Caspian was being followed. He'd be concerned if he didn't know who it was. Although he tried to avoid land until he depleted his body and it demanded he touch earth, he acted as the muscle often on Varno Cove. On multiple occasions, he had walked beside the very footsteps he felt reverberating through the ground.

It would be easy to call Linden out, but Caspian continued in silence.

The thing about the people on watch was that they searched for threats approaching the ship, not their own people leaving, and without the opening of the hatch to alert them, they had no reason to even look at the deck. Unfortunately for Rork, Caspian had decided to risk Lorica's wrath and work free a few of the planks separating his room and the deck. He still didn't know where Linden had hidden on the top deck to see Caspian's retreat into the night, but he'd felt his friend's pursuit mere moments after entering the Oakhill Forest.

If Caspian was honest with himself, he had yet to bring his awareness to attention because part of him was happy. Now, he wasn't alone. And maybe a petulant, childish piece of him treasured his friend's concern. What he'd said to them earlier that day had been out of line, driven by his frustration at being distanced from the Wolfbane mission, but it had come from an honest place.

He missed his friends. But he couldn't bear to handle their scolding, disappointed looks as he continued to ignore their new project.

A new project who kept stumbling upon him at the worst possible moments, when the scars upon his heart rose so close to the surface that the mere wind peeled back the scabs.

Her face surfaced. A divot between her brows, a frown upon her lips, and such deep concern worn like a second skin. It wasn't as if pity was anything new to him. He'd received it often enough earlier on in his pirate life that he hated it now. But from her, it confused him. Usually, all it took was a few days of Caspian's flippant attitude and smiling jabs for the drifters to turn away from him. And at first, he thought that would be the case here.

But then something changed, and those blue eyes no longer blocked him with annoyance, but they reached out, seeking, as if he were a puzzle. As if the newest spark of determination in her wasn't already confusing enough.

A few drops of rain pattered on his hood. The storm would be upon them soon. He hoped Linden hadn't forgotten his cloak.

Caspian reached the clearing to find Oakhill Orphanage dark and silent. All of the children were asleep, then. If Halawa and Muli were awake, they were deeper in the building, far enough away they wouldn't notice him. He waited at the tree line and fiddled with the pouch attached to his belt, taking in the orphanage in its slumbering state.

"Will you be waiting here, Linden?"

Three seconds passed before a sigh sounded behind Caspian. "How long have you known?" Each word grew louder as Linden closed the distance between them.

"Take a guess."

"Did we at least make it halfway here?" When all he received in answer was a smirk, Linden sighed yet again. "I'd feel worse about myself if I didn't know you cheated."

Caspian hummed, content and smug.

"What are you doing here?" Linden asked after a full minute lapsed. "I know you begged us to let you go through with his masochistic rule break of yours, but must you do it again?"

The plea in Linden's voice clawed at those exposed scars. Caspian closed his eyes and let it happen. The building whose presence they stood in reminded him of why he deserved this pain.

He patted the satchel at his waist. The numias within jangled against one another.

"Caspian, that isn't..."

"No," Caspian said. He didn't feel insulted by Linden's insinuation. After all, he'd been acting rash enough lately that he understood why Linden would think he'd sink low enough to nab coins from the crew's stash. "These are my own. I've amassed quite the savings. It helps when I don't go into towns enough for items to catch my eye." The last time he remembered buying anything for himself was two sols ago when he found the dagger earrings that reminded him of the pair Saron wore.

Saron. There it was, claws digging bone-deep into the scars, allowing despair and hatred to seep out like blood.

"They have more children now than they did before. How many do you think are here because of me?" he asked.

"Because of Wolfbane," Linden corrected.

Caspian ignored him. "I owe them all the help I can, and this is mine to give. We can return to the ship after I drop it off."

"Alright. Well, let's hurry then, before the rain really gets going."

Despite Linden's words, he didn't rush Caspian. They stood there, Linden watching Caspian while he drank in the orphanage. Last time he'd seen it, the building had been in ruins, with the two upper floors collapsed down into the rest. He'd thought then it would be his last time ever seeing the place. He was grateful that he got to say one last goodbye after seeing it rebuilt.

