Prince Sebastian
I stood on the rocky outcrop, my heart pounding as I scanned the horizon for any sign of the man who was supposed to help us. Next to me, Marcus was just as tense, his eyes darting between the distant line of trees and the approaching Valorian soldiers. They were getting closer, their armor clinking with each step, the sound growing louder in the stillness.
I could feel the pressure building, a gnawing worry that our contact wasn't going to show up. We were running out of time, and I exchanged a glance with Marcus, his expression mirroring the anxiety I felt. What if he didn't come?
The thought gnawed at me as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to keep calm. The Valorian soldiers were closer now, their dark figures distinct against the dusky sky. There were more of them than we'd anticipated, at least a dozen, maybe more, and they moved with the kind of precision that only seasoned fighters had. My heart raced, each beat a painful reminder of how little time we had left.
"He should have been here by now," Marcus muttered under his breath, his voice tight with tension. He gripped the hilt of his sword, knuckles white.
"I know," I replied, my own hand resting on the pommel of my blade. The cold metal was a small comfort, a reminder that we weren't completely helpless. But I couldn't shake the feeling of dread curling in my stomach. We were supposed to meet the man an hour ago, and now, with the Valorians closing in, it felt like we were trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Every sound seemed amplifiedâthe crunch of the soldiers' boots on the gravel, the rustle of leaves in the wind, even the distant cawing of a crow. I kept scanning the edge of the forest, hoping, praying that I'd see a figure emerge from the shadows. But the path remained empty.
"What if he's not coming?" Marcus's voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking it aloud would make it true. I didn't want to acknowledge the possibility, but it was getting harder to ignore.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to think. "We can't wait much longer. If he doesn't show, we'll have to fight the general and every soldiers ourselves."
Marcus looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and fear. "And if we can't?"
I didn't have an answer for that. I tightened my grip on my sword, the rough leather of the hilt biting into my palm. The Valorian soldiers were almost within shouting distance now. I could see their faces, stern and unforgiving, their armor glinting in the fading light. There was no more time for doubt or hesitation. We needed to make a decision, and fast.
Just as I was about to tell Marcus to prepare for a fight, a rustling sound came from the trees behind us. I whipped around, hope flaring in my chest. A figure stepped out from the shadows, moving quickly towards us. For a split second, I couldn't tell if it was friend or foe, but then I saw the familiar cloak, the way he moved with practiced ease through the underbrush. It was him.
Relief washed over me, so intense it almost made my knees buckle. "He's here," I breathed, nudging Marcus.
The man, the stranger reached us in a few long strides, his face partially obscured by the hood of his cloak. "You're late," I said, the edge in my voice sharper than I intended.
He didn't flinch at my tone. Instead, he glanced at the approaching soldiers, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Had something I needed to take care of," he replied, his voice calm, almost indifferent.
Marcus, still tense and ready for a fight, spoke up, "Where's your man? An extra body would be helpful against all these soldiers."
The stranger's lips curved into a brief, humorless smile. "Busy," was all he said, offering no further explanation.
I exchanged a quick look with Marcus. We didn't have time to press for details, but the lack of backup only added to the uncertainty of our situation. Still, we had no choice but to trust this man, at least for now. With the Valorian soldiers closing in, it wasn't like we had any other options.
We moved as one into the camp, slipping into the shadows like ghosts. The darkness was our ally, masking our approach as we crept closer to the Valorian soldiers. The stranger led the way, his movements precise and silent, his intent clear. He didn't need to speak; we all knew what needed to be done.
The first soldier never saw it coming. The stranger was on him in a heartbeat, his blade slicing through the man's throat with a sickening squelch. Blood sprayed out in a dark arc, glistening in the moonlight before it splattered across the ground. The soldier's eyes bulged in shock, his mouth opening in a silent scream as he crumpled to the dirt, clutching at the gaping wound that was already too late to save him.
Marcus and I moved in tandem, each picking our targets. I grabbed a soldier from behind, my hand clamping over his mouth to stifle any noise as I drove my dagger up under his ribs. I felt the steel slide through flesh and bone, the warmth of his blood spilling over my hand as I twisted the blade. His body went limp in my grasp, and I let him drop, already searching for my next victim.
