"That sounds like a great plan, Henry," Abe commented quietly from where he was leaning against the shop counter, staring blankly at his father, "why don't you just pack your bags right now?"

Henry sighed and rolled his eyes, losing his patience but quite capable of understanding Abe's frustration. They'd been discussing the next step all morning, and Henry was definitely going to be late to work. He threw his hands up, shaking his head.

"I know, Abe-but I'm not sure what else I can do here. It seems like the lesser evil, at least right now," he defended tiredly, nervously adjusting the collar of his thin button-down, "Besides, I need to know if there's more to the story. Surely, he can tell me-"

"That's true, yeah-but there has to be another way. They might have a list with your names on it, you know. You don't need to bring attention to this, or they might notice-and we both know that if Adam didn't have a clue about any of this and you go and tell him, then he'll freak out! We'll have some attention then, that's for sure," Abe reasoned, walking around the counter to lay gentle hands on Henry's shoulders, frowning in concern.

"I just want you to be careful, and I'm not sure if letting him in on this is the best idea. He has one hell of a temper," he finished, and Henry gave him one of his trademark fatherly looks, clapping a hand around Abe's wrist and squeezing comfortingly.

"I know, Abe. But what else are we going to talk about?"

…

Thirty-seven

A noise outside startled Vitus awake, but it had happened enough times over the years that he assumed it was another scavenging animal. Beside him, Aeliana breathed softly, lids closed as she dreamed beneath the covers; he smiled at the sight, though it was wreathed in nightly shadows. He thought to reach out and brush back her hair, but he didn't get the chance-a hand came to wrap over his mouth, while an arm snaked over his own to hold them tightly together as he was yanked up out of the bed; he bit the attacker and there was a loud noise of falling and shouting and panic, and the next thing Vitus heard was the familiar crying of his children. Before he could move, two men converged upon him and they fought upon the floor, but Vitus had never been a soldier-and the men dragged him, kicking and yelling, out of the house, just as they dragged a hysterical Aeliana that bit at them and kicked at their faces, her nose bloodied.

Tiberius followed his mother's actions and bit harshly into the arm that was wrapped around his chest and one of the men cursed and slapped him across the face for it; Tauria was too slight to fight back, and she only managed to wriggle and scream in one's hold. They were all being taken in the same direction, to the field outside their house-where four stakes awaited them. A man held a torch nearby, and Vitus saw the flame in the darkness and fought even more vigorously, throwing his entire body into each attempt as more men were called to control him. Aeliana shouted his name as one of the men struck him in the face with the end of another torch, and his vision was lost for far too many moments, his world darkening as he went limp, his screams cut off.

The sound of his father's name being spoken sent a jolt of awareness through him-he hadn't heard that name in years. Aeliana elbowed a man and took advantage of his loosened grip as she kneed him between the legs and ran straight for Vitus; he shook himself awake and stomped the foot of one of the men holding him and threw his head back to make contact with the man's face as they both fell backward onto the grass. Vitus scrambled to his feet as the second man lunged for him, prepared to try and defend himself, but he saw that another man was chasing Aeliana, reaching out to grab her. Calling her name, Vitus ran past the man to aid Aeliana, trying to reach her first, but as she put out her hand, all Vitus could manage before he was pulled back was to weakly grasp at her fingers, blood and dirt slick on their skin.

The one holding the torch continued speaking, seemingly annoyed that they'd interrupted him and tried to break free, as they were all dragged to the stakes and held down to be tied to them.

He spoke of some accusation, some event where they'd stolen his father's property, and it took a moment for Vitus to remember his life, his head throbbing and his pulse racing. Beside him, just a few mere, impossible feet away, Aeliana met his eyes with a horrified, mournful look. Vitus shook his head wildly, straining to break free of the rope that bound him.

"No. no! My family is innocent! Release them!" he shouted, tears welling in his eyes at the reality, "Kill me-but not my family, please!"

The men, nearly a dozen finally gathered around them-their faces all dark angles and shadows, only ignored Vitus' pleas and continued, reciting an old verdict that had always sent chills down Vitus' spine: accusations of witchcraft.

"Several witnesses saw you die and vanish before their very eyes, and here you stand now-alive and well."

Aeliana started to cry, silently, lowering her head as her shoulders heaved with sobs. The words died on Vitus' tongue; these men were not lawful, and they certainly wouldn't spare his family.

His eyes widened as he watched someone carry a torch over to where Tauria was bound; he shook his head, tears finally falling.

They screamed and cried and begged and prayed and fought to free themselves, but nothing could stop the man from leaning down and lighting the small pile of wood that Tauria's legs rested against. She tried to climb upwards, struggled to free her hands, but she wasn't strong enough. The men stood, stoic and watchful, as she started to scream. Vitus, helpless, was reminded of the playful screams he would have heard if he'd been chasing her around the house or tossing her up into the air, the delighted cries of joy; he heard none of that now-only agony. It was a sound that broke him.

Aeliana screamed as if she were being burned herself, and Vitus along with her; Tiberius sobbed, defeated, until Tauria's voice died out as she lost the breath to cry, and then there was only silence. Without hesitation, the man then lit the wood beneath Tiberius, and it took even longer for him to die. Images of his smiling face flashed in Vitus' head, from the feel of his newborn arms wriggling in his blanket to the sound of his laughter as he raced Vitus in that very field.

Vitus' voice gave out, his throat raw from screaming, and if not for the rope that bound him to the stake, he wouldn't have been able to stand. His breath came in small, weak bursts, and Aeliana had finally gone still, but she was gasping convulsively, hunched over with tears streaking through the blood and grass on her face. Vitus begged the gods to let them die, finally; he prayed that they might end the pain.

Aeliana was the next to suffer, and her screams echoed even louder; weakly, he cried out, hoping to be heard over the crackling of the flames and shouting of his wife.

"Please..."

He wanted to go with her, with them all.

Before Aeliana had even taken her last breath, the men were all too eager to light Vitus' pile; as the flames surrounded him, they shielded the rest of the world from his view.

It was perhaps the most merciful death he might ever welcome.