The Scarecrow and the Inferno

Orrenvale days always begin noisily. Busy. Women are accompanied by their husbands, or their brothers, or perhaps sisters or cousins. The children hold tightly onto their mothers’ hands, never daring to let go and lose them in the crowd of hundreds. Fathers are the working ones, doing whatever it takes to make ends meet. Sell whatever they can. However, my Father cannot be one of them.

My name is Shawth Wynfir. My Father was Sean Wynfir, and a few years ago, he suffered from leg pain. So, my Mother entrusted me with our farm market. She and my younger siblings would work tirelessly on the farm, while I sold what they were able to harvest.

“Quit running so fast, Ragnar!” A voice exclaims. They disappear into the crowd, along with the girl who was calling after him and struggling to keep up to match his pace.

I wonder what that was all about. I pray that nothing terrible will happen to them. Orrenvale can be dangerous.

“Fifteen…Sixteen…” I mutter softly, counting the shillings in my head. “Thirty-seven.”

I sigh softly and jog back home. I walk up the steps to the door and open it. I unlocked the door and shut it behind me. Tiny footsteps shuffle behind me as I smirk.

“Caught you!” I laugh, shaking my siblings in my arms. They burst into laughter.

“Put us down, Shawth!” They exclaim.

I laugh softly, but do as they ask. But they wrap their arms around my legs, giggling nonstop. I make my way into the kitchen, hoping to find Mother in there. The pair still clings to my legs, though.

…

“Hello,” a voice greets. “Um…I’ll have your finest fruits, please?”

I drop the wooden crate of harvests and look at my customer. The newcomer who was running so fast the other day.

“The finest of my fruits, huh?” I chuckle and gesture to the fruits. “They’re all fine. Though I do recommend apples.”

I grab a red apple and toss it in the air. I throw it at him, and he catches it quickly, smiling. I grin too, scratching the back of my head. He chews thoughtfully as his eyes widen in surprise.

“It’s delicious!”

I laugh softly. “What’s your name? I’m Shawth. Shawth Wynfir.”

He extends his arm, and I shake it lightly. “I’m Ragnar,” he smiles. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Shawth. Your market must be the busiest since you have such delicious produce.”

I shake my head sadly. “Unfortunately not,” I sigh. “My market is easily forgettable.”

Ragnar’s red-brown eyes widened. He looks down at the crates full of fresh produce. It was the truth. I am described as forgettable, only a mere shadow.

“Well, consider me the first stranger to remember you,” he smiles. I blink twice, unsure if he was speaking the truth.

“Let me bag your produce, Ragnar,” I quickly said, grabbing a basket. I hand him his basket of fruits, and the jet-black-haired boy smiles, then disappears into the crowd.

“Consider me the first stranger to remember you.”

…

Ragnar wraps his arms around his legs, bumping my shoulder with his. Ragnar always told me he wanted to leave this town behind and sail out to find adventure. It made me wish I could be just as brave as Ragnar. He must take it from one of his parents, whom he rarely told me about. I knew his sick mother, but it felt like he was a stranger. I’d never really know him, the same way he knew me.

“What was your life like before you came here, Ragnar?” I ask unintentionally.

The ravenette turns his head and meets my eyes. His red-brown eyes slightly widen, but his lips part as a response escapes his throat.

“I-I don’t know,” he mumbles, twirling his bangs between his thumb and index finger.

I tilt my head slightly to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the moment I was able to walk, my family was already living over there,” he explains, pointing at a distant hut sitting on a hill, far from Orrenvale.

That hut’s lights were always on inside, so the fishermen and sailors would often use the blurry light as their guide back to the harbour.

I stood up and patted Ragnar’s shoulder, a gesture that meant I’d have to go home. It was only the sun’s sixth stroke, but Mother wanted me to return home early today. I ran back home, unlocking the door. I shut it behind me and jog into the kitchen, but when I walk inside, my parents are waiting.

Sitting across from them was…King Grym from the neighbouring kingdom, Kharathis.

“M-Mother?” I stammer, cowering behind the doorframe. “Why is the King here?”

…

“You must stay away from your friend, Ragnar,” he says, narrowing his cold eyes at me. The King stands up and approaches the door.

I turn around quickly, my right brow still raised. King Grym clicks his tongue as he grabs the handle, then looks back at me.

“Ragnar Dasterian…is not who you think he is. Whatever he told you, they are all lies. For your own safety–and your family’s–stay away from the…monster. I’ll have my soldiers collect him during the sun’s eleventh stroke.”

My fingers curl into tight fists, but my Mother clasps her hands on mine.

“That’s enough, Shawth,” she whispers. “Obey the King’s orders.”

I pull away from her grip. “Ragnar isn’t a monster, though, Mother. He’s the most kind-hearted human being I know. If he were to hurt someone, that wouldn’t even be possible–”

“Just how well do you know this Dasterian fellow?” Father asks suddenly, grabbing his cane and standing up from his seat. “From what I see, you know nothing about this boy.”

Say that one more time, old man. I won’t be as forgiving.

My body reacts on its own. The next thing I knew, my grip was on the front area of my Father’s tunic. Mother’s eyes widen as my Father grabs my wrist.

“Since when did you care about me and my life, old man?!” I shout, my veins popping out of my fists. “I’m the one who spent time with Ragnar; I’m the one who knows whether or not he’s a monster!”

“Shawth, let go!” Mother cries, grabbing my shoulder.

At the corner of my eye, I see Pallius and Emeryn cowering behind the door, watching my every action carefully. I grit my teeth in frustration. Thunder bangs against the sky as rain softly patters against the window. I blindly tighten my grip, but suddenly, Ragnar appears before my eyes.

Flashback

“You’re a good person, Shawth,” Ragnar smiles, pounding his fist against my chest.

