Rick and Benji sat by the table, not moving, unmoving like mountains, like gold in banks. None speaking, knight standing by the door, keeping watch. Bob sitting on the table, staring up at Rick with wonky eyes. Rick met Bob’s eyes. Yet, he didn’t see him, too immersed in his own mind, fatigue and exhaustion from doing nothing, his brain like mush, like a hot stew brewing for too long. Benji casting glances practically every second at the door, feet scratching at the floorboards, like an ant cleaning itself, like a dog's tail nervously tapping the ground. He turned to Rick, eyes black and drooping, looking as tired as Rick felt. He spoke the first words since he had woken, almost too silent for Rick to register.

“W-was that... t-the monster?”

Rick nodded, absentmindedly, no emotions surfacing, merely answering. Benji looked down with a twitch, casting a glance at the door, the door ruined to all niflheim. It wasn’t a pretty sight, nor a secure sight, but neither wanted to open it, do anything about it. The two fearing what they would see if they did. But Benji hadn’t been wake when most had happened, so his mind wasn’t reeling in a woken nightmare. And adding to his safe mind-space, was his two protectors being near, a reassurences only children could have.

“I-I’m going to go outside.”

Rick nodded, eyes slowly closing, visions of two glowing orbs staring at him from the blackness of the back of his eyes. But he woke quickly as his brain processed what Benji had just said. He jumped up on his feet, chair flying back, startling Benji something fierce, knight pointing an accusatory sword at him. Rick was too tired to care, jumping forward towards Benji, Bob jumping on, clinging with stumpy arms on his shoulder. Rick grabbed Benji, staring tiredly into his equally tired eyes, and pushed him behind himself.

Standing by the broken door, he took a deep breath, cold air tasting sour to his cold body, like eating ice when you already had a brain freeze. Then opened the door, it breaking down by the hinges, falling down in a heap, like dropped nails. Rick took a step back, a slight tinge of pain numbed by his tired head flashed in his foot, ignoring it, he stepped up and over the wrecked door. Meeting his sight was blissfully, nothing-

He saw something glittering in the low apple coloured morning sun. He ducked behind the door, hiding himself from whatever it was, doing his best to calm his already ragged breathing. Peaking around the door again after feeling mildly confident that the glittering wouldn’t kill him, he noted that it was just the tip of a spear. Then he had to look again to make sure. And yes, it was the tip of a spear. Next to it, a leathered shield with its emblem facing down and a red helmet facing his and Benji's direction. The red wasn’t paint.

All three items lying in a small pool of red, practically brown and sunken into the ground. But Rick knew, he knew what it was. He gulped, turned his head to look around a few times, then felt mildly confident that the monster wouldn’t jump out of nowhere and attack him. So he took his first steps outside, quickly followed by Benji, grabbing a hold of Rick’s pants from behind, looking around him and widening his eyes as he saw the three glittering items. Eyes like a cat after seeing prey, immediately going tighter as they noticed the red, face contorting as his mind slowly realized what the red meant.

Rick held a hand on top of Benji head, patting him. Then walked towards the three items, then past them, then far, far away from them, walking in the direction of the village center. Benji kept his arms wrapped around Rick's leg, also around the knight which was also around Rick’s leg, holding back tears as he burrowed his face into the same leg.

The four of them, Bob included tuckered in in Rick’s chest pocket, walked the two-hour-long journey towards the village center. A journey that felt a lot longer as the two kept casting fast, quick and sharp glances at the forest to their side, like birds looking around for predators, like flies looking out for the swatter, like tired adventurers after an ambush.

Eventually the duo, plus two, made it into the village proper, sights of distant guards like the most beautiful flower. Sights Rick usually abhorred, was now like the sweetest nectar, like candy after starving, a thing he wished more people could taste.

Rick took a step forward, then suddenly collapsed, Benji shouting out in surprise, the two falling back on a sturdy wooden wall, a soft thump as they slowly glided down to the ground. Rick breathed out, a weight heavier than a mountain leaving with it, released from his mind.

He turned to look down on Benji, surprised at how dirty, disheveled and snotty he was, Benji staring back at him with frightful eyes. Rick patted his head, cleaned his face with his shirtsleeve, and fixed his hair. Benji shouldn’t look like that, he was a bright boy. Benji seemed to find comfort in Rick fixing him up, leaning his little body onto Rick’s stomach, like a son sitting on his father's lap, patted by the father as if the terrifying night was just a distant, unpleasant memory.

