Young Writers Society

Chapter 32: No Talk Me I Sad

There were so many reasons not to be falling apart right now.

He needed to keep it together for Clandestine. He was among strangers, and already, they knew too much about him. Already, they were cracking him open, and he didn't like what was coming out.

It was ironic how just three weeks ago, he'd finally convinced himself he was ready to talk about everything with Clandestine, and here he was, with strangers who found him half-dead, revived him, talking about why he was wanted, and joining together to overthrow the king.

A coup. They were talking about a coup. Even if nothing had been set in stone, they were considering it, seriously. James wasn't sure if that was an insult to their original mission. An insult to Clandestine. But it had been burning a hole in his mind for years - it had just never seemed possible. He'd never known where to look, to find anyone who would actually hear him out and not turn against him. He'd been fooled and betrayed too many times to think risking it again was worth it.

For so long, he'd longed to find people he could trust, and who could trust him in return, and now he happened upon a group of mages who were ready to jump at the chance to bring about change. To actually do something, not just in word, but in action.

It shouldn't have hit him as hard as it did. There were other things to worry about. Other things that still needed to be resolved. A million other things he could distract himself with if he could just stop crying.

James stood, with his head pressed up against a tree - only the fur of his hat between his forehead and the bark - unable to hold it in. Tears streamed down his face and he sobbed, suppressing the sound of his cries under the shelter of his mittens.

Two years ago. One person had told him they would join him in killing the king, but he hadn't seen her in years.

And he didn't want that.

The Moonlight Kingdom had been built upon the dead, birthed out of war, and made its work in death. A new beginning shouldn't be marked by more death.

Maybe that was naive and foolishly hopeful of him to wish for, but that was what he really wanted. Not that it mattered what he wanted. A coup affected everyone.

Three years ago. He'd tried gathering people who would rally around his cause. And then they turned him in. He should've seen it coming.

So, so many failures in-between. So many needless losses. He couldn't even count them.

He fell to his knees and curled over at the base of the tree, with his face hidden in his hands, up against the snow.

He heard the footsteps slowly approaching behind him, but he tried to pretend they weren't there. He wanted to pretend he was alone. He could cry, get it out, go back dry-eyed, and no one would be the wiser.

"Go away," he croaked.

He heard the snow crunch under heavy feet as they drew closer. He knew it was Bo. James rubbed his eyes furiously before he finally turned to look up at him. He couldn't make out Bo's face through his tear-blurred vision in the dark, but Bo was holding out what looked like... a handkerchief.

James stared at it, barely keeping back another cry, and sniffled. He took it, and wiped his eyes and nose, trying to keep his lip from trembling pitifully.

"It's okay to cry," Bo said softly.

"No, it's not," James muttered. "Not right now."

"Sadness always has bad timing," Bo said, still gentle. "We're not there yet. It's okay."

James sniffed again, and swallowed. He dabbed his eyes one last time, partially to dry them, and partially to warm his face. The tears were cold on his cold-chapped cheeks.

He held the handkerchief back out to Bo, and Bo pocketed it away.

"I've got another for backup," Bo said. "In case you need it."

James pursed his lips and stood up, brushing the snow off his pants and coat. His voice still felt fragile, teetering on the edge of a sob.

It hit him suddenly. Bo was being kind, and so much more patient than he ever deserved, and James was being... ungrateful.

"Thank you," he rasped.

Bo nodded, looking like he didn't know what to do with his hands. James had an instinctive feeling. The kind that people who don't want to be touched feel when someone else wants to embrace.

"Do you want a hug?" Bo asked.

He knew it.

James tensed at the word, and he looked out into the forest. He couldn't see the camp anymore.

"...No," he said stiffly.

It was no surprise that he didn't get hugged very much, but something happened over the last five years where they just felt different. He knew they were supposed to be a comfort, but he just felt... trapped.

Bo nodded with understanding. Or what James hoped was understanding.

"You're not weak, you know," Bo said. "For crying. And having emotions."

James felt like he tensed even more. This was why he wanted to cry alone. So he could avoid all of this.

Bo watched James for a moment, and James fought to push it all back down. Bo started to turn and nodded back in the direction they came. They should go back. James followed behind, slowly.

When the camp started to come into view in the white moonlight, reflecting off the snow, James saw something move in the corner of his eyes. He whirled around, and saw Dinny, standing at his feet.

James looked at Dinny, then at Bo, then back at Dinny.

Dinny didn't say anything.

"... What?" he asked.

Dinny rushed forward and hugged his legs. James froze.

"Sorry," she said in common.

James took in a sharp breath, trying to figure out how to escape her grip without force. He didn't know what she was sorry for.

Thankfully, she pulled away quickly. She reached into the pocket of her coat and held out Sticky, the toad.

The toad had a little knitted jacket. And a hat, with a string that went around the toad's chin.

It was... cute.

"Sticky. Com..." Dinny looked to Bo and said a few words in goblin. Bo nodded.

"She says Sticky is good at comforting," Bo said. "...When you're sad."

Dinny held out Sticky, pushing him a little closer, indicating for James to take the toad.

James hesitantly reached out and gingerly held the toad in his hands. Sticky then folded his legs and arms under him, so he was nestled in the palm of James's mitten.

He looked again, to Bo and Dinny, feeling that, of all social situations, this was one he was not prepared for. Not at this point in his life.

He took in a deep breath and knelt so he was at Dinny's eye level.

"Thank you, Dinny," he said.

Was a toad going to cure all of his problems? No. But it was oddly comforting, holding the little thing in his hands. Maybe only because he was told it would be so.

James gave the toad a pet on the head before handing it back to Dinny, and Dinny smiled.

"James," she said.

"Yes."

Dinny stared at him, and then looked back up at Bo to help translate. She said a few things this time.

Bo squatted down next to the two of them.

"She... she wants you to know that she's sorry for hurting you and Clandestine, and she wants to make amends. She knows it might take time to forgive, but she wants to be friends, not enemies."

James looked from Bo to Dinny, and he saw how her eyes were wide, searching his face for a reaction. Expectant.

James mustered a small, sad smile.

He'd let go of his anger towards goblins a long time ago. That was one thing, at least, he had moved on from.

"I'd like that," he said. And, however uncharacteristically, held out his hand for Dinny to shake.

Her mitten was practically swallowed by his, but they shook on it, and the worry melted off of Dinny's face, replaced with a relieved smile.

As they let go, Sticky croaked, filling the brief silence between the three of them.

"Well, I hate to break up a good moment like this--" Bo said, his words hushed. "But it's late, and you two really should get to sleep." He looked to Dinny. "Or back to sleep, if you were even sleeping before."

Dinny shook her head defensively and pocketed Sticky away. James couldn't help but agree.

He was exhausted.