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“Stop hogging the cookie jar,” Stacy’s voice crowed from the other side of the table.
Hendrik rolled his eyes as he laid a protective hand over the metal lid of the jar. Large, chocolate chip cookies sat in a neat stack inside. He glared at his sister as she lifted her chin at him.
“I’m not hogging it, just making sure you don’t spoil your appetite before dinner.”
“I’m older than you, so why are you behaving like the mature one here?”
Stacy’s eyebrows drew down and she grimaced at him. Of course she wouldn’t be too fond of Hendrik bossing her around, but someone had to be the one to make sure she wasn’t emptying their sweet stash before the end of the week. Stacy’s hand struck out, grabbing for the jar. But Hendrik was faster, yanking it away before she could snatch it.
“Why are you so serious all the time anyway?” Stacy asked. “You’re just a little kid. Aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”
“How am I ever to follow in father’s footsteps if I cannot prove myself worthy?” Hendrik asked.
Stacy rolled her eyes. “You’re already plenty worthy. Now hand me the jar—“
A boom sounded from outside. The whole house shook and a pot hanging from a hook in the kitchen clattered on the floor.
Hendrik and Stacy looked to the window.
Outside, a fire billowed out of one of the cottages, dark, black plumes coating the sky.
Stacy shot to her feet.
“What—“ Hendrik started to speak when the door to their house slammed open.
“Marigold?” Stacy asked.
Hendrik’s old sister had a streak of black across her cheek. Her pleated dress, with all its frills, had a dash of ash on it. Her bright eyes were wild despite the neat braids on either side of her head.
“Something happened at the general store,” Marigold said. “I was just on my way home when there was this awful explosion!”
Another tremor shook the ground. This time, it was followed by shouts and the stench of smoke.
Hendrik reached up, pinching his nose. “Can they not wait until tomorrow for this?”
“We have to get going,” Marigold said. “Stacy, I’m going to go out and search for Rose and Mother. You take Hendrik and—“
“No, we are not separating.”
Just then, Hendrik’s eyes glanced to the doorway again and his jaw dropped.
“Marigold—“
The skeleton on the other side needed no warning before swinging its sword at her. She shouted, and Hendrik shouted, preparing to throw himself at the monster.
Stacy scrambled to the nearest wall and yanked a rapier from its hook. Another weapon clattered to the ground as she rushed to the entrance. Hendrik barely had time to think as he dropped onto his knees and grabbed the other sword.
It was heavy in his hands, almost too heavy to lift, but as he watched Stacy stave off the monster, he could not help but try and do something.
She was tough, and with Hendrik’s help, they were tougher.
“I can’t hold them off much longer!” Stacy shouted.
Marigold was clutching her side now. As Hendrik swung his sword at the monster’s ankles, he thought about her pain. He thought about Mother and Rose. He thought about Father and the castle and the king.
The skeleton swung its sword again and Stacy lifted hers in time to parry its attack. She aimed for the hinge where its elbow was and severed the arm completely, the bones hitting the cobblestones with a clatter. Another swing and the monster was nothing but a purple plume on the scorched air.
Stacy swiped the sweat from her forehead. She turned to Marigold again. “Are you alright?”
Marigold’s hand pulled away from her side. Hendrik couldn’t tell whether she was bleeding or not. It was all happening too fast.
“I’ll live,” she said. “We don’t have much time. Take Hendrik and go to the castle. I’ll search for Mother and Rose.”
“But—“
“No buts,” Marigold said. “I’m the oldest. I make decisions in the case of emergencies. And I’m saying you need to seek shelter in the castle.”
“No.” Hendrik’s voice was stern but resolute.
Both sisters looked down at him. He met their gazes with a determined squint. “I am my father’s son, and I will defend you at all costs!”
“No you won’t!” Stacy shouted. She thrust a hand out to the city. “We are under attack, Hendrik! Now is not the time for heroics!”
“Stacy, take him and go. Now.”
More monsters were approaching, judging by the clambering of their bony feet on the cobblestones.
“I can fight by your side,” Hendrik said. “Marigold, please—“
“No is no.”
She turned her head away from him. She pulled the sword from her hip and readied herself against the monsters. She spared one last glance back at Stacy and gestured with her chin to get going.
Hendrik shouted and lifted his sword, preparing to strike, but Stacy grabbed his arm and yanked it in the opposing direction.
