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Once, in the southern Pantano region, in a port town called Ry’kenow, there lived a happy little family. The father was a human blacksmith named Charles who was quiet but hardworking and patient. The mother was an elven woman called Andraste. Her hair and eyes were as gold as the sun and her skin was like moonlight. She danced and sang with all the majestic grace that had been bestowed upon her. They loved each other more than life itself.
They had a son they called Charlie. He had his mother’s coloring, but his father’s blue eyes. He had a love of music and worked hard to learn as much as he could, performing with his mother at the parks and markets they visited, singing in a rhythmic chant as his father hammered steel, or just singing to himself to pass the time. He learned drums and his mother’s violin and she taught him songs of many races, from dwarves to dragonborn, even if he didn’t always know the language. He still memorized every word he could. Andraste taught him that music connected all beings and could be everything from a symbol of peace and love to hate and war.
Charlie was a kind child. He made friends with the neighbors, the Panadear family, who were bakers. He’d help them move things around the store in return for “the bestest cookies in Ry’kenow!”
One day, on the way to the park with his mother, he spotted a dark-haired boy, not much older than him, selling papers on the corner. Charlie was awestruck by this boy. His voice was strong and clear, and he smiled sweetly at all the ladies who passed. Charlie could feel a slight heat across his cheeks.
“Mum! I need a copper to get a paper from that boy!”
Andraste smiled wryly at her son. “Oh? Why is that?”
Little Charlie puffed out his chest. “Cause if I’m gonna marry him I should give him a good first impression!”
That took her aback, but she recovered quickly with a secretive smile. “Very well. We cannot be giving your future husband a bad first impression.” She handed him a silver instead and watched her son grin and run off, all the while thinking that his father could never know of this. She loved her husband dearly, but she knew he wouldn’t stand to have his only son involved with a boy. He couldn’t continue the line that way.
Charlie slowed down as he got closer to the boy who had completely captured his attention. He took a couple stabilizing breathes, put on his best smile, and walked up behind the boy.
“WILD FIRE CONTINUES ON IN SAPOWOOD! LARSHENITES SEEK REFUGE IN RY’KENOW!”
Charlie cleared his throat. “’Scuse me, I’d like a paper, please.”
Charlie’s heart stuttered as the boy turned his smile towards him. ‘Oh,’ Charlie thought. ‘He’s even better up close.’ He fought to keep his smile in place.
“Sure thing! Oh,” the boy leaned in conspiratorially, “the Carnival is also making it’s way here. Should be here next month. Page six, near the bottom.”
Charlie’s eyes lit up at the thought. He hadn’t been able to go to Fletching and Moondrop’s Traveling Carnival of Curiosities last time it had been through, two years ago. Maybe he’d get to go this year!
“Wow, I can’t wait! Would you like to go with me?”
The boy blinked at him before leaning back with a grin. “Well I don’t know. I don’t hardly know ya.”
“Oh,” Charlie exclaimed. “I-I’m Charlie Morris. At your service.” He ducked his head a bit as a bow.
The dark boy chuckled. “Jack Kelly, pleasure ta meet ‘cha.”
Charlie could feel himself slipping into a dopey grin, so he quickly held out his silver for the paper. “Here.”
Jack paused then took the coin. “Hold on, let me get yer change.”
“Oh, no change. It’s all yours.”
That stalled Jack. “A whole silver for a pape? It’s ain’t worth that.”
Screwing up his courage, Charlie said, “maybe not, but you are.”
Jack looked a bit shocked at that response. ‘Oh no,’ Charlie thought. ‘I’ve screwed up, oh no…’
Before Jack could get another word in Charlie proclaimed, “well, there’s my mum, I gotta go now, bye!” And promptly ran back to his mother.
Andraste watched her small son interact with his first crush. She giggled slightly, it certainly made for an amusing show. In the end, Charlie ran back suddenly, tugging on his mother’s sleeve. “Come on, Mum, we gotta get going!”
She purposefully dragged her feet in amusement. “Oh, I do not know, my son. I am in the mood for a leisurely stroll.”
