It had been over two years since Taren had been to Darben, but as his 
feet pounded along the road it felt like only a few days ago that he had last 
helped his father push his cart into the city.  Now, as he ascended the final 
rise before dropping down towards the shoreline, Taren was never more anxious 
to be arriving at the city.
        He had made better time than he expected.  His legs were longer than 
they were two years ago, and without the heavy cart to push along he was able 
to move much faster than he could with his father.  The food had run out two 
days ago, but he was able to buy food at a small trading station.
        He had thanked the stars that the old man had paid for the cloak in 
advance.
        He thanked the stars for a lot of things.  The image of his father’s 
shop burning swiftly to the ground was still imprinted upon his mind.  Every 
night, in his dreams, Taren watched over and over as the old man fell to the 
ground, a poisoned dart protruding from his back.  He watched as a shaky hand, 
his hand, fumbled with the locks on the doors.  He watched the door come 
crashing in as he pulled his sister through the back door.
        But the stars had been lucky as well.  Taren was able to grab Melissa’s 
pack as they raced out the back door.  The Soldiers had spent enough time 
searching the shop to allow Taren and Melissa to escape.  The money from the 
old man had kept Taren alive.  Taren still had the cloak, and as long as he did 
he knew that Melissa would stay alive.  Most fortunate of all was that by 
nightfall Taren would be with his father again.

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