"Theo! Theodore! Where are you?!" she cried, her voice cracking.
"Has anyone seen him?"
Her cries echoed against the storm, raw and frantic and her hair plastered to her face. Ethan's chest tightened. The image struck him at once: the oversized hat, the bag too heavy for small shoulders, the boy's certainty about his map and his adventure.
Maybe It was the same child who had bumped into him earlier that day.
Ethan stood in the doorway, rain soaking into his shirt, his pulse quickening as the storm broke in earnest overhead.
The mother saw Ethan and frantically
walked up to him. "My boy," she gasped. "He… he was supposed to be with his father by the river, fishing, he wore a big backpack and a large hat. But he never made it. I don't know where he went. I don't know" Her voice cracked into sobs. He's out there, in this storm!"
"I spoke to him earlier. I think I know where he might have wandered." Ethan replied.
Ethan steadied her shoulders. "What's his name?"
"Theodore," she choked, then louder, "Theo! He's just a child."
She clutched her shawl around her, soaked and shivering. "Please, sir I need some help in finding him"
Ethan held up a hand, "I will," Ethan promised, though the storm's howl made his words feel like fragile glass in the night.
He rushed back into his room, his mind racing. He shoved on his heaviest boots, laced them tight, then pulled his thick coat over his shoulders. He strapped a knife to his belt, grabbed a rope coil, and shoved a small lantern into his bag. With one last tug of his hood, he stepped into the storm, the wind slapping against him like a living force.
"If I'm not back before the storm calms down," he told her, his tone firm but steady, "send a rescue team out in the morning. Hopefully it will have passed by then. But right now he doesn't have until morning."
Tears ran down her face, whether from rain or fear, he couldn't tell. "Please, bring him back."
Ethan nodded once, and with that, he plunged into the storm.
The village of Elmsworth blurred in sheets of rain as he ran, the world dim under rolling clouds. His boots struck through puddles that grew deeper with each passing minute. He muttered under his breath, half to keep himself steady, half as a way to drown out the wind. "Hold on, Theo. Just hold on."
Hours passed as Ethan combed through the outskirts, the storm beating him down at every turn. He followed faint signs a small footprint in mud, a broken twig, the scuff of a boot heel. The boy had been wandering, searching, just like he said earlier. Hunting for fairy-tales in the woods, while the real storm threatened to consume him.
Ethan pressed forward, teeth gritted, his body soaked and heavy, his breath visible even in the warm season from how chilled he had become. The wind shrieked through the trees, and at one point he thought he heard a faint cry, though it was smothered quickly by the storm's roar.
As he pushed further, the area began to look more and more familiar, he then sudden a flicker of memory he and Hana sitting on a hill, sharing quiet company during a picnic months ago. He remembered how, far off in the distance, an old shack leaned against the edge of the forest. He had pointed it out idly, wondering how long it had been abandoned. Now, that memory sharpened in his mind like a compass. He remembered Theo telling him he's going by his grandfathers shack, so If he was out here the boy's wild imagination had carried him too far, maybe just maybe he's posted safely at the shack, Ethan hoped.
Ethan pressed on in that direction.
The rain blurred everything, but he pushed on. "Theo!" he bellowed, voice nearly lost in the storm. "Theo!"
A faint reply cut through the chaos. "Help
...Help!" his cries muffled by the roar of rushing water. Theo had slipped into a depression in the ground, a deep hollow rapidly filling with rainwater that streamed from the hillside above. He clawed at the slick dirt, his face twisted in panic.
Relief and fear struck him all at once. He followed the sound, weaving through trees until he spotted the in the hole , his small body half-submerged in a hole rapidly filling with water.
"Hold on, Theodore!" Ethan roared, sliding down the slick mud toward him.
The boy's eyes were wide with terror. His arms flailed, struggling to stay above the rising water.
"Don't move I've got you," Ethan said, voice sharp but steady. He crouched, mud soaking his knees, and reached for the boy. With the rope but it slipped in his hands the first time. His boots sank deeper into the mud the second attempt. His teeth clenched as he braced his body, gripping the rope tighter.
Ethan dropped to his knees at the edge, eyes wide as the water swirled higher. "Theodore! Stay calm I'm here!"
