Here's chapter 2 of The Curse Of Fate. I think there's going to be more chapters than I previously anticipated since I'm shrinking each ones length.
Oh, and to avoid confusion. When I revised the last chapter I added the learning of the boy's name (it's William).
The Curse Of Fate ch. 2.
William reacted quite well to his change in surroundings. He’d never left the village in his eight years of existence and was fascinated by the forest that surrounded my home.
I barely saw him the first few days he spent with me, for he was always exploring the flora and fauna of the new world he’d been let loose upon. Despite the fact we’d just met, I received much joy from watching him run and play with such enthusiasm. I would never admit it to anyone, but living like a hermit for so many years had left me lonely, and to have someone keep me company was a welcomed comfort.
After a week things began to calm down. He became more tame, and I didn’t have to worry about him getting into any trouble. I still hadn’t told him why he was here, and he kept pestering me to do so. But I refused each time, and, regretfully, I even snapped at him once or twice. He did, however, being the jolly boy he was, forget about it right away.
One night when I was pondering the boy’s future, I heard a scream come from his room. I jumped up and ran to his bedside. I found him sitting up in a cold sweat. He was panting heavily and staring off into the distance. When I was noticed, he threw himself into me, looking desperately for comfort.
I was quite surprised and not sure what to do. For you see, when I was but a child I was taken from my family to be trained by the kingdom’s warlock. My master had been a cold, unsociable man, so I never learned the art of comfort.
I awkwardly put my arms around William and tried my best to calm him. I tried to remember what my mother had done for me, but it was so long ago that my memory no longer held it.
Despite my efforts, William still shook violently. I was angry with myself for not knowing how to help this boy. All I knew was wizardry, and that wasn’t enough. If only I could take the pain and let William be at ease. Then I remembered a spell.
I quietly recited the words and placed my hand on William’s head. He didn’t notice. All he did was push up against my harder.
I felt the memories of his dream slowly flow from his mind and into my fingertips. I felt the terror the memories had the capacity to give as they flowed up my arm. I felt William stop shaking as the memories merged with my mind.
I saw the boy’s dream.
I saw a younger version of William sitting by a woman with a bulging stomach. She was reading a letter to him with a tears streaming down her cheeks. My view suddenly switched to that of William’s. I was looking up at the woman as she whimpered, “Daddies dead. H-he fought for the kingdom. We should be proud.”
The vision went forward in time and I saw William talking to the woman again. Her stomach was considerably larger. “You might get a little brother soon,” she said with little happiness. “Or maybe a sister.”
Once again, the vision skipped forward in time. The woman was on her back with her legs elevated, screaming in pain. There was a man in front of her saying, “Push a little harder! Just a bit more. Damn, the legs are coming out first.” I saw William over in the corner of the room. His hands were clapped over his ears and his eyes were tightly shut.
Another jump in time. I saw William standing still, his head down, his face emotionless. There were two woman a ways off talking softly, but I could still hear them.
“Poor boy. His father dying in the war, his mother dying in labor.”
“I know. It’s too much for a boy his age to handle. Did the baby survive?”
“No, it was a miscarriage. The baby was already dead.”
The vision ended abruptly and left me in shock. I couldn’t believe a boy could dream up something so horrible. I looked down at William. He was fast asleep with a serene look upon his face. He looked so innocent.
I realized that no one like William could dream up something like that. It was his past; his early childhood. For the first time in years, a single tear escaped from my eye, running down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away and pulled myself together.
I carefully put William back into his bed so he wouldn’t reawaken and then went back to my own. The images of his dream stayed with me and kept me awake for hours.
After that incident, William never woke up screaming again.