We were sitting together on the pier, watching the golden orb disappear into the horizon. Ragnar swings his legs back and forth, slightly kicking the water. I tilt my head to the side.

“How come?” I ask. “Is it because I became your first friend?” I tease, sticking my tongue out playfully.

Ragnar’s lips stretch upwards as a laugh escapes his throat. “Maybe, but you’re always so friendly to your customers. It’s different from how the other vendors act towards their customers. Maybe it’s because you’re always so hard on yourself.”

I wrap my arms around my legs, bringing my knees to my chest. “Am I? Well, I am told often I’m forgetful–”

“Don’t listen to whoever said that,” Ragnar interjects, meeting my eyes. “They’re just envious of you. You’re not forgetful at all, Shawth.

“You’re…a really thoughtful person, you know that?”

End of Flashback

My breathing grows uncontrollably, but somehow, I let go of my Father. Mother sighs in relief and turns to my old man, but he strikes me across the cheek, causing me to stumble backwards. Mother cries in surprise, but my Father ignores her. He grumbles under his breath and walks into his room, slamming the door loudly.

I lean against the dining table, inhaling sharply. My hand flies to the cheek my Father slapped. I just hope it didn’t stand out.

The following day, King Grym announced that he wanted to make peace with the other royals living behind the wall, in the enchanted forest. Ragnar and I were discussing Despina, and I decided to leave a clue. Because I feared the king was lying about peace-making. And Ragnar’s life was in danger.

“Take good care, my friend,” I said, handing him his basket. “The streets are crawling with King Grym’s soldiers.”

The jet-black-haired boy bites into an apple. “How come?” He asks, causing me to wonder if I should continue. I explained to him about the creatures living behind the wall that divided the humans and the entities. Somehow, they managed to blend in and hide among the humans. King Grym discovered this and claimed he wanted to make peace. My response causes the young boy to jog away from my market.

“Why are you in such a rush, my friend?” I call after him, playing dumb.

He looks back to respond, but a hooded figure crashes into him. I watched the scene silently as more soldiers appeared. They weren’t here for Ragnar. The stranger’s hood falls, revealing his draconic horns. They stare at each other until the darker-haired boy grabs the humanoid dragon’s wrist and disappears into the crowd. The soldiers chase after them, and that was the last time I’d seen Ragnar.

I hope my warning came through to him.

I close my market and decide to head back home to my family. I don’t know if I’ll ever see Ragnar again, but if I do, then I’ll run away with him.

Thirteen years later

It’s been thirteen years since I last saw young Ragnar. I prayed that he was safe, but it didn’t ease my worries. I told myself each day, he’ll come back from wherever he was. I’d even set aside his usual, just in case he really did return.

I shake my head, sighing softly. Ragnar will be coming back. Then I’ll tell him I’m sorry for lying to him. I’ll apologize each day, repeatedly, until he forgives me.

Though I don’t expect him to.

I pull the wagon full of produce behind me, my head hanging low. Until a scream suddenly breaks the heavy silence in my mind. The crowd was running in panic, pushing each other and running into their homes. Others ran out of their houses, grabbing their children or their essentials. I grab a sobbing woman who attempts to pull away from my grip.

“What’s going on?” I demand, shouting above the loud noise.

“The soldiers!” She cries. “Kharathis soldiers are attacking us–”

A man grabs the woman’s arm, pulling her closer to him as they flee from me.

I turn around, and Kharathis' soldiers lit their torches and struck the evacuating people with their swords. Blood painted their shiny, silver armour red.

I run through the shuffling crowd. I had to get to my family. They’re the only people I have left. I stop short when I find my home burning away.

“Pallius! Emeryn!” I scream, running towards the burning home.

I knock down the door with the strength of my body and look around for anyone. A loud groan responds to me, but no one else answers. I shake my head, not daring to accept my family’s deaths.

“Mother! Pallius!” I shout. I exclaim in surprise when the ceiling breaks, the wood falling apart and nearly crashing onto me. “Emeryn!”

The smoke was too much for my lungs to handle. I run towards the window and break through. My face meets the ground, and I’m knocked out.

…

My eyes snap open as I exclaim in shock. I was against a wall. I turned around, and the flames devouring my house were extinguished. I look up at my Saviour, but it causes my heart to pound harder against my chest. Even though his hair and eye colours changed, my heart knew who this man was.

Ragnar.

My smile falters for a second when I find two large grey horns with cracks of red spiralling back from his temple. Inside his mouth were sharp teeth, instead of regular human ones. What happened to Ragnar during those lost thirteen years? What did King Grym do to Ragnar for him to look so…draconic?

“R-Ragnar?” I gasp, looking down at his burnt clothes. “Wh-What happened to you?”

The crimson-haired boy tilts his head in confusion. “I-I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

My heart stops pounding as the world grows silent. The sky darkens as the thunder rumbles behind the clouds. The sky begins to cry, causing mine and Ragnar’s hair to grow wet. I couldn’t believe this. Ragnar…doesn’t remember. Thirteen years is long, but I didn’t expect him to forget about me.

“Consider me the first stranger to remember you.”

“You’re a good person, Shawth.”

“You’re…a really thoughtful person, you know that?”

Even though he said all that to me, Ragnar’s staring at me as if this is our first meeting.

I shake my head in response. “No. I must’ve mistaken you for someone else.”

Ragnar stands up. “You must get to safety now, sir. It’s dangerous to stay here.”

Before I can ask why, he stares into my eyes. Those familiar red-brown eyes were now bright red. “Evacuate with your family.”

I clutch my pants tightly, using all my strength to fight back the tears. “Yes, sir.”

And that’s when I knew it. I was only a scarecrow who was forgotten.