Marcus, always the more brutal of the two of us, chose a different approach. He swung his sword in a wide arc, cleaving through the neck of a soldier with a sickening crunch. The man's head toppled to the ground, eyes still wide with shock, as his body staggered for a moment before collapsing in a heap. The blood gushed from the severed neck, pooling around the lifeless corpse in a sticky, dark mess.
The stranger was relentless, moving from one soldier to the next with lethal efficiency. His blade carved through flesh with terrifying ease, leaving a trail of carnage in his wake. One soldier tried to raise the alarm, but the stranger was on him before he could utter a sound. His blade plunged into the man's chest, and with a vicious twist, he tore it free, ripping the life from the soldier in a single, brutal motion.
The camp was a symphony of death, the air thick with the scent of blood and the faint, dying gasps of the fallen. We moved like shadows, unseen and unstoppable, each kill as swift and merciless as the last. The Valorian soldiers never stood a chance.
As we stood among the bodies, I caught my breath, feeling the adrenaline course through my veins. The stranger wiped his blade clean with the cloak of a fallen soldier, his face still half-hidden beneath his hood. Marcus grinned at me, his eyes wild with the thrill of the kill.
"Nice work," he said, nudging one of the bodies with his boot. "But I thought there'd be more of a challenge."
The stranger glanced around, his eyes narrowing. "Don't get too comfortable," he muttered. "We're not done yet."
Just as he spoke, a sharp gasp echoed from the edge of the camp. My heart skipped a beat as I turned to see a Valorian soldier standing at the edge of the clearing, his eyes wide in horror as he took in the carnage. His face paled, and before any of us could react, he opened his mouth and screamed.
"INTRUDERS! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"
The alarm spread through the camp like wildfire. Torches flared to life, casting flickering shadows across the tents as soldiers scrambled from their posts. The quiet stealth of our mission was shattered, replaced by the chaotic roar of battle.
"Damn it!" Marcus cursed, drawing his sword with a metallic ring. "So much for the element of surprise."
The stranger didn't waste time with words. He lunged forward, driving his blade through the soldier's chest before he could scream again. But the damage was done. The camp was awake, and we were outnumbered.
"Form up!" I shouted, rallying Marcus and the stranger. "We fight our way out!"
Soldiers swarmed toward us, swords drawn and eyes blazing with fury. The air was thick with the clanging of steel, the screams of the wounded, and the acrid scent of blood. I parried a sword aimed at my head, twisting my blade to catch the soldier off balance before driving my dagger into his gut. He crumpled, and I kicked him off my blade, turning to face the next attacker.
Marcus was a whirlwind of death, his sword cutting down anyone who dared approach. He fought with a savage glee, laughing as he cleaved through armor and bone. "Is this all you've got?" he taunted, his voice rising above the din of battle.
The stranger was a blur of motion, his blade a dark flash in the firelight. He moved with a deadly grace, each strike precise and lethal. He didn't say a word, but his eyes burned with cold fury as he cut down soldier after soldier.
A Valorian officer pushed his way through the fray, shouting orders to his men. "Surround them! Don't let them escape!"
I met his gaze, and for a brief moment, we locked eyes. There was no fear in his stare, only a steely determination. He charged at me, his sword raised high, but I was quicker. I ducked under his swing and slashed across his thigh, dropping him to one knee. Before he could recover, I thrust my blade through his throat, ending his command with a gurgled choke.
But the tide was turning. More soldiers poured into the camp, and despite our best efforts, we were being pushed back.
"Sebastian!" Marcus called out, his voice strained as he fended off two attackers at once. "We need to get out of here!"
I knew he was right. We couldn't keep this up much longer. The camp was teeming with Valorian reinforcements, and the odds were stacking against us.
"Fall back!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos. "To the trees! We can lose them in the forest!"
"NO! We can't leave until that general is dead!" the stranger shouted, his voice cutting through the din of battle. Without waiting for a response, he stormed off toward the heart of the camp, where the largest tent loomedâa clear sign of the general's presence.
"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath, knowing there was no turning him back now. "Marcus, stick with me!"
Marcus nodded, his face grim as he took down another Valorian soldier with a savage blow. "Right behind you, Sebastian. But if that bastard gets himself killed, I'm not sticking around to join him."
