#highwayman garrett

The cycle was still relatively the same. The ever-waxing and waning dance of death and life that permeated the strange lands that attracted equal amounts of new foolhardy hands and strange creatures. More mercenaries came. More expeditions happened. Blood, coin, and treasure were both shed and gathered. 

Though for some of those hands, mainly the veteran crew, they were taking a break. A time to rest their bodies and minds and gather their strength again before they threw themselves back in those dark pits.

Garrett was one of them. Still bothered by how his expedition had gone weeks prior. Despite being cleared to go out on future expeditions, he felt like he still needed some time to recover.

His Curse hadn’t grown worse, and his leech companion had been behaving fairly well, but there was a pit of worry in his heart that just wouldn’t leave him. He was glad Naidia wasn’t back yet and was even happier her brothers left him alone, minus their brief run-ins a few times around the Hamlet, which he suspected was done on purpose to catch him off guard. 

The brief chats were tense. Santiago’s size and stone face were always intimidating, as were the tools he carried, and Lucero hid his dislike for the Highwayman well behind a beaming smile, many hand gestures, and overcomplicated words. Garrett was just waiting for the day Lucero would prick him with a hidden needle in that cane of his that would lead to his untimely death hours or days later.  But the chats went mostly well without him needing to employ a little bit of his silver tongue, as the twins at least honored their sister’s “questionable” courtship with the “reformed” bandit. 

Garrett quietly thanked the Light and any other higher being for letting the chats go smoothly, as he had some fears the twins would take advantage of their sister being gone to finally get rid of him.

With one series of troubling talks came another that he kept putting off. Garrett wanted to have that long-promised chat with Rami concerning certain subjects, but he kept putting it off. Eventually, the Occultist told his dear friend in the kindest, but quite blunt, manner to “just find me when you are ready before you lose your senses again.”

He felt horrible that he was so wishy-washy on the subject, but he just still didn’t feel like he was ready yet.

To get his mind off the subject and attempt to get him in the mood to speak about it, Garrett threw himself at what he did best when not on a mission. Candle making and bookbinding. He picked up the latter from his dear friend Rami. It was more of a hobby, but the books and journals he made here and there were selling well in the shop.

Working in the candle shop helped relieve a great deal of stress still clinging to his mind, and bantering with his fellow Highwaymen and a few other mercs also helped. 

Though Dismas had to kick him out of the shop in the dead of the night when the man let himself get a little too lost in his work and had been neglecting his sleep. After a little trade caravan had passed through the Hamlet weeks ago, and he had spotted some intricate-looking carved candles, he had an ever-burning itch to try to replicate what he saw.

For days, he toiled away with his experiments. Various batches of wax were made to find just the right formula for all the layers to build properly, and then that careful game of balancing the temperature so it wouldn’t be too hard or too soft to carve into. He had to deal with Dismas and Arsène, the main owners of the shop, getting ticked off at the failed experiments and wasted resources. Dismas threatened to dock Garrett’s share of the profits if he continued to waste supplies. But with some sly words and some rare rum Dismas had taken a liking to, Garrett got away with a few more mess-ups until he finally nailed it. 

The new candles became a hit. Especially for the Hamlet’s exports.

Even with the new demand, meaning he had to spend time teaching his fellow candlemakers how to make the fairly time-consuming specialty candles when he wanted to make them, Garrett found it rather relaxing.

It took just a few days for his thoughts to finally circle back to his promised chat with Rami. Though he still had that ever-nagging, dreadful worry, he felt he was in a better enough mood to talk about the heavy subjects. He found the man one night in the observatory of the Athenaeum and told him he was finally ready to chat. Rami was pleased to hear that. He told him they would have their fated chat in the morning, and he had just the private place where no one would overhear or disturb them.

Garrett was both relieved and worried. He wished he could chase that worry out, but it hung tightly to his heart, rousing another emotion he wanted to cut out. Guilt.

Will I tell him the truth of that night or skirt around it? The thought ate him for the rest of the night.

He again toyed with the idea of dragging Dismas along, but knew it would be selfish and hurt the man.

He couldn’t do that to the man. Their story tread a similar path and had a few divergences, but that night had the greatest difference. An earth-shattering change that he actively lied about whenever the two would converse about the night. He couldn’t spit it out. It hurt him so much and still wracked him with tremendous guilt. How often he would dream he could redo that day, those people came to him, to blackmail him for “one final job.”

Garrett swore to himself that he would never tell Dismas how things played out for him… until the time was right. He didn’t want to plant more seeds of doubt and paranoia in his fellow Highwayman’s mind.

He still has his chance at redemption compared to me. Tch. Heh. Why do I lie to myself by working in these strange lands? Redemption. Feh! Damnation has me by the neck… I should have stayed dead.

From time to time, such negative, dark thoughts would enter his mind and entertain that weak part of his mind with the idea of throwing it all away again. But that would be a waste of the Heirs’ hard work to bring him back from the edge of darkness. Naidia’s hard work. Lady Naidia Cervantes.

Gods. I still can’t believe it. What changed between us that made her pursue a relationship with me? I was such a shameless fool back then…

Thinking about the Heiress made his head and heart hurt. Even several months later, he had to remind himself he wasn’t dreaming and the two were dating each other, especially with how much of a shameless flirt he was since he first arrived at the Hamlet. So many hearts he toyed with, but never went too far. Yet, there were a few cases of angry family members who would chase him around the Hamlet, especially after he had a few rounds at the Tavern. But they would swiftly give up since the Highwayman knew the twisted streets like the back of his hand and saw the chases as a way to keep his mind and body sharp. 

But, her, Naidia, he always came back to her, no matter the subtle threats and pure disgust she showed whenever he would blatantly flirt with her — Dismas’ quick tongue rarely saved him whenever he was around, and Garrett questioned how those veiled threats from Naidia’s younger siblings never truly frightened him enough for him to stay away. He didn’t know why he always gravitated back to her. There was just something about her that he liked;  he had trouble putting his finger on it.

She has layers… many layers I’ve come to learn over the months. So different from the various aristocrats I have stolen from or shaken down in my life… This place is more than just a business venture for her and her siblings to lay claim to the inheritance. She wants to right her Ancestor’s wrongs, even if it takes a toll on her.

Maybe it was the shrouded kind heart that bewitched him? Maybe… Just maybe… 

Maybe that’s why she gave me a chance after my “humbling.” I still don’t deserve it…

His mind would entertain talking about his unusual relationship when he would chat with Rami in the morning. Though he didn’t want to admit it, it intersected closely with his other problem. Too close for his liking. It made him… hesitant to commit himself to her fully. And he knew she could sense that. Rami easily picked that up. He wondered how many others who knew of the secret courtship figured out that issue.

We’ll see how things go… can’t force it out. 

  —————————————

Come the next morning, Garrett found Rami around one of his usual meditation spots in the Hamlet, enjoying a fresh muffin from the Rose Moon Bakery. To his surprise, his friend had a new fancy half-mask to hide the disfigurement on the left side of his face. It was a weathered bronze like the charms that hung around his skull focus. It bore a partial likeness to his face with faint etches of bark.

He teased him if he was tired of looking like a mummy, which the man only replied with an eye roll.

Rami snapped up his morning treat in a few bites, and with his focus in hand, he led Garrett out of the Hamlet northwards in the direction of the Ruins of the Estate. But they would not be traveling there. 

The location was about 20 minutes away on foot. Rami was taking him to an old graveyard in a long-forgotten sister-town to the Hamlet; just one of several. One of the few structures that hadn’t crumbled to time or been consumed by nature was the remains of the fractured bell tower, some stone walls, broken gravestones, and an old, rusted iron fence.

On the long walk, the two conversed about the usual happenings in the Hamlet, local towns, and local nuisances. It was the usual news.

As they arrived, the location irked Garrett. He had been there before to help eliminate a horde of undead, one of those troublesome Necromancers from the Ruins had raised. What a tiresome set of days that was, finding all of the Necromancer’s sigils and destroying them to keep the man creature from coming back and to vanquish the restless dead… which didn’t fully solve the problem. Seemed like the Necromancer’s machinations also pulled back the spirits of the long-forgotten dead, and they were not happy. It took bringing one of the priests from the Abbey, a lot of prayers, and gifts to put the dead to rest. And still, they needed to keep the place nice to avoid any future issues.

Naidia was rather peeved with the resources that had to be spent to appease the dead with “renovating” the graveyard, but knew it was for the best. She had the graveyard restored to its previous state before the Necromancer had desecrated it. She also restored the broken grave markers and some statues that looked like they had honored protectors of the past, and had an easily maintainable garden installed. Just something extra to give peace to the dead.

  —————————————

“Rami…” Garrett’s hoarse voice hitched as his friend led him deeper in the graveyard.

