"What happened to you?" the green-eyed boy asked, looking at the beautiful broken man before him.
"I was left in the darkness, so darkness is what I became."
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—Tree roots gleam with an eerie phosphorescent light. The mist closes in. Harry looks around the forest, unnerved by the haunting silence and the deep shadows. Reluctantly he focuses on Zayn, trying to take his mind off the terrors around him. He took the time to notice the man's features—Zayn had deep brown eyes with lighter hues, like caramel, so much strength remaining despite the years of weathering; his hair was the color of a crow's wings, so dark and sleek with green at the tips of each strand; he was rugged-looking, athletic build, with warm tan skin and traces of black ink that he could see on his arms. He then studied Dylan—he looked to be his same age, with light honey brown eyes and short brown hair; his nose was cute as a button as he would say; he had a lean build with light sienna skin. Harry thought both of them were very handsome and a small part of him felt oddly safe in their protection. Even though he just met them, he felt a connection.
Zayn sits on a log, taking a breath. "We'll stay the night here."
Dylan sat next to him, patting the spot next to him with a smile. A small smile made its way onto Harry's face and he sat next to him.
"What is your name?" he asked in a soft voice.
Dylan turned to him, speaking in a voice just as soft. "I'm Dylan. What is yours?"
Zayn watched, jealousy slowly creeping up his spine. Dylan could make friends with anybody if he was comfortable; it was that easy for him. Zayn didn't trust anyone; the only one he did trust was Dylan. Zayn has been hurt so many times in his life that he put up a wall, hiding his feelings, trust, and pain. He didn't know why he was jealous of the boy; it was strange to him. He pushed his jealousy away and continued to listen in.
"My name is Harry."
Harry, Zayn noted. He thought his name was perfect for him. It sounded innocent yet strong, much like him from what he's seen. He never noticed at first, but the boy had a heart-shaped birthmark on his neck—small and strawberry in color. It was unique and Zayn mentally smiled when he saw it. This boy was anything but malicious. So why did Ravenna want him so bad? Why did she want to kill him? He'd try to ask him again later.
He was brought out of his thoughts by Harry. "You haven't answered me."
Zayn's face was emotionless, "I don't recall a question."
"What is your name and where are we going?"
Zayn takes a stick, drawing a map in the dirt. He draws mountains, a forest and a village. It was very detailed, and it made Harry wonder if he was an artist at one point. Zayn points to each thing he drew, "Queen. Mountains. Dark Forest. Here. Past, there's a village."
Harry noticed the man didn't say his name but he was sure to get it out of him. One way or another.
He takes the stick from him, pointing to a different spot in the dirt. "I'm going to the Duke's Castle."
