Ash found it hard to live in his head after his adventure in the forest. That time with Finn had reminded him of the person he'd been once, so falling back into the dull grey world of Ash was challenging. Once again, he found himself thinking about leaving this life behind. The house belonged to him didn't it? Could he order his stepfamily to leave? Would his father forgive him? His father had sacrificed a great deal to marry again, all for the sake of family, how would he feel about his son sending the family away?

Ash thought about what to do, unsure what direction to take. Gathering his courage, he decided to speak with his old schoolmaster about the issue. Mr. Able had been a friend to his father, as well as the headmaster of the school that Ash had attended years ago. After Ash's father passed, Mr. Able had offered his help to Ash, letting Ash know that he was a friend who could be counted on. However, Ash had never reached out to him; it had been much easier to fall into his stepmother's wishes. When Ash was pulled from school Mr. Able and his stepmother had a large row, Ash had never heard the particulars of that argument but he never saw Mr. Able again. There had been a time, shortly after he learned about his wasted inheritance, that he thought of Mr. Able, but pride had reared its ugly head and Ash didn't ask for help.

Ash picked a day that his family was out again, and rode into town. Ash borrowed some of his brother's clothes, old ones that wouldn't be missed, but they were still nicer than anything Ash owned. He felt foolish and out of place in clothes that were too big for him, Driscoll was bigger than Ash, more muscle and wider shoulders and hips. However silly he felt in these clothes, it was better than wearing his own clothes; they were threadbare and too short for him in several places. Surprisingly, Ash was still getting taller, even at this age, and height wise he was almost matching his brother. Sadly though, Ash had never been able to gain any width in his shoulders. Any muscle he put on only made him look leaner, but that could be because of his poor diet Ash thought. Most of the food went to feed the rest of the family, not because they wanted to starve Ash, but because some days Ash was too apathetic to eat.

Hoping that Mr. Able still lived in the house he remembered, Ash knocked on the door. A maid answered the door and showed Ash inside the house.

It wasn't long before Mr. Able entered the sitting room where Ash waited.

"Asher?" He asked.

Ash was surprised how much Mr. Able had aged, it hadn't seemed that long, but the last six years had begun to show Mr. Able's age. He used a cane, and had more liver spots on his head than he had hair, though he did have a thick white beard that was long and pointed.

"Mr. Able." Ash nodded.

He was surprised when Mr. Able dropped his cane and hugged Ash tightly. When the old man leaned back, he was crying. "I never thought you would come." He said sadly turning Ash around so he could see how much he'd grown. "But you came." He patted the young man on the back. "Good boy."

Ash suddenly also felt the urge to cry, how many years since someone had cared for him like this? What a fool he'd been wasting his time worrying about pride.

"You'll stay for lunch!" Mr. Able said, his voice firm like it had been as a schoolteacher, "You clearly aren't eating enough. We will talk after we eat."

Ash smiled and gratefully accepted the invitation to an early luncheon. Over the meal, they talked about nonconsequential things, memories from long ago. To Ash, it felt like having his father again.

He ate with gusto; there was a real pleasure in eating food he hadn't prepared. Every morsel was delicious, and with every bite Ash felt refreshed in his soul.

After the meal Mr. Able gave Ash a serious look, "Now, let's go into my office. I have a feeling we need to have a long talk."

The two of them went into the study where Ash's eyes were instantly drawn to a portrait of Mr. Able and someone who looked very familiar.

"Finn?" Ash looked at the painting and talking to himself.

Mr. Able heard Ash however and looked at him with a very curious expression, "What did you say?"

"Oh, that man you are with looks like someone I know." The likeness was uncanny, the same broad shoulders, dark hair, and the artist had even captured some of the dazzling ability of his blue eyes. Although, the man in the portrait appeared closer to eighteen instead of the twenty-five year old that Ash had met. It was almost annoying how at eighteen years old he still looked manlier than the twenty-year-old Asher did.

"You called him Finn?"

Ash felt embarrassed, maybe he had mistook the person in the portrait, lately Finn had been on his mind a lot, "I was in the forest the other day and met someone named Finn who looked a lot like this man."

Mr. Able thought for a moment, stroking his white beard, "Well that is interesting."

"Is it the same person?"

Mr. Able smiled, "I'm sure it is, there isn't one in a thousand like him."

"Could you tell me more about him?"

Mr. Able looked at Ash with a wide smile, "Finn's mother is a distant cousin of mine and Finn was one of my pupils."

Ash remembered that when he had first started attending school, Mr. Able hadn't been at the school much because he'd worked as a private tutor.

Mr. Able smiled thoughtfully, "This is very interesting."

"Really?" Ash wasn't sure what he meant.

"Don't worry about that now. For now we need to focus on your business."

Ash was sorry to have to give up the subject of Finn just as he was learning something new. However, he didn't want to impose too much on Mr. Able.

They talked for some time; Mr. Able made Ash explain in detail all the particulars of how the property had been handled by Mr. Hower and the way the inheritance had been stolen. Ash was very uncomfortable when Mr. Able asked him to explain the way that the family had been treating Ash. It was hard to explain it all; things that didn't bother Ash anymore really bothered Mr. Able. After Ash was finished telling everything, including all his fears about the way he was dishonoring his father's memory, Ash felt exhausted and cross. Actually hearing everything all at once, Ash found himself angry at everything had happened, even mad with himself for letting so much of it happen.

Mr. Able however, said very little, only prodding Ash occasionally. After the whole story was out Mr. Able sighed deeply.

"I have burdened you with this." Ash felt guilty, seeing the frail shoulders of his teacher slump.

"No." Mr. Able looked up, "Let us not cast blame on either of us. You feel as if you are at fault and I feel as though this is my fault. I should have taken better care of you. I knew some of what was happening when they first took you from school. I could have done something then." He sighed again, "But do not blame me and I do not blame you. The real fault belongs elsewhere. Instead, let us focus our energy on a plan."

Ash nodded, it was hard, but Mr. Able was right that blame wouldn't help solve things. "What do you think I should do?"

Mr. Able laughed, "Well what I think you should do is kick them out and then damn the consequences."

Ash looked startled.

Mr. Able continued, "However, I know your tender heart would not be at ease with such a solution. Let me think on it for a bit."

Ash nodded, this was not something that should be done without any thought.

"I am going to meet with a lawyer too, see what sort of scheme your stepmother had to take the inheritance. I will send word when I have a plan." Mr. Able gave Ash a serious look, "If something should happen in the meanwhile, anything out of the ordinary or strange, you must come here right away."

Again, Ash agreed. It felt good to have an advocate. Even though he was troubled at the steps he had taken today, his heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.