It was afternoon when Cyg awoke, and Merry was sitting at the desk, watching him. Judging by the fact that he was still alive and not in the basement, the thief concluded he was safe, as he made it back to bed last night.

“What in the heavens happened to you?” the witch asked, “You look like you’ve been chewed up and spat back out.”

“I feel that way too.” He strained to sit up straight.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and forced him to lay back down. “Oh no, you’re not going anywhere, not like that. More importantly, tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know. I remember being woken up at night by something, and ‘chewed up’ might be the best way of describing it.”

“...Is that all?”

Tired, Cyg replied, “It’s all I got.”

The witch studied him, leaning on the back of the chair with her side. “Is that so...”

His senses were scrambled and he was distracted by the pain, reminding him of when he first arrived. He scanned the room and listened, and there was not a single other sign of life in the house moving about. Nothing close, anyway. “...Where’s Alicia?”

Merry watched him steadily. “Bedridden.”

He scowled. “Is she okay?” Did he take things too far? Was the damage irreparable?

“She’s in terrible condition, worse than you,” she replied, fiddling with the puzzle box nearby without even looking at it. “I don’t know what happened, but some kind of soul magic seemed to have wreaked havoc on the two of you overnight. I suppose I was left alone since there was little chance it would’ve done damage to me.”

It took Cyg a second to notice what she’d revealed to him. “You’re a soul mage?”

“Yes, which is why I can see your current state. Quite morbid. You’re as hurt as one could be while still remaining conscious.”

He sat up anyway, leaning against the headboard. “I feel better than I did hours ago, so I’m sure I’ll be okay, but how’s Alicia? Will she be fine? Did she wake up?”

Merry’s expression softened. “I’ll need to keep an eye on her. If I leave her alone, she might destabilize.”

“But, isn’t she alone right now?”

“It wouldn’t happen that quickly,” she replied, “In any case, you can leave worrying about her to me.”

“That’s a little difficult when you’re telling me she’s so badly hurt that she’s unconscious...”

“Then you can help both of us out by not causing any trouble that’ll draw my attention away from her, fair?”

He breathed out hard. “Fair.”

Cyg spent the next two days recuperating, and by Thursday he was well enough to walk around alone without any fear of collapsing. He still felt dreadful, of course, but his injuries were non-threatening. Alicia on the other hand was in a precarious situation, pale as death and turning and tossing in pain. Merry checked in on her frequently, making all her trips into the forest very short.

“What were you doing out there?” Cyg asked, “Do you need me to help? I’m well enough to go for a jog and not die, so if it’s something I can do, let me try.”

While placing a hand on Alicia’s forehead, Merry said, “The rain damaged some of the old lanterns up north, so you’d need to know how they work. How familiar with runes are you?”

“I’ve messed with lanterns before, and as for runes, I’m more or less solid with the basics.”

“You are?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, “Great. There are engraving pens in the study and a map on the wall that you can take down—I’ll mark the spots with a pencil so you know where to go. Don’t be afraid to tell me if a repair is beyond you.”

“Got it.”

He turned around to leave, but Merry added, “Oh, and we should keep in contact. I don’t have anything convenient lying around, but you brought gems with you. Can you bring me two? I can attach them to my domain so that we can communicate through them—I’ll set it up so that if you put mana into one, it’ll light up the other.”

“That would be handy. I’d have a harder time getting into contact with you than the other way around,” he said, “I’ll get everything right away.”

While she used a pen to modify some gems, they agreed on a rudimentary system of communication through pulses, and Cyg wished that he could’ve had this working with Alicia. It was impossible unfortunately, given the nature of it.

For the lanterns, the wear and tear was all over the place. The simple issues to fix were usually like a destroyed rune or two, and the more difficult ones required more finesse. One of them he had to take down, melt the hook with the pen, and reshape a new one.

By Friday, he was helping around the house far more than he’d ever done before. He offered to do some of the cooking, and they both agreed that he could manage something simple like stew. The bath also stopped working at one point, something Cyg had never even learned because Merry always fixed it right away. On tasks that would require her presence, like scaring away a dangerous animal that roamed into the forest, the thief would be the one to monitor Alicia.