His eyes darted with each carefully trodden step, Garrett’s hand slowly dipped towards his waist, which held his blade. As they entered the location, he noticed there was some freshly overturned soil. Soil that should have been undisturbed for months after the renovations had finished.

“Calm yourself.” Rami chided him, waving a chopping hand. “Use those keen instincts of yours.”

Garrett snorted and shot him a look, but the Occultist paid him no attention.

With another snort and rolling his eyes, Garrett scanned the environment. Instincts that had kept him alive for a long time went to work, finding a few more spots of that freshly overturned soil. A few were located on some graves, and others were scattered about here and there. Studying the graves, he couldn’t make out if something had dug into the soil or had dug out of it.

Great. Either we’ve got some dead wandering around that can attack anyone traveling the roads, or we have graverobbers that are going to disturb the hard work we did here. He grumbled as his thoughts ran through the worst-case scenarios.

As he continued to study their surroundings, he noticed something else. New plants. Strange plants. A few that would seem ill-suited for their current humid climate. Thick, fleshy plants with swollen stems and/or leaves, adapted to dry environments. Succulents were the name for such plants that he had come to learn from Naidia. Most parts of the plants ranged from a light muted green to a much darker and richer green, but also sported some parts full of vibrant colors. 

“The Kal'mar'tyr have made it out here?” Garrett asked, surprised to see those strange plants. Especially seeing one plant that was quite similar to Naidia’s otherworldly plant companion — a trailing plant with many small green cylindrical leaves whose green shifted into a deep red-purple hue towards the woody stems. A few other plants also expressed the hue change.

“Ah, your eyes have finally noticed.” Rami chuckled, which only got him a glare from his friend. “They have come here after some reports of those bloodsuckers were trying to establish a hive here. And the dead did not take kindly to their home being disturbed again. It was quite the mess to get everything sorted out, from what I have heard.”

“Huh…” Garrett muttered. Spotting another fresh grave had him grip his knife. With his free hand, he pointed out the spot. “And how are those dead feeling?”  

 “Quite fine, actually.” Rami waved his hand to calm the man down. “From what I’ve heard and,” he raised his skull focus slightly and tapped at the metal charms, “the dead with more… stronger minds… have made pacts with the Kal'mar'tyr to protect their home and help cleanse the lands.”

Garrett’s neck tightened as his eyes darted around again. For once, he wished he had a touch of that bloodlust coursing through his veins to heighten his senses. So far, he had heard no shuffling of the dead, and all trails from those graves quickly disappeared, being consumed by the foliage. H could barely smell a thing, minus freshly dug earth.

“Calm yourself.” Rami said to him again. “They are friendly and will keep their distance from us as long as we respect this area.”

“So you say.” He had his doubts.

Rami eventually led him to an old, crooked weeping willow, whose leaves gently twisted and turned in the breeze. Given his legs some rest, Rami sat down on the marble bench, stained by the moss growing within its cracks.

Garrett paced back and forth with heavy bootfalls. His mind was fully on the walking dead somewhere out there and the Kal'mar'tyr presence. 

Ugh, already stressing about what I want to talk about and what I may share, and now this? He groaned in his mind. And didn’t he say this was going to be private!? I feel like those plants could listen in.

It took Rami asking if he was trying to dig a ditch with a faint hint of a tease for Garrett to pull himself from his thoughts.

His fingers tightened around his blade one last time before he finally released it. 

“So…” He let his voice trail off as he raised a hand and gestured all around, even taking a few steps to do a full rotation to get his point across. “A nice, quiet place, huh?”

Mustache wrinkling only for a second as he fought the urge to roll his eyes, Rami let out an annoyed sigh. “They will not hear our discussion. None of the dead are nearby. Just the plants.”

“Yeah, those plants.” 

“My friend,” Rami narrowed his eyes, “they will not hear us. But!” Slowly, he raised his skull focus. The candle flickered purple, and the charms rattled. A faint croaking permeated the air. “I can soothe that paranoid part of your brain if you wish for me to.”

Garrett recoiled when he heard that croaking. He swore he felt the touch of Rami’s patron on his shoulders and faint hints of that old laughter. 

“No!” Garret flinched, not expecting himself to blurt out an answer like that. He flinched again when those metal charms rattled, and he heard a faint laughter. Gods, why is it toying with me now? Turning his face away as he tugged on his neckerchief, he cleared his throat. “No… no… I… trust your judgement. Your friend, on the other hand…”

Rami let out a little snicker as he returned his focus to his lap. “They won’t tell a soul.”  He then gently gestured with his hand for his friend to speak.

“Hm…” A rough sound came from Garrett as he sucked air through his teeth before swallowing hard. He could feel his stomach slowly twisting into knots as that queasy feeling of pain and guilt was seeping into every part of his being; it even made his leech squirm. With another hard swallow, he closed his eyes and shook his head. Need to face these demons. 

His hand dropped down to the side that had the locket looped around one of his belts. Gently, he unraveled it from the belt and caressed it in his hands, letting the faint engravings and scratches roll under his fingers. He took a few steps over to Rami. There was a faint click. 

“Raise your hand. Palm up.” He instructed him. Rami did so. 

The next second, the silver locket and its chain fell into Rami’s palm. It was partially ajar.

Rami’s eyes lit up with surprise. The candle to his focus even flickered in an array of colors. 

Garrett took in a shaky breath as he took a few steps back before turning his back to his friend. “This is… perhaps… the heaviest subject I will ever share with you.” 

Rami kept an eye trained on Garrett, half expecting the man to run back over and snatch this prized object from his palm, but the man didn’t move. He just occasionally glanced back at him. Like he was waiting.

Making sure his focus was well balanced in his lap, Rami carefully shifted the locket in his hands, getting a feel for the object and the strong emotions tethered to it, before he gently opened it.

There were two pictures in it. He saw the one on the right first. A little family portrait, a dark-brown-haired woman in her 30s with a young, bright-eyed, and beaming girl who had sandy brown hair. And as his thumb moved, revealing the picture on the left, he gasped. His eyes shot up and over to his friend. He saw those shoulders tense tightly before dropping as low as he let his head hang.

Eyes still wide, they returned to the locket and the second image. Another family portrait that had the woman and child, but the third person was Garrett; he was holding the young girl. Not in the rugged attire he had become accustomed to over the months, but wore something similar to what he usually wore when toiling away in that candle shop. Though still sporting some gray in his brown hair, the man looked fairly happy and had fewer stress lines peppering his face. 

Rami didn’t have to study the pictures for long to notice the resemblance and the rings. Gently, he closed the locket with a soft click. He closed his eyes and wordlessly muttered a faint prayer. His free hand tapped away at those metal charms. The candle flickered with each tap. A branch creaking accompanied it.

Ah… his path is one of the tricky ones. I see why he’s been so bothered with the topic… Why he and the Heiress’ relations are so… strange. I can hardly imagine the weight he carries on his soul since that unfortunate night. Rami thought to himself. And explains why you find him so interesting. 

Rami was barely halfway through his prayer and many thoughts, before a rough throat clearing and a few branches breaking under a foot made him open his eyes.

Garrett had started pacing again. His head hung low, and his eyes were nearly closed as just the faintest shift of his facial muscles told that he was glancing at his friend.

“That is my… my… my wife and daughter.” The rasp in his voice nearly held back the words. “Was… them.” His voice cracked for just a second. “Elizabeth and Abigail…” Every word spoken was laced with pain.

Silence overtook the conversation again. Rami let it. He had to gather his thoughts on how to carefully tread the conversation, and he knew Garrett was fighting with his emotions after sharing the first drop of this secret he held close to his heart. A stone had been shifted, and more were just waiting to cascade down the waterfall of memories. 

Rami moved his mouth as he wordlessly mouthed his thoughts before nodding to himself a few times. A few charms on his focus tinged together.

“Tell me about them.” Rami said. He felt like that would be a soft start before the night that turned his friend’s life upside down.

As if he had been caught in the sights of some predatory animal, Garrett froze in his tracks; his back was facing Rami. Every muscle in his body tensed as his head tilted from one side, then to the other, until he finally shook it and turned around. The turmoil was evident on his twisted face. A few wet trails on his face twinkled under the sunlight,

Garrett went over to Rami and sat down on the open spot of the bench. He hunched over as he interlaced his fingers together and let out a long sigh.

“Elizabeth and I grew up in the same town. In our teens, we rarely crossed paths. Even more so under the protective eye of her father, who was the sheriff. I was just starting my journey into fighting and then that criminal underworld due to an unstable home life and my lackluster apprenticeship at the candle shop.” He let out a faint chuckle. Sometimes, he wondered, if he had just sucked it up working with the cranky old man his parents forced him to apprentice with, how would his life have turned out?