The enemy was pressing in on us from all sides, the sheer number of soldiers overwhelming. The clang of steel on steel, the shouts of the dying, and the crackling of fires consuming the camp filled the air. It was chaos, and we were losing ground fast. Each swing of my sword felt heavier, each step more labored. Marcus was faring no better, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to keep the soldiers at bay.
The stranger was a distant figure now, vanishing into the darkness of the camp, leaving us to hold off the onslaught. We couldn't fall back, not now, not with him charging into the jaws of death. But as more soldiers poured in, the weight of the fight began to crush us.
"They just keep coming!" Marcus shouted, desperation edging his voice. He parried a blow and drove his sword through the neck of a soldier, but another was already taking his place. "We can't hold them!"
A soldier broke through our defense, his sword aimed straight for my chest. I barely managed to deflect the blow, staggering back, my arms screaming in protest. Another soldier lunged at Marcus, and this time, the blow connected. He cried out as the blade sliced across his arm, blood spurting from the wound.
"Marcus!" I yelled, slashing at his attacker with everything I had left. The soldier fell, but more were closing in, and I knew we couldn't last much longer. We were being overwhelmed, and it felt like the end.
But just as I braced myself for the inevitable, a sharp whistling sound cut through the air. An arrow, swift and deadly, pierced the throat of a Valorian soldier standing mere feet from us. He dropped instantly, clutching at the shaft protruding from his neck.
I barely had time to register what had happened before more arrows followed, striking down soldiers all around us. From the darkness of the forest, figures emergedâmen, armed to the teeth, their faces set in determined grimaces. They moved with precision, their arrows finding their marks with deadly accuracy.
"Reinforcements!" Marcus breathed, a mixture of relief and disbelief in his voice. He tore a strip of cloth from a fallen soldier's tunic, hastily wrapping his wounded arm. "About damn time!"
The group of men fell upon the Valorians like a storm. Their leader, a burly man with a scar running down his face, charged into the fray, wielding a battle-axe with terrifying efficiency. He cleaved through the soldiers, cutting a path toward us with brutal strength.
I didn't need to be told twice. With renewed vigor, Marcus and I fell in beside the newcomers, our blades slicing through the enemy ranks. The tide had turned, and this time, it was the Valorians who were being overwhelmed. They fought back with the desperation of cornered animals, but the stranger's men were relentless, their onslaught unyielding.
The battle raged on, but with our new allies, the Valorian soldiers began to fall one by one. I caught sight of the stranger once more, his hood now thrown back, revealing a face etched with fury. He was cutting his way through the camp, his eyes locked on the general's tent, where a group of elite guards had gathered, forming a final line of defense.
"Sebastian, we've got to help him!" Marcus shouted, dispatching another soldier with a swift thrust.
We pushed forward, cutting down the last of the soldiers in our path. The stranger reached the tent first, his blade flashing in the firelight as he tore through the guards.
When the last guard fell, the general stepped out, his face a mask of cruel arrogance. He was a tall man, clad in ornate armor, his eyes cold and calculating. He drew his sword, the blade gleaming wickedly.
But then I saw itâjust beyond the general's looming figure, the stranger lay on the ground, blood seeping from a wound in his side. He was breathing, but the pain was evident in the way his hand clutched his side, his earlier ferocity now replaced with a grim determination to survive.
"Arney, you okay?" the leader of our allies shouted, his voice thick with concern as he caught sight of the fallen man.
The strangerâArneyâgritted his teeth, struggling to push himself up. "I'm fine," he growled, though the strain in his voice said otherwise. His gaze was locked on the general, hatred burning in his eyes. "Just... finish this."
The general's lip curled in disdain as he approached Arney, clearly reveling in the sight of his enemy brought low. "So, this is how it ends for you?" he sneered. "Groveling in the dirt like the rat you are?"
I could feel the tension in the air, a moment stretched taut between life and death. Without thinking, I stepped forward, gripping my sword tighter. "Get away from him," I warned, my voice barely steady, "or you'll regret it."