“Muu-um!” He whined, trying to pull harder.
“Hey! Hey wait!”
Charlie turned to see Jack running towards them. He swallowed as Jack stopped in front of them.
“You forgot yer pape!” Jack held it out for Charlie to take.
Charlie took it, carefully. “Thanks,” he muttered.
“Also, I’d love ta go wit’ ‘cha.”
Charlie looked at him in shock.
“Ta the Carnival. I usually sell around here, so’s you can find me when it gets ta town.”
Charlie’s eye went wide and his cheeks flushed. “Oh! Ok! Sure! I’ll, I’ll see you then, then!”
Jack gave one parting grin then dashed back over to his selling spot.
Andraste gave her son a calm smile. “It seems you did, indeed, make a good first impression, my little star.”
Charlie grinned in delight at the comment. He couldn’t wait to see Jack again!
It was on their way home that Andraste told her son, “you must not tell your father that you intend to marry that boy.”
Charlie looked confused. “Why not?”
Andraste had been working out how to explain it to her son the whole day. “Your father believes that you are far to young to be making such declarations. When you are much older, then you may tell him. But not yet. Simply tell him that you made a new friend.”
Charlie nodded solemnly. “Ok, Mum. I will. Can I tell him we’re going to the carnival?”
“Of course, my little star.”
He beamed at that and dashed the rest of the way home.
It was a week later that tragedy struck.
Charlie and his mother were going to pass by Jack’s selling spot on their way home. Charlie was very excited at the prospect of seeing the boy again and was walking backwards, telling his mother, once more, all the things he couldn’t wait to do with Jack.
“Maybe he’ll wanna go to the park with me! We could go see the fountain together, I think he’d like that. The water always makes a good sound to sing to. Oh! I shoulda brought him some cookies from Amari! I know he’d like them!”
Andraste just laughed. “Be careful, my star. The streets are quite full today.”
“But Mum! He was right, he hardly knows me, we gotta spend time together! I’m gonna be his best friend! That way, even if he doesn’t want to marry me, we can still be together. Cause sometimes people just don’t like other people that way, right?”
Andraste nodded and tried to turn her son around to face the right way. “Of course. Some people are not built that way and that is perfectly alright.” She’d been trying to get that lesson into her son’s head, just in case. She didn’t want Charlie to be heartbroken if Jack was only interested in girls and was doing her best to mitigate the possible damage.
Charlie turned back around to face her. “But Mum—”
A horse and cart came barreling down the street. People screamed and jumped to the side. There was no driver to be seen as it dashed straight toward Charlie.
“Charlie, look out!”
Andraste got between her son and the horse, pulling him close.
The crash happened too fast for anyone to really know what happened. But in the end, Charlie was under his mother with his right knee crushed from the horse.
Charlie was crying, it hurt so bad. “Mum! Mum, help!”
But she didn’t move.
And she never would.
It took a week before Charles came to see Charlie at the clinic. He seemed in a daze, not even looking the doctor in the face as she explained that his son’s knee could heal properly if he was taken to one of the healing temples outside of town. If he didn’t, it was likely the boy would never walk properly again. Charles didn’t seem to hear, he just stared at his sleeping son, who looked so much like his beloved wife.
“They’re gone. My wife and son are gone.”
“Sir, your son is right here.” The doctor waved a hand to Charlie. “He’ll be just fine if you—"
“No… That’s not my boy. My boy wouldn’t have let his mother die. That’s some fae magic. A fetch. That’s not my boy.”
Charles turned and walked out.
Charlie limped home a few weeks later. He’d had no word from his father and had no idea what had happened to his mother’s body. His crutch was a little too big and he had to stick it out a bit just to move. He opened to door to their little home, but there was no-one there.
“Dad? Dad, are you here?”
Silence.
He wanted to cry again. It had been the most awful three weeks and he just wanted his dad to hug him and tell him it would be ok. But he was beginning to feel his dad was gone too.
