Garrett had survived battlefields.
He had marched through blizzards that froze armor solid against his skin, the bitter wind howling like a wounded beast as it clawed at his face and turned his breath into jagged crystals.
He had endured nights so cold that men dropped where they stood, their bodies stiffening into permanent statues of ice before dawn could break.
He had stood before demons twice his size without allowing fear to cloud his judgment, facing down creatures with teeth like daggers and eyes that burned with ancient malice.
He had felt the ground tremble beneath their weight and had not flinched.
He had watched fire rain from the sky and had not blinked.
He had commanded thousands of knights, his voice carrying across vast armies like a war horn, his orders slicing through chaos and bringing order to madness.
He had settled disputes between nobles whose pride outweighed their common sense, navigating treacherous political waters with the patience of a man who had seen too much to be surprised by human folly.
He had carried the weight of an entire dukedom on his shoulders, the lives of countless families depending on his decisions, his judgment, his strength.
Surely…
Putting one child to bed couldn’t possibly be more difficult than all of that.
Surely.
“…Come on, Mister!” Theo’s tiny hand tugged insistently at his, the small fingers surprisingly strong for a child who barely reached Garrett’s waist.
There was an urgency in the grip, a desperate determination that suggested bedtime was a matter of life and death.
Garrett allowed himself to be led upstairs, following the eager child at a careful pace.
His boots tapped softly against the wooden steps as he counted each one out of habit.
One…
Two…
Three…
The old staircase creaked beneath their weight, each groan of the wood telling a story of decades of use.
The air grew warmer as they ascended, the lingering heat from the fireplace below giving way to the cooler stillness of the upper floor.
“Slowly,” Garrett reminded, his voice calm but firm.
“Okay.” Theo agreed so obediently that Garrett almost smiled.
Then, a heartbeat later— The child yanked his arm with renewed vigor.
“But hurry!” Garrett stumbled forward, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady himself against the wall.
“Theo…” “You’re too slow Mister” Theo said.
“I am blind.” “I know but…” Theo answered so matter-of-factly that Garrett didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.
“Blind people can still walk faster.” “…Can they?” Garret asked.
“I think so.” Theo said.
The confidence in the child’s voice was absolute.
There was no mockery just the unwavering certainty of a five-year-old who had clearly given the matter considerable thought.
Garrett decided not to argue.
He had learned, over the years, that some battles were simply not worth fighting.
This, apparently, was one of them.
A moment later they reached the second floor.
The hallway was quiet, the only sounds the distant creak of the house settling and the soft whisper of wind against the windows.
Theo pushed open his room door with more enthusiasm than necessary, the wood slamming against the wall with a loud bang.
“We’re here!” A faint scent of lavender drifted through the room, mixing with the familiar smell of old wood and dust.
The space was small but warm, filled with the quiet presence of a child’s belongings.
Garrett stretched out one hand until his fingertips brushed cool wood.
A bedpost.
Good.
At least he knew where he was.
“You can sit.” Theo patted the mattress several times, each thump providing a clear auditory signal.
Garrett couldn’t see the gesture, but the repeated thumping made the location obvious.
He lowered himself carefully onto the edge of the bed.
The mattress dipped beneath his weight, the springs groaning in protest.
He sat stiffly, unsure of what to do with his hands, his posture the same rigid formality he would have used in a royal court.
Theo climbed up beside him with considerably less grace, bouncing once before settling down.
The bed shook with the impact, and Garrett felt a small body press against his side.
Theo laid down on the bed looking at Garret.
Garrett folded his hands over his lap.
“So…” Theo looked at him curiously.
Garrett could feel the child’s gaze, even if he couldn’t see it.
“Mister.” Theo said.
“Yes?” Garret asked.
“Have you ever put anyone to bed before?” Theo asked curiously.
“No.” Garret said.
“Never?” Theo asked.
“No.” Garret said.
He didn’t have a sibling and his closest friends were the same age as him.
Maybe if his parents hadn’t died so early then he might have had a sibling.
None of his friends even had a child yet.
They had both gotten married the year before.
They had put it in Garret’s face everyday trying to convince him to get married.
One of them was in an arranged marriage and the other had gotten married to his childhood sweetheart.
Garret was glad he didn’t have to listen to them anymore.
Garret smiled at the memory of his friends.
He’s been here for some time.
They were definitely going crazy looking for him.
He knew they were confused if he was dead or not but he couldn’t send a single message out of this.
He had tried sending various signals but they all bounced back because of the barrier guarding this place.
Theo gasped dramatically, the sound filling the small room.
“Not even one child?” “I’m afraid not.” Garret replied.
The child looked genuinely horrified, his voice dropping to a whisper of disbelief.
“Then Syly is amazing.” Garrett raised an eyebrow.
“…Is he?” Theo nodded enthusiastically, the motion evident in the way his weight shifted against the mattress.
“He does it every night.” Somehow…
That made Garrett suspicious.
Downstairs, Syly had been far too eager to volunteer him for this.
There had been a glee in his voice, a barely concealed amusement that Garrett had noticed but chosen to ignore.
He had assumed it was simple mischief, the satisfaction of watching someone else shoulder a burden.