She was still older than him and much stronger. No matter how much he wrestled with her or cried, he could not pry her grip free from his arm.
Hendrik looked behind himself one last time, to Marigold facing off against several of the skeletal monsters. Then he turned back toward Stacy, his feet skidding against the stones as she weaved through people and buildings on their way up to the castle.
Wherever the fire had originated from, it was spreading now. It licked at the tips of buildings and ate up the tulips and other flowers that scattered throughout the town. The whole place would be dried up in minutes if someone didn’t do something.
Other people jostled each other and shouted. Hendrik’s eyes searched, his grip on his sword sure, but he couldn’t see anyone he recognized. They were all just smears of skin and hair, panicked eyes and tears.
He had to find mother. Marigold was not going to last long on her own, even being a decent swordswoman.
“Please, can someone help me!” A screaming woman, crouched in the streets, drew Hendrik’s attention.
Stacy ignored her but Hendrik could not. He sucked in a breath and then yanked as hard as he could. He broke free and sprinted away immediately, back toward the woman kneeling in the streets.
“Hendrik!” Stacy shouted but Hendrik ignored her.
There was no room for hesitation now. He reached the woman and knelt in front of her.
“How can I help?” he asked.
People were screaming and running past them now. He worried faintly about being stepped on.
“My child— I think she’s injured,” the woman said.
Hendrik peered down at the cloth gripped in her hand. The baby inside bawled and swung its chubby fists at the sky.
“Ev— Everything’s going to be okay,” Hendrik stammered.
The mother’s eyes widened. At first, Hendrik couldn’t fathom why, but then he saw the shadow cast upon them and whipped around.
He lifted the sword but was too slow.
The skeleton swung down, grazing his arm, smacking its sword into the stones.
Hendrik gasped as a shot of adrenaline coursed through his system. He lifted his sword in time during the second attempt and aimed for the hinges at the knees.
The bone felt like rock. His teeth chattered together. The monster didn’t even flinch as it swung down again, and again it struck him in the arm and he fell onto his bum, grunting.
He could feel the blood trickling from the fresh wound. The tear of the fabric in his arm revealed a red stain.
Hendrik looked up again as another monster approached from the other side.
Maybe Marigold and Stacy were right. Maybe he should have let them lead the way instead of being a reckless fool.
The skeleton prepared another attack, and all he could do was shiver uncontrollably as he lifted his sword again. He closed his eyes, but the final attack never came.
He heard the clang of metal on metal and looked up.
Sword met sword. And higher up, a knight stood over him, the helmet on their face revealing nothing but their eyes from through slim slits in the metal.
Hendrik’s heart stopped and then flooded with relief.
The knights were here. Everything would be fine.
Another swing of the knight’s sword and the monster was a puff of smoke.
“On your feet,” the knight said.
He looked down and extended his arm to Hendrik. Hendrik accepted it and rose to his feet. The knight helped the woman up too, and then together the knight gestured with a hand for them to follow.
“Have you seen my sister?” Hendrik asked. “She was just here, but I broke away from her.”
“I can’t say,” the man said. “If she was headed toward the castle, she might have already made it in by now.”
“‘Might have?’” Hendrik repeated.
Steely eyes glanced down. “It’s a mad house out there. Cross your fingers.”
Hendrik didn’t want to cross his fingers. He wanted to go out and fight. But he knew soon enough he would be safe, and the allure of that was too strong to resist. Not when it’s what Marigold and Rose wanted.
The castle was in view now. Gryphons circled overhead and Hendrik heard the clanging and shouting of a battle at the front gates. Men and monsters battled back and forth, swords and magic sparking and glinting in the late afternoon sun.
"I have survivors!" Hendrik's guide shouted through the cacophony. "Hark, let us through!"
It was only then that Hendrik noticed the men at the top of the castle's walls, their metal helmets peeking out from behind ballistas and archery equipment.
The large, metal grate that led inside began to rise.
The soldier pushed Hendrik and the woman closer. "Hurry, before the monsters get through!"
Hendrik was small enough to shuffle underneath the metal teeth without much trouble but the mother, saddled with the crying baby, could barely crouch. Hendrik knelt and reached for her hand from under the door. She grabbed him and he waited only a second for the grate to rise high enough for him to yank her through.
