Thief of Hearts

Evan\'s eyes fluttered open in the glaring morning sun. He sat up, with no mercy from the bruises that covered his body. He rubbed his eyes wearily, trying to forget the horrible things that had happened to him the night before, and started to get dressed.

His hand fell on the tunic closest to him. Evan pulled it over his head, thinking nothing of it until he saw his reflection in the mirror; the tunic had been his father\'s. His real father\'s, not the man who had adopted him. Evan ran his hands along the shirt thoughtfully, remembering the day his parents died. It was something he thought of very often now. He could still see his father strapping down the last of his wares for a quick trip through Kaveu to Swela. His mother climbed up into the seat next to him.

\"What about the boy?\" Evan\'s father asked softly, not wanting his son to hear.

\"He\'s old enough to watch himself,\" Terra replied calmly, \"We won\'t be gone for more than a few weeks. Honestly, Nairris, you\'d think I\'d be the overprotective one, not the other way around.\" Nairris nodded.

\"Well, I suppose you\'re right.\" Narris turned to look Evan in the eye. \"Watch the store while we\'re away, Evan. Think you can manage?\" Evan nodded, smiling excitedly. \"Good.\"

\"We\'ll be back in a few weeks.\" Terra added, \"I\'ll bring you back some of that pie you like.\"

\"I\'m looking forward to it, mom.\" Evan replied. With a slap of the reins, Evan\'s parents were off, with Evan waving goodbye to them merrily. That was the last time they were seen alive.

Halfway to Kaveu, marauders attacked Evan\'s parents. They were brutally murdered, and their goods were stolen. Evan sold his parents\' store soon after he received the news. He couldn\'t bare to look at the shop any more. Mortin the baker took Evan as an apprentice about the same time. That had been four years ago, when Evan was on the verge of his thirteenth birthday.

Even snapped out of his reverie, and continued getting dressed very slowly. He had no desire to go outside and face Mortin. It was that bulky, bristly man\'s fault that Evan was black and blue all over. Evan could still feel Mortin\'s clammy hands roaming his body from the night before, touching him in places that Evan did not want to be touched. He shuddered as the brutal events from the previous night began to resurface.

A harsh rapping on the door made Evan stop dead in his movements. He was just about to put on his shoes when the obtrusive noise invaded the room.

\"What\'s taking you so long in there?\" A boisterous voice demanded. \"I\'m not training you to sleep in!\" Evan finished putting on his shoes and opened the door to glare down at Mortin. The burly man was a good three inches shorter than him, but strong enough to pull him down to his level with ease.

\"What have you got to say for yourself?\" Mortin demanded. Evan resisted the urge to spit on the pig-like face he was staring into.

\"It won\'t happen again,\" Evan replied coldly, hatred dripping from every word that escaped his lips (he had learned to survive by loathing Mortin), \"Now let me go so I can get to work.\"

\"Oh, someone\'s a bit cranky this morning!\" Mortin exclaimed, releasing the younger man. Evan recognized the scheming look in the older man\'s eye, and knew better than to push his luck. He chose to go downstairs, doing his best not to touch the vile man as he exited his room. Managing to get downstairs without any more trouble, Evan was very much relieved to see Mortin\'s wife, Darori. So long as she was around, the baker would behave himself. As soon as Mortin was out of sight, Evan approached her.

\"Darori, may I speak with you?\" Evan began, pulling his boss\'s wife gently to a place where they would not be overheard. Mortin, however, was sharp as ever.

\"Darori, where are you, love?\" Mortin called out. His wife smiled apologetically at Evan.

\"I\'m sorry, dear. It\'ll only take a minute, I\'m sure.\" Darori assured him. Evan nodded, and scoffed the moment she left.

\'A minute, sure.\' Evan thought callously, He always does that. \'I\'m going to have to escape him someway other than telling Darori what he\'s been up to.\'

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The instant Mortin asked for a volunteer to make some deliveries, Evan jumped the chance. Mortin hesitated for a moment; he liked having Evan close at hand. Darori, oblivious as ever to the situation between the two men, believed that the hesitation was simply due to that Evan had never made deliveries before.

\"Oh, let the boy do it. He has to learn sometime,\" Darori encouraged her husband, \"Especially if you intend to leave the business to him.\"

Mortin grunted in agreement, and shoved the basket into Evan\'s arms. Evan barely heard the warning not to drop anything as he ran out the door. He made all the deliveries in record time; for his plan to work, he had to.

In the spare moments he had earned by his fast work, Evan visited the announcement board. Scanning it quickly, his eyes landed on the perfect opportunity. The advertisement read:

\"Due to a recent epidemic in the settlement of Rocowen, there is need for volunteers to repopulate the town bearing the good King Rocov\'s name. All those willing to help bring glory to our king must be of childbearing age, able bodied, and preferably single. Those who meet these three requirements are to meet at the town gate at the noon hour of 21 November.\"

There was no time to waste; the group left that very day, and there was only a few moments until noon.. Not even bothering to return the money to the bakery, Evan ran like made to the town gate. He made it within seconds of being left behind. The group heading for Rowcowen was surprised to see the handsome brunette racing towards them, more so when he wheezed out his intent to join them.

\"Where are your things, boy?\" Queried the thick soldier who was to guide them.

\"I don\'t have anything except a little money.\" Evan admitted. A few people looked down their noses at him, like he was a repulsive bug. Others laughed at him.

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Evan didn\'t relax until the group was a week\'s journey away from where they had begun. By then, he was sure that Mortin would have given up finding him.

The relief didn\'t last long. Evan fell ill less than halfway to his destination.

\"Leave him,\" the guide insisted when a woman tried to agrue that someone ought to help Evan. \"He knew there\'d be risks. We can\'t risk anyone else catching what he\'s got and starting another epidemic.\"

Delirious, Evan never realized that he had been left on his own. He followed the dancing images that flitted before him. The false creatures lead him a long way through the cold, until he stumbled upon a cave. Only aware that there was warmth eminating from a bright creature near the center of the den, Evan stumbled toward it.

An arm held him back. Evan fought weakly, crying out to what he assumed was an angel. The arm continued to hinder him, while another forced something to his lips. Evan sputtered as bitter liquid was poured down his throat. Unable to prevent some from making it\'s way down his throat, Evan lost his nerve and attempted escape by moving away from the tepid body. He found himself again hindered, and his weak body continued to grow steadily weaker with drowsiness.