• That flipped a switch in Night. He stared cautiously at the old man. “What are you talking about?”
    The old book vendor held out a shaky hand, pointing. “You…disappeared…where…been? Waiting…help” he spoke in chunks. It almost made no sense, but Night understood it all.
    “You’re looking for the wrong guy” He lied. “I have nothing to do with you, you got that?” the old man didn’t show any signs that he believe Night. “Stay away from me, I have nothing to do with you” he says again to convince himself.
    The old man tries to object but Night jumped backwards onto the statue of the fountain. A breeze rustled his dark brown hair. His golden eyes were full of anger, and fear. There’s nothing in the world that would make him go back to his past, nothing.
    “You leave me alone. If I find you looking for me, that will be the last time you will ever see light; I’ll make sure of it” Night threatened.
    The old man blinked and when his eyes opened again, Night was gone. There was no trace of the thief what so ever. The man was alone, the night air chilly with early winter. A speck of snow fell from the clouds and landed by the mans foot. His cheeks were wet with fresh tears.
    “Pappy?” a voice says from behind.
    The old man wiped his tears and turned around. It was his eldest granddaughter, Mika. She was wearing her pajamas and slippers for shoes. There was a towel across her shoulder and she was breathing hard, out of breath.
    When Mika realized it was her grandfather, she ran and gave him a big hug. “We were so worried! Mom and dad—we looked all over for you! Why did you leave the shop? All the books got stolen” her eyes scanned worriedly at Pappy’s features. She noticed right away that something was off. “What’s wrong? What happened?!” a million bad things flashed in her mind.
    He was quiet for a moment. After all these years of searching and hoping, he finally found him. What’s unexpected was that Night won’t come back. It wasn’t suppose to turn out this way.
    Pappy looked at her worried eyes and said, “Remember…that story I told you when…you were little?”
    “What—Pappy, you have to come back home. It’s chilly out, you’re going to catch a cold” Mika held his hand and lead him down the street.
    “The story…the story” he repeated.
    “Yes, I remember the story,” they turned a corner and went down another street. “We’re almost home, don’t worry. The house isn’t far from here. Good thing you were close by”
    Mika was glad that she found Pappy. But it’s odd, the way he’s behaving. She wasn’t going to question him anytime soon though. There had always been something about her grandfather that was different.
    They arrived at the house with an armful of hugs and sighs of relief. Dinner was made and things were just like any other day. Pappy left the table early to go to his study. Mika left early too, in case her parents wanted to ask her questions about Pappy’s whereabouts.
    “Grandpa?” Mika opened the door to his study. She walked in once he gave her the ok.
    The room was cozy and well kept. Mika sat on a bean chair she personally put in herself when she was little. This was where she used to come every night to hear stories from Pappy. There was only one story he told her though. It was called “The Boy with a Thousand Names”. It was a story about one boy but it seemed like a million stories because the boy had so many names, so many identities, and did so many different quests.
    “…you wanted to know…why I stopped telling you the…story” Pappy was over a hundred years old. Speaking came slower to him because he always gets out of breath.
    “Yes…but that was when I was ten. I’m sixteen now…” Mika shut up and reworded it, “Why did you stop?”
    He paused, staring at something in his hand. It was an emerald necklace shaped like a sphere. It had different shades swirling inside…moving! Mika was fascinated. Then she finally realized it.
    “It’s his necklace! The boy from the story—that’s his! He wears it all the time, all the time, no matter what form he’s in. But wait…it’s not real. It’s just a story.”
    “Wrong” he turns to her. “The reason…why I stopped the story…is because I didn’t want to…tell the last one”
    “What do you mean…?”
    Pappy’s face hardened. His eyes were pained and dead. The last story. It’s the worst from all the other ones. Those were full of sorrow, love, righteousness, and heroics. The one he never told was full of sadness, gore, and pain. It was the last story.
    “Pappy…?”
    “I’m going…to tell you the…last story” he licked his lips, readying himself.
    “Of The boy with a Thousand Names?” Mika asks.
    “Yes” he says, clearer then his regular raspy voice. Whenever he told a story, he’d never pause like he usually does. “The boy was asleep within the necklace, his soul waiting for someone to call upon him again. Sixty years from his last awakening, he was called upon by a little girl”
    “Little girl? But he always gets called by like, girls my age” Mika added, already into the story like when she was little.
    “True. This was a first for him. And he himself was turned to a little boy. The girl was a princess named Lulu. She already had a name ready for the boy. She called him Night.”
    part 3