Finally, he crossed the clearing. The closer he drew, the harsher the memories assaulted him. A different version of the playground, one with the orphans' paint handprints all over it, including Caspian's, because although he wasn't parentless, he was one of them. His small form sprinting across the field, followed by the shouts and squeals of other young children determined to catch him. Then he saw himself sprawled out where a tree used to be, watching a familiar girl scrawl across paper, sometimes with art, but usually with powerful poems that he would claim were atrocious.

Every memory hardened in his chest until it was what beat within him instead of his heart.

He climbed the porch steps and stared at the door. Too often he'd seen a less-weathered Halawa at this door, sighing when he and the others arrived and then tutting about her cousin's wanderer spirit. He remembered learning to call her Auntie Halawa despite being his mother's cousin rather than sister.

Auntie Halawa, who held him close when he cried over a scraped knee and nursed him to health when he caught the red-ring fever.

Then there was Uncle Muli, her companion, who played survivalist in the surrounding trees with him and ensured Caspian always made up with the others when their brattier selves got the best of them.

What would they think of Lorica and Garman? Would his new caretakers scare his old ones? Or would they see the two hardened people and believe they were the only ones who could handle as horrible a human as Caspian?

Throat tight, he set the sack of numias in front of the door and left. Halawa always rose with the sun. She'd see it before anyone else.

Caspian had taken five steps away from the house when the door scraped open. The need to bolt hit him so strong that it paralyzed him.

The wooden porch creaked under soft steps. They padded down the porch stairs and stopped. Whoever it was stood only a few feet behind him.

"I don't know why you're doing this, but it was nice to see you again," the orphanage matron said. "I recognized you the moment you came close. You've gotten so big, my little gale."

The nickname wrenched out another memory. Caspian, standing before a furious Halawa as she scolded him for playing in her office. Half the drawers lay on top of each other outside of the desk and papers covered the floor. She had not found his attempt at pretending to be a pirate amusing. Eventually, when he squeaked out a teary apology, she melted into him, whispering how she'd find another game for her little gale to play. The endearment stuck.

His throat felt as choked in that moment as it had that day.

Something clunked against wood, and then the footsteps were approaching again. A gentle hand rested on the middle of his back. He sucked in a deep breath.

"You're always welcome back, if you so choose. You wouldn't be alone if you did. There are still so many people on this island that love you."

The soft press of a forehead joined the hand. He hoped she couldn't feel his tremors. They stood like that for twenty too-long-not-long-enough seconds, and then she pulled away.

"Thank you for the gift of seeing you one last time. I've left some red pepari soup for you on the steps. Consider it payment for those numias I'm sure you won't let me refuse."

She retreated, and the door squeaked open again. She paused. "Take care, Caspian. May the stars bless your path, and may they one day bring you back to see us."

The door shut. Auntie Halawa was gone, but unlike the last time he'd run away from her, she'd caught him. He'd regretted not having a farewell then, but he realized now he'd done himself a mercy. Was the ripping of his heart worth hearing her voice?

Yes, a too-quiet voice said.

Caspian tilted his head back, exposing his face to the faint drizzle. He didn't think the water trailing down his face was the rain, though.

He returned to Linden a couple of minutes later, a metal bowl tucked beneath his arm. The spicy, mouth-watering aroma wafted from it, and even if Caspian couldn't imagine feeling hungry for another sol, his stomach clenched in its desire for the soup.

"Hey," Linden said. There was a question in that word, or maybe an offer. Whichever it was, Caspian didn't have the energy to answer it.

He trudged onward, unhurried despite the rain coming down harder. A strange camaraderie formed between him and the rumbling thunder, as if the sound reflected the turbulent emotions within him.

Linden kept close beside Caspian. He didn't speak, allowing his presence to be a comfort his words would never be. What could one even say?

Astamare grew closer. No longer caring about hiding, Caspian followed the cobblestone streets back to the docks. He took in the buildings, some familiar, some recreations of what he'd once known, and some completely new. The people would be the same, and he hated the part of him that thought he deserved to see who they'd become.

Despite turning the corner toward the docks first, Caspian didn't notice something was wrong until Linden's hand shot out, stopping him in his tracks. "Caspian, look," Linden said.

Caspian found the lumpy outline, and before his mind could piece together what he saw, lightning flashed, revealing the truth he was too sluggish to accept. A guard's body sprawled out on the street, the puddle of water around him stained crimson.

