My Boss Tried to Drag Away a Barefoot Orphan Who Unlocked the Town's Sacred Sword — Then His Son Handed Me the Sealed Letter That Ended His Family's 50-Year Reign
Darkness had swallowed Pine Ridge, thick and absolute. Toby and I huddled in an abandoned wood shed near the winding creek, the air smelling of damp earth and old timber.
The day’s cold reception had driven us to this desolate spot. Clara had given us a small, wrapped meal earlier, her eyes full of unspoken worry.
A gust of wind rattled the loose door. Toby stirred beside me on the pile of old blankets, his breath shallow in his sleep. I sat upright, gripping a heavy iron poker from the corner. My heart hammered against my ribs.
The creak of the door slowly opening sent a jolt through me. A figure, silhouetted against the pale sliver of moonlight, stepped inside.
“Arthur?” a low voice whispered.
I raised the poker, my knuckles white. “Who’s there?”
The figure stepped fully into the shed. It was Elias Croft, Harlan’s younger son, the forge overseer. His face was etched with a weariness that looked older than his years.
He held up his hands, one of them clutching a small cloth bundle. “Easy, Arthur. It’s just me.”
I lowered the poker, my grip still tight. I expected a fight, a confrontation, an extension of his father’s cruelty. This was a Croft, after all.
But Elias walked past me, knelt, and gently placed the bundle on the rough-hewn table. He unwrapped it carefully. Inside lay a fresh, crusty loaf of bread and a small flask of warm milk.
My stomach growled. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.
“I saw the posters,” Elias said, his voice quiet. He didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed on the sleeping boy. “It’s… not right.”
I remained silent, watching him, trying to gauge his true intentions. Crofts rarely offered kindness without an agenda.
Elias straightened up, finally meeting my eyes. “Julian sent me for lumber earlier. Upriver.”
He paused, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “I saw him. Near the old Montgomery falls, three miles up-mountain.”
“Saw him do what?” I pressed, my voice flat.
Elias hesitated, then swallowed hard. “He was holding something. A pair of child’s boots. Muddy, well-worn.”
My breath hitched. Toby’s feet were bare when he touched the sword.
“He threw them into the rapids,” Elias continued, his voice barely audible. “Watched them disappear downstream. He stood there for a long moment, then just walked away, whistling.”
A cold dread seeped into my bones. Not just abandoned, but deliberately discarded. Julian hadn’t stumbled upon Toby. He had *taken* him, stripped him of his only protection, and left him to die in the wilderness.
He was Harlan’s son, alright. Ruthless.
“Why are you telling me this, Elias?” I asked, my voice rough.
Elias picked at a splinter on the table. “Because I saw the boy in the square. He looked… terrified. And Julian… he’s capable of worse.”
He looked at Toby again, a strange flicker of disgust and pity in his eyes. “My father, he’d have you believe the boy just appeared out of nowhere. A ghost. But Julian put him there. Left him to the elements.”
He pushed the bread and milk closer to me. “Eat. Keep the boy warm.”
Then, without another word, Elias turned and slipped out into the midnight chill, leaving the door slightly ajar and the undeniable truth hanging heavy in the air.
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