Part 1

It had been three years since his parents had died and Henry thought of them often. The memory of him peering into the cart that held his father's body. Josef’s blank dead stare. The blood still caked on his chest and head. His mother's weeping and gut-wrenching wails of loss. Sasha’s warm embrace of comfort in that time of sadness. He would never forget those memories. Forever burned into his mind.

Henry’s father, Josef, was killed in a bandit raid in Vulkira. He was part of the reserve guard and was dispatched to Buxmar, a small farming village, for protection. Shortly after, the raiding party attacked, and many lives were lost but the Xerian soldiers managed to kill nearly every bandit. This was part of the peace accord agreed upon with the Kingdom of Vulkira at the time of the great war. He was given orders to defend the town. The kingdom of Xer had promised Vulkira soldiers for aid but it had cost Josef his life.

Henry’s mother, Lauryn, for obvious reasons didn’t take his death well and couldn’t cope with his absence. The loss of her husband drove his mother into a deep depression and she stayed that way for months until, finally stricken with overwhelming grief and unable to bear the pain, hung herself. It came as such a shock for Henry to lose his father then mother in such a short span of time, that he too fell into a deep depression. To make matters even worse, Henry was the one that found her body hanging from a tree behind their house. That too was seared into his memory for eternity.

It was then that Sasha had found him alone in his home. Henry deeply regretted that she had seen such a thing. He curled up in his bed, cowering, and through the window, Lauryn hanging from a rope. To this day, Henry was ashamed at leaving his mother hanging on that tree and for Sasha to see it too.

She had comforted him and stayed with him for several hours before running into town to fetch Mrs. Kebin. She had brought food and clothing with her and had taken care of him for weeks after. Sasha knew the feeling and great loss of losing one's parents. She knew all too well of the pain and void it brought.

Lord Kyburn himself came to visit him, in part from guilt and in part in worry for the young boy, whereas he was the one who sent his father to Vulkira. Kyburn must have felt responsible for their deaths but oddly, it never crossed Henry’s mind to blame the lord. His father had simply done his duty as a soldier and died with honor.

Professor Gould had also visited him, though, at the time, he barely knew Henry. Henry’s father and mother had been saving up enough money to put him through school and Gould had agreed to put the idea to Kyburn.

After several weeks of depression, Henry gradually began to return to normal. A spark came back to him but his eyes remained lifeless. It was only much later, he gained a semblance of happiness.

Sasha had encouraged Henry to join the school with Professor Gould and begin his studies. The first day of class for Henry was wretched. Sasha had pushed for him to attend the opening semester and Henry complied to her gentle urging. After a week of classes, Henry began to improve his mood and had hope again. His mind could be occupied and be put to good use, which helped him grieve and move on. Losing his parents would always leave a scar but through many years of support and work, Henry had his life back. The deadness in his eyes faded with time.

Sasha and Henry had grown very close over those three years, and Henry could never repay her for her kindness and friendship. His bond with Sasha grew deeper than any would know. They shared a pain, a pain in which drew them together.

Henry quickly had other problems to deal with, however. He was extremely poor and his father’s connections to pay his way through school had died with him. Professor Gould had taken it upon himself to add the boy to his students with lord Kyburn’s permission. Lord Kyburn financed the school fees and allowed Henry to participate even though he was low born. For this, Henry knew he was blessed.

The Professor’s and Kyburn’s favor did not go unnoticed by other people. Many complained but most saw the kind and compassionate young boy for what he was, a good man. He became well-liked by the people, and at such a young age of seventeen.

Henry inspired young and old. He was handsome and known by most. He was going places and people knew it. Some were jealous, some were happy for the orphan boy moving up in the world. He, however, just wanted to read, learn and teach. Gould called him a ‘book worm’, he didn’t fully understand what a worm had to do with anything but Gould always smiled when making the joke so Henry assumed it had a hidden meaning to it.

Henry would never forget his parents but he had moved on with the help of many good people to guide him. Kyburn had, in a way, replaced his father and Gould was like an uncle he never had.

On occasion, Kyburn would often sit him down for lunch or dinner and chat with him about everyday life. Henry didn’t understand why the lord had taken such an interest in him but was grateful nevertheless. Kyburn gave him advice on many things and supported Henry when he needed it.

He was seventeen and ready to take on the world.

Part 2

While sitting in the corner, Henry did his best to ignore the snickering boys laughing at him. Those three hated and resented him for his talents. If not for the guards, professor Gould and Kyburn himself, they would most assuredly bully him as often as possible. Henry thanked Hashem for his many friends and blessings. Hashem had given him his talents and he was going to use them.

Henry jerked out of his thoughts when he noticed the door opening. An old man poked his head in and swept the room with his gaze, stopping on him. It was the same old man that had recommended the book to him. He pushed his way in then addressed Gould.

“Forgive my interruption professor, but I need to steal one of your students from you.” the old man said in a gruff voice.

“Gus, this is a surprise. May I ask what for?” Gould asked. “I’m in the middle of a class.”

“You may,” Gus responded. “But, I can’t tell you yet. We shall speak in private later and I’ll fill you in. This is urgent. For now, I need Henry to come with me.”

“Henry?” Gould frowned.

