"What's in the wagon?" the soldier asked.

Lucas didn't answer. He slowly tightened the reins so the horses pulling the wagon would come to a full stop. His heart began to thunder with anxiety inside his chest. The Wizard's Guard had the potential to spoil everything for he and Glinda's fight against the Wizard of Oz. He wouldn't hesitate to fight them to the death if need be. He didn't answer.

"What's in the wagon?" the soldier asked again with higher volume and insistence.

No. Not now. Never.

He'd cut down every single one of them to bits before showing him the girls. They were extremely precious and valuable cargo to Glinda. They just couldn't stop him or find out. Or could they? The girls could be murdered; but he would not allow them to unless they killed him first. Maybe that would buy them just enough time to get to the magic tunnel in Nimbo that went to Glinda's castle.

Lucas looked around and took a quick inventory of all the soldiers there. At least Eamonn was not standing amongst them.

Eamonn.

Eamonn had once been his best friend but now they were mortal enemies because of his so-called betrayal leaving the Wizard's Guard. Eamonn felt like some predatory animal who prowled after him over the past couple years. He was relentless. Clearly he sought revenge for his decision to leave the Wizards Guard and marry Glinda. He was always the first person in mind whenever there was any encounter or his chance encounter with the Wizard's Guard since his exit. But they had not seen each other since Lucas left.

A soldier stood in front of his horse on purpose.

"I suggest you let me pass," Lucas growled at him.

A strange humming sound began. Lucas wondered for a moment if the wagon had rolled over some kind of bee nest. Then he realized it was coming from the girls inside the wagon. He quickly peeked inside the wagon. The girls had joined hands in a criss cross manner. They were all shaking with odd rapid eye movements and hummed like a swarm like wasps. Magic. They sensed the danger outside the wagon and were trying to help defend him.

"Show me now or I'll cut you down, I swear..eeeaaah!"

Suddenly, the soldier nearest to the wagon outside broke off from what he was saying with a shriek of terror. The surface of the eyes became all black. Then blood began to drip from the edges down his cheek. He instinctively grabbed at his eyes and whimpered in horror. The girls' magic was helping to defend him.

"What is it?" Another soldier nearby asked but was not answered.

Other soldiers began to attack him lunging forward with their swords. Lucas quickly became engaged in a clash of steel swords with his own.

Another soldier was plagued by the defensive magic of the girls in the wagon and screamed in horror,

"Ah! My eyes!"

He noticed some of the other soldiers were plagued with the same magical curse of blood dripping from their eyeballs. Swords continued to clash together with Luca's sword. He cut down man after man fighting for the girls.

Suddenly, a piercing pain stabbed deep into his left side.

"Ah-ugh!" Lucas cried out.

Then a soldier roughly jerked the long blade out of his flesh. Lucas groaned and began to feel light headed. His knees felt wobbly and the world felt like it was spinning. Perhaps this was the beginning of the end for him.

He must warn the girls. They must escape and get to Glinda. Would they make it to the magical tunnel in Nimbo without him?

He staggered toward the wagon and inhaled a big breath shakily as best he could. A fiery pain throbbed inside his chest from the stab wound. Lucas looked down at his hand and was disturbed to see it covered in his own blood.

Someone shouted, "Don't kill him. Let's string him up!"

Lucas staggered to wagon and shouted desperately,

"Girls! Run!"

Glinda. He felt like such a failure to her. He remembered the magical secret keeper ring she gave him before he left to gather and take the girls to Nimbo. Hopefully most if not all of them could get to that secret magical tunnel to Glinda's castle in Calcedon.

Glinda's crystal blue eyes had stared steadily into his eyes and she told him,

"Roan, listen carefully. I want you to wear this secret keeper ring during the journey for me. Listen. IF you are captured in transit then you must open the top of this ring, swallow the pill and one of my spells shall be immediately cast upon you. Do this ONLY as a last resort if you deem it necessary to protect our secrets. Do not open it unless the girls or you are about to be captured. Do you understand me?"

