Tipping the Scales

4

"They're here!"

Screams rang out as smoke and fire rose into the night sky. Lukas lay helpless on the floor, unable to move. A smouldering wooden beam pressed down on his hip, shooting pain coursed from the point of contact. His parents were somewhere nearby in the burning inferno, their cries of anguish all but ceased. Through the smoke, Lukas made out inhuman figures in strange armour screaming with pleasure as they set fires. A flag, adorned by a white stag riding a crashing wave, billowed in the rising heat, dancing precariously close to the smouldering flames surrounding it. The wall of flames parted, allowing a figure through. The dark silhouette approached him, unfazed by the blaze surrounding him. Unfamiliar arms reached towards him -

Lukas woke with a start.

He reached back, tenderly feeling for the source of throbbing pain shooting through his head. He was surrounded by darkness. Only a dim white light illuminated cave walls around him. It must be night.

He climbed to his feet, though his legs crumpled, his body still recovering from being unconscious. He leveraged himself slowly against the cold stone walls of the stone room as life began to pump through his stiffened muscles once again. He called out weakly for his companion to no response. He reached for his waist but found his sword was missing, as was his rucksack, containing four days rations.

Lukas' only concern, however, was finding his friend. "Jaspar!" His voice sounded louder, bouncing off the maze-like walls of the buildings around him, a painful reminder of the same trick which was used to lure him in.

He hobbled out through the doorway, squinting through the darkness for any sign of Jaspar. He called out, again receiving no answer. His teeth started to chatter.

There was a groan from an alleyway nearby, obscured in shadow. Lukas walked towards it cautiously, his hands reaching around in the darkness. He made out the vague outline of a body coming into view on the hard dirt floor.

"Jaspar? That you?"

"Lukas." Jaspar's voice was feeble and broken, but its familiar sound sent a wave of relief through his friend.

"Thank goodness." Lukas rushed as quickly as he was able - gently helping him into the light and propping him against a wall. Lukas tried scanning Jaspar for injuries, but found it was too dark to do so. "I'm sorry Jaspar, it's all my fault," dropping down next to him on the wall. "They took our swords and supplies, but we're alive, that's all that matters." He turned to his friend who began to weep.

"I just want to go home."

The two boys spent the night in one of the strange houses, unable to find their way out of the darkness. For the third night in a row, Jaspar sobbed himself to sleep. Lukas found sleep was elusive for the first night since departing Rosehallow. He could only think of how the invading chill, the loss of their supplies and how his rash decisions had led to their current situation.

Not a word was uttered the next morning. The pair simply followed the rays of the morning sun back through the network of passageways until they returned to the square. It was easy enough to find another path leading towards the exit and before too long, they were ascending the stairs back into the open air.

Lukas looked back to the far side where they had stood the day before, reminding him of how much had gone wrong since then. However, it did not need to be said that there was no turning back.

Lukas pushed the pace, despite the major setback. They were a day behind schedule and without food, water or any means of protecting themselves. Lukas was persistent still, reminding Jaspar of what would happen if they were to not make it to the register on time. "As a man, you have to protect those dear to you," he remembered Tobias used to say. Lukas knew the one thing that could overrule Jaspar's doubts were his desire to protect his family/.