 The man continued. His memory was a little spotty on how the two started “talking,” but he felt like he was the instigator after overhearing some snooty comments from her friends about how he was destined for life behind bars, with the rumors spreading about him working for some rather seedy people. One thing led to another, and Elizabeth took on a strange challenge to help him stay away from the criminal life. At first, he only attended their meetings to tick off her father, and he loved how red-faced the man would get as he tried to hold in his anger and keep a calm voice. Garrett. had little interest in stopping the illegal fighting he was getting into and the occasional petty theft he would commit for a guild he had just finished his initiation for. But over time, a genuine friendship blossomed and something more.

“She was… my first love.” It hurt him to speak those words.

He could recall how confusing those feelings were at first. She clouded every part of his mind for hours on end, affecting his job. He had to avoid their little meetings so that he could think straight. He couldn’t be in love, especially with the sheriff’s daughter. That was asking for trouble.  It didn’t take long before she managed to corner him one evening when he was taking care of the trash for the candle shop. Turned out the feelings were mutual, to his surprise.

They tried to keep their distance at first, but that didn’t work out as well as they hoped. They then decided to test the waters, doing their best to keep the relationship secret, before it grew more and more passionate over time. And as some teens did when passions flared high, they had sex. Several times.

“She got me rethinking my life… I was still doing petty thefts that were escalating into more elaborate heists. And don’t get me started on the fighting. To think I miss that dark, musty ol’ pit.” He let out a sad chuckle with a faint smile. “The old owner of that candle shop had been bought out by someone much nicer who didn’t treat me like a whipping boy. Felt like I was finally learning how the whole shop operated properly… It made me consider withdrawing from that guild and the fighting ring.” He let out another chuckle before he closed his eyes tightly. The muscles twitched as they betrayed him, allowing streams of tears to flow down. The corners of his lips threatened to join in. No amount of grinding his teeth could stop it.

The next set of memories made him want to go back in time and slap himself and scold both of them for getting so careless. Youth… so young and clueless.

His breathing hitched as he felt a hand on his shoulder and a gentle squeeze. There was the faint tinkling of metal, but nothing else followed. He was thankful for that. He didn’t need to look; he gave a faint nod before continuing his story.

The two teens had been getting a little careless as they grew more passionate for each other. It was only a matter of time before they were caught. He was glad it was some hours post sex, but wished it wasn’t her father who had found them.

“I had to run for my life. I had to leave town. Heh.” Even as he laughed, his eyes barely showed a glint of happiness. They were hollow with faint, shimmering tears forming in the corners. “That man and his posse would have made an example out of me if I weren’t so quick-footed.”

He recalled he was barely able to lose them to catch his breath. Returning home was dangerous, as there were a few lawmen staked out there and at the candle shop. He was able to sneak in to get a few clothes and some items before he had to bolt again and leave town.

“Think they kept up the chase for a few weeks before giving up. Or the guild had something to do with it.” He shrugged. “Either way, I know I couldn’t go back home. I was a dead man walking in her father’s eyes in more ways than one. And who knew what my parents thought.” He rolled his eyes at the mention of his parents. He didn’t really care what they thought with how little they cared for him. “So I drifted… told you some of those stories before.”

“Mhm.” Rami acknowledged faintly to the quick mention of those stories.

Garrett recited how he traveled from town to town, town to city, and city to city, eking out a rough existence. It didn’t take long for him to fully fall into the life of crime and find his home with a ruthless syndicate. It escalated from petty thefts to strong-arming businesses, and the occasional murder when it was needed. It was nasty work, but he enjoyed it in some dark fashion.

“Then my crew and I’s ill-fated ‘slip up.’ Still think someone set us up to take the fall.” He grumbled, remembering the day a Stagecoach caravan robbery went sour. There were far too many guards compared to what the reports contained, and backup arrived unusually fast.

He rubbed the back of his neck, remembering the pain of a baton coming down hard on him repeatedly, before shifting to rubbing his wrists. “Shackled for years, awaiting the day of my execution as my life story had finally caught up to me.”

He couldn’t lie; he was bitter back then with the hand he was dealt. Cursing out whoever caused that robbery to go sour and then cursing out the universe for his current lot in life. But over the years, as he awaited the dreaded day, he mellowed out and became more somber. Just faint memories of the life he could have had tormented his mind constantly.

He was so somber in fact, when the fated prison riot happened, he didn’t move from his cell. There was his chance at freedom, and he did not care. 

“Still can’t believe a guard pitied me when he came round to my cell and found me sitting there. I… I hope he’s okay.”

That was still such a strange show of kindness from the guard. He undid his shackles and told him to get out of there and run. He even shared his thoughts on why he believed Garrett hadn’t been executed yet, though the prison warden wanted him dead. Dirty deals and hands were all around.

Garrett wasn’t sure what possessed him, but those dreams of freedom — as well as faint wishes for answers — came back to him and energized his being. He listened to the guard and left, not before knocking him out and hiding his body to make it seem like he had no help in escaping. He was a hunted man over the weeks and a few years. Frequently, haggard and starving as he drifted from city to city, town to town, just to stay free. During that time, he found a new trusty blade, a flintlock pistol, a neckerchief, and an old coat that he still used to this day.

“I think traveling across the continent finally gave me some reprieve… still can’t believe where I ended up.”

It took forever to lose most of the heat and stumble upon a countryside that didn’t have a hint of his wanted poster or news of that mass prison riot. He could finally rest. Which was difficult as he was half-starved and sickly. He questioned how he even operated during that time — most of his memories were still hazy.

Eventually, he stumbled across a rather cozy town and stuck to the shadows. He easily blended in with the few homeless there with his haggard appearance, scrapping by on the meager scraps he could find here and there. Until one night came and forced him to reveal there was more to him than met the eye. Some young idiots were harassing a young woman who was closing up the local bakery. 

As he told this part of the story, his tone took on a more vicious anger, with a hint of fury burning in his eyes. The memories were oddly clear for him.

The ruffians just refused to leave her alone and were starting to get handsy when he finally stepped in. Even in his weakened state, he managed to break one’s nose and dislocate the other’s shoulder, sending them running with their tails between their legs. As soon as he was done, he quickly disappeared back into the shadows before the woman could thank him. The one good deed made his heart lighter. His body didn’t like the sudden exertion. Before he knew it, he was fighting a terrible fever.

“Heh… If I had never gotten that fever, she would have never been able to track me down. And if she never found me… I would be dead.” He chuckled at the morbid scenario.

Due to how bad his fever became, he had trouble recalling what happened. It all felt like a hallucination to him on that cold, rainy night. She had found him in an alleyway, tucked under a hole-ridden canopy, covered in a soaked blanket as he tried to stay warm. She took pity on his sorry state and brought him to her home. He wasn’t sure if he protested, and he believed he did, but knew he was in no shape to fight back.

“Little did I know, even in my starved, sick, and bearded state, she recognized me.” His voice dropped into a mere whispered rasp. He flexed his fingers a few times. Even now, many years later, he still couldn’t believe it.

Rami let out a faint chuckle as his mind quickly figured things out. “That she was Elizabeth, correct?” Rami asked. Garrett nodded. “What luck you had drifting to that town… I presume it wasn’t your hometown?”

“No, far away from that place. Very far away.” 

Garrett continued with his fever tale, filling in the gaps with information Elizabeth gave him at a later date. 

Her aunt, Madam Maeve, her father’s estranged sister, with whom she was living, was not too pleased that she had brought home a strange, dirty, and sick man to the house and that she insisted on helping him because he had saved her a few nights ago. Her aunt grew even more displeased when Elizabeth said she believed it was her old love.

Despite her aunt’s misgivings and complaints, the stern old woman assisted her and nursed Garrett back to health. It took some days for the fever to break, several more before he could coherently think and talk, and some weeks before he had a semblance of a grain of strength back. Once he could move on his own again, even if he grew easily winded, he was about ready to leave the house in the dead of night when Elizebeth came in.

“I… I thought I was still trapped in that infernal fever when she told me who she was.”

That cynical part of him that hated the universe had put that distant past of his youth under heavy lock and key to keep the sadness away. He didn’t believe her. Didn’t want to believe her, but the longer he looked at her, he could see the resemblance to what she looked like in her teens. It broke that lock, and all the memories flooded his mind; the same with many old feelings. He had so many questions for her, but wanted none of the answers. Even more so when her daughter stumbled into the room due to a nightmare. In an instant, he felt his heart break as he watched Elizabeth soothe her daughter before taking her back to her bedroom. 

When she came back, he didn’t really care to talk and only wanted to know what he could do to repay her kindness, so he could eventually leave and not be a disturbance to her family. That threw her off, and the two soon began to bicker before she blurted out that the girl was his daughter.

“I felt like such a fool with the assumptions I made.”