"Yes. I understand, my love."

Lucas labored for air and the world continued to spin. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult. Every inhale and exhale felt torturous causing the stab wound to flare in excruciating pain. He gasped and tried holding the wound while his feet stumbled on the yellow road. He felt a disturbing sensation of warm, wet blood seeping through his fingers.

A soldier had said something about stringing him up. He wondered if the girls had escaped but he was unable to pivot his body around to see as the pain and dizziness seemed to increase by the second. It definitely felt like the right timing to open the ring in case he somehow survived and needed Glinda's secrets protected.

He lifted his bloody hand and began to open the top as she had instructed. There was a pill he needed to swallow. He unfolded the metal flaps with mother of pearl shell inlay and found the pill tucked inside just as Glinda had said.

"What's he got?"

"Don't let him swallow it!"

Lucas quickly and successfully swallowed it with a loud gulp. A moment later, a soldier hurriedly lunged toward him and smacked the right side of his face with the metal bracers around the wrists of his Wizard's Guard uniform. Ugh! He groaned in pain.

Lucas felt himself tumble to the ground as the wind was knocked out of him. Soldiers now kicked him from all sides. Lucas felt a strange fog swirl inside his skull and his mind went blank.

"Tis a shame we can't tar and feather him!"

"Yeah, a real fucking traitor to the Wizard's Guard."

"Skin him alive!"

"Burn him!"

"No! No, we haven't got time. We've still got to get up the hill to Nimbo!"

"Just string him up to that Nimbo sign! He's nearly dead. He doesn't deserve to die that fast."

"If we can't tar and feather him, then I say drag him through the mud or horse shit, and cover him in hay for all to see."

"Yeah - everyone shall see what happens to traitors of the Wizard and supporters of Magic!

Lucas completely blacked out with another smack to his head and didn't become conscious until a day later. He was hanging and couldn't feel any sensation in his arms. They were just numb. Every breath was tight and excruciating pain flared on his left side. Occasionally an annoying pecking sensation happened on random places on his head. There were obnoxious scavenger crows making a cacophony of squawks around him.

Pain. Searing, throbbing pain burned inside his chest. He had never felt more alone, stuck and completely confused. So many questions came across his blank mind.

Where was he?

Why was breathing so difficult?

Why couldn't he feel his arms?

Why wouldn't those damn crows stop bothering him?

Lifting his head to shake away another bloody crow he caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar person standing nearby. They were staring back at him steadily with a bewildered expression.

He wasn't sure if the person would cause him more harm or finish him off. He figured whoever it may be they were probably his only chance of survival so it was worth the risk to call out to them.

Mustering what little strength he had left he took a breath and desperately called out two words,

"Help me."

Soon the wooden sign post he was strung upon began to jiggle around in awkward small creaking movements. Lucas felt intermittent jolts of fiery stabbing pain as the post jiggled. He couldn't hold back groans of pain. Thankfully the person had begun to help him.

He heard grunting sounds behind him from a higher pitched voice. The person seemed to be a woman. He hoped the post wasn't too heavy or difficult for her to pull down. She worked at it and managed somehow to start lowering it to the ground.

The Nimbo sign post hit the ground with a loud thud and they both groaned in relief. The unfamiliar woman looked at him upside down. Her dark brown eyes were filled with genuine kindness and concern.

"You okay?"

Lucas took a breath but could first only shakily stammer in response,

"I...I..."

Words came slowly to his mouth from his blank mind. He swallowed with difficulty in his dry, parched mouth and said anxiously,

"I can't feel my arms."

The woman began to pull and tug at the barbed wire coiled tight around his wrists. She awkwardly pulled the barbed wire off and away from the torn skin. He clenched his teeth and frequent grunts and groans of pain tumbled out his lips.

Then the woman laid each of his arms down carefully over his filthy chest. She moved quickly around his supine body. He was too weak to sit up. She said nervously,

"You have a deep wound here."