A skeleton ran into the bars immediately afterward, wildly swinging its sword.
"Go, go!" Soldiers shouted from both sides of the divide, gesturing and shouting and fighting.
A knight from their side approached and pointed with his spear. "This way."
Where one side was facing off against scarewolves and skeletons, this side was fighting mermen and gryphons. They managed to skirt by without much attention.
The door to the inside of the castle was cracked open. The knight led them in and Hendrik gaped at the other side. Ornamental suits of armor laid on the floor. The ruby red carpet was torn, some patches coated in ichor. Shattered glass, too, covered the ground, and empty skeletons of chandeliers hung overhead.
"I have to find my father," Hendrik said. “He’s…”
Hendrik paused his speaking as a brigade of shoes tromped across the carpets.
Hendrik recognized King Arnout immediately. He had wide shoulders, scruffy facial hair, and deep, blue eyes that blazed as he stormed across the hallway toward the castle entrance. A group of knights followed him, their swords drawn, determination clear on their firm, narrowed eyes.
“Father!” Hendrik shouted, but none of the knights turned to look at him. “Father!”
Hendrik dashed toward the king, reaching to grab his coattails, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whipped around, and there was his father, kneeling next to him.
Father had small, narrowed eyes. He had a wide face and thinning hair on the top of his head. Life had worn him out, and Hendrik could see the stress lining the bags under his eyes.
“Son,” he said. His voice was deep and gravelly. “Listen to me. Stay with the knights in the Dining Hall.”
“But Mother—“
“Leave her to me.”
“And what about Marigold? And Stacy? And Rose?”
Father’s eyebrows knitted together. And then he sighed, dropping his hand from Hendrik’s shoulder. “Hendrik—“
“Men, stop dilly-dallying! To the front lines, now!” King Arnout interrupted. He drew his sword and aimed it at the exit.
The knights shouted their confirmation and Hendrik’s father turned to him again.
“Stay safe, Hendrik. I love you.”
He leaned in for a hug and Hendrik’s nose stung. What about his sisters? What about his mother? What about— what about Father?
“Take me with you,” Hendrik said.
“No. It’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t care! I’m strong enough!” Hendrik shouted. “I’m my father’s son!”
“That you are. And you will stay here and protect those in the stronghold.” Hendrik’s father stood. He glanced down at Hendrik, his gaze like a piercing arrow. “That is an order.”
An icy chill went down Hendrik’s spine. Father and the other men continued their march toward the city as their escort grabbed his arm and pulled him the other direction.
Hendrik froze, yanking his arm away, and stared at his father’s back. He could go running and screaming and banging his fists, but would Father be happy seeing Hendrik throw a fit like that? Would Mother?
“Father!” Hendrik shouted. Father didn’t turn his head. “I promise— I promise to make you proud!”
Hendrik’s hands clenched into fists. His voice echoed through the castle as the knight grabbed his arm again, and Hendrik relented, following him down the hallway.
…
...
The Dining Hall was a mess. A large table was overturned, dishes and food scattering the ground. A few dozen people lined the farthest wall, some crouched or seated, others standing holding their children, each bang from outside making the younger children shutter or cry.
It was eerily quiet save for those echoes that carried through the gilded walls. The mother at Hendrik’s shoulder darted for the wall and ended up standing next to a woman who accepted the baby from her arms and cradled it close to her chest.
Now that Hendrik looked closer, many people were in groups.
He should be happy about that, but it also made him feel sad. Made him realize none of his family… none of them had made it. …Yet.
Hendrik found an isolated corner of the room and pulled his knees to his chest. He kept his sword on the ground hear his feet, a hand still clasped around it.
Each quake, each monster roar and explosion rattled the walls. Hendrik’s adrenaline was so high, his eyes wide and alert, that he couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to.
When the noises started to get closer and the floors shook with the stomping of feet, Hendrik shot to his feet. He readied his sword as the guards exchanged looks and prepared their weapons, too.
The doors burst open and splintered wood shot out at them. The women shielded their eyes and screamed.
The monsters had long, dangling tongues and clawed hands. Beady eyes darted around the room before landing on the men.
“Well, well, well! What do we have here? More delicious humans?” the monster cackled.
“Stay back, fiend!” one of the guards shouted.
