A little girl and a little boy sat on a log, swinging their legs in the moonlight. The girl was chattering rather too gayly for the depressing subject she was vocalizing.

“What do you do when you miss someone?” she asked the little boy.

She continued without the answer, as she was used to it already... “I'd just try to forget them until they come back. Then you won't miss them a lot, but you will be so happy when they come back!”

The little boy smiled at the ground and swung his legs, knocking against the slightly hollow wood.

Suddenly, the scene changed and the little girl had disappeared and the little boy had grown considerably. He sat, staring at the reflection of the moon in the lake.

And there was a voice crying,“Beware, little one! Beware! Hope... faith... trust... they are good virtues, but beware! One is never infallible. Trust broken, hope diminished, disbelief... they follow after. Beware, little one!”

“Kaylie would? She's your child. She would?” Afton asked, slowly.

Lycoris appeared, her eyes a lighter shade of red, her white silk changed to muslin. “Even I know not what thoughts my children entertain,” she said, shaking her head, “But she is a child of nature. Instincts control her. She... she is drawn toward her own kind.”

“But... why do I love her so? That every time I see her, my heart goes crazy. That whenever I don't, my heart throbs? Why is it? That I can barely hold back from embracing her?”

The immortal shook her head. “'Tis fate... 'tis fate,” she sighed, “Alas! The terrible fate!”

“Why? Why does it make me so happy, yet so anxious? Argh... I can't keep from falling for her. I love her. I love her so much!”

“Fate is inevitable.... and in a way, love is too. Love plays with one, love terrorizes one, love hurts one, love may give one a sort of bliss.... but in the end, love kills one. Therefore, love is dangerous. Little one, I wish for you to leave it out of life. But... it is true. Love is predetermined by fate, the player of the world.”

And Lycoris, the immortal, went to sighing despondently as if the combined sorrows of the world lay upon her.

It must have taken Afton's too, for he was absorbed in happy thoughts and a smile lit up his face, which was very infrequent, considering it was Afton.

The immortal finally put an end to her brooding and with a short smile, wished him luck....

Yet, even as she disappeared, there was regret written on her face, a miserable exhale upon her lips, for as an immortal, it was a given that Fate had announced its intentions in her presence.... It wouldn't end well...

****

“What...?” Afton faltered, his heart refusing to accept the truth. But his mind and reason proved all attempts at refuting the statement unsuccessful.

“I'm sorry, Afton, I... I didn't think what I'd done would make you like me that way. I thought you were just playing. And...”

Kaylie leaned further into the tree upon whose roots she stood. She faced Afton straight.

“Stop...” Afton whispered, putting his hand on the tree to support himself. He looked down as an internal pain sprouted from his left chest.

“ ...and I thought you were my little brother. But now, I think you've changed too much.”

“Kaylie... please...” he said, desperation in his eyes as he looked up into hers.

“You don't need me to protect you anymore... But Afton, we'll just be friends! We can be best friends or something... but not that way,” Kaylie continued, smiling and putting a hand upon his shoulder.

“Gah!” he cried as the pain intensified. “Don't... Kaylie.”

She removed her hand and stepped away from before him. “I'll... I'll see you back at the camp.”

The footsteps faded and his heart felt as if it dragged itself after her. Oh, the pain! But she was so far away... each step felt another mile further. The poor little heart tore against the leaves, the sand scratched against it and ripped the flesh even more... yet, it seemed to only try harder... it only hurt more.

You warned me! I... I'm such a fool! I didn't think it would come so soon! It... Gah! It hurts! Why did I let love blossom?! Gah!... I knew it would come... I'm such a fool!

He crumbled to the ground, his hand ground against the tree trunk, resulting in a mess of shredded skin, blood, splinters, and bits of bark at his wrist. Even then, he felt no pain... it was nothing compared with the internal wreck.

Afton backed up against the tree, put his head back, and let out a groan. It was a terrible itch that couldn't be relieved.

He would've cried... if he wasn't Afton. But, we all know, this is Afton, the heartless boy who killed without a second thought. But... where did he go when he was most needed! Where did that emotionless mute go? Alas! He had been gone too long. The result was a heartbreak. Why!? Why did he ever let his guard down in the first place?! …to be broken in the course of a week...

