Weaving through the crowd of people, I slip behind the wall of cottages. At first I don't see him, but then I catch a glimpse of his brown hair.

I continue to follow him, ducking behind barrels and cottage walls whenever he looks back. I proceed to sneak a few meters behind him, both of us ducking away whenever a soldier walks across the wall above us.

I make my steps soft on the damp earth, the dirt not as dry and dusty here as the stone facade blocks out most of the sunlight. Finally, he stops. He ducks behind a large wood barrel, and, glancing around him one more time, (I am hiding behind another barrel, as this is where the townsfolk usually store the goods and food they want to protect from the heat and the sun, as our cottages are usually very insulated.) he darts out from behind the barrel and start to tug at a stone on the wall, a sense of routine too all of his actions.

I almost snort. I had followed him all the way here only to witness an attempted escape? That stone is never gonna move. The wall is too firm.

I almost turn away, assuming that he will either give up or get caught, whichever comes first, until a hear a small scrape coming from behind me. I whirl around in surprise, and see, to my amazement, that the stone has nearly completely come out, and with one more firm tug he is slipping through the small gap.

Incredible. How did he know that that stone was there? Unless..... he had done this before.

But that didn't make any sense! If he had escaped before, then why come back? Why even escape in the first place if you were gonna come back?

I watch as the stone slides back into place, being pulled from the other side. I wait a few seconds before glancing up to see if there are any soldiers and run out to the rock.

I try to find a place to grab it, but I can see no handholds. "How the heck did he get a grip on this thing!?" I mutter under my breath.

Suddenly, I feel my fingers latch onto something, a little grove carved into the rock. Using this, I give a small tug. Nothing moves. I give a larger tug. Nothing.

Taking a deep breath, I brace my feet against the wall and throw all of my body weight backwards, tugging on the stone relentlessly. It finally moves, and I slip through the gap.

After a few more minuets of tugging the stone back into place, I finally glance up and realize I have lost him. But I'm outside the wall!

Turns out he was useful after all. I start to walk around the outside, and then I notice something beneath me. Footprints. Maybe I haven't lost him after all....

Following the footprints, I am lead into the woods. The dark trees tower over me, blocking everything but a few lonely rays of golden light from the sun. The occasional dead leaves crunch under my feet, the lush greenery above preventing any undergrowth from sprouting up here.

The ground suddenly becomes more difficult to walk on, and I realize that the ground has started to slope upwards. Pine trees become more frequent, overtaking the occasional oak or maple.

The earth slopes downwards, then upwards again as the hike becomes increasingly more difficult. i look up, the towering shape of a mountain looming above me. The foothills become steeper, and as the ground becomes rockier it becomes harder and harder to follow the footprints.

I must have been hiking for hours, as the sun begins to set below the mountains, casting a dark shadow over the valley below. Looking back, I can see the little dot that is my village.

Then I see movement ahead, and I realize it is the boy, standing in front of a cave mouth gaping in the side of the mountain, a cavity in the rock.

Suddenly he disappears into the inky blackness. Scrambling down the rocky hill, I run forward, only to stop short in front of the mouth of the cave. Taking a deep breath, I gather my courage and step into the shadows.