"Hey ma!" A rough accent yelled making a small lady jump. She soon sighed once she realize it was just her loud boisterous son.
"Wilton?...Oh my you're back from the dungeons already?" She stood up from her garden, dusting off the small bit of dirt on her yellow dress.
The man rolled his eyes and walked up to the smaller one, giving her a hug.
"You know I like to be called Yancy, ma." He pulled away.
The women sighed and slightly smiled. "I don't understand why you want to go by that silly name instead of your grandfather's."
"Because, ma, 'Wilton' makes me sound like an old folk."
"But it's such a nice name for our family to carry on..." She signed and started to walk inside the small cabin.
"Come on in, son. Your father should be here soon." She waived for Yancy to follow her.
"So uh how's Dad doing... You know with his err heart and working for da king?" He followed, having to duck underneath the doorway.
"Oh, you know him. He still thinks he's 25 and won't admit that time is catching up with him. I swear, one day that man is going to have a heart attack from working too hard." The woman continued deeper into the house, heading for the kitchen.
"Ah sounds like just pop..." Yancy ducked underneath the kitchen door frame again. This house was always too small for him but it's all they could afford.
"Yes, yes... So, have you learned your lesson about stealing by spending those four months in that dungeon?" She turned around with a cup of water and handed it to her son.
"Oh ma! Already nagging me? Yeah, I learned my lesson." He groaned.
"I'm only nagging you because I don't want you to end up in there again... I need you to be here in case something happens to your father." She sipped on her water.
"Uh so do you have your eyes out for any of the maidens, Darcy from down the street is finally of age and her mother is willing to marry her to you. Isn't that great? Her mother doesn't even care that you went to the dungeon; this could be a chance to finally turn your life around and-"
"Uh ma...you know I don't...like ladies."
His body tensed up and he tried to hide his face behind his cup. He tensed even more when his mother heavily signed and put down her cup, crossing her arms.
'"Wilton, you need to stop saying that. People are going to start believing-"
"But it's true! I really don't like those gal's"
"WILTON, I will not take this. You are a strong, handsome and smart man. Whether you like it or not, I'm marrying you to Darcy."
"What? I don't get a choice?!"
"I already predicted you would say some dumb stuff like that so I went ahead and gave Darcy's mother permission, as soon as your father gets here and agrees-"
Yancy drowned out his mother's words, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'in and out, in and out' he repeated in his head trying to calm down. He could do this..he was a rational guy! He wouldn't do something outrageous.
Yet -somehow- he found himself on top of his mother's corpse. Those glossed over eyes staring at him and her mouth hung open as if she was trying to take a breath that she couldn't. Yancy's arms started to shake as he realized who's throat he was clutching onto. He leaned back as his eyes quickly started to water. He choked back a sob that burned in his throat. As much as he wanted to cradle his mother's head and hold her close to his chest while he rocks her back and forth, whispering apologies over and over again, he couldn't. Especially when he heard the footsteps from downstairs.
Yancy scrambled off of the corpse and ran for the back door of his parents cabin but he hesitated, looking back down at his mom as he wiped away a few tears that leaked down his face. He rushed back over to her; he couldn't just leave her... He couldn't just run away like some fucking coward. Yancy stood next to her as the footsteps got closer.
It was Yancy's father and he was calling for his wife that was usually outside in the garden. Something terrible had to be wrong if she wasn't there watering her plants by this time. Yancy's father was a spitting image of him. Same broad shoulders, same sharp eyes and the same height. The only difference was where that Yancy's father had a full beard and long hair that can be pulled into a bun behind his head.
"Did yancy show up yet? I heard he was getting off soon."
Yancy could hear the worry picking up in his father's gruff voice as he neared. Finally the last couple of steps made it to the door. Yancy couldn't watch. He heard his father most likely drop his armour and how the room fell silent.
"You did this," It wasn't a question. His father fell to the ground, clutching his chest. He groaned as the pain started to bloom and she in his rib cage.
Yancy realized what was happening, he was having a heart attack and tried to reach out for him.
"D-dad-" But His hand was swatted away.
"Don't.. don't touch m-me!" He growled at him but soon the anger was replaced by pain.
"You did this to h-h-er..."
Yancy watched as his father screamed the name of his now deceased wife. And all he could do was watch, fucking watch helplessly as his dad clutched his chest and the wooden floor in a painful grip. He stumbled back into a corner and buried his face into his hands as he heard the neighbors come in. They were alerted by his father's yell.
It didn't take long before authorities sweep the house and tackled Yancy, knocking him out cold.
When he woke up, his hands were tied behind his back and he was being dragged out by the village authorities. He could barely understand the muffled voices around him with the pain filling his head. He tried to lift his eyelids but they would barely stay open. All he could see was the red flames licking up at the air that was held by a guard in front of him.
"Hmh- fuck" He groaned out but no one seemed to pay attention to him.
Soon a strong breeze came by and he shivered, that's when he realized his shirt was gone and the only thing covering his bottom half was a tattered brown skirt. Even though the freezing temperature was bad enough, the smell was even worse- oh yeah - He was in the dungeons again.
Finally with his senses coming back to him, he took in the detail of the place. Moldy walls that would make him sick, dimly-lit cages with only a small skinny bench to sleep on, the lock hanging heavily on the doors that he was supposed to be behind. Wait, why wasn't he behind it yet? Why where they still walking? Looking closer he noticed the engravings on the wooden sign above it. 'Wilton Anglo', that's his name... That's his cage... So why the fuck wasn't he in it?!? Panic began to rise in his chest-
"Hey!-" He tugged on ropes holding him.
"That's my cage! I'm supposed ta be in there!"
A guard behind him just kept pushing him forward as Yancy struggled. He couldn't really fight back against them, his bare feet wouldn't stay in place and slipped on the cobblestone. He did all he could to try and stop them from pushing him in the dungeon but nothing worked. Giving in, he prepared himself for the worst of what was about to happen.