Sumner (Old)

“Please don’t cry.”

Sumner felt small. The walls of the city loomed over him and he could do nothing but gaze at their unrelenting, merciless defence. In his little arms trembled a girl who stained his ragged shirt wet with tears and spit. She shouted for a mother that would not come, and Sumner realised first that no one would try to help them. No one would bother.

They grew up wandering. Surviving on handouts from the charitable, Sumner skipping meals to feed his sister, stroking back her hair and keeping her in his arms for warmth. She slept and he remained alert, until his exhaustion caused him to faint. Not an evening passed in which Sumner did not breathe shaking, tired breaths, tears pouring down his cold cheeks and begging forgiveness from Odine for not taking enough care of her. Sumner could only grow more defensive, frightened of the leering stares, snatching Odine closer to his side to keep her from restless hands.

Sumner and Odine were approaching adulthood by the time Haven came across them. He narrowly avoided a hard punch to the face, Sumner shouting at him to get away from them. He snatched his sister and shoved her back, fully prepared to kill the man.

“Go away!” He shrieked. “Leave us, we’ve nothing for you!”

Haven watched. His silence only proved to unnerve Sumner, who stooped down to pick up a stone, smashing it into Haven’s head with a hefty throw. But Haven did not move, strange tangles of light skimming across his skull to create a barrier between the impact. Odine pulled Sumner’s arm, a silent plea to stop. She stepped forward and swallowed.

“Are you here to kill us?” She asked. Haven looked to the forests, returning a slow gaze to the pair. He shook his head. Odine smiled. “I’m Odine-”

“You can’t trust him!” Sumner interrupted. “Just because we’re not targets to be killed does not mean he won’t harm us! Father didn’t kill us, but-”

“He is not our father, Sumner,” Odine snapped. “That thing is a creature. No father abandons his children.”

Sumner scowled at Haven. Haven glanced up at the setting sun and back to the trees awaiting. He began to walk, and paused, as if waiting for the two to follow. Odine looked to her brother.

“We have no alternative,” Odine whispered. “We either die out here or chance a life with him.”

“I will not have you harmed, Odine,” Sumner scowled. “You’re all I have. My life is empty without you in it.”

“Please,” Odine clasped Sumner’s hand and squeezed it, starting to feel the chill of evening wind. “Please, Sumner. He’s waiting for us, please.”

Sumner prayed the entire journey through the forest. The overgrown city seemed ruinous and nature-swallowed, smothered in green and pollen rich. Cojiro perked, surprised.

“Haven, you’ve brought people with you,” He smiled. “Welcome, you two. You must be hungry.”

“Exhausted, more like,” Dardanos muttered. “Dirt-smothered. Go and bathe, there are springs.”

“Who are you people?” Sumner sneered. “Some sort of disgusting forest goblins.”

“Sumner,” Odine breathed. “Be nice, please. They’re extending courtesy, we can do the same.”

“Right.”

“Do you need to locate the baths?”

Seraphim stood among them, hair tied into a loose bun and robes trailing behind him. Odine smiled.

“Please. My name is Odine, and this is my brother, Sumner. We’re both very grateful to be taken in.”

“Seraphim,” He bowed his head. “There is only one spring, I hope you do not mind sharing.”

“You’re not getting in, are you?” Sumner narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, I am,” Seraphim nodded. “Pl-”

“Odine, wait your turn, then,” Sumner frowned. “Or we let her go first.”

“I have no objections,” Seraphim smiled. “Please, Odine, bathe first.”

“Oh!” She perked, eager to wash the grime off of her. “Thank you both. Sumner, get along.”

She warned, toddling off to the sound of gushing water. Seraphim sat with Sumner.

“...How are you?” Seraphim asked. “You have not come here from a good home.”

“Mind your own damned business,” Sumner scowled. “Don’t talk to me.”

Seraphim complied, saying nothing further until Odine was scurrying out, smothered in a fluffy towel. Seraphim and Sumner bathed in sheer, tense silence. Sumner left quickly, snatching a fur towel and leaving to find Odine.

He could not keep his tension. Odine sat on the wooden bench, legs drawn up into her towel and looking rather similar to a marshmallow, her head just peeking out. She dozed, warm and clean, huffing small breaths and tilting to the side. Sumner scooped her up into his arms, carrying her to the building fire currently tended to by Cojiro, who laughed.

“Couldn’t even keep awake, huh?” He grinned. “Haven’s a bed for you, and one for her. Check the cottage with a small green door.