The two staying in the moment. Benji closing his eyes, safe and content, dozing off completely. Rick staring out and down, seeing the knight patrolling in front of the two, as if guarding the most wealthy of merchants. Bob jumped down from Rick’s pocket, joining the knight, walking more like a toddler trying to walk for her first time. It was pleasant for the tired Rick to stare at. Mind wandering elsewhere, but at the same time, being nowhere. He didn’t so much as think, as he just let thoughts float. He felt too tired to really think, to awake to really sleep, too much information to let himself sleep. Instead, he stared, he sat, he waited and collected himself.

A short period that he needed. A short period he felt comforted in.

A short period turning long, people walking past before Rick had even noticed. He looked up to see many people casting suspicious glances at him. But Rick didn’t stand, instead he felt his mind jolt awake, realizing his, and Benji’s, predicament, knowing they needed help. And as he thought that thought, he remembered the soldiers, remembered their reason for being here. Immediately feeling adrenaline pumping again, for Rick was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He needed the soldiers to kill the monster and keep them safe. But on the other hand, the soldier could just as likely capture Rick instead and leave the village to its fate, leaving Benji alone to die.

No, no, Rick couldn’t do that. Not now that he knew what he knew. He shivered at the thought he had yesterday, that he had even considered leaving Benji, that he would have done it too, leaving him for dead. No, that couldn’t stand, and he knew that it would gnaw at his mind forever, knowing that he would have left a child if it meant his own safety. He was a horrible human, terrible human. No, Rick would do whatever he needed right now to keep Benji safe, both for him, and himself, at least until Sigurd came.

Sigurd. The name brought back sudden and deep realization. Sigurd had left for work, and she said she would be back in a couple of days. It had now been about a week, she could be back any day now, any hour, any minute. And when she came back, she’d be at home, a home that was wrecked by a monster, a monster sure to come back. Rick gulped, doing his best to push down the sudden rock in his heart.

No, no, it would be okay. When Sigurd comes, she’ll see the ruined door, she’ll head straight for the village center, she’ll find us here, and then I can leave. Yes, it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It, will, be, okay.

But will it?

He couldn’t escape the thought. What if. He couldn’t escape the what if’s. What if she came back, and the monster was waiting for her? What if she came back and immediately started searching the woods? What if she was attacked on the road to the village center? All the what if’s like an anvil on both Rick’s heart and mind.

But what could he do? What could Rick do? He wasn’t a savior; He wasn’t a warrior; He wasn’t a soldier-

But he knew some, and Rick realised he knew someone who could tell them what they'd seen. Turning his head up, he scanned his surroundings, immediately seeing what he searched for. Then he looked down on Benji and shook him awake, boy waking like a dwarf after a night of heavy drinking, like an elf after a short nap. He looked around groggily, doing his best to focus, slowly seeing Rick gesturing wildly at him.

At first, Benji panicked, but slowly calmed as even the knight, and the uglier, but cute, statue gestured with him. The trio doing some weird dance, something that made him laugh at how silly it looked. A dance that slowly but surely, after a long long time, made sense to Benji. A dance that simply meant “tell guards you saw a monster”. Something that made Benji gulp big, feeling small, and reach for mister knight.

Rick looked on with his own big eyes, waiting for a response, a response that didn’t come. Rick felt heavy. He knew Benji to be shy, but sometimes times required one to push oneself, to push oneself into uncomfortable situations. Hel, Rick knew the boy had been through worse. Yet, no matter how much he gestured, gestures of pleading, gestures of begging, the boy didn’t budge.

The boy looked down shamefully instead, the ground weirdly interesting for him, like a dog after getting yelled at. It took time, but eventually, the one who managed to penetrate Benji’s weirdly unpenetrable wall of shyness, was Bob. Wobbling up to him, forcing Benji to look at him as he placed himself in between Benji and the ground he was staring at. Then Bob took one of his arms, the bigger one, and slowly caressed Benji’s hand, the hand holding the knight. The knight quickly picked up on what Bob was doing, patting him too, the two statues smiling brightly, like stars guiding the way. Seemingly enough for Benji, as his expression turned very serious, very astute, very soldier like, speaking with gravitas in his voice as he said.

“I’ll do it.”

Rick nodded furiously, smiling inwardly, giving Benji a big thumbs up. Benji nodded with equivalent fervor, Rick imitating to urge Benji on, the two looking like hens on a farm. But eventually, the two stopped and the trio consistent of the knight, Benji and weirdly enough Bob, moved towards the soldiers. Rick following behind, mind set on hiding behind a building once Benji was close enough to talk, Rick couldn’t risk himself getting caught, not now that he had a plan.

Benji often turned around, searching for Rick, looking for support, breathing up and down, his chest like a body deflating and inflating. Each time Benji turned around, Rick gave him a big thumbs up, even attempting a smile, a smile that made Benji smile back, even if it was more for how stupid Rick looked, at least a smile successful in calming Benji, even if it was forced.