The general turned his gaze on me, amusement flickering in his cold eyes. "My, my, my... We have royalty among usâ"
But before he could finish his sentence, Marcus was already moving, his sword flashing as he lunged at the general. The strike was quick, but the general was quicker, sidestepping and delivering a brutal kick to Marcus's side, sending him sprawling to the ground.
"Marcus!" I shouted, panic tightening my chest as I rushed to his side. But the general was relentless. He was already upon us, his sword raised high, aimed for a killing blow that would end it all.
Time seemed to slow as the blade descended, a flash of steel that promised death. Desperation surged through me, and I grabbed my sword, raising it just in time to block the strike. The impact reverberated through my arms, almost knocking the weapon from my grasp. The general's strength was overwhelming, his sneer only deepening as he pressed down harder.
"You think you can save him, prince?" he hissed through gritted teeth. "You'll both die here, like the rest of your pathetic kingdom."
Just as the general's sword descended, an arrow whistled through the air, striking the blade and knocking it off course. The general staggered back, momentarily off balance. I glanced up to see one of our allies, bow in hand, already nocking another arrow.
Arney used the distraction to drag himself up, one hand still pressed to his wound, while the other clutched his sword. "You're not getting away," he snarled, forcing himself to stand despite the agony etched on his face.
The general's eyes narrowed, fury replacing his earlier arrogance. "You'll regret that," he hissed, raising his sword once more.
But this time, we were ready. With Marcus back on his feet, and our allies closing in, the general was finally outnumbered. He fought like a man possessed, his strikes precise and deadly, but the odds were no longer in his favour.
Arney moved in with a ferocity that belied his injuries, his sword slashing through the air with a deadly intent. The general blocked his attack, but it was clear that the tide had turned. Arrows rained down from our allies, forcing the general to split his focus, and in that moment of distraction, Arney struck.
With a roar of effort, Arney's blade sliced through the general's defenses, driving deep into his chest. The general's eyes widened in shock, a gurgling sound escaping his lips as he stumbled back, blood pouring from the wound.
He dropped to his knees, clutching at the sword embedded in his chest, his arrogance finally giving way to fear. "No... this can't be..."
But it was. With one final, brutal twist of his blade, Arney ended it. The general collapsed to the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the night sky, his reign of terror finally over.
Arney staggered back, breathing heavily, his face pale from the blood loss. The leader of our allies rushed to his side, supporting him before he could collapse.
"You did it," the leader said, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and admiration. "The fuckers dead."
Arney nodded, his gaze still fixed on the fallen general. "For Winston," he whispered, his voice laced with exhaustion. "The prince is safe now."
The leader quickly turned his attention to Arney's wounds, noticing the blood seeping through his clothing. "Get Peter here!" he called out urgently to one of his men. "Arney's losing blood!"
I knelt beside Arney, the man who had fought so fiercely at our side, and felt a wave of gratitude for his bravery. "Arney, is it?" I asked, my voice low, hoping to keep him conscious and focused.
Arney's eyes shifted to meet mine, a faint, tired smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah," he replied, his voice strained. "Didn't think I'd end up like this, though."
"You saved us," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You saved the prince. The kingdom is forever in your gratitude"
The leader of our allies shook his head, cutting in with a stern look. "We don't need the kingdom's help," he said firmly, his eyes narrowing. "So I suggest you leave us alone now."
"Come on, we're all on the same side here!" I protested, frustration creeping into my voice. "We just fought together. Arney needs our help."
The leader crossed his arms, his expression unwavering. "Your gratitude doesn't mean much to us. We fight our own battles. And if you think the kingdom will come through for us, you're mistaken. They've abandoned people like us."
I felt a wave of anger rise within me, but I kept my voice steady. "You're wrong. We can unite against the Valorians. Together, we're stronger."
"Leave us," the leader spoke, his tone firm. "We ain't soldiers."
"You sure fought like ones today," Marcus called out, stepping closer. He looked between me and the leader, his brow furrowed. "This isn't the time for divisions. We just took down that general together."
The leader shot Marcus a glare, but there was an edge of respect in his eyes. "We don't need your pity. We have our own way of handling things. You're better off leaving us to our business."
Arney let out a pained cough, bringing our attention back to him. "Cliveâ" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Wait, Clive?" I interrupted, my heart racing. "You're Clive?"