He pulled the rope free, fumbling with slick fingers, looping it under his arms. He gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body tensing. The boy's terror was contagious, but Ethan's voice cut through the storm, steady and firm. "I need you to breathe. I'm not leaving you here."
He reached down, straining with one arm, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. The mud gave way under his boots as he pulled, the rope taut and digging into his shoulder. His muscles screamed, water stinging his eyes, his breath bursting from his chest in harsh grunts.
"Come on!" he roared, his voice raw as he clenched his teeth and gave one final, violent heave. Theo's body came loose, flung upward and into Ethan's arms. Ethan stumbled back onto the ground, gasping as the boy clung to him, both soaked and shivering.
Ethan gathered Theo close, brushing the boy's wet hair from his face. "You're alright now. I've got you."
The boy sobbed into his chest. "I....I thought I was gonna...."
"Not tonight," Ethan muttered, pulling him close. "Not while I'm here."
They pushed onward, Ethan keeping Theo close, his arm around the boy's shoulders as they staggered through the drenched woods. For a time, Ethan said nothing, though his chest felt heavier with every step. They had been walking for what felt like forever.
As they walked Theo's voice broke in sobs. "I'm sorry… I was reckless…"
Ethan shook his head, his teeth chattering. "It's okay, Theo it's not your fault"
"We need shelter," Ethan muttered. "We'll head for the shack."
Theo nodded weakly, They trudged forward, rain beating into their backs, the ground sucking at their boots. Ethan stayed silent about the unease gnawing in him the way the trees twisted, the paths blurred by rain. They could already be lost. He wouldn't say it aloud, not when the boy needed strength, not fear.
Suddenly, the wind howled sharp, and with a deafening crack, a massive tree gave way.
"Look out!" Ethan shouted, grabbing Theo and hurling him out of the path just as the trunk crashed down. But in his lunge, Ethan's foot slid on the slick mud. He slammed against the earth with brutal force, his head snapping against a rock, pain shooting white-hot through his skull. His ankle twisted beneath him with a sickening jolt.
"Mr. Ethan!" Theo's voice broke in panic.
Gritting his teeth, Ethan forced himself upright, swaying but conscious. His vision swam, but Theo's face steadied him
"Theo!" he yelled, dazed, his voice raw.
The boy appeared from behind a log, wide-eyed and drenched but unharmed. "I'm okay!"
Ethan groaned, dragging himself up to his knees. His leg throbbed with every movement, and blood trickled down his temple into his eye. He staggered upright, his body screaming in protest, but he waved the boy close. "We keep moving."
So they did. Ethan limped forward, gritting through the pain, Theo at his side. Each step was harder than the last, the storm pressing against them like a wall. His body felt heavy, the world tilting.
The boy clung close as they trudged on. Each step was agony for Ethan, his boot filling with warmth from his injured ankle, his head pounding. But he pressed forward, leading Theo through the storm's chaos.
They walked until exhaustion blurred one hour into the next. The storm grew heavier, the sky alive with lightning, thunder shaking the ground. Ethan's breath came ragged, his strength ebbing, until finally his legs gave way. He collapsed into the mud.
"Mr. Ethan!" Theo dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his mud-streaked face. Fear clawed at him, but so did Ethan's words, etched into his mind: Don't give up. Not now.
Ethan's hand found The's shoulder, his grip weak but firm enough to push courage into him. "You'll…make it, Theo. Don't be afraid. You'll make it." Shortly after Ethan fell unconscious.
The boy's breath hitched, but he looked around desperately. He remembered Ethan's strength, his voice, his steadiness when the storm seemed unbeatable. Theo clenched his small fists, forcing himself to move.
Through the sheets of rain and shifting trees, he spotted what looked like a break in the earth a hollow at the base of a massive rock, forming a natural pocket against the storm. It wasn't much, but it was shelter.
"I found something!" Theo shouted, his voice high with both fear and determination.
It took all his strength, but with a mix of pulling and pleading, He managed to drag Ethan toward the pocket space. Hey crawled inside and then pulled Ethan for shelter, the storm screaming just beyond, but for now, they were safe.
Theodore sat close to Ethan, his small body trembling but his spirit unbroken. Outside, the storm raged on. Inside, a boy held onto the man who had not let him drown, determined now not to let him fade.