Afton calmed himself down. No... never again. No one would ever see the smile upon his lips again. No one would ever...

And that was when he remembered...

Alistair... my Alistair! Surely you are safe!

And Afton stood up with a new resolution.

He had left his horse hidden near the old cabin and thence the heart-broken pariah wandered...

****

Two hours had come and gone, the sun was fast setting. Yet, Afton hadn't appeared. Kaylie began to feel guilty, thinking she'd been too hard on him. She soon brushed it aside, concluding that in the end, she'd have to be direct either way.

Kaylie finally ventured toward the tree she'd left him.

It was unoccupied, cold...

A chill unsesttled her, and she stepped closer to examine the blood stain at the bottom of the trunk.

That was when a white sheet of paper caught her eye...

Now you're happy, you've found what you've been looking for. I won't be your life any more. I'm not worth it. So, Kaylie, forget me. Kaylie, forget everything we did together. I was only a passing shadow in your life. Kaylie, live well. I'll drop out of your life now, but don't worry. I'll be back to say goodbye later on.

Do not worry, I'm fine. Do not miss me, I'll return. Once again, you should forget me. It'll be easier that way, for you and for me. I've reflected upon my actions and am currently deeply regretting them.

I won't be back very soon, don't wait for me.

Kaylie stared in shock at the little note. She crushed it into her fist and muttered something under her breath.

She walked away, shaking her head, whether in shame or anger, we do not know... but there is something we do...

As she turned, a piece of metal reflected the sun, but, unfortunately, did not catch her eye. It was a little tear-dropped shape piece of metal...

Alas! If only she'd known how he felt as he wrote that little note.... what he meant when he told her to forget.... or even what he deeply regretted.

For, in truth, Afton wasn't ok... he wished she'd never forget him even if he returned after three thousand... no... three million or even billions of years... Even then, when he was running from her, he loved her. Even then... he wished he could've been the one.

****

Meanwhile, Afton had arrived at the place of his former residence. With the large, two-storey house before him, memories came flooding back.

Alistair... and Rain. He tried to sweep the latter from his immediate thoughts and took a deep breath. His hand fell to his chest... but it was empty.

Afton quickly put down his hand to guard himself from thinking any further about that little locket.

He swallowed, patted down his clothes and tried to make himself look presentable. He cleared his throat, and with a heart in his stomach, put his hand on the handle.

Yet... he hesitated. Why? He didn't know. Something told him not to go further... but... Alistair was there! ...or was he?

Another deep breath and Afton stepped across the threshold.

Everything seemed normal. The smell of wood, the beds, the chairs, the children...

They scrambled off their beds, from the floor, from whatever they'd been doing... to stand at attention, saluting Afton.

They were unfamiliar faces with the same fear in their eyes.

Their silence unnerved Afton, but he kept an indifferent face and searched each face for the child he adored as an angel.

One child in particular, slightly taller than when Afton'd last seen him, caught his eye.

Afton stopped before the pale-faced kid and softened his look, “Alistair?” he asked, turning to the little boy.

“No, sir! Lancer Peose at your service!” he cried, standing straighter.

“Does... does anyone here know Afton?” he asked, exasperated, searching every terror-filled pale faces. There was no answer besides the slight cowering of a little one.

“Sir, you've taken every one who knew of him,” a taller boy ventured, “They... they're all gone!”

“Even Alistair?”

“Alistair?” a boy asked, stepping forward, “He disappeared the day after I came. He was sitting right behind the door as a sentry would've. He kept a bag right beside him....”

At that, Afton ran toward the closet that formerly accommodated what little belongings Alistair had.

It was full with unfamiliar articles... Afton went over to his own drawer, to find it was thoroughly wrecked, all letters or notices he'd kept were gone, the few clothes left in them were dreadfully crumpled. The weapons, too, had disappeared. Without a word, he set to work before all the wide-eyed on-lookers. All the remaining clothes went into his bag, extra sheets of paper and pens...