There was no other man in the picture. It was just Elizebeth, her daughter, and her aunt. Garrett asked if she was sure that her daughter was his and received a well-deserved reaming that the only person she was ever intimate with was him before her father chased him out of town. He was still hesitant to believe her, but as she explained what happened the following months after he was gone, he began to believe her.

“The sheriff’s unwed daughter was with child, and the father was a known hooligan? Scandalous.” Garrett chuckled. “The man did his best to stomp out all rumors and swiftly sent her to live with his estranged sister. Both as a punishment and to have the child far away.” He shook his head. “What he didn’t expect was her refusing to come back home some months after the child was born and cutting him out of her life. His ‘poor influence’ of a sister enlightened her. And then she didn’t want to be separated from her daughter.” He snorted.

Madam Maeve was stern, but was understanding of her predicament and was the rock she needed.

It was a lot of information for Garrett to absorb that night. He had to have her explain everything to him again over the next few days. In truth, the news made him uncomfortable in ways he had trouble deciphering. He was a father. An absent, criminal one at that, but he had a child. 

“Best way to describe my emotions would be like… a whirlwind of a cold storm.” Garrett let the words trickle out in a faint whisper. “Wasn’t sure how I should have felt… It was… a lot.”

Rami let out a faint mhm and nodded. He tugged on his mustache for a while as he let the silence hang. Garrett needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Such a revelation would be… life changing.” Rami broke the silence. A faint chuckle slipped out as he ordered the events of Garrett’s life story since his escape. “First, you’re on the run and wind up in the town your old teen flame is living in. Second, you saved her life one night. Third, she finds you and nurses you back to health from a terrible fever. And fourth, once you are faring better, you learn who she is, she seems to hold no ill will to you, and you have a daughter.” A few more chuckles slipped from Rami as he tapped at his focus with his free hand, causing the flame to flicker colors. There were the faint sounds of a few creaking branches. “I believe I would be just as shocked, confused, and lost as you with a litany of thoughts thicker than those holy books the Vestals carry.”

The little joke at their fellow compatriots made Garrett snort.

“I can only imagine you had the growing urge to run once your mind fully understood the news.” Rami continued tugging on his mustache as he inclined his head to one side. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Garrett stiffen and look away. “Or… perhaps… you wanted to—”

“Stay?” Garrett whispered. “I was… was… somewhere in-between.” His shoulders dropped low, as a heavy sigh escaped his lips. He let his head drop and hang for a while before straightening himself back up. “I… I was afraid. Was the universe being merciful to me? Or was this another cruel trick? The heart can suffer so easily…”

His heart was in turmoil as old memories of their forbidden romance plagued his mind for days. Dare he bring up those days to her and possibly hurt her? He constantly toyed with the idea as he noticed she didn’t seem hostile to him compared to her aunt, who seemed to be more privy to his checkered history. He overheard some of the hushed arguments the two would have outside of the room they had him in. The aunt did not agree with Elizabeth’s idea of letting him stay any longer until he had meat back on his bones, and perhaps longer if he needed some financial help and shelter. He didn’t blame the old woman; he wouldn’t trust himself if he were of a more sound character.

“Somehow… she convinced her aunt that I could stay even though I hadn’t decided if I wanted to stay.” Garrett still couldn’t believe that had happened. He faintly recalled the woman herself had a bit of a checkered past that led to her estrangement from her family; he wondered if Elizabeth pulled on those strings to make her aunt relent. “And then the old crone paid me a visit one afternoon when Elizabeth and Abigail were out. Felt like I was being grilled by Elizabeth’s father all those years back.” A faint chuckle slipped out.

The long talk was how he learned Madam Maeve was fairly privy to his criminal past, from what Elizabeth told her over the years, and present, as she learned some information from some news snippets and letters from friends scattered across the country. She bluntly told him that she didn’t trust him and wouldn’t hesitate to throw him out or rat him out to the town guards if he dared bring trouble to her home, her niece, and grandniece. She even told him of how she got her brother, that sheriff, banned from the town when he tried to drag Elizabeth back home some years ago. She didn’t care about “appearances” and wasn’t going to allow her “fool” of a brother to destroy the support system her niece had, nor separate her from her daughter. She would do better than what her own parents did to her and another sibling.

“She wasn’t all too polite, but I appreciated her bluntness.” Garrett said with an odd warmth to his voice. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “I think one reason why she was so protective of Elizabeth is that she went through something similar in her ‘young and carefree’ days.”  

“Oh?” Rami tilted his head.

“She had some quirks.” Garrett snorted. “Could curse like the most hardened sailor and fight like one too if needed.” Sometimes he wondered if the ghost of a salty sailor had possessed the woman whenever that would happen. “But I noticed she had a little covered shrine in her garden; she didn’t allow anyone to enter. She would disappear for some hours on odd days, but I noticed that around a certain part of the year, she would be gone all day. I have a feeling she lost someone close to her. I suspect a child with how overly doting and protective she could be with Abigail.”

“Hm, keen observations.” Rami nodded. “Perhaps she saw some of herself in Elizabeth? She didn’t want her repeating the same mistakes she may have made, but maybe… just maybe she could see those faint sparks of that young, dumb love you two may have held for each other?” He was voicing his theories.

Garrett snorted. “Spot on.” He nodded. “She picked up that Elizabeth still had feelings for me and my own turmoil. She was… blunt that if I stayed, I better not ‘sneer at’ Elizabeth’s kindness for saving my ‘sorry hide’ and I better not toy with her heart. She would kill me if I did. She had ways.” Oddly, he couldn’t help but grin as he remembered the not-at-all-subtle threat the woman made.

The woman tapped at the pot of tea she had brought in for the interrogation of a talk. A pot that had refilled his teacup several times with some rather delicious tea. It only took him a few seconds to get what she meant.

“Devious woman.” Garrett closed his eyes as the grin grew wider.

Though the two didn’t get along often, he admitted to Rami that he had to thank her for keeping him from perhaps making his biggest mistake. The talk encouraged him to stay, despite the potential dangers, but he was far away from those areas where he was a wanted man. He acknowledged his health wasn’t all too great, even with the fever gone, and he wanted to repay Elizabeth’s kindness for saving his life. Then there were those faint emotions he couldn’t keep buried forever concerning her, and he wanted to be in his daughter’s life; he didn’t voice those just yet, in fear Elizabeth would rescind his stay.

Over the next weeks to months, it was a slow process to get his strength and weight back, which his jumpiness towards doctors didn’t help the process until he finally learned how to trust one of them. Whenever he wasn’t dead tired, Garrett would clean the house so the ladies didn’t have to worry about that after a long day’s work. They appreciated it, minus when he accidentally rearranged some things, leading to some frustration in finding the items. When he could stand being outside for some hours, he did what he could to keep the garden clean, swiftly learning not to enter the shrine area and not to touch certain plants. He only had to make the mistake once before Madam Maeve put some fear into his heart that could rival his old boss. 

During that time, Garrett and Elizabeth slowly learned about how each other’s lives had gone since that ill-fated night. Those talks were difficult for him. 

Garrett felt guilty that he wasn’t there for her and her daughter back then. It was a miracle that her aunt was the support she needed, and the same with the town. He felt even more guilt when he had to talk around several of the things he did as he eked out his existence, drifting from place to place until he truly fell into the wrong crowd. He feared what her reaction would have been if he told her the whole truth. In some ways, he suspected she knew he had some heinous things to survive with the pity she showed him.

It took a few awkward chats over the months before Garrett and Elizebeth finally spoke about the elephant of the topic between the two.

“Our feelings for each other. Both of us still had them. We were… just unsure how to bring it up. We just… skirted around the topic.” Garrett’s voice began to drop into a whisper as he drummed his fingers against his thighs. “It was both enlightening and frightening. I… I hadn’t been telling her all of the details of my criminal career. Unless the police thought I was dead, I was still a wanted man… And then whoever in my old gang set up that failed heist.” He kept his voice to a low whisper as he growled out the last sentence. His fingers gripped the loose cloth of his pants, shaking angrily before he let it go.

A frustrated sigh left his lips as he craned his head to his left and rubbed his throat, making a few rough, grating clicks. “Still question that bloody setup.” The details of the heist would never leave his mind. He got his revenge in the end, but it still felt so hollow to him.

“Continue your tale before you rub your throat raw and reopen that old scar.” Rami gently chided.

“Hm?” He glanced at him before he suddenly froze. His eyes closed tight for a moment as his throat clicked uncomfortably dry with a hard swallow. A curse slipped out. “Right… and thanks…”

Dropping his hand back down to his lap, Garrett let his head hang back as he looked up at the sky.

“Our feelings for each other…” He was working to recall where he left off. “That was… something tricky to navigate. How much of it was still genuine and not us longing for a past we could never go back to?” There was a faint waver to his voice as he spoke. “And then… I was terrified of her aunt, especially in my still weakened state. There were a few times she ‘walked in’ if our chats were taking too long. Had to learn how to fake drink the tea the old crone gave me when it was just the two of us.” He let out a nervous laugh. He only had a few people he ever feared in his life, and she was still high up on the list.

