo shakes his head furiously in agreement. He knows it’s important, but still he can’t stand it. The pain is already enough for him. He knows this, he just doesn’t see the point of suffering more than he needs to do. He also knows that he’s the cause of his parents’ unhappiness and that he has to endure the consequences. He has no choice in the matter anyway. And as his father once said, ‘Life sucks and people suck’ and ‘You always pay for it later’. ‘Well, I’m gonna pay now’, he tells himself.

The girl leads him up the stairs to a small room with a wooden plank bed, two chairs next to the bed, a table with some books on top of it, a basin filled with water and soap (of which both smells extremely sweet) on the table and two large bags sitting beside each other, one bigger than the other. She gestures towards the larger bag and tells him, “This will serve as your clothes for tonight, and these are clean towels. You need to wash yourself first. Then, after you've taken your bath, you will change into these, and then you will eat and try to get some rest. Tomorrow, you can start preparing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hugo murmurs respectfully. He stares at her as she turns around and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her.

‘What should I be doing now…?’ he thinks. He glances at the bag and sees a pair of shorts inside. He decides that it’s best to strip off his wet clothes and step into them before getting the towel and wiping himself dry. As soon as he steps out of the room he can hear the rustling noise again, as he walks into the little room and takes off his cloak. After taking a couple of deep breaths, he walks up to the basin and starts rinsing his hair vigorously. After washing himself thoroughly, he steps out of the tiny bathroom, his hair still slightly damp, and grabs the towel that she gave him.

“Here, sir,” she says politely, handing him the clothing. He doesn't respond, instead simply taking the clothes and putting them on. He stands awkwardly next to the bed, waiting anxiously as she prepares his food and a cup of water for him to drink. A few minutes later, she brings everything back to him. Once finished eating, she sits on her chair as she waits patiently for him to finish drinking the glass of water. She watches him closely the whole time, her eyes boring into his, studying his features, observing him carefully. He notices her watching him with concern etched deeply into her brow. He averts his eyes nervously, looking down at his lap. ‘What’s the matter with me? Why do I have to feel like I’m being watched...like this? What’s wrong with me….?’ He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, unable to contain the shudder that runs through his entire body at the sudden realization that she might possibly know about his condition. ‘She wouldn’t tell anyone else, right? Right??...Right??!! ’ The fear he’d been fighting the past hour begins creeping up once more, threatening to overwhelm him as he swallows hard, forcing himself to breathe through his mouth, concentrating on the sound of his own breathing. The sound seems to help somewhat, calming him almost instantly. He raises his head again, gazing blankly ahead of him for a long moment before turning his attention back to the girl who had given him the clothes.

“Thank you…,” he mumbles quietly, nodding in her direction. “Please…don’t tell anyone, please…” The girl smiles warmly at him and replies: “Of course, sir.” He nods in return and looks away from her

, staring directly out the doorway, not wanting to look back into her eyes anymore. ‘I just hope she won’t ask any questions. Or maybe she could…just…keep mum. Just don’t ask anything. Don’t give her a reason to question me or to treat me differently. Just keep silent and let her work things out on her own.’ He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to think of something else, anything else. Anything except that damn face…that damned face that has haunted him ever since he met it yesterday. Suddenly, there is a loud knock on the door.

His heart jumps into his throat. ‘s**t!!! What if it’s her, what if it’s the man she told us to leave alone!! Oh God! No, no, no, no, no!! Not now!! Please, please just leave me alone! Don’t come in!! Leave me alone! I don’t want you in here!! Please!!’ He can’t move or speak or think, his thoughts are screaming at him so loudly that it sounds like someone else yelling. ‘Not now..please don’t!...Please…leave me alone!!’ But she doesn’t stop knocking, and he doesn’t know why; he doesn’t even know what she wants, where she wants him to go, what she wants him to do now. Her words echo in his mind over and over again like a mantra, echoing around and around inside of his skull. The longer the seconds pass, the louder they become until he starts imagining all those terrible things that could happen if he stays, that could make him choose between them and his parents. They would never forgive him for betraying them – they would kill him if he even tried to escape. If he stays here, he’s certain that it’ll end badly. So many times he has imagined it in his dreams. He remembers how happy they seemed together during their journey through the woods that day – how his father held her close while kissing her forehead lovingly every time he came home from work, when she smiled so brightly whenever he brought his friends round to visit. He can feel tears welling up in his eyes at the images his brain conjures up, the tears rolling down his cheek uncontrollably as the scene replays itself in his mind endlessly.

