Page 86 of Dawn of Hope

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Page 86 of Dawn of Hope

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from here.”

“No, I mean before Dawnlin. Where did you come from?”

“I grew up in Fonden a long time ago. But since being the Guardian, I’ve been to all the kingdoms, so it doesn’t really feel like any one place is home anymore. Except here. Have you ever been to Fonden?”

“No, I haven’t. I haven’t ever left Blackwood before coming here.”

“Really?” He looks confused, like something I said didn’t add up. “You seem like you know a lot about other kingdoms.”

“I do, but not because I’ve been there. I read a lot.” I leave it at that. I don’t want to give anything more away that might hint at my background.

“You should visit them someday.”

“Maybe,” I mutter. “Alright, next question.” I think for a moment before asking something I really want to know. “Was any of what you said in Blackwood true? The stuff about your sister?”

“Yes, it just isn’t true any longer. That all happened a really long time ago.”

“Is that why you found Dawnlin?”

“Yes. I wanted to help her, but…” he pauses. His throat bobs and his jaw tightens. I can see it in his eyes. He is looking for the right words. “I’m still here, and that was a long time ago. I’m sure you probably put together that a lot of us are in the same boat, not knowing if who we were here to save in the first place is still there to be saved.”

He looks down at his hands, emotion overcoming him. He probably has not had to deal with anyone asking about his past in quite some time. It touches me that he is willing to share it now, despite how painful it seems to be for him. I lift my hand and set it on his knee, squeezing it softly, and hope it is comforting. I didn’t intend to cause him any pain, I just need to know what is real and what isn’t. I don’twant to keep upsetting him, so I move on to something that is hopefully easier to answer.

“Have you enjoyed being the Guardian?”

“I have, for the most part. I wish we would have at least one person who found the cure so that more of our families could be helped, but besides that, it has brought great people into my life.” He looks at me pointedly.

“Did you want to do it?”

“Yes and no. I didn’t think anyone else that was here was ready for it, and I didn’t want it falling to Weston.”

“He was here? You didn’t bring him to the island?”

“Yes, he was here already.”

“So you know him?”

“Well enough to know that he is poison for this island and everyone on it.”

“Why hasn’t he been captured? Why not throw him in the cage and lose the key if he is just trying to get the cure for himself?”

Dane huffs haughtily. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? We all constantly are on the lookout for the Castaways. I’ve searched every inch of this island. It’s like they have vanished into thin air. We know they are still here, but…” He shakes his head. “It’s why I make sure that everyone is ready to be on their own before I send them out. No one can be unprepared. Not when it comes to Weston.”

“As if the dangers of Dawnlin weren’t enough, we have to worry about him too,” I murmur.

He shifts his head so his eyes met mine again. “You should always be prepared, but your focus should be on the cure. That is what you are here for.” His eyes are earnest, like he is imploring me to stay safe, but still accomplish my mission.

He has been so honest and answered everything so quickly, I don’t know if there was any more reason for me not to trust him. I understand why he couldn’t tell me who he was before, even if I didn’t like it atthe time. I see now how important it is keeping this place hidden from anyone whose intentions weren’t pure.

I don’t want to end this night talking about Weston, so I decide to ask something a little lighter. I lift my arm to reach across his face.

“Where did you get this?” My fingers lightly brush the scar that cuts through his lip.

He lets out a low grunt and reaches up to touch the scar, his fingertips grazing mine. I pull my hand back, but he catches it in his and holds it between us. “Sorry I keep underwhelming you with stories, but this one isn’t exciting either. I was a little boy, chasing my sister through the house. I tripped and fell into the corner of the doorway. Mother yelled at us for a while. We didn’t have the money to go see a healer, so instead, I got the scar.”

“I like the scar,” I say.




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