Beautiful words of hope and freedom drift on winds of promises given but never received.  As a red sunset stains dark flowers into the likeness of drops of blood, that same wind dies a quiet death. 

            Driven by the fear of further torture, a young boy runs raggedly on feet torn by rocks, burning coals and the viciousness of the human soul. His breath, though hastened in panic, is even, not strained by his exertions, and his easy stride, though tinged with the pain of his burning feet, is measured and covers a good distance in fast time. Behind him, lights flash through the closely interlocked trunks and limbs of the pine forest, reflecting off the nighttime fog that hung low amidst the trees.

            Reaching the edge of the forest, Ralflanz peered around, searching the darkness for any sign of an ambush. Sensing none, he dashed out, ignoring the pain in his feet and putting all of his energy into trying to reach his cave, his sanctuary, before the older squires found him. Overhead, a circling raven crowed raucously in the deepening night, making Ralflanz nearly jump out of his skin as he raced across the meadow that on the other end held his cave.

            When he finally reached it, he hurriedly dove through the concealing bushes that guarded the entrance, in much the same way as the first time he found the place, only this time his descent was more controlled, and he was careful not to hit his head, instead landing on his feet. Once he hit the bottom, he took off at a run, surefooted in the darkness from long years of hiding in this forsaken hellhole. Finally he slowed to a walk, then stopped completely to catch his breath, listening intently for any more sounds of pursuit.  Panting, Ralflanz closed his eyes and slid down the wall he had been leaning against so he was sitting cross-legged on the stone floor, quietly he allowed the silence to seep through him as night creatures went back to their normal rounds outside.

            When morning came, he boldly stepped outside, for more long experience had shown that his bullies would never attack him during the day, even in a place like this, since it was known that the mages of Anloran guarded the territory surrounding their Vale, and would investigate any disturbance, even such a small one as a person being beaten. Breathing in the fresh morning air, Ralflanz rubbed at his sleep blurred eyes and adjusted his tunic so it didn't look like he had slept on a cold stone floor, then set off towards the main hold.

            Upon arrival, he was met by one of his Master's pages who gave him a message that Sir Raenolds wished to see him immediately when he arrived.    Thanking the boy, Ralflanz stopped by his room briefly to change into his leather tunic and make himself at least a bit more presentable. After leaving a tip for the page that had cleaned his room up, Ralflanz closed and locked his door behind him then set off at an easy lope towards the east tower of the hold, where he was reasonably sure his master would be at this time in the morning. 

            As he passed through the main courtyard, he noticed that two men had be hanged, ducking his head, he whispered a quick prayer, but when he looked back up at the figures, his breath caught in his throat. Oh gods They weren't men, but boys just a bit older then himself, and their faces had haunted him for countless years.  It was Geofrey and Kaden, the oldest of the group of tramps that liked to bully him, and though he had wished countless times as they beat him senseless, he never would have wished this on them. So rapt was his attention, he nearly jumped out of his skin when her felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.

"Easy lad, I know it's a shock, but they were a thieving lot, and they crossed the line when they raped a girl." The soft voice of his mentor said gently as he removed his hand. Still shocked, Ralflanz turned and bowed meekly and when the formal greetings were over, just stared from his mentor then back to the hanging boys. His master sighed and patted Ralflanz's shoulder again, "and Zi, don't think I don't know what they did to you either, but they came from powerful families, and it took your latest escape to push them over the edge to true violence. I only hope that poor girl can recover" Sir Raenolds voice trailed off sadly and he turned away from the sight. "Come with me Zi, we need to go over some chivalry."

<* ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * >

            Time passed slowly for both master and pupil, and Zi found his nights somewhat empty now that his tormentors were dead and the rest of their cronies had abandoned the chase, and to be truthful, he almost missed the daily run through the woods to keep ahead of certain death.

            Sighing, Ralflanz flipped the covers off his body and sat up, head in hands, as he regarded the piles of papers, scrolls, and books that littered his desk through half opened eyes.  Coming to a decision, Zi climbed to his feet and lit one of the many candles in his room, then plopped down heavily in his padded chair and opened one of the books, one on horse training, and started to read, quietly absorbing the information.