Suddenly, Lucas felt an intense jolt of painful pressure on his left side. He cried out through his clenched teeth and his head shot upwards. He couldn't help it as the visceral pain made him fling his upper body backwards. His head and neck muscles tightened. He moaned and tried to take shallow breaths. It was difficult to get deep breaths because his ribcage pushed against the wound site. He felt dizziness so he closed his eyes and focused on just catching his breath. For a moment he wondered if the woman would only torture him further. Perhaps this was now his end.

Gentle hands slid behind his shoulder and back of his head. He felt the woman supporting him in pulling his body upwards off the wooden post. He tried to lift himself contracting his abdominal muscles but found himself shaking instead. The muscle contraction only aggravated the deep wound. She repositioned one of his hands to be over the dripping wound on his left side. He gasped quick, shallow breaths.

She asked him softly,

"What happened to you?"

"I..."

His mind was blank. Nothing. He frowned and told her simply,

"I don't know. I don't remember."

The woman looked very concerned. He had beautiful, twinkling brown eyes. She asked,

"How about your name?"

He frowned and tried to recall. Nothing. His mind was like full of blank, foggy nothingness. It was so frustrating and humiliating at the same time. He shook his head a little.

"What's your name?" she asked again probably thinking he had not heard her the first time,

Lucas just shook his head, feeling completely flummoxed. He managed to quietly answer, "Nnnn-no."

Suddenly, he saw a quick movement in his peripheral vision near his head. Waves of terror rippled across the surface of his skin. He was momentarily convinced whoever had done this to him was coming at him again.

Triggered by the recent trauma, he said in a frightened manner while defensively backing away,

"Noooo!"

He took rapid breaths feeling anxiety crawling across his filthy, exposed exterior. He realized it was just her hands not another person trying to harm him again. The woman paused. They made eye contact and something about the genuine compassion in her eyes made Lucas momentarily relax.

She told him softly,

"I'm just gonna check your head. I'm...a healer."

The kind woman began touching the back of his head gently with her finger tips. Lucas saw something unusual beyond her. He looked past her and saw multiple plumes of smoke up the nearest mountainside. It appeared as though a town or settlement had been burned to the ground.

He tried to calm down his shaky breaths. When he was able to steady his breathing enough, he stated while looking up at the billows of black smoke,

"I think you're too late."

The woman who saved Lucas introduced herself as Dorothy.

His mind was still frustratingly blank. Just strange, foggy nothingness filled his head every time he tried to recall any past memories. He hated feeling utterly bewildered. But somehow he knew he would never forget her name and that brought him comfort amongst the countless things he could not remember.

Her presence was like a steadying anchor in the storm waves of anxiety he felt with so many unknowns. The more moments he spent with Dorothy the more he liked her and trusted her. She was just continually kind and gentle which helped settle his nerves. He hated not being able to use his arms and hands properly. She didn't have to stop on the road to Nimbo when he initially called out to her... but she did. She saved his life.

It was probably well over two hours Dorothy spent fixing him up. She carefully wiped his face and chest down to clean off all the layers of dirt smeared upon him. He felt ashamed he couldn't do it himself. At first he was so embarrassed a strange woman was wiping him down, he intermittently closed his eyes. But as the moments went on, she had a way of making him feel at ease. She acted like it was no big deal. Every time he opened his eyes she simply had a neutral facial expression and worked willingly doing what needed to be done. He had to accept the help as his arms still felt numb and his fingers only had slight tingling sensations beginning to return to his hands.

Most of the time as she cleaned, cared for and bandaged up the wounds, he didn't speak unless she asked a direct question. He tried over and over inside his head to make sense of what had just occurred or access any past memories at all... but his head felt broken.

When Dorothy cleaned the deep stab would on his side, Lucas began shaking silently in fear. The cool water from her water flask stung the wound site. It was strangely felt like both frigid ice and a searing hot fire at the same time. He clenched his teeth tightly together.

She was very intuitive. She paused.

"Hey."

