Lamb awoke to a comfortable bed, a thatched roof, and a fireplace burning warmly a short distance away. He was alive. He'd liked to have called that a pleasant surprise, except his inner voice had given him an annoying and incessant running commentary on the state of his injuries. If anything, he'd just been bored to death waiting to wake up again.
He sat up, looking around at his surroundings. He was in some kind of round, single-room cottage. The walls were wooden, with a couple of windows spaced opposite each other. There was a table in the centre of the room- round, with a number of chairs tucked underneath it. Liz was sat in an armchair beside his double bed, head nodding and dribbling slightly. Lamb smirked to himself, making a mental note to inform her of that fact later on.
Shoving the blankets to one side, he lowered himself carefully to the ground, finding that while the pain was still there it was at least minimal. Somebody had changed his clothes while he was out of it, and he found he was wearing a new pair of black trousers. He had no shirt, his entire upper body covered in a thick layer of bandages, and his boots were gone. Not that he particularly cared, considering how irreparably damaged they'd been; and the same could be said for the rest of his clothes. More important was the question of whose house they were staying in.
He yawned to himself, stretching the aches out of his arms whilst trying not to injure himself further. Having now experienced how it felt to be wounded, he decided it was not something he wished to go through again. Leave that to the Wardens and the soldiers. So, to avoid that, he was going to retrieve Liz and his statue, and then they were going to go somewhere the Wardens wouldn't find them. Leave the whole fighting thing to those more suited to it.
He glanced around the room in sudden alarm. His statue wasn't here. He sincerely hoped that they hadn't left it behind- or worse, that it had fallen into the chasm. Not that he knew why he cared so much, but he felt deep down that if he were to lose the statue, things would go very badly.
It's outside, the voice rose unbidden to his mind, and he groaned in frustration.
Not you again...
We need to talk.
Lamb scowled. Don't want to. You're annoying.
This is important.
You're importantly annoying?
Hilarious. I see why that Warden wanted to kill you so badly.
The boy shrugged in frustration. That guy was a dick.
Who only showed up because of Liz. Didn't you find it interesting how he arrived for Elizabeth but paid so much attention to you instead?
Probably because I was hitting him.
Did you really believe that?
Shouldn't I?
Liz should have been the prize, and you the obstacle, but halfway through those roles seemed to switch. Didn't you feel that?
Not really, Lamb sat down on the edge of the bed, I was too busy hitting him. But go on, then; if you're so clever, why'd he do it?
There was a pause in the mental conversation. Are you aware of the Prophecy of the Four?
Course. The realms were being overwhelmed by the demons, and the Prophecy said that the Four Elements would rise up to save the world. Then it turned out the Elements were four warriors of each race, and they locked the demons back in their own realm.
Hmm, the voice agreed, sort of. But there was a second part to the Prophecy; one that they prefer to keep secret.
Oh?
The second part is more or less the opposite of the first. It states that one day the demons will return, and the Four Elements- which, for the record, have disappeared into gods know where- will be forced to face them again. And that when they do, a world will be destroyed. I think that second part is just about overdue.
Lamb froze. You mean the world is going to be destroyed?
Not the world, a world. It was never specified which.
Then what does that have to do with me? Thoughts of his broken memory and physical abilities sprung to mind and he stopped. Hang on. Are you trying to say I'm the Human Element?
Muffled laughter greeted his question. You do realise the Elements were around nearly a hundred years ago? Besides, you don't even come close to one of them.
Yeah, then what? Are you him?
Hardly. But you're a little closer.
Then who are you?
I'm you. Sort of.
Then, Lamb closed his eyes, if the Prophecy doesn't involve us, why bring it up?
Well, the voice stated, I said you weren't an Element. I didn't say it doesn't involve us.
It does?
It's obvious that you're not normal. I know you aren't the Human. The Wardens don't.
Your point?
They weren't sure at the time, but now that you've defeated a Warden they're going to jump to conclusions. I'm trying to warn you- it won't just be Liz they're hunting now. If they get it into their heads that you're an Element, the threat you pose to them is enormous. They'll be after you too.
Perfect. Just perfect. The boy sighed heavily to himself. If you know so much, can you at least tell me who I am?
Matthias Lamb. Sixteen years old, onetime peacekeeper and now fugitive.
You know what I meant. Why am I missing half my memory? Why has some of it started returning?
The voice chuckled patronisingly. That's something you'll have to figure out for yourself, in your own time. Right now, I'm just an observer.
Great. Fat lot of use you are.
Lamb lay back down on the bed. The world ending, the Wardens hunting, and an annoying and unhelpful voice in his head. Wonderful.
Liz woke later in the day, drowsy and blurry-eyed. He looked at her. "You dribble in your sleep."
She stared at him. Blinked exactly once. A second passed, then two, then just when he was beginning to think she might have fallen back to sleep she let out a shriek, hurling herself at him.
He fell back onto the bed in shock as she caught him in a bear hug, burying her head in his chest and sobbing madly. "You're awake! Thank god, I was so... so..."
Lamb froze, stunned at the sudden outburst of emotion. He wasn't sure whether to complain that she was crushing him, or be happy with the closeness of her body. In the end he did neither, simply letting herself cry herself out until his bandages were soaking.
Eventually she pulled back. Her eyes were red-rimmed, puffy from her tears, which he found looked pretty cute- kind of like a puppy. He shoulders were still shaking, but she seemed to have a little more control over herself. "Thank god you're alive. I was so worried- I mean, if you died because of me..."
"Swear to god," Lamb muttered, "you've gotta be the stupidest girl I've ever met. Didn't I say I wasn't gonna die on you? Just needed a rest is all."
"I know. I should have trusted you. I'm s-"
"One more word."