The cottage was small, but Sumner had never been more grateful to sleep under a roof. Real wooden beds remained untouched by their previous inhabitants, rebuilt and bundled with furs. Sumner laid Odine down and tucked her in, kissing her cheek and bidding her a soft goodnight.

For a month he did not leave her side, rarely leaving the cottage unless to collect food for Odine. He waited one rainy evening by the fire, face gaunt from sleep exhaustion, breathing heavy and patiently observing Cojiro cook, until Dardanos scowled.

“Are you ill?”

“What?” Sumner furrowed his brows, but the shadows of his thin cheeks made him an animated corpse. “No. I’m well.”

“You’re not eating,” Dardanos frowned. “Or sleeping. Why not?”

“Leave me alone, when is dinner done?” Sumner muttered. “I need to get back before I get drenched.”

“A few minutes,” Cojiro offered Sumner a worried glance. Sumner scoffed.

“Well could you hurry?” He frowned, feeling something irritating start to hum in his ear. “I’ve got to be inside before it pours...po...ugh.”

He hit the ground, startling the others.

He woke to an unfamiliar room. Filled with trinkets and books, the flicker of candles swaying the shadows. From outside the growl of thunder roamed the sky, bathing the forest in blackness, drenching it to a dangerous, slippery mess. Sumner sat up and the panic set in.

“W-Where am I?!” He shouted, alerting Dardanos. “Where’s Odine?!”

“In her cottage. Haven is looking after her. You are in my cottage,” Dardanos returned. Sumner bolted for the door, slamming into the wall and staggering backwards. Dardanos sighed. “Don’t make me use illusions. Please sit down.”

“Odine!” Sumner shrieked, relentlessly kicking at the wooden wall. He threw his body into it, screeching, before he slid against it, sitting on the floor and bursting into sobs. “O-Odine-”

“She is safe, I promise you,” Dardanos whispered. “She could not be in better hands. But she would be devastated to learn her brother was not eating or sleeping well. I have saved you some stew, please sit and eat with me.”

Sumner did not have the energy to even hold the spoon, breathing harsh and stunted, tired eyes bleary and vacant. He ran a high fever, body shaking without pause, having to be propped up to sit without falling. Dardanos fed him, warm spoon to lips causing Sumner to instinctively open his mouth, quietly taking in the stew, spoon clinking against his teeth.

He shrieked in the night, visions of his father tearing Odine from his arms and strangling her, helpless to save his sister, he woke up screaming and crying, until Dardanos was keeping him in his own bed, sleeping side by side. He manipulated the nightmares into a nothingness, feeling Sumner’s tense body grow lax, falling into slumber.

Sumner woke an inch from Dardanos’s face, huffing a tired, surprised breath. He rolled, standing up and hitting the floor, legs buckling under the sudden weight. Dardanos did not move, but Sumner heard the small laugh from the bed, scowling at the sheets.

Sumner felt well enough to eat on his own, but the rain continued, and he whined.

“How long does it even last here?”

“Rain is bad for this village,” Dardanos sighed. “The ground is unwalkable. Apparently the first settlers did not know this, and the rain came but they revelled in their pilgrimage. Needless to say, they found out far too late that mud is a dangerous foe. Stuck, sinking, down and down until they were swallowed whole. That is the price one pays for having no diligence. Though luckily Haven is a good defender. Odine I’m sure is safe.”

Odine chirped, thoroughly enjoying Haven’s company. She chattered on about herself, helping to cook and clean where possible. Seraphim had become caught in the storm, and now sat among them in peace. Odine shivered.

“The rain brings about such a chill!” She laughed. “I miss the fire when I first came.”

“Sit by me,” Seraphim smiled. Odine blushed.

“R...Really?” She smiled. Haven paused, before hiding a small smile, prodding at the cooking food. She shuffled over and plopped down into Seraphim’s side, letting him put his arm around her, drawing her close and wrapping his cloak over her shoulder. She chirped away, flustered.

“Is that better?” He asked her. She nestled into him further.

“Y-Yes,” She beamed. “It’s lovely.”

Haven stared at them, brow raised. Seraphim chuckled.

“I’ve a whole other side free, Haven, if you’d like a cuddle- don’t throw things at me!”

Haven scowled, shuffling further away. Seraphim laughed, unfazed by the small pebble bouncing off of his chest. Haven huffed, curling up on the floor.

Odine hoped Sumner was doing just as well.