To Sing the Tortured to Sleep

XII. The Naming Ceremony (Kain's POV)

The week had passed rather eventless. There hadn’t been a single attack, to my surprise, and we were scheduled to reach the town of Mannix this morning. Raven and Angel were pretty optimistic but I had to be prepared for the worst. If there hadn't been an attack thus far, would there be an ambush later? Our safety was never certain and we had to take extra precautions to ensure that Angel would be safe.

We'd bought cloaks from one of the stores back home to disguise us as common travelers rather than royalty. Cloaks were common, so hopefully we would be safe.

The smell of charred wood was overwhelming as we ventured into the large clearing that had once been Mannix.

"What happened?" Raven asked in horror, a dagger zipping past her head a second later, taking nothing but a strand of hair with it.

That was when the attack started. Dozens of masked men fell from the trees, cornering us in. It seemed hopeless at first. There was no way I'd be able to defend all three of us with one sword.

I was separated from Angel instantly. The masked men put up a tough front and I was having a difficult time defeating any of them. In fact, they didn’t even try to injure me. They were only delaying me and they weren’t even breaking a sweat!

“Kain!” The soft voice sounded even more childish than it had before, as if it was regressing back to the child’s voice I had heard all of those years ago. Angel was being kidnapped right before my eyes, three sets of gloved hands were wrestling to hold her still as they sunk back into the forest. I grew angry, I couldn’t lose Angel. This entire trip would be worthless if I lost her.

I lost control of my anger, slashing my sword in any direction that seemed fit to free me of the surrounding masked men. When I saw a clearing, I ran towards Angel and surprisingly, the men began to flee, releasing Angel and escaping back into the forest. It was then that I heard the cries of dozens of townsfolk, undoubtedly survivors of the fire in Mannix. At the sight of so many men the attackers fled, just as they had the week before at Madame Galloway’s shop. It seemed they were never prepared for a real fight.

As soon as I reached Angel I wrapped my arms around her. She was shaking like a leaf, but she had good reason. Hell, she’d been three seconds away from being made into human stew by a bunch of strangers. I, her only protector, had let her down. I hadn’t been strong enough to ward off the evil that haunted her and I felt deeply ashamed of that.

“I’m sorry Angel, are you alright?” I asked, trying to offer any comfort I could to the poor frightened girl.

Angel didn’t offer any response. She sunk her face into my chest and held to me, trying to get rid of the fleeting image of masked men that had attacked her not once, but twice.

Raven didn’t seem phased by the attack and was already speaking to the townsfolk who had rescued us.

“Angel, I promise this will never happen again. I will never leave your side. You’re going to be safe with me from now on. Do you understand?” I asked, and she gave a small nod into my chest. I could tell she was trying her best to forget what had happened. I could imagine it was tough, considering she didn’t have too many other memories to replace the attackers with.

Once Angel was finally calm we joined Raven and began speaking to the townspeople who, almost immediately, asked us why we’d come to visit Mannix. They recognized us as royalty of the Pylanian Kingdom, although the town of Mannix didn’t reside in either Argane or Pylane and were a generally neutral town. Still, we were royalty and they treated us with the respect we didn’t deserve.

“We’re looking for Elliot and Linda Richardson,” I explained and the townsfolk seemed reluctant to give up the two citizens, afraid that they had done something wrong and were being jailed for it.

“I swear to you that we are here for nothing but peace. We aren’t here for trouble. We need help,” I further explained and the two parents I was looking for finally took a step forward from behind the crowd. They greeted me with gentle smiles. We’d never spoken much, although I’d been best friends with their daughter. They knew of me, but not anything firsthand. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you know where Isabelle has gone?” I began, swallowing a lump in my throat, “It’s been years, I know. I’ve been trying to locate you the entire time with no results until now.”

The parents gave no response, although there was a flashing look of grief on their faces.

“I’m sure you know that I haven’t seen her in almost a decade, but it’s important that I speak with her.”

Finally, Elliot Richardson had something to say, “Son, Isabelle has been dead for the better part of five years.”

I took a step back, I couldn’t believe what he had to say. I didn’t want to believe that she was dead, because that left no explanation for the shocking coincidence and similarities between Angel and Isabelle. If Angel wasn’t Isa, who was she? Angel was starting to feel like more of a stranger than ever.

“She joined the Arganian Medical Force and was killed nursing a soldier.”

In my frustration I took Angel’s arm and rather roughly pulled her to my side and then in front of me, so that Isa’s parents had a better look of her. “You’re wrong, Isa isn’t dead. I’ve found her!” I insisted.

The Richardsons took a step closer to Angel, causing her to shrink back into my arms, although she remained facing her family. At first they were outraged, after all they would know if their own daughter was dead, wouldn’t they? Then, a look of vague recognition washed over them. “Is this really...?” Isa’s mother asked, trailing off, overwhelmed in tears.

“I believe so. I can’t be completely certain. She’s lost her memory but almost everything I’ve managed to get out of her screams Isabelle,” I explained and Isa’s mother nodded, as if she understood what I meant.

“Baby, you’re all grown up!” Isa’s mother cried, pulling Angel into her arms. At first Linda had been a bit reluctant to even look at Angel, but now she was certain that this was her little girl. She would recognize her anywhere.

Angel seemed confused, but played along for now. “Why didn’t you come back to us?”

"Linda, she’s lost her memory. She doesn’t even know her name, how old she is, who her family is, or where she belongs. We’ve been trying to figure it all out, but so far every time we get a hint team tall dark and scary give us a run for our money,” I explained, turning to Angel once she was out of her mother’s arms, “Angel, we are fairly certain we’ve found your family. Do you recognize them at all?”

“I don’t remember who they are, but I remember them,” Angel murmured, her voice soft and quiet as she slowly became aware of the many eyes of townspeople that were pointed in her direction.

“This is Linda Richardson, your mother,” I introduced, gesturing to the woman who had just given Angel a hug. Then, I gestured to her father, “This is Elliot Richardson, your father.”

“How can you be certain?” Angel asked, afraid to grow attached to her new found home, in case I was somehow wrong.

“At first I wasn’t certain. You remind me of Isabelle though, Raven agrees,” I pointed out, “Then there was the butterfly book. I had it ordered specifically for Isa, there was never one made like it, and you said you recognized it,” I continued, “Then, you turned to Isa’s favorite page, and pointed out that it was your favorite. You even pointed out the shape of the butterflies wings, just as Isa used to.”

“You’re sure these aren’t just coincidences?” Angel questioned.

“I would have excused them all as coincidences, had I not seen the look on Linda’s face when she saw you,” I pointed out, one hundred percent positive of my accuracy at this point.

“These are your parents, and your real name is Isabelle Richardson.”