“But… but… it seemed that our feelings were still genuine, and Elizabeth wanted to restart. I was more… reluctant…” He sighed. “I-I… I had already disturbed her quaint life and didn’t want to turn it upside down.”

“Afraid one day your pursuers would arrive and cause problems?” Rami asked. 

Garrett nodded. “Knowing the corrupt forces, they would all too eagerly say she and her aunt were aiding a criminal and haul them off too… I didn’t want that to happen…”

“And yeeeeet…” Rami gingerly waved his hand along to get his friend talking.

Closing his eyes, Garrett made a few throat clicks. “I… I reciprocated. Hesitantly, of course. Besides my criminal past… Well,” he paused as he rubbed his knuckles, “present… I was worried about her… our… daughter. Elizabeth had been referring to me as an old friend and had her call me Mr. Garrett. Which somehow became Mr. Carrot.” He smiled as a faint chuckle slipped out, just remembering how Abigail sounded saying his name and the silly nickname — sickeningly sweet, with a high-pitched giggle. Rami snorted at the nickname. “That was something that stumped Elizabeth, too, but she said we would figure it out in due time.”

“From what I saw,” Rami let his nail tap against the closed locket, “you two did.”

He nodded slowly.

Garrett explained how they took things slow after a few more discussions. They were only able to hide it from her aunt for a few weeks before the woman figured things out. Garrett thought for sure the woman was going to finally throw him out, but she didn’t. To the surprise of both of them, she only gave a stern warning. For Elizabeth, to not ignore her duties and to put her daughter first. And for him, not to try any funny business. Her threats still stood. He didn’t hesitate to agree. Elizabeth got a little mouthy with her aunt, but also agreed.

So, their little courtship continued. Some days it was a little awkward, but something was re-blossoming between the two.

As the months went by, and Garrett was regaining more and more of his strength, Elizabeth finally dragged him out of the house to take him around town and introduce him to the townsfolk. He wasn’t too thrilled by the idea, but if he wanted his relationship with her to work out, he had to lock away his paranoia and deal with it. Seemed that most of the town knew of the “strange guest” staying with her and Madam Maeve, and a few knew he was an old friend of Elizabeth’s. Something about that surprised him. He wasn’t sure why, since someone probably noticed his cleaning escapades in the garden, and there had been a few visitors here and there. And then somebody had to notice Elizabeth dragging his half-alive self back home that rainy night.

“It was… strange being treated so… kindly.” Garrett said in a near whisper. He was so used to most town or city folk avoiding him or cowering in fear if they saw him. “Maybe a few were leery of me as I suspected Elizabeth told them I was getting away from some rough hooligans, but over time, they quickly warmed up to me with her help.”

“I wonder if some days you thought you were still stuck in that fever?” Rami tossed in a little joke.

Garrett let out a laugh. “Right? It was all so surreal. Not helped that my people skills were rough.”

Rami chuckled. “But you eventually adapted, correct?”

He nodded. “It took some time, but I did.”

It took a few weeks’ worth of outings before he was more comfortable with the townsfolk and soon found himself performing some odd jobs here and there when he wasn’t helping Elizabeth out at her bakery.

“And it didn’t take me long to find my place back at a candle shop! Ha!” Garrett slapped his knee. “Mr. Ibram took me under his wing when I had casually mentioned some details of the candle-making process that a regular person wouldn’t have known. I was rusty, but it didn’t take long before I found my place again. Learned more under him than that cranky old bastard in my youth.”

Things were going well for him as he adapted to the town and its people. He was given a second chance at life.

“For once… the universe was being kind to me.” He let out a chuckle laced with a little bit of pain.

He took in a shaky breath before continuing his story.  “I think… it was about a year and a half later when he finally told Abigail I was her father.” 

Rami raised a brow, trying to decipher the faint waver in his friend’s voice. “Did it go…?” He dare didn’t finish it.

“Well, actually. Heh.” Smiling, he shook his head. “She was a little confused at first, but understood it. Her biggest concern was ‘does that mean I can’t call you Mr. Carrot anymore?’” He tried to keep a straight face, but a hearty laugh escaped his lungs. He just adored her.

Rami shook his head but chuckled.

“Just… everything was going great. Even Madam Maeve began to warm up to me after telling Abigail the truth.” He never thought the old woman would like him. He could tell she still had her reservations about him, but he had proved to her he could be trustworthy.

The years there seemed to blink by for him. It took another year before he and Elizabeth married. In about two years, he was co-owners of Mr. Ibram’s candle shop. He had more or less adapted to the town, and it felt like he had always lived there. His criminal past was just a small blip in his memory. 

“And some years later, we were going to have another child.” A wistful sigh left Garrett’s lips before he turned his face away from his friend. A few glistening drops fell. “But good times can’t last, now can they? The universe wasn’t done with me…” His voice cracked. 

Garrett flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder and the following squeeze. He didn’t turn to look.

“Take your time.” Rami said softly. The sniffles told him enough.

Garrett opened his mouth a few times to speak, but nothing but a choked, stuttered squeak came out. Closing his eyes tightly, he shook his head and let it hang low as he sniffled several times. Vigorously, he rubbed his throat before he took in a sharp gasp and grunted. 

 The speechlessness repeated a few more times before he was finally able to regain his voice.

It was the beginning of the fall. Those leaves were just beginning to turn those beautiful shades of red and orange. 

Business had been fair for both shops. Madam Maeve was away on a business trip but would be back by the end of the month. Elizabeth was finishing preparations for her assistants to run the bakery, as she and her daughter would be out of town for a few weeks, as they would be visiting a close friend along the coast. Garrett was a little worried they would be traveling so far and for so long, especially since the pregnancy had been rough, but somehow Elizabeth soothed his worries.

It was still some days before his wife and daughter would be on their way when Garrett had his ill-fated meeting with “old friends.” He was closing up the candle shop, taking out the refuse, when he was accosted by two people. It took a few punches before he got his bearings and fought back. He would have won if a knife had never pressed against his throat.

“Just how did they find me? Why did he have to be there?” Even with a trailing waver in his voice, it was full of venom as he recalled the terrible day.

He could clearly recall the third person walking into that ill-lit alleyway. One of the trusted underbosses. Vincent. The man got his few licks in pulverizing Garrett’s guts before he started talking like they were old friends that hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks. A few fake heartbroken jokes about him not coming back home after he had escaped from prison

Garrett spat that he didn’t have a home after that robbery went south. Someone set them up. That earned him a slap to his face.

Vincent feigned innocence that they would have never set up Garrett and his crew like that, as they were well-trusted and got work done. Garrett didn’t believe him. Against his better judgment, he told him they did a pretty shit job at showing that trust and never bothered with trying to break him and the others from prison. He even named the ones that were executed before the prison riot happened. That earned him a few more strikes.

That back and forth beatings and chats continued, with Vincent feigning concern about how he never came back to the gang again and how he must have had to scrap by until he found this little quaint town to mooch off of.

Garrett’s throat tightened as more venom seeped into his voice as he continued his story. He hated the moments that followed. How he wished he had thrown caution to the wind. He should have broken free from the other two, made a lot of noise to grab the attention of anyone, before throwing himself at Vincent. Things should have ended that night. 

He recalled how Vincent grabbed him by the chin and lifted his face and said, “And does that pretty woman know the truth? The real you? The wanted criminal? The murderer? It would be a shame if she had to learn the hard way.” 

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what that meant. It made his blood run cold, and all sound reasoning left his mind. He still hadn’t been entirely truthful to Elizabeth about his past, and he was thankful she had never pushed.

“I… I… I gave in and a-a-asked what they wanted.” Garrett choked on his words as he fought for air. “One last job… and I was free. Tch.” What a lie.

He wished he had bitten off Vincent’s finger when he called him a “good chap” and patted his face before telling him of the Stagecoach they wanted robbed a few nights from now. A singular Stagecoach. It wouldn’t be too hard for him if he weren’t too rusty. The security would be fair as it was transporting some valuable items and documents. What they wanted were the documents. Besides silencing a witness. 

The only question Garrett asks is if he would stay true to his word and leave him, his family, and this town alone. Vincent said they would and would even get rid of all those pesky bounties on his head. Garrett had his doubts.

After a few more “friendly” slaps, Vincent had the two thugs with him let go of Garrett before dropping a bag with the information he needed at his feet. He told him to clean up his sorry face before he went back home, and they would… see each other again once the job was done.

“I should have gotten the town guard involved and chased them down… but I didn’t. I was too much of a coward.” Garrett lamented.

