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After leaving his name as a volunteer for sacrifice, Oliver wearily wandered towards the lake. His body wanted rest, and even a night’s sleep on the cold ground would have been welcome, but his mind was too stuffed full of thoughts to give him any peace. Things moved along too fast. Perhaps he could have collected his wits in the dungeon awaiting his execution, but he had been troubled with thoughts then too. Maybe if he could turn those off, he could have been a better knight.

The boy found a small patch of rocky pebbles where the lake met the shore, and picked up one that was smooth and flat. He flung it into the lake and watched it skip three times across the surface before sinking with a splash. Someone must have taught him that once upon a time. It seemed like an unbelievable concept after all he had experienced, that he had once been a child learning to throw stones across the water. Even that simple memory was lost to him.

With a sigh, Oliver sat down amidst the pebbles, and tossed another one.

Oliver didn't look up as footsteps approached behind him, assuming the other knight would continue on to find their own unoccupied patch of lake. Some were more comfortable with company than others, and right now he was not sure which he fit into.

But then it was not just some stranger who sat down.

The boy barely gave Horace time to finish his apology, and lunged at him in a big hug. It wasn't very dignified, but Oliver had never claimed dignity as a trait in the first place.

"Horace... I'm s-so glad you are safe..." Oliver muttered, sounding a little choked up.

Oliver shook his head, which came out more like rubbing his face on Horace's shoulder. "N-no, y-you're not... Y-you're..." The boy sniffled, and pulled away just enough to get a sleeve in between his face and his friend. "I-I think- I think I knew you, b-before..."

Oliver pulled back, rubbing at his eyes. They were a little watery, but the boy had maintained just enough composure to avoid bawling during the hug.

He sniffed. "I-I d-don't know... b-but I did remember, um, having to leave somewhere with a knight, probably the one who trained me." Oliver didn't mention the feeling of abandonment he had recalled in that memory, that sense of loss, and the shame of being traded like cattle.

The boy glanced at his feet, and picked up another flat rock to examine with his hands. "I wanted to stay so badly... And I remembered your name, and um... Hattie, and Tommy? I-I d-don't know if it means anything, I just... really didn't want to leave."

Oliver threw the rock in his hand, and it bounced once before sinking with a loud sploosh. There was something comforting about talking, even if it was kinda painful and sad at the same time.

"I-it's okay, I don't really remember you either, not really... But we must have been good friends, I wanted to stay more than anything." Had he known what Horace was thinking, he would have agreed. He would rather remember the friendship he had than the painful moment of parting. Maybe that's what was required of being a knight though, painful perspective.

He smiled, rubbing his eyes again with the back of his sleeve. "I'm sure, I never was mad."

Oliver squeaked, flinching away from the poke. The brave, ticklish knight, willing to sacrifice his life for his kingdom. "It felt like it wasn't the first time," he said in reply. "Just maybe one of the worst. Although I suppose it doesn't matter much, what happened then... We might not be those people anymore."

The sadness he felt at that point was more for his friend, who had been given back a sense of love that could not be reciprocated... compared to that, his own memory of loss only served to cement his path.

His cheeks flushed slightly, embarrassed Horace had seen his impromptu offering. "I-I don't think it will, I'm not much of a knight."