PAST
I crouched in the hiding hole when I heard the thundering voices of men. My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears.
I wrapped my arms around myself as I looked up, focusing on the jagged slits of the planks. Through the slits, the sky was a hazy orange. It would be dark soon, and the thought of that terrified me because around the cabin at night, it was pitch black, and there were stories about things that only came out at night.
As wisps of light gave leeway, I decided to inspect the hole. There were no spiders or nests, fortunately, only dirt, twigs, and black worms. One of the worms tried inching away, but I picked it up and sat on my bottom. I recall my feet being bare and the cool soil wedging between my toes.
“Mum will be back,” I whispered to the worm. I held it close, studying the ridges and lumps on its body.
Then there was a familiar, high-pitched scream. Gasping, I looked up as I heard my mum shout, “No!”
Footsteps followed, swift and chaotic, and I stood promptly as the steps grew nearer. With haste, the plank was removed, and I saw my mother again. She threw her hand at me and when I took it, she yanked me out of the hiding hole.
“Come, son! Now! They know where I’ve hidden you! We must go!” There was panic in her voice and though I had no idea what was going on, I held her hand tighter. We ran away, but that’s when heard the pounding of horse hooves behind us.
“Don’t look back, Caspian! Just run!” Mum shouted, but I was only a child. I couldn’t help himself. As my feet moved and Mum led the way, I peered over my shoulder again and there were three men riding horses and chasing after us. Two of the men had torches gripped in their large hands and glistening black helmets on their heads, the letter B carved into the sides of them. Back then, to my young mind, they were intimidating, but not as much as the man in the middle, who rode his horse without a helmet and had dark eyes full of fury. A bushy, thick beard swarmed the lower half of his face, and he roared Mum’s name repeatedly, demanding her to stop. She didn’t.
Instead, she kept running, gunning it through the forest with my hand in hers. Panic set in when I realized this was a chase. These men were trying to get us, possibly even kill us. I whimpered and put my attention ahead again, running as quickly as I could alongside her.
The hooves of the horses grew closer. It didn’t take long for one of the men to circle us and bring us to screeching halt. The fire of his torch blazed in our faces, the heat of the fire lightly singeing my forehead, as the man shouted, “Give us the boy!”
Mum collected me into her arms with a defensive snarl. Shooting a hand in the air, she aimed it at the man and an invisible force knocked him off his horse and sent him crashing into a tree.
I gasped as Mum dropped her hand. I was in complete shock. I’d never seen her do that before. Ever. But I had no time to ask her what’d happened or how it was possible because she tossed me onto the back of the man’s horse before I could fully let it sink in.
“Azira!” the bearded man behind us bellowed, but Mum climbed onto the horse, gripped the reins, and rode off. I was still stunned by what my mother had done. She used to tell me only Mythics and the gilded had powers, yet she’d just killed a man with powers of her own. How was that possible?
The body of the horse was sturdy, and it galloped loudly as Mum shouted for it to go faster. I had the urge to lay my head on the horse, feel it’s warmth on my cheek.
“We must reach Vanora,” Mum breathed, then shouted at the horse again to pick up speed.
I looked back as the men trailed farther behind, and for a moment, I could taste the safety and the freedom, the feeling wrapping around me like a warm cocoon. We’d reach Vanora as Mum planned and we’d be safe from these random men. Mum would be happy, and all would be well.
But just as quickly as the bliss swam through me, our horse let out a bloodcurdling screech and buckled forward. Its heavy body crashed into the ground, sending us flying across the forest. In flight, Mum sucked in a breath and threw out a hand in my direction. Suddenly, I was wrapped in a bubble of blazing gold light. The bubble felt hot, but not enough to burn. I landed softly on the ground, cushioned by the bubble but Mum…her fall was much worse. Her delicate body slammed into a tree, and I was positive I heard the crunch of bone. The bubble surrounding me faded as his Mum rolled over on the ground with a pained groan.
“Mum!”
Not too far away from her was the horse we’d been riding. Its rear legs were gone and bleeding profusely. They’d been chopped off by something sharp and silver—something that was clearly thrown at it. The weapon, shaped like an oversized axe but without a handle, lay next to the bleeding horse and was cloaked in crimson. My heart wrenched for the horse as it whinnied in agony. It wasn’t the horse’s fault. How could they hurt a defenseless horse? How could they? I snapped out of my thoughts as Mum moaned and rolled onto her back.
“Mum!” I screamed, scrambling toward her. I stumbled over sticks and logs, but before I could make it to her, a large hand grabbed my upper arm and snatched me backwards.
“Get off of me!” I shouted. I thrashed about as the man wrangled me in his arms. “Mummy! MUMMY!”
“Shut up, boy!” the man hissed. The other man with a torch clopped around Mum while on the horse. He hopped off, picking her up by the single thick braid in her hair.
Instantly alert, she swung at the man and missed. The man laughed then kicked her in the back, sending her flying flat on her stomach.
“Caspian! I’m here,” she cried, digging her nails into the ground, and attempting a weak crawl in my direction. “Magnus, please!” she wailed, voice cracking. “You can’t take him from me! He’s, my boy! He’s all I have!”
“Shut her up,” the man in charge growled. The soldier bent over and grabbed her by the braid to yank her to her knees. She let out a scream as he curled it around his fist and yanked it backward. Blood was dripping from her mouth, and some was on her hand, where she clutched her rib. With his other hand, the man dug into the pocket of his trousers until it was coated in a white powder. He cupped her mouth with the powdered hand, and Mum moaned, trying to shove it away but failing.
“Mummy!” I cried, stretching my arms for her. I’d watched in horror as they hurt her, so young and weak and unable to do anything to help. Completely useless. That’s what I was. A useless little boy.
When her body sagged and her eyes closed, I screamed, “LET HER GO!” but it made no difference. The man in charge only held me tighter and squeezed my upper arm so hard, I was certain it would leave a bruise.
“Take her to the dungeons,” the man in charge demanded, reeling me back as I sobbed for her. I was crying so hard my stomach hurt. “I’ll teach her a thing or two about running away from me.”