Once Benji was close enough that the soldiers didn’t have a chance of not spotting him, Rick ducked away and hid behind a nearby house, listening for Benji’s explanation. Waiting for him to start speaking, waiting for-

“Hey kid, where did you get those toys?”

A deep bassy tone echoed out, sounding soft and gentle, like someone trying to comfort a cat. Rick waited for Benji’s response, feeling his heart thumping in his chest, not ready to be caught this quick, not ready for his plan to falter like planks stacked in front of each other. Yet Benji didn’t respond, instead, the same man spoke up.

“You lost maybe? Did you find these somewhere? Did someone give them to you?”

Even more gentle than before, still just as intrusive, as suspicious. He may sound gentle, but that didn’t fool Rick, no. He knew many soldiers, few being actually pleasant. The questions asked by the soldier being more of a giveaway of his personality than the way he spoke. Though Rick assumed, hoped, no, wished that this village didn’t treat children like adults. For he couldn’t be the one speaking for rather obvious reasons. Hoped that they would treat Benji with kindness and respect.

Then he heard a sniffle, and Rick practically bolted around the house to see what was happening, body moving on its own, like a mind going against Rick’s will. Upon turning the corner, he spotted four soldiers, one kneeling, three standing, two further away moving to see what was going on. In front of them stood Benji, holding back tears that threatened to swell up. He had turned around, facing away from the scary soldiers, and as soon as Rick had turned the corner, his eyes fixated on him instead, like a fish spotting a lure full of worm, of tasties. And Rick knew immediately that his plan had failed, for he saw in Benji’s eyes, a fear that rivaled that of himself seeing a monster.

“Is he the one who made your toys?”

The kneeling guard asked, hair full of flaming orange, beard the same colour, eyes bright blue with muscles that threatened to tear open the very armour he was wearing. Rick stared at him, feeling inadequate, feeling threatened, but turned his vision down on Benji as he noted him starting to move towards himself. Rick gestured quickly, gestured for Benji to stop, not fully realizing the stupidity of what he just did. The bright orange soldier's eyes widening, Ricks own widening, turning around as he realised what he had done, and ran.

Rick cursed himself. How could he be so foolish, of course the soldiers knew, of course he had to do that, of course they had been told about him. Why did he do that? The thought going through his head multiple times as he raced down the many buildings, turning corners and running almost blindly. Luckily for Rick, Benji had liked these places, showed them when they toured the sights. Rick feeling his legs pushing like mad, quickly taking him onto the wide road, casting a glance back, not spotting a soldier, still running.

His plan had failed even before it had started. Why had he pushed Benji to do something he didn’t want too? Why had he let him take the toys? Why had he gestured Benji to stay? So many why’s, so little know’s. Rick cursed himself, cursed himself for being so stupid, for being so cowardly, for being so weak.

He kept running, running down the main road, down towards Sigurd’s house, guided by feet, not head. Once he realized where he was heading, he stopped, a bad move as his body collapsed, reminding him of the long day of no sleep, of fatigue, of exhaustion.

Down on the ground, he gasped for air, taking big gulps like a starving man eating food, like a parched man drinking water. His mind collecting itself, letting himself think logically, stopping himself from kicking himself mentally as he was already down. He told himself that it would be okay. Benji was with the soldiers now, the orange one seemed nice, he doubted they would just abandon a child. They wouldn’t, or rather, they couldn’t, they would keep him safe.

Sigurd. The name flashed in his mind, Rick remembered. He stared down on the ground, breathing calmed, still heavy, the weight having come back, even if his physical body didn’t feel it. What could he do, what should he do, what was he supposed to do? If Sigurd died, Benji would be alone. Rick couldn’t take care of him, not now that he was wanted. Rick ran the three thoughts through his head, even finding himself begging the gods for help, to any god for help. Even if he knew, deep down inside, that it didn’t matter. No matter how much Rick had prayed throughout his life, no matter how much he had offered as tribute, no matter how much he offered to help the various gods, he had never been helped in return.

Thinking about gods made Rick remember, remember the one truth he had always lived with. Rick was a master of his own life, of his own decisions, of his own body. The gods couldn’t guide him here, the soldiers wouldn’t help him here, the monster wouldn’t stop being monsters. These were things Rick couldn’t change. What he could change, was what he did do himself, and he knew what he could do, he knew his body and his own talents very well.

With those thoughts, the weight on his heart eased, not gone. Though his heart pumped blood a little faster, a little stronger, mind clearer than before. It wasn’t gone, the weight was still there and he had still much to do, but now he had a task, a purpose, a reason. A reason to fight. He knew what he wanted to do, had to do.