Then her hands gently rested over both his quivering hands. His fingers had not yet had all the sensation return to them but he could feel her gentle touch. She reassured him in a quiet tone,

"I am not trying to hurt you. I'm just rinsing the dirt out or it'll get infected. Okay?"

She looked at him steadily and had paused all her body movements. The wind made her dark brown hair wisps fly around her face. She continued,

"I have to get the dirt out...or it'll get worse."

Lucas nodded at her in consent and mumbled,

"Right. Go ahead, do it."

He noticed Dorothy had a strange hard white box with a red colored cross symbol on the top. She had taken it out of her rucksack to treat his wounds. It seemed to be full of whatever supplies she needed as a healer. He was not sure he had ever seen anything like it but who was to say... maybe he had. He just couldn't remember anything.

Lucas looked up and noticed there were two moons in the sky. They were far apart from each other. Dorothy finished wrapping the soft, white bandages around the stab wound in his side. Then she helped him get dressed with a shirt nearby on the ground. Lucas wondered how long he had been stuck up on the road sign post. Too long.

"This was probably yours. It was at your feet."

Dorothy showed him a long sword.

"I'm gonna put it away. Okay?"

Lucas looked down. He answered her with a head nod and quiet grunt of agreement. She carefully slid the sword into the scabbard fastened to his belt.

"It's getting dark. We should try and find some food."

"Am I coming with you?" he asked feeling anxiety swell inside him not knowing where or who he was supposed to go with to which location. He hated feeling so helpless and disoriented.

"I don't know... Are you?" she quipped back at him in a quizzical and flirtatious manner.

Lucas felt the anxiety dissipate in his gut and he respected that she was giving him the choice to decide for himself. Everything leading up to this point told him that she was a trustworthy person so he continued to go along with her in a search for some food.

He limped awkwardly with her along the yellow path until they both spotted some food left on the ground along the side of the path.

"Now that looks good."

When they got down seated near the food, Dorothy carefully fed him an apple.

"Mmm..." he voiced as he took a bite and bagan to masticate it into smaller pieces inside his mouth. Juice dribbled down past his lips into his facial hair and a small bit stuck on his chin. His brain told his arms to reach up and wipe it. But he couldn't quite manage it yet. Sensation was slowly returning to his fingers and hands. He could make a fist. However, he realized his arms were still quite numb and hung like dead weights from his shoulders.

"Could you, um..."

He couldn't quite get the verbal request out. His voice faded away in embarrassment. Dorothy looked at him and as if she could read his mind she reached up and wiped off his beard and chin around his mouth for him.

"I wish I could say I'm not usually this useless but um... maybe I am."

"You don't look useless," Dorothy reassured him.

Lucas stopped and contemplated her comment of reassurance for a moment. Then he asked curiously,

"How do I look?" he asked curiously. "I actually don't know what I look like."

"You're very h-..."

She had trailed off and not completed the answer with a shy grin. She took another bite of apple. He wondered if he hadn't heard the last word. So he asked,

"Very?"

She shook her head slightly, smiled and then changed the subject.

"We should name you. Even the dog has a name."

"Uh, well, whatever you wanna call me."

"No. No, that's...too much responsibility."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is. A name has permanence."

"Well, all the more reason."

"Well I try to avoid responsibility and permanence."

"Okay. So, what's the first name that comes to your mind?"

"I'm not doing this."

"Go."

"I can't. No."

"First name..."

"I can't. No."

"...comes to mind!"

"No. I-..."

"Right now, go!"

"Lucas!"

"Lucas?" he asked surprised raising his eyebrows. He was not quite sure he heard her correctly.

She cracked a big smile and giggled. He couldn't help but mirror her smile and then chuckle a bit with her, too. Her smile and laughter was contagious and lifted his heavy soul. She had said the name so fast when he pushed and prodded her. There must be a reason that was the first name that came to her mind.

"Is it terrible?" she asked him.

"Why Lucas?" he asked in return with a smile still lingering on his face.

"It's the town where I grew up."

"Huh... so, Lucas is home?"

"Mm-hmm."

"All right, well Lucas it is."