Henry was lost in thought. “Gus? That name was also familiar. Where had he heard it from?” he frantically searched his memory.

“Henry.”

He had just heard the name Gus something. “Gus, Gus, Gus. Hmmm,” he thought aloud.

“Henry!” Gould raised his voice. The students burst out in laughter at Henry’s lack of awareness and mumbling.

He looked up at the staring eyes and scolded himself again for not paying attention. Then he stood up. “Yes, professor?”

The room erupted into more laughter and snickers. Gould made an audible sigh and pointed at the old man. “Gus would like your ear for a moment.”

Henry turned bright red and shifted his body to slip in between two tables. “Why do you always have to daydream at the perfect times?” he thought as he headed for the door. “My apologies Mr. Gus.” his head hanging down with shyness.

“Now, everyone quiet down.” Professor Gould’s voice could be heard shushing the class as they walked down the hallway.

Gus led Henry down many passageways, through several hallways and stairs without a word. He got more and more anxious as the silence continued. The castle was a big place and many people often lost their way inside the endless stone. After several minutes of going up and up stairs and passing room after room, Henry began to realize where Gus was taking him. He hoped he was wrong but as he led him up one more spiraling staircase Henry knew where they were going.

“Huh-um,” Henry deliberately coughed. “May I ask, why we are going up to lord Kyburn’s keep?”

Gus turned his head to look at Henry and raised an eyebrow at him. “What makes you say we are?” he asked slyly.

“Well, because Kyburn lives up here. Everybody knows that.” he realized how rude that may sound to this old man. “Maybe he didn’t know that,” Henry thought. “He is really old.”

Henry guessed the old man was in his late eighties or early nineties. His head was slightly humped over and his back arched out. He hobbled along down another hallway, taking his time.

“So.” Gus cleared his throat and started. “What’s a boy like you doing in a school like this? Who are you to have been shown such favor? Kyburn, it seems, has taken a great interest in you in the past years.”

Inwardly, Henry froze at the question, catching him off guard.

Normally low born citizens were never allowed into higher education schools due to their status, but lord Kyburn honored his father by allowing Henry to join the school. From guilt or the goodness of his heart, Kyburn kept the promise he had made. Many student’s parents disagreed and protested but Gould and Kyburn ignored them. Eventually, it was decided he must be separated from the other students, as not to negatively influence them. And so, Henry would always sit in the far corner as a compromise to stay in school.

Kyburn had refused at first, saying it wasn’t right to shun the boy. Especially after Josef, Henry’s father had died for their country. Henry, however, didn’t complain and complied with the recommendation. He knew both Gould and Kyburn stuck their necks out for him so he didn’t want to cause any more trouble for them than he already had.

Henry recognized their generosity and did everything he could to repay their kindness. He would do odd jobs for lord Kyburn and helped Gould with whatever he needed in class. Henry wished to be a scholar and become a teacher himself one day. He loved books and had a sharp mind. Eventually, Henry wanted to be the next professor of the castle after Gould retired.

“Well?” Gus looked at him expectantly. “You going to answer me boy?” he snapped Henry out of his thoughts.

“I-I.” Henry stammered. “Lord Kyburn and the professor have been good to me. I hope to one day repay them for their kindness. I don’t fully understand why they allowed me in but it had to do with my father. He was a soldier you see.”

“Josef.” Gus nodded. “I know. You think Kyburn keeps you here out of guilt?”

“I-I suppose so.” Henry continued to stammer. “I hope not. I don’t blame him for my father’s death.”

“Good.” Gus smiled, looking back at him. “You're a special boy. In time you will come to realize that.”

Before Henry could reply, Gus suddenly stopped at a large wooden door layered in thin pieces of black metal. Gus pulled a bundle of keys out from under his cloak and with shaky hands, sifted through them. The first key opened the door, which meant he knew exactly which one to use or he had incredible luck to get it his first try.

Henry stepped through the door following him in. Looking around the dimly lit room he could see every inch of the wall was filled with bookshelves. Hundreds of books and scrolls lay neatly stacked and organized.

“This room is amazing, sir.” Henry gawked. “I didn’t know this was a library. Why has it been kept secret?”

“I’d imagine not.” Gus huffed. “This is my personal chamber. I do all my work here. That’s why.”

“Fascinating,” replied Henry. “May I?” he pointed at a shelf full of scrolls.

“Later perhaps. Light those candles for me, will you boy?” Gus pointed.

Henry snapped out of his gawking and walked over to where he pointed to start lighting the candles around the room. “I hope you don’t mind me asking sir, but who are you? I have heard your name before. I don’t wish to be rude sir, but I am genuinely curious.”

“Who am I?” Gus’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I’m the old fool who tells stories to people. The one who people dismiss.”

“Like those times we talked?” Henry asked. “I loved your stories about the ancient creatures. The ones that you said can live forever. Were they true or just that? Stories.”

“True. Though some of the facts may have been distorted over time.” Gus admitted. “History seems to do that.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Henry prodded. “Who are you really?”

“Ah yes.” his face turned sour. “In truth boy, I am a Historian,” Gus said plainly.

Henry whipped his head around and stared at him in awe. “You’re a Historian?”