“I wouldn’t call you a coward.” Rami chided. “You were caught off guard. Your new life was disturbed by a past you wish would never find you again. You did what you thought was best in the moment.”

Garrett only grumbled a response. 

He cleaned himself up the best he could, and he trudged back home. He was happy it was late, and his daughter was sleeping. Facing his wife was hard. He couldn’t hide the bruises slowly blossoming all over his face or how sensitive he was when she touched certain areas.

He told her a half-lie, saying he was roughed up by some young hooligans but managed to chase them off. She wanted to get the guards involved, but he didn’t. He said the broken ribs he gave them should have been enough of a lesson for them. It took a lot to soothe her worries and get her to drop the topic, but he had a feeling she never truly believed him.

He eventually sequestered himself in a private room and looked at the contents of that bag. It had just about everything he needed to know about the Stagecoach, the design, the driver, its guards, occupants, the route it would be taking, the contents it was carrying, and more. 

He didn’t like it. He wasn’t looking forward to having to kill again. He couldn’t let the guards live, and there was one occupant he had to silence. But the others… if he finessed it just right, they could live. But to protect his family, he was willing to leave no witnesses.

He found his old tools of the trade, going over every inch of the blade and pistol to make sure they were up for the job before he packed them away in a rucksack. He found that old coat and neckerchief tucked away deep in a closet. He still questioned why he kept them. All of it. Maybe just a faint reminder of the old life he prayed he never had to tread again?  If only he were so lucky. He made sure they were fit for the job before packing them again, along with some other items he would need.

He came up with a partial lie to Mr. Ibram that he would be gone for a few days, as he had caught wind that an ingredient he had been wanting to get his hands on would be on a trade caravan a few towns over. The older man wished him the best of luck and told him to bring back a few exotic ingredients for the shop.

Garrett told his wife the same lie. He could tell she didn’t fully believe him. There had been a faint nervous jumpiness to his actions for the last two days, and he had been more doting than usual to her and their daughter. She just told him to be careful and kissed his cheek. He gave a pained smile and said he would before kissing her back. He made sure to give a long hug to his daughter, promising her he would have something special for her when they got back from their trip. He had a feeling he would miss them before they left for the trip and prayed they would have a safe journey. 

He left swiftly and headed to the location that Stagecoach would be crossing through in a few nights. He staked out the beaten path, found the best areas to hide amongst the trees and thickets, and found where he could lay some traps to stop the Stagecoach and alarm bells to alert him of any other travelers that could interrupt the job.

He got himself changed and equipped for the upcoming night. He even sent off a few prayers to this so-called Light he had heard about from some traveling minister who had visited the town some time ago. He was skeptical about it, given how his life had been through the years, but he needed something, anything, that would look down on him for the gruesome task ahead.

“I guess it or the universe decided it was time for me to answer for sins.”

Eventually, the night came. Garrett didn’t want to speak of it, but the words began to flow against his will from an ever-tightening throat. Rami was familiar with some aspects of it, hearing the bits and pieces of the ill-fated night from other Highwaymen here and there, besides what Garrett had sparsely shared.

The Stagecoach came strolling down the path at a slow pace before triggering his trap that locked up the wheels.

One of the armed guards sitting next to the driver hopped down to see what the problem was. That’s when he moved to strike. 

Three shots killed the driver. One to the head and two to the chest. He quickly moved, sticking close to the tree line and darkness as the other guard hopped off the back. The light in the coach went out before two more guards exited it.

He managed to isolate one and quickly slit their throat before nailing the other in the head. The third managed to hit his shoulder with a shot; luckily, it was nowhere that would disable him. With some quick, fancy footwork, he managed to close the gap and plunge his knife into their chest before ending them quickly with a shot to the head.

“Barely had a moment to gather my thoughts when I heard rustling and something clicking.” His voice hitched as the horrid memories gripped him. 

How he wished he just waited until he was close to the Stagecoach. Would it have been more risky and possibly ended with him getting shot? Yes, but it would have saved him so much heartache.

He only glanced over his shoulder when he saw the shadows move to one side. It looked like someone had a weapon and was pointing it his way. He didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger, quickly reload, and shoot again for good measure when he noticed movement again.

“W-w-why did they have to make a sound?” That ever-tightening noose nearly silenced his words. Tears were flowing down his face. 

Even back then, he froze when he heard the faint cry that was cut short after that glass shattered. That snapped him to his senses. He screwed up his own plans to let the others, minus the witness, live. He rushed over to the Stagecoach and froze.

To the left was the witness he was going to silence, collapsed on the seat with blood pouring from their neck. They had a weapon. A cane, from the look of it. But on the right were Elizabeth and Abigail. Elizabeth was slumped against the set with a bleeding hole in her chest, holding Abigail limply in one arm, which was covered in blood.

“It… it was them. It shouldn’t have been them. But it was them. They shouldn’t have been in a Stagecoach this fancy.”

They made enough money to be comfortable, but not enough for them to afford such a pricey Stagecoach.

He nearly ripped the doors off their hinges as he clambered into the carriage to check them. Abigail was gone, but Elizabeth was still breathing, which was growing more labored by the second.

“I wish I held my tongue and said nothing. Wish I didn’t check to see if they were still alive…” He could recall his anguished cry when he realized his daughter was dead. Then Elizabeth said his name. Confused and pained.

He just broke down as he did what he could to try to save her and their unborn child, and begged her to forgive him. It was pointless; the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

“Even in her dying moments… she comforted me… I didn’t deserve her.” He still couldn’t believe that.

She didn’t question why he was there or what he did. It was almost as if she knew why. A little while later, she stopped breathing.

“I pleaded for her to come back. For both of them to come back. I cried. I yelled. I cursed.” His voice cracked even more. His fingers gripped his pants tightly. “I held onto them as long as I could before an alarm bell I had set up went off. Another coach was coming. One that shouldn’t have been, according to the schedule. I had to leave. I found what I was originally after and bolted. Didn’t have to check if their luggage was there or not.”

“And you grabbed the locket?” Rami added.

“And… and I grabbed Elizabeth’s locket…” He quietly muttered. 

Rami let the silence come back as he let his friend work out his emotions. Since Garrett hadn’t shaken off his hand, he kept it firmly on the man’s shoulder. Garrett had buried his face in his hands and was quietly sobbing. It took about 10 minutes before he stopped sobbing and 5 more minutes before he started talking again.

“Once I was a good distance away, I took a look at everything. Vincent had me cleaning up some kidnapping and robbery nonsense.” He growled, but the anger quickly gave way to despair. “And then… I looked at that locket. Looked just like my wife’s…” His eyes darted over to the locket in Rami’s other hand. “There was a part of me that was finding everything suspect. Was that truly my wife and child, or was that some poor look-alikes they had coached for that event… I had a feeling Vincent wanted me back in the gang and thought of some clever way to drag me back. Tch.” How he wished it were that simple.

“Opening it broke me again. I saw our pictures. My mind tried to rationalize that they were stolen and planted. I had to go home and check. That was the only way to confirm.”

He wasn’t sure if he even took a break as he raced back home. Just a small, rational side of his mind made him change, some distance away from the town, before reentering it, just in case the news of that Stagecoach robbery reached it. He arrived home, and his wife and daughter were gone. So was their luggage. His throat tightened as he turned over the house to find any clues that Vincent and his thugs had ever broken in, but he found nothing.

Then he found one of the operators for the transportation hub and bombarded them with questions. His frazzled demeanor threw them off. He should have known that his wife and daughter would have left a few days ago on their trip, but they keyed him in on a new detail. They had their tickets upgraded to a more luxurious coach that would get them to their destination faster. He tried to pry for more details, but couldn’t get much before leaving.

“Found Mr. Ibram again, told him my venture bore no fruit, and told him I would be gone again for a while due to personal issues. I thanked him for everything and left before he could ask questions.” There were still some cracks in his voice, but a faint rage was slowly building. “I found my gear again, got changed, and had my mind set on one thing. Revenge.”

He brought out the paper that had the location of where he was to meet to deliver the goods and set out for that city. Due to taking a few detours, he knew he would be late by several days and didn’t care. He’d use that to his advantage.

He eventually made it to the city and the rundown area that he assumed Vincent had set up operations. He skulked about in the shadows, learning the layout of the area, the locals, who was apart of the gang and who weren’t.

“Found the two thugs he used to accost me that night. They were joking about me being dead somewhere in the forest with the blood trail that was found. Seems like me living was never a guaranteed part of the plan.” He hissed.

Those two were his first kills. He isolated them one night when they were stumbling back to home base after a night of drinking.

“Killed the fool with several stabs to the gut and a slash to his neck. Made it look like a mugging gone wrong. I kept the smarter one alive. I needed details.”

It had been a while since he had interrogated someone, but it didn’t take long for all the rust to leave his being as he made the man squeal like a pig.

