Eithan stood on a hill overlooking the city of Galas. The lost boys of Rakim all had homes. He had waited and made sure of it before he had left. The queen was a kind and caring woman. She had tried to speak to him, but he had kept his eyes averted, shying away, claiming his real name was Eithan when he knew it wasn’t. The dwarves had given him that name.
The truth was that he couldn’t remember anything about his past. The fall he had taken before the black dwarves had found him had wiped his memory. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t belong here. One look from Reesa’s son, Kaleb, had told him that. The look of jealousy had burned in the young boy’s eyes. If he stayed, Eithan would tear a family apart, and he couldn’t do that, not when he couldn’t even remember his own name.
With a heavy heart, he turned away and began walking through the forest. Next to him loped the giant wolf that had swam ashore and now hunted with him. Together they would find another home in another land, somewhere where the sun shone brightly and the wind was at their back.