He ran forward and raised his sword. He shouted as he threw the weapon down, meeting the scaled claw of a monster.
Blood sprayed from the soldier’s torso. Metal clanked as his helmeted head looked down. The other monster’s hand had clawed through his armor, painting the carpet crimson.
Hendrik, who had been so prepared to fight a second ago, faltered. His breath grew heavy as he backed into the wall, a flow of thoughts running through his mind. They were replaced all too soon with alert when a gryphon approached with its slashing claws and Hendrik raised the heavy sword up to defend himself.
The monster knocked him to the ground easily. The sword was ripped from his hands and he scrambled for it, realizing too late that to turn onto his stomach as he was doing would expose his back.
Just as Hendrik was about to turn around again, the monster hit the ground next to him and sizzled in a flurry of purple magic. A knight hovered over him and extended his hand. Hendrik accepted it and rose to his feet.
“You better stay on high alert,” the knight said. “Don’t want any more surprises.”
“What do we do?” Hendrik asked. “I don’t— I don’t want to—“
“You’re not gonna die. Not if I have anything ta say about it.”
The knight lifted his sword and started swinging at the monsters. Hendrik joined him, though he felt like he was chopping a tree with a dagger compared to the damage the man on his shoulder was dealing.
Hendrik’s strikes were lumbering and light. Monsters deflected them easily, no matter how much power Hendrik put behind them. Hendrik was without a shield too, which meant he had to spend a lot more time backing away from monsters than facing them head-on.
He should have known when the first skeleton swept him off his feet with a well-placed stab that the outcome of the fight had already been decided.
When a skeleton knocked Hendrik off his feet a second time, he shielded his face with trembling hands. He listened to the scrapes and grunts of people, assuming his life would be ended shortly. But when that final hit never came, Hendrik opened his eyes again.
The man who approached him was slimmer and a little taller than the king Hendrik new. But he, too, had a beard trailing from his chin and slanted eyes that glinted with power.
He knelt in front of Hendrik and extended his hand. “Fear not, child. You’re safe now.”
“Thank you,” Hendrik said. He sighed deeply, but there was still a knot in his chest.
“King Carnelian! Permission to search the area, sir!”
“Permission granted,” the king said. He turned his eyes onto those still gathered behind the dining table. “The monsters have been defeated. You all are safe now.”
“What about my husband?” One woman asked. “And my brother?”
More voices rang out, all asking for their loved ones. They kept going, and going, but the king didn’t interrupt them. He just slowly nodded his head until the voices tapered out.
“I know you are all worried about your friends and family,” he said. “I, too, am worried. But we are not yet sure of the complete devastation the monsters wrought. I have sent a search party to look for survivors, but…” he paused. “The monsters came suddenly, and they came prepared. I suggest you all… tamper your expectations.”
Hendrik’s heart fell through his stomach. He sucked in a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, and when they opened them again, they were already pricked with tears.
…
…
The crackling of a campfire and the smell of ash filled Hendrik’s nose. Despite the earlier day’s turmoils, he surprised himself with how comfortably he could sit down in front of the flickering flames without feeling his stomach churn. His hands were still shaking, though. Even as he extended them toward the gentle heat, he saw the light tremor.
A few other people were still awake this late, though most of them were guards on sentry duty.
They had to protect their king, after all.
The man who had saved Hendrik’s life and the lives of countless Zwaardsrustians who were now following him back to Heliodor.
Hendrik didn’t really have any other choice. It was either follow the king back to Heliodor or stay behind in a house that wasn’t his anymore, with a family that had been torn from him.
He didn’t want to think about it. But he could not help that his mind wandered back to it.
Just as Hendrik was sniffling, preparing to fight off another round of tears, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, sniffling.
It was the king himself, dressed in all white that melted into the cool shadows of the night.
“Having trouble sleeping?” he asked.
“How could I not?” Hendrik asked. “I lost everything today. Mother, Father…” he reached up and wiped his face, but he wasn’t even crying yet.
“Your sadness is understandable,” the king said. “Let it out if you need to. That’s better than keeping it bottled up.”
“I don’t feel like crying,” Hendrik said. “I feel like I want… I want… something.”
Revenge, probably. His family back, definitely.
