“You pushed him far too hard, far, far too soon” The Parson snapped. Her tri-colored braids lifted like the wind picked them up, and her clothes were brightened with a golden glow from her hands. It had the radiance of the sun and the warmth of spring. It was a direct opposition to the cold drowsiness of the cobblestone room.

“No, I didn't.” Doco looked over at Kenan, who lay on his bed. After the whirlwind entrance Doco had at the church, carrying his nephew in his arms. The Parson directed him to lay Kenan in the room the boy had been staying in. “He was fine in till he wasn’t. I know how to push someone.”

As The Parson moved her hands around, and covered Kenan in her magics. The superficial cuts that crisscrossed his legs and arms closed while the spilled blood that caked his skin was lifted and crumbled away. “He is not a soldier!” She snapped. “You know better.”

Doco's anger rose as the blood in his veins lapped at that emotion. He breathed And swallowed his words. She was right. “Is he okay?” He asked.

The Parson spent more time on Kenan's shoulder and they both watched the process of flesh grow and knit itself together as it covered a slice of shown bone. “Physically okay. Except for some excessive blood loss.” She glared at Doco for a brief moment. But that blow lost its momentum on the sheer worry on Doco's face. Her next words were softer. “Mentally. There is something wrong, my spells can't determine what.”

Doco shook his head and it hung. Inside of it commenced a war to deprive himself of his precious few positive thoughts as he beat himself. But that self-recrimination was cut off by the little too-loud cough from the door.

The two twisted to see the newcomer. There was another shared reaction when both found surprise on each other's faces. The expectation was a sun-sister. Instead, it was a Man, grizzled with a rough beard. He smelled with the slight aftertaste of liquor. “Rufus?” Doco asked “Something wrong?”

“Nah.” Rufus Stopped. Cleared his throat and then continued. “Ehh, No.” The man then took a few steps toward them. And bowed. “Reverend Mother.”

The Parson smiled, but it was one of strict politeness. “No need for that. Why are you here?”

“Erm. If you don't mind.” He paused. Glanced around the room. “You need to stop Mother.”

“Stop what?” Doco asked.

Rufus coughed into his fist like it would blow away whatever blocked his will to continue. “The magics.” There was a pause. Doco looked at Rufus and tried to leverage his standing to peel away and see the why beneath his request. Rufus nodded, and then Doco did the same towards The Parson.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“I suppose he is stable. Enough.” The Parson said. There was a glint in her eyes that formed into a dagger, and it was sent too fast for notice. She backed up and hit her back against the window. Rufus took a tentative step forward, and then another. Then whatever held him back was gone.

The Drunkard kneeled in front of the bed so he was more level with Kenan. Gently the man pushed open one of his eyelids. The inky blackness from before had receded, but the pupils were still dilated past the point of normalcy. The eyelid closed again and Rufus stood. “The lad has been through too much trauma. It’s caused him to close up.”

“What do you mean?” Doco walked up and stood next to him, as they both looked over Kenan.

“It happens to younger folk. It’s like the mind shuts out anything magical so It can deal with the mundane first. He probably hasn’t thought of mana in weeks.” Rufus responded. “That sword. Your training. It brute-forced that connection too soon. It was too much and his mind, kind’ve tuned out for a bit.”

“I did this?” Doco asked. Then once again his brain set about to hunt and neutralize everything that didn’t promote the decay of his will. “What happens now? Will he get better? Will he be able to use magic again?”

Rufus shrugged. “Ain’t your fault. You couldn’t have known this would’ve happened until it happened. As far as I know, he’ll wake up in a day or two. He’s young, and he’ll bounce back. Time helps. Just… be cautious.”

“I've learned.” Doco snapped. What was beneath his skin pricked his anger, and he hated that he let it get to him.

“Doco. I meant to say that sometimes when the mana comes back. It’s violent. Powerful. They Flex.” There was a pause as both men looked at each other. Something passed between the two that was old but brought new.

“How do you know this? What makes you so certain?” The questions were rapid fire, one after another as a third was spilled out without it being verbalized. An accusation, if it was anything. Rufus half-turned and then twisted the rest of the way to face The Parson. Then he shrugged.

The action sparked a much larger cascade of anger-fueled disbelief. But before the words that started to form at the bottom of her throat had the chance to escape. Doco spoke. “Parson, Kenan will be okay here, right? I have some friends who might know how to help and I’m sure Rufus needs to oversee his guards.”

The Parson stopped and stuttered. She skipped words as they didn’t fit the situation before she landed on a nod. Doco squeezed Rufus’ shoulder and took leave, The Drunkard followed behind. The Parson was left. After a minute, she tisked and let out a harrumph of indignation as she too left the room. There, Kenan remained, alone.

But that isolation went well beyond the physical.

The darker, instinct-driven, and primal segment of his brain revealed. He had been here before, the visit was brief, but the result was the permanent alteration of the function beneath Kenan’s conscience. Yet this time was much, much more fundamentally different. There was a sentiment to the space around him and he could almost interpret what he felt into words. This time, he would have to pull himself back.

Kenan opened his eyes but there wasn’t a difference between the darkness of his eyelids and the blackness of the void he stood in. There was no light, no structures, no life, no breath of the world. Just endless nothingness. It resulted in a deep cold that relaxed Kenan despite the rapid-fire thoughts that skipped in his head. He was fully present now, and he did not know what this place was. Not only was it alien to him, but he worried that such a large part of him liked it.