Tucker stuck his hands out. "Woah, woah, Regi, you good?"

"Tucker I am fine, why do you ask?"

"I mean don't get me wrong, I have no problem with you telling us your life story. It's just, are you fine with that? From how it sounds, there's a lot of pain wrapped up in your past. I just want to make sure yer feeling up to it."

"It is as you say Tucker, I have bottled up my past for years without telling a soul." Mr. Reginald put a fist over his heart. "That is exactly why I want to tell you three. Hopefully telling you three will release all the hurt I've felt all these years. Or at least ease the pain a little."

"Ok...that's cool and all, but like, why us?"

Mr. Reginald straightened his back. "Tucker, I have watched you three since you were little and I've witnessed you grow up. I consider you guys like family. And family shouldn't hide secrets from each other. No matter how painful it may be to tell. That's what my parents taught me anyway."

For once, Tucker stayed silent. Not that I necessarily blame him. What exactly do you say to that?

"If you would rather not have me tell it, I understand. I don't want to ruin our good time with a sad tale."

"No," I said. "I believe Tucker was just concerned about whether you wanted to tell it and how painful it may be for you, rather than not wanting to hear it."

"I see," Mr. Reginald said.

Mr. Reginald looked at Mary and she nodded.

"In that case, let us start before we grow too weary." Mr. Reginald gazed into the fire as if it was assisting him recall his old memories.

"As I mentioned earlier, this wasn't always an open area filled with small critters. It used to house a small village that I called my home. Although I don't think we ever had a name for our small community."

"In truth we lived very similarly to how the Amazons lived. We hunted, cut wood, and enjoyed each other's company. The kids played and the adults engaged in contest of strength, speed, and weapon mastery. It was an enjoyable time."

Mr. Reginald cleared his throat.

"I was born an only child. My mother was a housewife while my father was a Lumberjack, a handyman, and a builder. I was told when I was born I had big arms just like my father, and so it was only natural for me to follow in his steps."

"Anyway, we weren't an especially special family. We were like everyone else. My childhood wasn't far off from you kids to be frank, although we didn't have a school. I ran with other kids and played. I was taught the basics of living in the forest and how to hunt and create traps. I was told what plants were good and which to stay away from. That encompassed the first ten or so years of my life."

"Was your tenth birthday important or somethin'?" Tucker asked.

"Yes, it very much so was. It was a tradition in the village than on a child's tenth birthday, you teach them your craft, whatever it may be. This was to ensure that even if they decide to leave the village and go to the outside world, they have skills in at least a few areas that allow them to make a living."

"Ayy that's legit."

"I'm my case, I had to learn how to be a lumberjack, which wasn't too unenjoyable. If anything, I believe I just liked that it allowed me to spend more time with my father, who was usually gone half of the day."

I looked at Tucker and I'm pretty sure we were both thinking of the same thing. Only half?

"For the next five years, I learned his practice thoroughly to where we were starting to do separate jobs to increase our work ethic. That is until, my father ran into a bear in the woods."

I watched as Mr. Reginald's face dropped down.

"The beast was smart enough to avoid the bear traps we laid out and trampled on him as he was cutting wood deeper in the forest. It just happened that this was the one day he forgot to take his shotgun with him."

"I'm sorry to hear that Mr. Reginald," I said

"Rest assured, Arthur. Miraculously, he didn't die. Some of our neighbors happen to be near him and scared the bear away with shotgun barrels."

Reginald took a deep breath.

"Unfortunately, his legs were unfixable. Which meant he could no longer work. But I didn't care; I was happy he was still alive."

"However, that meant I had to take up the mantle early and preforms all his jobs. And so I did; I woke up even earlier and got home later than he used to, as I felt my work ethic wasn't on par with his."

Mr. Reginald paused.

"A few years had passed and I was approaching my seventeenth birthday." He put his face to his chin. I guess that was his thinking face. "It was maybe a few years before when it happened."

"When what happened?" Tucker asked.

Mr. Reginald's face got darker as he looked up at us."...When the village was raided and burned down to the ground.

"What!? By who?" Tucker said.

"That I never found out," Mr. Reginald admitted.

He made a fist. "But when I find out who it was!"

Surprisingly, Mary who was near Mr. Reginald, lightly patted him in the back, although her face remained the same.

Mr. Reginald took a deep breath. "I'm alright, thank you Mary." Mary stopped comforting him as he returned to original calm demeanor, although a little more worn out.

"Now where was I at?"

"...The burning of your home?" I said, hesitantly.

"Right. I believe that day my father has told me to rest and take a day off from work the night before. Not that I know the reason. All I know is, if he hadn't told me that, I would probably be dead right now."

None of us said anything.

"My mother, bless her heart, was preparing breakfast as usual while my father and I slept in. That is until we were woken up to the sounds of panicking. But it didn't come from our house. And there was also the lingering smell of smoke. Worried, I ran outside with my father's shotgun to see our neighbor's houses ablaze. Screams came from every direction but I couldn't see a single person."

"And terrified of what was happening, I ran back inside and shut the door. I told my parents of what happened but surprisingly they didn't panic. My father looked at me with a stern expression and told me to run as far as I can. Run away and don't return anytime soon."

"I told him there was no way for me to escape unseen but my father already had a counter for my concerns. He asked my mother to lift up a piece of the floorboard and she did, to reveal a secret exit below the house. Luckily, our house was right by the trees which made the distance between us and the woods rather short."

