Since Birth

Epilogue

Balinor loved the outside world, dare he'd admit it. His parents were defiant in this specific topic, but so was he. The teen understood that he had magic—a gift that had to be protected and kept safe. But Balinor didn't understand his parent's actions concerning this. His magic was to be protected, not locked away.

The boy ducked under another branch, leaping closer to the echoes he heard from afar. Screams of pain, shouts of joy, he didn't know. But what he did know is that this sound—this voice—wasn't of an animal. It wasn't a deer, wasn't a bird, definitely not a cricket, but rather something he could connect to deeper. A human.

Balinor inhaled once. Twice. The noises were getting closer. Ducking behind a bush, he edged closer, finally taking in several silhouettes.

"Another one, eh?"

Balinor raised his head, eying the objects in the foreigner's hand. Not only were two rabbits in the grasp of this man's hands, but so was a human. Just a teen, a little younger than Balinor. The brunet stared to the gang of men in curiosity. What were the elders doing with the man? Or was it prisoner?

A couple of minutes passed as the men stood static. Eventually, however, one of the men spoke. "We gonna cook this?"

"Yeah," the other man replied, sniffing absentmindedly. "I saw a bunch of logs a little while back, we could go look for some firewood there. Maybe there are some more rabbits there as well."

The latter nodded, surveying the area. Balinor quickly ducked, but luckily he was safe from gazing eyes.

"What about the boy?"

"Leave him. It's not like he can run anywhere anyway." A kick came to the prisoner's thigh. The boy hissed, managing to weakly spit as a retort in offender's direction. The older man chuckled. "A feisty one, eh?"

"Let's just hurry up and get the wood. Shouldn't give this lad more time than needed alone, right boy?" The prisoner was silent. After a scoff, the man clapped his friend's back, and they retreated to collect supplies.

As the two walked away, the young male sat rested against a tree, eyes emotionless. Balinor took this moment to leap forward. He swept past several bushes, edging behind a tree before receiving a closer look at the foreigner. The man's eyes spoke of deadness, but his hands said otherwise, for they were in balled fists, almost as if he was ready to put up a fight.

Balinor let his back lean against a tree, as he contemplated on greeting this stranger. Glancing once to the sky, his eyes then traveled to his boot where he slipped out his dagger. Balinor bit his lip, eyeing the possible threat once more, before giving a huff. Better to be safe than sorry. Turning around, his eyes widened as he took note of the man already staring at him. His father had given him the same look before: one of angry confusion.

Balinor's lips moved, but only air managed to escape. He had never encountered another human besides his family before. This was unmarked territory, and it made Balinor scared.

"Come to taunt me more?"

"More?" Balinor croaked out.

"I supposed you were with them."

The older man shook his head quickly, surveying the area around him before he returned to the prisoner. "Why are you tied up?"
All the other teen did was huff, not saying a word. Balinor didn't know if he should cut him free. What if he was a bad person—a killer? But then his mind changed tune, as he wondered if the man was good. A person that had persecuted and locked up. A person that had magic. "If I cut you free..." And as he started, the man's eyes darted up, hands that were once balled in fury we're now grasping the grass underneath him for a sense of reality.