‘It can’t be true, it can’t be…why isn’t she leaving?!’ the boy sobs, shaking his head in denial. He hears footsteps outside of the door and his blood freezes; it's too late. His eyes dart around frantically, his chest beginning to rise rapidly. His breath becomes erratic as he tries to fight against the overwhelming panic filling him, trying desperately to stay calm – stay strong. ‘Don’t worry, I can handle this’, he tries to reassure himself but fails miserably. He takes a shaky inhale of air and holds it for a moment before exhaling slowly as he attempts to steady himself. ‘Calm down,’ his mind tells himself. But he doesn’t listen – instead he panics even more. ‘It can’t end like this, I have to get out…,’ he tells himself. ‘They’re probably gonna kill me…,’ his mind whispers back. But he pushes the thought aside because he doesn't want to think that way anymore - he just doesn't want it to be true - his mind telling him that he can get away, run away, and live in peace without being found out or punished. He doesn’t want to die in prison. His parents were kind to him…they didn’t deserve such harsh punishment, especially since they were good people who only wanted what was best for him.

He continues to sit there for a minute, his breathing coming in ragged pants. After another couple of minutes, he slowly stands up, still keeping an eye on the door and waiting, trembling all over. Another minute passes and he’s finally able to hold his breath no longer and gasps for air. He feels weak from holding it for so long and falls backwards onto the mattress, panting heavily, still clutching onto the edge of the blanket. He shuts his eyes tight as he tries to regain control of his breathing and senses. ‘I have to calm down…if I start freaking out again they’ll know, they’ll kill me… I can’t risk it…,’ he repeats silently, repeatedly repeating this thought as he tries to force himself to relax, to remain as calm as possible. It helps a bit, but he still doesn’t have enough control over his breathing nor his heartbeats to keep track of time, so it takes him several more minutes before he manages to calm himself down.

When his breathing slows down again, Hugo looks at the door, waiting to see if the door opens yet. It does, and soon after a familiar face shows up. He recognizes her immediately. ‘Astrid…she’s here!’ he sighs in relief.

Chapter 8

He’s completely relaxed, lying comfortably on his bed. He’s wearing a large white shirt under a pair of dark blue sweatpants that hang loosely on his hips. He looks comfortable despite having no clue where he is right now, considering all of the events that happened earlier today. He thinks that everything has settled into place – he’s safe, he is loved, his parents are gone, and he is going to get the chance to live out his dream. There are no bad memories associated with this house that he will remember.

As he stares at the ceiling, he wonders if he should talk with the woman. Should he open up to her? Should he even bother? He doubts that she’s going to react favorably, but he’s curious to find out. He figures that she might be the one person other than his parents, his brothers, and his mother (who was his birth mom) who might actually care enough about his situation to try to change his mind.

He decides to call her. As his hand reaches towards his cell phone, he realizes that he doesn’t really know what to say. She might be furious with him, and she may not want him around after he revealed her secret. He contemplates hanging up, but decides against doing so, and quickly types a message.

--

He’s still lying down when his phone buzzes beside him, indicating that he received a message. He hesitates momentarily, before reaching over carefully and picking it up off the ground, pulling the blankets further up his body. Hesitantly, he presses the power button on his phone, unlocking the screen in order to view it better. He squints slightly as he reads the text from Astrid, taking a few moments before responding to it with an equally unsure reply.

--

Hey. You alright? Are you ok?

He doesn’t answer right away, glancing over at the door once before replying with a simple, ‘Yeah.’

After a few moments, there’s another response.

Are you sure? That’s not like you.

For a brief second, he considers lying and pretending nothing happened, but decides against it, knowing that she’s smart enough to figure out that he did something wrong if he did that. He pauses for another moment to decide how much he should share about the incident. It wasn’t like he was planning on mentioning it. He was planning on keeping quiet until the very last possible moment, hoping that he could manage to convince her that what she said was wrong. But then he remembered the man standing behind the door. How scared he sounded as he pleaded with the door not to open. And he couldn’t help but feel a small spark of hope in his heart as he imagines him saying that Astrid must have been mistaken about something.

She must be confused, he tries to reason. It doesn’t mean anything, maybe she misunderstood him. She wouldn’t know. Maybe she just thought that she saw someone else.

The image of the man with the brown hair flashes before his eyes as he thinks about the encounter. He tries hard to ignore it. He can’t let himself think about it – he needs to focus on getting back out of here safely. He puts the picture out of his mind.

He clears his throat, typing out a quick message:

Sorry for the late reply. I had to take a short nap. I’m fine now.

The next instant, her response appears on his screen.

That’s good, but I think we need to talk. You know that I love you more than anyone else. And that includes your parents too. I always do. Even though it pains me that I cannot love you as much as I wish. Because I know my place…and I do not fit into your life. Not that I want to. I love you, but…