She gave a wry smile. "Oh. Forgot about that. It's just, you were out for ten days and-"
"What!?" Lamb jumped. "You're joking!? Ten days!?"
"That's why I was so worried. Quint told me that you'd recover, but then so much time passed, and..."
"Damnit!"
She stopped, looking at him. "What?"
"Ten days! Ten days of my life I coulda done something with, an' now they're gone."
"I... don't really think that's the biggest problem..."
"Course it is. D'you have any idea what I'd have done in ten days?"
"Not really?"
"Neither do I- an' now I never will."
Liz put a hand over her mouth, smothering a laugh. "I really don't think it's that much of an issue."
"Yeah, but... ah, whatever." Lamb scowled, finding himself unable to sustain any resentment in her presence. "Guess I can't change it now anyways."
The girl smiled. "See. Look on the bright side. At least you're alive."
"Only one surprised by that's you." He glanced at her. "Who's Quint?"
"The man who saved you. You were falling off the edge, and Quint arrived just in time to catch you. This is his and Max's house. They said we could stay here while you recovered."
"Max is...?"
"She's his girlfriend I think. And she's," Liz thought about how to phrase it, "interesting. She's not really all that good with people. She's a bit shy, and she isn't really that good at talking. But she's nice, and it was her who healed you."
Lamb nodded distractedly. Then he noticed something. "Those her clothes you're wearing?"
Liz glanced down at the brown dress. "Well, I couldn't really go around looking like- the way you dressed me."
He nodded appreciatively. "It looks better."
"Really?" She smiled at him in surprised gratitude.
"Yeah. Nice and plain. Matches your face."
The grin flipped into a scowl. "Max isn't happy about how you dressed me. You'll probably have to check she doesn't slip something into your food, or you might end up lying in bed for a little longer."
His face paled. "She knows how to that?"
"She knows how to do pretty much anything. From what I've been told, she can't forget a single word she's read."
"Cause she can't read?"
"She runs a library."
"Ah."
"Yes, ah. So try not to step on either of their toes. I may have had a while to get used to you, but they haven't; and I can't guarantee they'll be as forgiving as me."
Quint, as Lamb discovered when he returned, was a handsome man in his early twenties. He had the tan of a traveller, and a long black ponytail which contrasted starkly with his light blue eyes. He was tall- so Lamb found that he was forced to crane his neck a little to look him in the eyes- but not extraordinarily so.
Liz made the introductions and Quint held out his hand to shake; his left, so that Lamb didn't have to use his broken one. Max followed behind him, and Lamb began to understand what Liz had been getting at. The girl, blonde haired and wearing the same clothes as Liz, never quite stepped out from behind her partner. When she greeted him her voice was quiet, timid, and somehow fragile.
As she went to make dinner, Quint sat them down at the table. To begin with it was simply small talk, introducing himself, talking about his love of books and the library he ran- a subject which Lamb simply nodded along with, since he didn't really know how to read. However, as time went on the conversation seemed to become more and more pointed.
"I can't imagine how hard it could be," Quint said, "having to go through what you did."
Lamb shrugged. "Life ain't easy to begin with."
"You mean you've had issues like that before?"
Lamb shook his head. "But I helped run a tavern back home. Seen enough people down on their luck to know I ain't special."
"Except most people's issues don't involve fist fighting with Wardens."
"Well, we all got our problems. Figure I did okay."
"You did more than okay." The man leaned forwards, locking eyes with him. "I've seen what damage a Hellcannon blast can do. Most people would have been ripped apart by attacks like that; but you were able to shrug them off like they were nothing, then win a fight against a Squire when you were dead on your feet. You have to admit, that takes something special."
"I'm strong- an' hell, you ain't no weakling yourself."
Quint leaned back into his chair again, arms folded across his chest. "What do you mean by that?"
"I was a keeper o' the peace. I know a warrior when I see one."
"Perhaps," Quint nodded, "but being a warrior doesn't necessarily mean much."
Lamb raised an eyebrow at the deflection, remembering the second man who'd shown up just at the end of his fight. "Does if you can make a hundred yards in time to catch me."
The man gestured helplessly. "Okay, you have me there. Maybe I know a little magic; but that doesn't change anything or answer my question."
"Which is what?"
"How did you do it?"
"Told you- I'm strong an' I'm sturdy. An' I got lucky."
"But why are you so strong and resilient? What kinds of powers are you using?"
"Why are you askin'?"
"I've given you clothes to wear, food to eat, and a roof over your head- I think I have the right. And, while I've talked with Elizabeth about what happened to you two, there are still too many gaps to be filled."
"Like what?"
"Like what happened to you before you met her. Why are you so unnaturally strong, and why did you throw away your home and start a fight with the Wardens for somebody you'd only known for a week- and who, according to her, hadn't even told you why she was being hunted."
Lamb glanced over at Liz, frowning. "Weren't they after you 'cause they wanted your powers for themselves?"
She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "They... yes, they were, but also... well, that's not really the whole story."
The boy rolled his eyes. "Figured as much. Stupid girl."
"So," Quint interjected, "why did you do it? It hardly seems like a normal thing to do."
"Maybe," Lamb muttered, "just maybe, 'cause I don't like people dyin' when I can stop it."
"And your powers?"
"Don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I don't know."
"Then who are you really?"
"I don't," Lamb rose to his feet, slamming his fist down with enough force to crack the table, and knocking his chair across the room, "bloody, know!"
There was a hiss of breath as Max spilled something on her hand. The room went silent, all three of them gaping at his outburst. He shook his head in disgust, storming out of the house and accidentally breaking the hinges of the door. Considering that this man had rescued him, he'd kind of expected he might be even a little friendly.
And now he was being interrogated like some kind of criminal. Maybe he really should have stayed home after all.