“Listen, Hendrik,” King Carnelian said. Hendrik looked up into his face. “We cannot change the past. But we can change the future. I would like to offer you a place in my castle as a knight-in training. It will be difficult, and there will be days where you might feel like giving up, but it is an honest job.”
“Yes,” Hendrik said. “I accept. I want to be a knight. I want to grow up to be a man my father can be proud of.”
An edge of a smile worked its way onto King Carnelian’s lips. “You already are.”
…
…
The city of Heliodor was a mixture of sights and sounds, bright colors and smiling faces.
There was a lot of hubbub when King Carnelian and the brigade of Zwaardsrustian survivors arrived. Citizens turned their heads as knights cleared a path for them to the castle. Hendrik noticed fountains and houses, ladies outside hanging their laundry and children playing with their dogs in the street.
Hendrik had already gotten a taste of the Heliodorian accent while traveling with King Carnelian and his men, but the conglomeration of accented voices in the city made it difficult for him to understand what anyone was saying. He stuck close to the back of the train of people, keeping his eyes on the heads of the helmeted knights ahead of him.
That’s what he was here for: To become one of them.
Guards opened the castle doors and ushered the group inside.
Suddenly a little more conscious of his posture, Hendrik straightened his back and marched past the castle doors and into the extravagantly decorated castle beyond.
…
…
Getting settled in the castle was all a blur to Hendrik.
Already heavily fatigued from several days of travel, he followed everyone else’s lead, first from the washroom to the dining hall then to the bedroom at the end of the night.
His eyelids grew heavier with every step. He registered the sound of a door opening and locked eyes with the maid as she said something to him about the beds. He nodded, assuming he could figure out what she was talking about once he sat down.
Hendrik stepped into the bedroom, the maid closed the door behind him, and he shuffled over to the bed. He dropped onto the mattress, sitting on the very edge, reaching to rub his eyes.
“Excuse me!”
A voice shouted from behind Hendrik. He whipped around, staring into a pair of golden eyes.
They narrowed as the boy reclining on the mattress shuffled up to a sitting position. There was a book hanging from between his fingers, which he dropped onto his lap.
“Can’t you see this is my bed?”
“Sorry,” Hendrik said. His voice came out raspy. He cleared his throat. “I’ll go to the other bed.”
He stood and crossed the room. The other bed was made perfectly, the sheets pulled tight over the mattress. Hendrik kicked off his shoes before laying down, his head pressing into a cold pillow.
“Are you one of the refugees?” the other boy asked.
“Pardon?” Hendrik asked.
“A survivor. From Zwaardsrust.”
“I…” Hendrik swallowed. “Yes. Can we not talk about it right now? I’m tired.”
“Sure.”
“Thank you.”
Hendrik turned onto his side and closed his eyes, tucking his hands under his chin. He fell asleep between one blink and the next.
…
…
Hendrik felt something smacking lightly against his cheek.
He was vaguely aware of a sound, and the feeling, but as he started to wake, a sting joined it, too. And then Hendrik’s eyes opened and met those of his golden-haired roommate.
“You’re awake, finally! It only took five minutes!” The boy said. “Up and at ‘em! Knight training doesn’t start itself!”
“Knight… training?” Hendrik mumbled.
“What do you think I said?” he asked. He stood up and set his hands on his hips. “Now, as I was saying. Up with you.”
Hendrik slowly sat up and took in the room.
Sun was already filtering in from a window with its curtain pulled open. Hendrik’s roommate’s bed had already been made, and Hendrik now noticed the wooden trunks sitting at the ends of their beds. A mound of cloth sat at the end of Hendrik’s, and as he crawled over to it, he saw clothing and blankets. He hadn’t brought any of his belongings from Zwaardsrust— not that there were any left to bring anyway— so these must have been new ones. He picked out some clothing and prepared to get dressed.
“I’ll see you in the dining hall,” the other boy said.
“What is your name?” Hendrik asked.
“Jasper,” he said. “What’s yours?”
“Hendrik.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Hendrik. Now get chopping,” Jasper said as he twisted on his heel and marched out the door.
Finally, a second of silence. It had only taken several days.
Hendrik looked around once more. So this was his new life.
It wasn’t so bad… At least he had a roof over his head. Even better than that, he was living in a castle! Stacy would be so jealous.
And just like that, Hendrik had sabotaged his mood again.