“50/50 if I lived or died. Seemed like someone else wanted me dead more than alive regarding details of my imprisonment. Vincent wanted me alive and back in the fold, as my skills were too good to waste. But my family would be a problem. Another 50/50. They would be collateral in that heist or not. Guess he thought if they lived and I saw they were inside, I would have wanted to cut ties and crawl back to him.”

Learning that information made his blood boil. Once he got all the information he needed, he killed the thug. Now, he just had to find Vincent.

“Took a few days before he was back in town. Practically fought my way inside their little hovel to get to him. What a broken heart can make a man do… There’s a fine line between love and madness.”

He still wasn’t sure how he did it and how he survived with the wounds he received. He was sure he was outnumbered, out-knifed, and outgunned, but he slaughtered his way through body after body to get to his target. He was sure several ran, making his task easier. It didn’t take long for him to find Vincent and corner him.

A devilish grin crept across his face as he shared the details. 

He had just finished slitting the throat of the last thug that stood in his way before kicking in the door to Vincent’s office. The man, doing his best to hide that he was terrified of the one-man slaughter taking place, was already yapping away about Garrett “making a big mistake” but “if he played his cards right, things could work out in the end.” Garrett tuned that rotten tongue out as he came into the room. His senses keen as every watched Vincent’s movements. Before he had a chance to reach for a weapon, Garrett had pulled out one of his throwing daggers and pinned the man’s hand to the wall. Seconds later, Garrett leapt over the table separating the two and threw himself at Vincent like the mad animal he was. He beat him to a bloody pulp, but didn’t kill him. He had questioned what needed answers.

“The man tried to keep his cool like he hadn’t completely lost control of the situation, but he was slowly faltering.” A dark laugh left his lips. “None of his subordinates were coming to save his sorry arse.”

What he had learned from the one thug was confirmed, and it seemed like Vincent wanted him to rejoin the gang, but needed that family out of the way in some fashion. He only apologized for Garrett getting “attachments,” which only earned him a series of vicious headbutts.

“And I finally got an answer for that failed heist long ago. Seems like my crew had upset the power structure, and to keep the other underbosses from revolting, we were set up to fall.” He spat. “Ludicrous…”

He told of the various promises, more like pleas, Vincent made once he told him everything. 

“I was going to kill him anyway, but the man just couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and it earned him a brutal death.”

Vincent just had to say he could get Garrett any woman he wanted if he let him live, and maybe even let him start a family that he would make sure would be unbothered by the gang and any enemies they had.

They just made him snap. He was originally going to slit the man’s throat and let him bleed out nice and slow, but instead, he stabbed him several times in the gut before carving him open like the pig he was, before he buried his knife up to the hilt in the man’s throat and cleaved the man’s head off his shoulders.

Garrett just looked at the mess of a body as his breathing was labored. The deed was done. He got his revenge. There was satisfaction. But… it lingered only for a little while before a hole just replaced it. He just felt hollow. He picked up his knives and stole some money and gear before leaving.

“And ever since then… I just drifted from place to place. Picking up odd jobs, applying my trade with a more ‘righteous’ bent, frequently acting as a body to help people with the occasional pilfering, with almost no violence, to live. I was like that for years, waiting to find some better purpose in life or for some brawl to be the death of me until the Hamlet drew me to it.” As the rage had left his voice, he was much more somber.

“Never returned home after that. Couldn’t. Couldn’t face Madam Maeve or the town. Gods… can’t even remember if I sent back a letter saying if I was dead or not.” He began sobbing as he thought of his wife’s aunt. “I know as soon as the news reached her, she would be heartbroken.” Sometimes, he wondered how she and the townsfolk were doing. 

The sobbing eventually turned to weeping once more as Garrett broke down and said the names of his wife and daughter again.

Rami just gently squeezed his shoulder a few times.

It took a long time before Garrett recomposed himself. Shaking Rami’s hand from his shoulder, he got up. Stomping the numbness out of his legs, he began to pace back and forth. 

“So that’s my story. My dark little secret. Tch.” He avoided looking at Rami.

Rami was silent for a while. Fingers tapping away at his focus, he was gathering his thoughts. It took some time before he nodded to himself.

“I feel humbled, you trust me enough to share such heart-wrenching details with me, my friend.” He said. “I feel as if I understand you better. That I…” He paused, unsure if he should touch on the topic, but felt it was necessary. “Understand how your personality was before your death and resurrection. That careless flirting of one trying to ignore the past and forget the pain. To be young again, loose and irresponsible.”

Garrett’s muscles tensed as he was reminded of his folly, but he nodded. Some days, he wished he could go back in time and slap some sense into himself and stop himself from doing that. It was a miracle he was still alive and walking with some of the fights he got into with angered brothers and fathers if he wasn’t fast enough to escape.

“You played with the hearts of the young ladies of the Hamlet and Estate. But could never truly commit. Couldn’t cross that boundary. Your heart still belonged to your late beloved.” Rami continued with his thoughts. Though the subject was serious, a faint chuckle slipped out as he noticed a strange detail. “Funnily! The ladies at the Brothel side of the Tavern loved you, since if you ever went there, you just wanted to talk. Nothing more. A lovely break compared to their usual clients.”

Just a brief snort came from Garrett as he nodded again.

“And despite it being such a puzzle…” Rami hesitated again. He knew he was going to broach a topic that could set his friend off. “I believe I understand your tentative courtship with Lady Naidia much better.”

As the mention of the Heiress, the man froze in his tracks. All of his muscles were tense. He was like that for a few minutes before his shoulders dropped and he hung his head low.

“Yes…” Garrett said in a low voice.

“Despite her warnings and the threats from her brothers, you always returned to her.” Rami continued.

“I’m a moth to the flame. Perhaps… I wanted it to burn me.”

“Perhaps before your humbling.” Rami chided. “Now you admire that flame and dance with it. A mutual dance.”

Garrett only grumbled.

Silence came back as Garrett continued pacing, and Rami thought of what he could say next.

 He may hate me for doing this, but I must carve open a few more layers. Rami took in a breath and steadied his mind.

“Garrett, what is it that intrigued you with Lady Naidia?” He asked. It was something he had been curious about for a long time. 

He had opened the locket again to get a better look at Elizabeth. The two looked nothing alike. Elizabeth had dark brown hair. Naidia had sandy blond hair. Elizabeth’s skin was a little pale but mostly fair. Naidia had more ruddy skin as if she had toiled under the sun for part of her life. Elizabeth had a beaming, cheery demeanor. Naidia had a serious, calculated face, rarely showing the soft core she had. And there were a few other obvious and subtle differences.

The question made Garrett stop in his tracks. His eyes slowly went wide as they shakily darted around. 

“I… I don’t… I…” His voice trailed off as he tried to find his words. It was as if the mere question knocked away all the reasons he was attracted to Naidia. “I’m… not sure.” He finally looked at Rami. The man had to hold in a laugh at his friend’s confused face.

“I know it had to be more than just her looks.” Rami joked. That only got a disgruntled sigh from Garrett.

Garrett came back over to him and sat down. Looking at the ground, his mind raced to find a reason, any reason. It took some time before it finally came to him.

“Her heart.” He nearly whispered it.

It took Rami gesturing for him to continue before he spoke again.

“Before we came to our… understanding… I noticed that, unlike more aristocrats I’ve dealt with in my checkered life, she actually cares for the Hamlet and its people. And this includes the Estate and the parts that separated itself from it due to what her Ancestor caused with his debauchery and madness.” 

He shifted his gaze to the sky as he cleared her throat.” She has her… masks… If I can say that. The hardened Heiress that is still kind, but has to be blunt and strong-willed to deal with this mess and the foolhardy people she employs.” He chuckled, mostly at himself. “And then the far…” His voice dropped to a careful whisper. No, not my place to share. He shook his head. “Both parts of her have a caring heart.”

The little pause had Rami curious, but he knew better than to pry. “Yes, I’ve noticed she cares, same with her brothers. She can be hard on us, but cares for those who put in the work and cause no trouble.”

“I-I still question why she intervened during my spiral.”  Garrett closed his eyes tightly as his face twisted, recalling that painful time. “She didn’t have to. Could have let me get myself killed on the next outing, and I would have stopped being an annoyance to her.” He was a good merc, but not that good. Just what did Dismas and the others say to convince her otherwise?

Before Rami could speak, a choked sob came from Garrett.

“B-b-both… b-b-both gave me another chance I didn’t deserve.” He wore a pained smile. “I… I… don’t want to lose Naidia like Elizabeth… I… I… I can’t go through that again.”

Rami wrinkled his nose as he had to reconfigure his thoughts.

“I assume this is why you have been more distant with her due to your Curse and special affliction?” Rami asked. 

“Yes…” The hoarseness of his voice nearly made the words silent. “I… I don’t want to harm her.”