Caspian's heartbeat was the storm's thunder as he looked further onward. Another two bodies lay side by side, one's limbs horribly angled and their head a little too turned.

Oh, Dreamer, no. Please, no.

The earth responded to his terror. His connection to it curled around him like a caress. If he sunk into its thrall, the pain would go away, and the sheer power would crash down upon all that plagued him. The earth was unyielding, and it would protect him.

Gritting his teeth, Caspian charged forward despite the roots attempting to hold him there. Not here. He wouldn't let that happen again.

But just because one thing wouldn't happen again didn't mean something else hadn't. His horror heightened with every step closer he drew to the ship. It dug its claws into his heart as its vice grip squeezed and squeezed. The wrenching pain was the only thing to make it through a growing numbness.

Not again. Please, Dreamer, not again. He'd give anything to reach the deck and earn the scolding of his life from Lorica and Garman. He needed to see their furious faces.

He pounded his way up the gangplank. The sight that met him was a sword through the chest. Bodies everywhere. Some gave the smallest movements of life while others were as still as a star.

His eyes hunted the deck, searching for the faces of those who kept him together. Unfamiliar people mixed with those he knew, but he couldn't find the ones that truly mattered. Where was Lorica? Garman? Willow and Haylan?

Breaths escaped in rapid gasps. Blood poured from him. It had to. Nothing else would explain how he felt his life draining away. An inhuman scream threatened to rip its way through his throat.

One of the few fully conscious people rose from tending to a wounded. They turned, and their brilliant blue eyes found him. A hysterical laughter bubbled out. Of course. Out of everyone who would see him on the brink of shattering, it would be her.

"Caspian." Cinders choked out his name as she closed the distance between them. Her hand stretched toward him before she snatched it back, but the desperation for someone to put an end to this nightmare shone clearly in her eyes.

If only she knew that she looked to the worst person, because this wasn't just a nightmare for Caspian. No, this was his personal nightmare, escaping the darkest part of his mind and cackling at his defeat.

"It was him," she said. "He found out we were here somehow, and he..." Tears welled in her eyes as she glanced over the ship's destruction. "I'm trying to help them as much as I can, but that's not all. He took them."

Shut up! he mentally pleaded. No more. Make it stop.

"Lorica, Garman, Willow, Haylan, and I think five others, but I'm not—"

Each name was a nail to Caspian's heart, but it was the broken voice behind him that delivered the hammering blow that made the nails pierce the flesh.

"Did you say Willow?" Linden stood frozen, half on the ship and half on the gangplank. His eyes burned as if the fire he created had found a home there. "No... No!" He stormed past, screaming his sister's name as he checked every person on the ship, even if they looked nothing like her.

"That's not all."

Caspian thought he had misheard. He must have. What else could Cinders have to say? When he managed to rip his gaze away from Linden, though, he found her staring at him. She still bore the same devastation and despair as when she'd first approached, but now there was an apology there, as if she didn't want to say this, but she knew she had to.

"He told me to give you a message," Cinders continued. "He said he'd be waiting, and he said..." She stumbled over her words, took a deep breath, and then gulped as if to force her body to accept the air.

Caspian barely held on to his sanity, but her next words were the final blow.

"He said to 'come find me, little rabbit.'"

He didn't remember moving, but suddenly he had her crushed against him, as if he would crumble to dust if he didn't cling to something. The inhuman scream finally erupted as he buried his face in her neck.

That familiar taunting nickname. A reminder that he was just terrified prey, that the wolf's jaws approached, that running only sacrificed something else to feed the beast.

Not again.

It didn't matter. No matter how much he begged and prayed, it had happened, and he'd lost the ones he loved all over again.

*****

Look what happens when you sneak out at night, Caspian! Your family gets attacked by a meanie head. Let this be a lesson, everyone. Don't sneak out! But yeah, Caspian is just taking blow after blow to the heart, and it seems like his past keeps resurfacing U^_^ It's a downside of coming back home, I suppose.

Let me know your thoughts on the chapter down below, and if you enjoyed it, don't forget to vote and comment! I also have a discord open to anyone who wants to join, and we have a section there to discuss the book :D Let me know if you want to join!