The house was bare, everything stripped away. Except for his room, it seemed. His room had been left untouched.
He curled up on his bed and cried. No one was here. His mother was dead, and his father was gone.
“What am I supposed to do?” He sobbed. He clutched at the sun and moon necklace his mother had given him. It was all he had of her now. It was all he really had of the life they had lived.
He fell asleep there, on his bed, in an empty house.
When he woke and saw his room, he hoped that it had all been some terrible nightmare. But then he saw his crutch and it all came tumbling back down.
He didn’t leave his bed that day.
It wasn’t until the next day that he heard movement in the house. He shot up and went to see who it was but fell to the ground having forgotten his crutch.
A rough voice came from the entry way. “Hey, someone’s in here.” Then, more loudly, “whoever is in here needs to leave, this is our place now, no squatters!”
“But…” Charlie made his way to his feet to see a rather large looking man. He looked angry at first, but his face smoothed out as he saw the poor boy. “This is my room. This is my house, I’ve lived here my whole life.”
The man sighed. “Look, kid, I’m sorry, but Charles Morris sold me this house three days ago before leaving town. This is definitely my house now. I’m gonna have to tell you to leave, I got my whole family moving in tomorrow.”
Charlie stood there shaking. “He left? My dad left?” The man nodded, and Charlie choked down a sob. His dad had just left him here, no money, no home. Nothing but what he could carry from his room, which was a much smaller weight than it had been. “Why?”
The mad rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t know, kid. He said something about a fetch or something. Said he needed to get away.”
A fetch. His dad thought he was a fetch, that he wasn’t his son. Despair washed over him. He really was all alone then.
Charlie took a steadying breath. “Can you let me pack up a little? I’ll leave today, I promise.”
“Of course, of course. You got anywhere to stay, kid?”
No, but he couldn’t say that. Maybe Amari might have some idea. “Yeah, I think so. I’ll be fine.”
Charlie began looking around his room, seeing what he would be bringing, what he could manage to carry now.
“Hey, kid, what’s your name anyway?”
He paused. “Crutchie. You can call me Crutchie.”
Crutchie wandered the streets for the next couple weeks. He tried singing at the park a couple times, but every time he started, he just broke down crying. He thought about going to visit his mothers grave, but realized, abruptly, that he had no idea where it was.
He lived off scraps, mostly, though Amari was kind enough to give him bread every morning. He didn’t tell her he had no place to live anymore. He didn’t want to burden her, she already had enough people in her home, what with her daughter and her family.
Crutchie didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t dance, he couldn’t sing, he didn’t have a violin. He had no other real skills. He was going to die, cold and alone, with a father who thought he was some fae, who probably thought he’d killed his mother.
A paper was in one of the bins he was going through and he saw the date. The 25th of Mirtul. It was his birthday. His mother had said they were going to get him his first instrument today.
Crutchie sat down hard on the ground. He was tired. So very, utterly tired. There was no one that wanted him. He couldn’t work. He was useless. He was done.
Just as he was pondering how he was to die, a familiar voice called to him.
“Hey! Charlie! You’re Charlie, right? I didn’t just run up to some random…” Jack Kelly came to a stop in front of the tired, broken, and dirty boy.
Seeing Jack again was like finally seeing the sun again after months in the dark. He felt like he could breathe again. “Heya, Jack. Long time, no see.”
“Shit, Charlie, what happened?”
Crutchie struggled with that. “Got into a bit of an accident. My mum died, and I… Well…” He gestured to his slightly twisted leg.
“Damn. Damn, Charlie, I—”
“Crutchie.”
Jack blinked at that. “What?”
“Crutchie. Call me Crutchie. I don’t want the name of the man that left me homeless, who thinks I’m not even his son anymore, who…” He couldn’t keep going. Just when he thought all his tears had been used up, he found some more. Such a waste of water.
Jack sat down beside him and hugged him tight. “Ok, Crutchie. I can do that. It’s ok, it’ll be alright, I got’cha.”
It was everything Crutchie had wanted when he got home.
And, he supposed, he was now.