“I doubt you can.” Rami said with a grin. The candle to his focus flicked a few times, and faint laughter could be heard. Seemed his patron was in agreement.

Garrett shot him a confused look before freezing, hearing that laughter. “What do you mean by that?”

“Like me, she has friends.” He gently patted his skull focus.

It took a few seconds before Garrett let out a disgruntled sigh and buried his face in his hands. How could he forget? “Still…” He had his worries. 

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Rami tutted, raising a finger like an annoyed professor. The flame of the candle flickered with each sound. “You worry too much. Besides, you have her overprotective brothers to worry about, I don’t think her friends would allow a crazed, wasting, or bloodlusted, you to lay a single finger on her.” More of that croaking laughter tickled their ears, much louder than the last time. Rami sighed and said something to his master to be quieter. 

“As you can hear,” he poked at his focus, “even they believe you would be swiftly dealt with if you tried anything. I’m not sure what the Keeper would do to you if you tried…” With how his voice trailed off, and he bit his lip, he felt like it would be something terrible. “But that plant. Ha!” He couldn’t help but laugh. “It would treat you like your leech treats your foes.”

Garrett trembled at the mere mention of that plant and his leech. He strongly disliked both. Slowly, he straightened himself back up and looked at him. He had a puzzled look on his face. “Keeper?” He couldn’t pin the name to anyone, and Naidia had never mentioned such a being.

“Just use that beautiful brain of yours for more than a moment.” Rami smiled. 

Garrett snorted. “Smartarse.”

Garrett let himself ponder for a little while. His eyes bounded from ground, to brick, to grave maker, to leaf, and back to ground a few times as he was having trouble racking his brain to find something.

“Keeper… Keeper… Keeper…” He muttered the name a few times. He shook his head. Still nothing. 

He thought of the items Naidia had on her at all times. He recalled the living plant ring that he knew came from the bloodsucking plant. Then he remembered the charms made of strange metal and bone. It seemed she would wear a different necklace every day and had a few others she wore loosely on her hip.

Who gave those to her again? Keeper… Keeper… Ke— Wait…

His eyes went wide before he slowly turned to look at Rami.

“Don’t tell me…” It was something he didn’t want to know.

Rami gestured for him to continue.

Without warning, he punched the man in the arm, nearly knocking him off the bench, causing him to yelp, before letting out the words through gritted teeth. “Head Recordkeeper Tessa.”

Rami barely kept his grip on his focus and the locket as he nearly fell off the bench. “Almost there.”

“Rami!” He hissed. “I don’t want to know more about her and the others.”

“Buuut, the closer you become to Lady Naidia, you will have to learn the truth sooner than later.”

He opened his mouth just for a second before slamming it shut. The man had a point. He looked away and picked at his nails. Maybe… He grumbled a few more times. “What… what are they like?”

“Oh?” Rami inclined his head to the side. “Finally ready to peer behind the veil?”

“Stop being a smartarse or else I’ll take back my question!” He warned.

Rami stifled a chuckle. “I can tell you only so much. But you have met an aspect of them through Tessa and the others. There is no ill will in them compared to others.” He would have tapped his focus if he didn’t want to tempt invoking his master’s wraith. “They are genuine in their aid to the Heirs despite their current predicament.”

“Predicament?” He looked at the man with a raised brow.

“Let’s just say, the Ancestor went back on a deal that led to their imprisonment in these lands and this planet.”

“Okay…” He slowly nodded. Sounded like the usual for that bastard. “And how is it not pissed about that?”

“Oh, it is, but only towards Ancestor Cervantes, who is long dead. Mostly. I believe an aspect of him haunts these lands.”

He cringed hearing that. He didn’t want to believe that, but with what he had seen over the months kept it from being too far-fetched. Supposedly, some hear a voice from time to time when we recover pieces of his journals.

“Funnily, I believe being trapped here has made the Keeper less aloof. Especially concerning the lives of us mortals.”

“That… that doesn’t ease my mind, Rami.” That made him worried for Naidia.

“When the time is right, you will understand.” 

Garrett figured he meant that would be when the Keeper would reveal itself to him. He hoped he was right.

He let out another annoyed sigh before rubbing his face. He got up and tapped the heel of his boots a few times.

“Thanks… again… for listening to my story.” He said. “For your words and… lack of judgement.”

 Rami smiled. He got up. “You are welcome.” He stretched out his hand with the locket. Garrett finally took it back and laced it back with his belts. “And thank you for trusting me with such information. I am humbled.”

Garrett snorted. “Just… just keep it to yourself. Don’t mention it to the others. Especially Dismas.”

“As if I would betray your trust.” Rami shook his head, but the mention of Dismas made him raise a brow. 

The candle to his focus flickered a few times, and the charms rattled. His eyes glazed over for just a second before he suddenly shook his head. 

“If I may ask…”

“Go ahead, I know how your big brain gets and hear the rattle.” He cast a hateful glance at the skull, only to flinch when he heard the creaking.

Rami rolled his eyes. “With how many of us are so alike… I take it, Dismas and your stories are pretty similar?”

The man nodded with some hesitation.

“But there is a difference for certain key parts?”

He nodded again. “For him… it’s…” He paused. It wasn’t for him to share. “Blood. Both were blood to him. He… didn’t check as I did. Didn’t do a thorough check and didn’t return home.”

“Ah…” Rami nodded. “I understand. You hope his folly ends on a more positive note than yours.”

“I… pray.” Which felt odd for him to say. “I really do.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

“Thank you.”

Garrett looked at the sky and then back to the ground and the shadows littering it. It was roughly past noon by his estimation.

“I believe it’s time we got back to the Hamlet.” He said and stretched. Rami simply nodded before the two started their long walk back.

  —————————————

The walk was fairly silent as the two were mostly in their thoughts and kept an ear out for anything that could be prowling about on the roads.

“Garrett.” Rami broke the silence. “Since you shared your secrets with me… In due time… I wish to share my with you.” He tapped at his skull focus. “Despite being a ‘learned man’, I am far from innocent.”

Garrett was lost in his thoughts before he snapped to. “Hm?” It took a second for his brain to catch up. “Uh, yeah. I’m willing to listen. Heh.” He nodded and held in a chuckle. He wondered what lines the man crossed to get his powers. A second later, he grimaced when he noticed the tapping. “As long as they’re fine with it.”

The candle flickered, and the sockets glowed a pale purple as laughter could be heard. A few of the metal charms rattled.

“They… are…” Rami’s words were stilted as he seemed to be in communication with his patron. “They… find you… entertaining.”

Garrett bristled at that. “Not sure if that’s good or bad.”

“It is…” He paused. More laughter came before for a few creaking cracks of branches and then silence. “Good. Fairly good.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He had his doubts.

It wasn’t long before they could see the Hamlet in the distance. It looked like stagecoaches full of fresh blood were arriving.

“Ah! Before I forget.” Rami said. “It is about the Lady.”

Garrett reflexively grimaced as his mind went back to prior conversations. “What about her?”

“I believe, like your late wife, she sees something more in you. That may be another reason why she intervened in your spiral. Another chance you didn’t deserve.”

Garrett paused in his tracks when he heard that. No, no, no. He didn’t want to believe that. “And what is it?”

He shrugged as he came to a stop. “I cannot say, for I do not know. You have to figure that out for yourself. Or ask her.”

His throat tightened again. “I…”

“You still have quite some time before she arrives back from her trip.” He tutted, which became a mischievous laugh. “And you still have some time to plan a special little gift for her.”

Garrett narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting on about?”

Rami laughed at first, thinking Garrett was getting annoyed at how cryptic he was being, but seeing his friend only became more annoyed and confused, made him realize the man was clueless.

“Lady Nadia’s birthday is coming up within two weeks or so. Do you not know?”

“What?” Garrett’s eyes widened. “I…” His face grew red hot before he looked away. “It… It’s never come up in conversation. The exact date is…” He faintly could recall she mentioned she was a mid-summer baby.

“Oh dear…” Rami tugged on his collar. “For someone as perceptive as you, I thought you would have gleaned that from her or some of the local gossip.”

“Well, I’ve had a lot on my mind as of late.” Garrett huffed. Closing his eyes tight, he took in several deep breaths. “But thank you for enlightening me.” The words were sincere. “Saving me from my ignorance and embarrassment.”

“I wish I could give you an exact date, my friend.”

“I’ll manage.” Garrett waved him off before they started walking again. “Dismas or Reynauld probably knows; they have been here since the beginning.” He suspected the two would be the best source. But two others came to mind. Ones that made him groan before he spoke again. “Or… her brothers…”

Rami’s brows shot up with concern, hearing that. “Willing to take such a risk?”

“Thinking about it. Have to broach it carefully with them. At least they still haven’t tried to get rid of me while she’s gone.”

“I wish you the best of luck.”