…
…
When he finally came down for breakfast, the table had already been cleared. Hendrik was surprised to see Jasper still waiting for him.
“Sorry I’m late,” Hendrik said. “We can go straight to training if I took too long.”
Jasper stared at him for a few seconds. Then he threw his hands up. “You know what? Nevermind all that. You just got here yesterday. I for one think you deserve a bit more of a break. Whaddaya say I give you a tour of the castle instead?”
“I already got a tour of the castle yesterday.”
“So? You think that means you can’t have another?”
“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you…”
“You’re not inconveniencing anybody,” Jasper said. “There’s no point pretending something awful didn’t happen to you. So let’s have some fun today instead! For starters: What do you want for breakfast? The maids will make you anything you want.”
Hendrik’s lips screwed shut. “Oh, but…”
Jasper crossed his arms. “Out with it. What’s your favorite food?”
The question pulled an answer to the tip of Hendrik’s tongue.
“I… I guess I wouldn’t mind some fried mushrooms…”
“Hold onto your chair,” Jasper said. “I’ll have some whipped up for you right away.”
Hendrik stared at Jasper as he stepped across the floor and knocked on a wooden door on the other side of the room. It opened and Jasper looked up at the person in a stained apron. Hendrik couldn’t hear what he was saying but it was a curt conversation that ended with Jasper returning to his seat across from Hendrik.
“I like living here,” Jasper said. “We don’t get many rights considering we’re just knights in training, and they don’t like picky eaters, but I think they’ll give you an exception this time.”
“Thanks,” Hendrik said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jasper responded.
Hendrik didn’t know what else to say, so he didn’t say anything. He only moved once a maid stepped out with a plate of steaming mushrooms. The smell wafted up to his nose and his stomach rumbled as he reached for his fork and jammed it into the center of a crimini mushroom.
He brought it up to his watering mouth and closed his eyes. Juicy, savory. Chewy, but not too chewy.
Mother used to cook something like this for Hendrik all the time. It was easy to make, so the family would often have it for dinner. All of them, seated at the dinner table, talking together…
“Are you crying?”
Hendrik reached up and wiped the tears from his burning cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a big crybaby…”
"So long as you don't start doing it all the time," Jasper said. "I don't want to deal with someone who's always crying."
"I won't," Hendrik said as another sniffle passed, "I promise."
...
...
The first night at a new place is always the hardest.
This was especially true for Hendrik when the rest of his first day at Heliodor whizzed right by. Jasper gave him that aforementioned tour around the castle, then they spent the rest of the day in the streets of Heliodor, visiting shops and theaters and whatever else caught their interest.
It was enough to keep Hendrik's mind occupied— for a second.
But as soon as dinner was over and everyone had returned to their beds for the night, the reality of what Hendrik had experienced started to sink in again.
He remembered his last moments with his sisters. He remembered talking to his father, saying he would do Father proud. And he remembered almost coming to a close end before being saved by King Carnelian.
And when Hendrik fell asleep, he dreamt up new things.
He dreamed about blood, and death, and the killing and re-killing of people close to him.
When his eyes shot open in the middle of the night, they were filled with tears.
How was he ever going to get through his life without them? Would the pain in his heart ever stop? He should have told them he loved them, one last time. Father tried to tell him, but…
Hendrik shuffled to a sitting position and pulled his knees up to his chest. He tucked his nose into the space between his knees as he started to cry. He tried to stay silent but the more upset he became, the more difficult it was to stay silent.
Hendrik heard other movement in the room and froze. A candle flickered and a shadow moved across the walls. Jasper yawned and then he was sitting on the edge of Hendrik’s bed.
“Having trouble sleeping, I take it.”
“I just had a nightmare, that’s all,” Hendrik mumbled.
“It’s okay, it’ll pass,” Jasper said.
“But will it?” Hendrik whispered.
“Everything does eventually. The good and the bad. If you don’t like something the way it is now, wait a bit, and it’ll change.”
“Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
Jasper yawned as he rose from Hendrik’s bed.
“No problem.”
“Good night,” Hendrik said.
“Night,” Jasper said, reaching for the candle.
“Wait. Do you mind keeping it lit?”
Jasper briefly looked down his nose at Hendrik but then smiled. “Sure thing,” he said, and made his way back to his bed.
That night, Hendrik managed to find sleep again with his head full of hope for the future.