"I wanted to plead with him but knew wasting time was the worst thing I could've done. So instead, I hugged and kissed my mother and my father and climbed down under the house. I told my mother to come but she refused to leave my father and he obviously couldn't come with us. Sadly, we didn't have a lot of time to argue when I heard the window of our house break open. I heard my dad yelling and my mother screaming at me to get out of here. Then she covered up the hole in the floor."

"I'm guessing they didn't make it..." I said.

Mr. Reginald put his head down. "If they did, I surely never found them again."

"However," he said raising his head, "that is not where the story ends. Because before I could enter the forest an arrow was shot at me. It was by pure luck that they missed, or I would've certainly been killed. All I remember is running. I don't know where I was running to or for how long. I just knew I was too afraid to stop. Strangely I don't think I was ever tailed nor did I see anyone else, friend or foe. I just kept running until I reached a grandiose backyard. I still remember my car the first time I laid eyes upon it. The grass was soft and smelled freshly cut. In front of it lay a large house that I previously wouldn't have dreamt of being near.

"The mansion."

"Yes. I believe I passed out nearly instantly afterward. I woke up in a soft bed with a maid tending to my minor scratches and bruises, which I obtained from recklessly running through the woods. Not too long after, I met Gideon, you boys's father and he asked what happened to me. Upon hearing my tale, he told me to stay here until my wounds were healed. I was so taken aback by his generosity that I begged him to be a butler."

"I'm guessing he said yes, right?" Tucker asked.

"No, he argued against it. He said it was unnecessary and that he could easily arrange a place to live and an easier job for me. Unfortunately for him, I was born quite bull-headed and wouldn't take no for an answer. At a certain point, I think he just got sick of me." Mr. Reginald laughed.

"Mr. Reginald acting hard-headed? I'd pay to see that," Tucker joked.

"Stick around me and you'll see it from time to time."

"Did you ever come back to see if anyone was left?" I interjected.

"No sir Arthur, I didn't, as much as I wanted to. I headed my parents words and stayed away for a long while. This is the first time I've been back in fifteen years."

"And you still remember how to get here from our house? That's crazy!" Tucker said.

"To be honest, I didn't think I would. But as we were walking, my body remembered where to go."

"Umm, Mr. Reginald?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"Do you feel any better after telling your story?"

"It's quite a mix of emotions. The thought of someone burning down my hometown enrages me, while the thought of arriving and working at the mansion feel me with nostalgia. Then of course, there are the good memories I shared with my mother and father. Those will never be forgotten."

I smiled upon looking at Mr. Reginald. He had such a nice smile on his face as he talked about the times with his mother and his father. Despite being considerably older than me, I couldn't help but see him as a little kid the way he was grinning.

Mr. Reginald clapped his hands. "Well, we should probably head to sleep. We need to continue walking tomorrow."

Tucker yawned. "Way ahead of you."

However, I think Mary beat him in that regard, as she was already in her tent.

"What, when did she leave!?"

"Maybe she's just that fast," I joked.

"Pfft, doubt it. There has to be a trick to her disappearing act."

"Goodnight boys," said Mr. Reginald, who was heading into his tent. "Don't stay up too late."

"We won't," we both said.

Tucker got up and walked towards his tent. "Cya tomorrow Arthur."

I raised my hand up. "Cya."

I looked around me. Without the fire to light the area around us, it was pretty eerie. I decided that maybe I should follow suit and get in my tent.

Inside the tent, it was a lot more spacious than I would've thought. Obviously it didn't compare to my room, but I had enough space to lay around and a lamplight so I could read if I wanted to. I never got the appeal of camping before, but this was pretty cool. Maybe if I don't die in the next few days I'll consider camping in the forest more often.

I was going to read my book, considering I did bring it along, but Mr. Reginald's story was lingering in my mind. It was definitely sad, but I was focused on how whoever attacked the village didn't chase after him. Especially if it was more than one person, it wouldn't be that hard to catch an unarmed teenager.

While I was thinking about this, It didn't take long for the weariness to hit. I'm pretty sure I didn't even get a chance to pull the blankets over me before before I was out.

I woke up sometime later, dazed and confused, but it didn't feel real. I felt completely drained, more so than I ever have before. I was definitely too tired to move. Was I dreaming? Or was I just this exhausted?

I looked around and spotted Essentia lying outside of her sash, right next to me, right where I left it.

It was dark in the tent, which was weird because I'm pretty sure I left the lamp on.

Suddenly, Essentia lit up and started vibrating like crazy.

"Shh," a voice said. "Be quiet Ória, can't you see he's sleeping?"

In front of me appeared a woman, wearing a beautiful black dress that went down to her feet. At least, I assumed it was a woman since I didn't have the energy to look up. I laid there in a half-dazed state while the person crouched down and put their soft fingers through my messy hair like Sophia had done before.

"Such a good child." she said. Her voice exuded power. I could tell just by her voice that she was someone who was always in control. Yet somehow her voice was warm and comforting. "It's okay Arthur, go back to sleep." I felt my eyes get heavier.

By now, Essentia was still and quiet, like a normal blade should be.

The woman stood back up and turned her feet towards the exit. She started walking out when a loud howling was made. Hearing this, she stopped.

Essentia lit up again, but it not as bright as before.

"It's okay Myala, I'll get this one. He has been praying rather consistently after all."

Then, from what I could hear, she exited the tent. Not long after, everything went dark.