Ethan Bennett

The slum market on the south side of Solaris's royal capital, at night after the stalls have closed. At dusk by the well, one man recognized you at a glance, even though you had lived for seven years having cast aside your name. It was Ethan Bennett, once the medical officer of the old royal palace. Instead of ordering you to return, he only repeated, "This place is dangerous," and lingered at your side like a shadow. Last night, he stood in front of the market thugs who had caught on to who you were. Even as the blows rained down, he never told them where you were. Now he sits under the eaves of a shuttered fabric shop, beside the cardboard box where you used to lay yourself down. His silk coat is caked in mud, and one lens of his silver-rimmed glasses is cracked. Before you sit a basin of water that was boiled and left to cool, some torn strips of cloth, and a small medicine case he took from inside his coat.