Finally, he pulled out the whole compartment and felt around in the dusty area. He must have felt something, for he winced (although it was almost unnoticeable) and with a little fumbling blindly, pulled out a sword, covered with dirt, followed soon after by a sheath, equally covered with dust.

Afton sheathed it, took up his bags, and without another word, disappeared out the door... never to return to that dreadful place.

****

Later on, if one was walking the roads to the little north-eastern suburbs of Isumton, one would've beheld a beautiful, almost magnificent, rider in fully covered in dark blue on his pitch-black mare as he sped by, his black muslin mask, fastened at the back of his head, flapping against his shoulder, a sheathed sword dangling at his side....

It was Afton, yes... only, he called himself Colvile Hunter, and claimed to be on his way to find a job.

I'm sorry Kaylie... after you brought me back to reality, I understood... it was never meant to be... me and anyone else. My little Alistair, my Rain... even you. I've been living too long in bliss. It was going to come anyway. In the end, all good things are sorrows in disguises. Forget me... so I can forget you. Or at least try to...

Deep down, he knew. He knew he'd never be able to forget any one of them... not the guilt of watching his little Rain die before his very eyes when he could've saved him, nor the guilt of leaving his little Alistair or even Kaylie... behind.

Sometimes I wish I never met anyone. Then I wouldn't get the pain I have now. Then I wouldn't have felt the betrayal. I wouldn't have felt this way when you said no. I wouldn't wait every day just for the little talk that was most probably half-hearted on your side. I... I want to disappear. I want to remove myself from everyone... but when I see you, I can't help but do everything against reason. That's why... I left.

****

The king smashed his fist against the arm of the wooden chair he occupied, “You lost him?” he growled, glaring with disgust at the pitiful mess of blood and mud on the floor at his feet.

“B.b.b.bbb... but Master! They were so skilled and knew how to use sorcery to their advantage!”

“Your men couldn't even track down a child one week ago! You can't even kill that traitor?” The king roared, his face turning a bright red with passion.

“Master! They crushed what men we had and sent the reinforcements running, they even killed Jasker!”

“Then send the world against him!”

“Sir! He most likely would be able to escape everything if not all! The boy is a survivor.”

“You know him?” the king asked, standing up, “What about his past?”

“Of that ...I'm unsure,” the soldier replied, hesitantly.

This only proved to anger the king all the more and in his anger, he lost all reason and the on-going war occupied not even an inch of his immediate thoughts.

“A scribe! Call a scribe!”

****

“So you're looking for a job?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well, then, your name, age, and birth date, please, I'm assuming you can write.”

“Colvile Hunter, seventeen this year, Ianuarius 13, I can write well enough.”

“You'll start tomorrow, the shop's closed now,” the man muttered, handing Afton a tag.

Afton took it, bowed respectfully, and retired from the mail shop...

****

“You want a job?” a man huffed, looking up from his work.

“Yes, sir,” came the answer.

“Your name, age, and you can start tomorrow.”

“Colvile Hunter, seventeen. I'll start today, you seem in want of help,” Afton said, quietly.

“Thanks, kiddo, but I'll do fine,” the man grunted.

Afton left the shop...

****

“Colvile Hunter, age, seventeen, I look forward to working with you.”

****

“Colvile Hunter, seventeen, I'll work hard.”

****

“Could I rent a room?”

The innkeeper looked him up and down, “Do you have money?”

“No,” Afton admitted, “If... if there's anything I could do to help in exchange for lodging?”

The innkeeper looked at him again, “What about that fine horse, you got there?”

Why are you holding on? Let the horse go... it's a reminder... of her. Her! Argh! Forget her! She's dead! Forget!

“Sure, for a month.”

“The horse is dead-tired, just two weeks.”

“Three?” he haggled.

The man shrugged, “Two and a half, no more.”

Afton nodded and took one last look at te black mare...

I can do this... I can forget everything... I can start off again as a new person, Colvile Hunter. I... I'll survive.

He unconsciously put his hand to feel for the locket. But he scolded himself and put his hand back down.

She doesn't need you... neither do you. Let go...