"Who are you?" the leader spoke, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinised me.
"The innkeeper said you know things," I said, desperation seeping into my tone. "We'reâ"
"I don't help royal scum," the leader shot back, his voice cold and dismissive.
"Come on, please," I pleaded, urgency building inside me. "I've been looking for him for five years. You're the only hope I've got."
"Go back to the kingdom, soldier. I can't help you," the leader replied, his tone cold and dismissive.
"Please, I beg you. I'll give you whatever you wantâmoney, weapons, menâI don't care. Name your price!" I cried out, desperation spilling from my voice.
The leader paused for a moment, clearly weighing my words. "You're lying. What can a mere soldier give?"
"Clive," Arney coughed, his voice strained and weak. "You can'tâYou can't betray him like this. You know what they will do to him."
My heart raced at Arney's words. Did they know who I was talking about? Could they possibly have any idea where Matthew's went after breaking out? Clive's expression shifted, a flicker of recognition crossing his face, but he quickly masked it with a hardened glare. I needed to push through this moment.
"I'm not a soldier," I insisted, frustration seeping into my voice. "I can give you triple the offer I made."
Clive stood there, tall and imposing, but I noticed the way his shoulders sagged slightly, as if the weight of his past was pressing down on him. There was a weariness in his eyes that belied the defiance in his stance. He was a man who had seen too much, and for a moment, I thought I might break through that barrier.
"We're looking for a man," Marcus added, stepping forward with a determined look. "He's this tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. His name is Matthew."
As I watched Clive, I could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, the flicker of emotion giving way to a mask of indifference. He physically wavered, just for a heartbeat, and I seized that moment. "You know him, don't you?" I pressed, desperation creeping into my voice.
On the ground, Arney began to beg, his voice barely more than a whisper, but the urgency was palpable. "Clive, please," he rasped, struggling to sit up despite the pain. "Don't let them take him. You know what they'll do to him. We can't let that happen."
Arney's eyes glistened with desperation as he pleaded, his hands trembling as he gripped the earth beneath him. I could see the blood staining his shirt, a stark reminder of the battle we had just fought, and it drove home the urgency of our situation.
"You know him?" I asked again, my voice rising with hope. "Please, tell me where he is!"
With a sudden burst of determination, Arney staggered to his feet, wincing as pain shot through him. His body trembled, but he refused to collapse back onto the ground. "You can't take him" he wailed, his voice breaking. "It was a mistake, it was the fucking bitches fault, he's done nothing wrong" The raw emotion in his words echoed through the clearing, cutting through the tension that hung in the air like a thick fog.
His sudden outburst made me realize just how much he knew, how close he must have been to Matthew. My heart raced with questions: How long had he been with him? What had they gone through together? I could sense the urgency in Arney's plea, the fear for his friend palpable in the air around us.
Clive's expression shifted, the hardened facade beginning to crack under the weight of Arney's desperation. I could see him wavering, caught between his own reservations and the loyalty he felt for a friend. "Arney, stop!" Clive finally said, his voice low but firm. "You're in no condition toâ"
"I don't care!" Arney interrupted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I won't let you take him."
"Arney," Peter called out, urgency creeping into his tone, "You're bleeding out!"
"I won't hurt him, Arney," I said, trying to reassure him. "I just want to find him, that's all."
Just then, Arney collapsed to the floor, his body giving in to exhaustion and blood loss. His limbs seemed to lose all strength, crumpling beneath him as he gasped for breath. Blood continued to seep from the wounds on his shirt, soaking the earth beneath him and forming dark patches against the dirt. His face, once filled with fervent resolve, was now pale and glistening with sweat, his brow furrowed in pain.
"Shit Arney" Peter called out, instantly preparing the bandaged for his wound.
"He goes by the name Winston," Clive said, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding us. "Bloody begged us to get here to stop Arney from dying."
Hope surged within me, filling the void of fear and uncertainty that had gripped my heart. The weight of desperation began to lift as I clung to the flicker of possibility; finally, I had a leadâa name, a connection to where Matthew could be.
"So he was with you? Just now?" I asked, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside me.
"Yeah, he was," Clive replied, his voice laced with frustration. "Fucking had a panic attack when I told him I ain't sending no one to save Arney."
"Ahhh!" Arney cried out in pain, the sound cutting through the moment like a knife. "Please, no!"
My heart ached at the thought of Matthew suffering, alone and frightened. What hardships must he have endured since breaking free from the castle? I could only imagine the torment he had faced in the absence of his brother.
"How do we know you'll give us what we want?" Clive challenged, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Just then a man in royal robes arrived startling everyone. The messenger's eyes darted between me and Clive, panic etched across his face. "Prince Sebastian!" he exclaimed, falling to one knee, breathless from the urgency of his message. "A letter from General Hector at the front lines! It's from the kingdomâurgent news!"
My heart dropped. I barely heard the rest as he unfolded the letter, its edges crinkled and worn. "The princess has given birth!" he announced, a mix of excitement and trepidation in his voice. "You have a son, Your Highness and are expected at the Castle."
Fuck! Why now?
Clive's expression shifted from defiance to shock, his eyes widening as the weight of my identity hit him like a physical blow. "You're... you're the prince?" he stammered, taking a step back as if the revelation had made me dangerous.
The sudden fear in Clive's demeanor sent a shiver down my spine. "Clive, listenâ" I began, but he was already shouting for his men.
"Get Arney!" he barked, urgency creeping into his voice. "We need to move, now!" His men rushed forward, lifting Arney gently, but with urgency, cradling him between them.
"Clive, wait!" I called out, desperation coloring my tone as they began to retreat. "We need to know where Matthew is!"
But Clive shook his head, fear etched across his face. "You think I want to cross the prince? No, thank you!" He turned.
The moment Clive and his men began to retreat, a wave of erratic energy surged through me. "No! Get back here!" I shouted, my voice rising in desperation. "You can't just leave! We need that information!"
Clive turned briefly, his expression a mix of fear and defiance. "You think I'll risk my life for royal scum?" he spat back, anger lacing his words. But before I could respond, he lunged at me, his fist connecting with my jaw. The impact sent me staggering back, my vision momentarily blurred as I struggled to regain my balance.
"Clive!" Marcus shouted, but it was too late. Clive was already retreating into the trees, his men following closely behind, their faces set in grim determination.
I blinked away the shock and quickly regained my footing, my heart pounding in my chest. "Get back here!" I yelled, the pain in my jaw a mere distraction from the urgency clawing at my mind.
Clive glanced over his shoulder, a fleeting expression of triumph flickering across his face before he vanished into the shadows. Anger boiled within me, and I clenched my fists, the heat of the moment surging through me.
"Dammit!" I cursed, frustration spilling over. "They can't just leave! We need that information!"
"Sebastian!" Marcus stepped forward, gripping my shoulders firmly to steady me. "You need to calm down! This isn't helping!"
I shook him off, my heart racing with erratic energy. "Calm down? They just walked away with the only lead we had! I need to know where Matthew is!" My voice trembled with a mix of anger and fear.
"Sebastian, listen to me!" Marcus urged, stepping closer, his tone steady and reassuring. "We can't force them. If Clive doesn't want to help, we'll find another way. We just need to regroup and think this through."
"I can't just wait! I can't sit here while Matthew is out there alone!" I snapped, pacing in a tight circle, my frustration spilling over into erratic movements. My mind was a whirlwind, filled with images of Matthew in danger, and the thought drove me wild.
"Breathe," Marcus said, his voice low but firm. "We'll figure this out. I promise we'll find him, but we have to be smart about it."
As I took a moment to catch my breath, I felt the tension in my shoulders slowly begin to ease, though the urgency still throbbed within me. "We can't give up." I muttered, frustration giving way to determination.
"We won't," Marcus replied, his grip still firm on my shoulders. "We'll come back. We'll track them down, and when we do, we'll be ready. Just trust me."
With a reluctant nod, I finally felt some clarity return, though the restlessness within me lingered. The need to find Matthew was still there, sharp and insistent, but I knew I had to keep my head in the game. "Alright," I said, taking a deep breath to steady myself. "Let's go back and regroup."
As we turned to leave, I cast one last glance toward the trees, silently vowing that I would find Matthew, no matter the cost.