It was also the day the guard arrived seeking help, and the thief grew even more nervous. He didn’t even know if he’d make it to Sunday, and dying randomly would be a problem. After all, if Alicia remained unconscious for longer than a month, then he’d just stay dead.

“Cyg, can you assist? I know you’re not fully better, but I want to lend him the room for the night,” Merry said at the door.

“Sure, I can just sleep on a chair,” Cyg replied, going to welcome Sarabat. They exchanged introductions swiftly and he helped the man into the guest bed.

The guard said, “Sorry for, er, imposing. It looks like I caught the lady witch at a bad time.”

“It’s complicated,” the thief answered.

Merry cut in as she strode into the room. “Don’t worry, we’ll have you back on your feet in no time.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Cyg stood up, uncomfortable. “Uh... should I leave?”

The witch frowned. “Why? If you want to, then go ahead. I don’t think you can help me with this even if you were to stay, but you’re free to watch.”

“I thought it was private, like I shouldn’t be privy to some secret technique.”

She scoffed. “I’ll be showing it to our guest, wouldn’t I?”

“...Right,” he replied, “Not sure what I was thinking.”

“I suppose this wouldn’t be useful for you, so it’d be more for curiosity’s sake than anything,” Merry replied.

The technique of the witch was far more considerate than her apprentice’s; instead of pushing all of his mana out with a wall, she went at it from the edges, breaking it apart and carrying out the pieces. After she was done, Merry was pleased to see the man still awake and rather well.

“Cyg, I’ll leave him to you. Tell me if his conditions worsen somehow, but he should be fine,” Merry said before telling the guard, “I’d love to let you go now, but I’m having you stay until tomorrow morning on the off-chance I missed something.”

Sarabat nodded. “I’ll be happy to stay! Thank you again—I owe you my life.”

“Think nothing of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she replied, taking her leave.

The thief brought over a glass of water to the desk, and only after sitting down did he realize Merry’s implication. She was letting Sarabat go! It was only natural without context, and it made sense considering how often the witch had to check in on Alicia, who previously mentioned her share of the work for prisoner duty.

“A lot on your mind?” Sarabat asked.

That pulled Cyg out of his thoughts. “Just have too many things going on,” he began, stopping to stare at him instead.

“...Is there something on my face?”

“Er...” He rubbed his nose. “By the way, what happened to the glimmer snake?”

“Oh, that thing? After I found it and got bit, everyone rounded some spearmen and arbalists and went hunting. It’s pretty difficult to imagine them not finding it after, but I didn’t stick around to see—everyone told me to hurry over here before it was too late.” While he spoke, Sarabat stretched his arm.

That made sense. “Good thing you got here in time, huh?”

“Yup,” he replied, “But you look like you wanted to ask something else.”

Cyg had an expression of wry amusement. “...Why do you work for the baron? You seem perfectly normal.”

“Uhh...? Because normal people wouldn’t? Is that what you’re getting at?”

“You’re okay with what he does? Stealing money from the town to waste on himself?”

He went for a sip of water. “He still does his administrative duties, the kind of thing that someone like me wouldn’t know how to do. He tries to keep the town safe, tries to take care of his men. It’s ‘cause I’m perfectly normal that I work for him,” Sarabat said, running his new fingers over the ridges on the glass. “I got my family at home to help take care of. My sister can’t even walk. Maybe if I was a court mage or like the lady witch, sure, I’d think about these kinds of fanciful what-ifs. But I’m not, so I do what I have to do and pray everyone else does the same. What’s some guy like me, who can barely read, supposed to do?”

“...It just makes me bitter knowing things could be better but they aren’t,” Cyg said, “Do you really not want to do anything at all? Don’t you wish you could fix everything?”

Sarabat smiled. “Course I do, but I can only do so much. When I say pray, I don’t mean just that, not like listening to a fairy tale and hoping for a happy ending. Like, when my neighbor’s back is acting up, I go help carry his things. I can’t change the world, but maybe I can help make his better,” he said, “What’s bothering you? Want to overthrow the baron?” He chuckled. “I promise I won’t tell.”

Cyg leaned back, considering everything he wanted. To go back in time and save Griff. To kick the pig out and find a proper replacement. To defeat Merry and...

Defeat Merry? Was that what he really wanted?

In a perfect world, he and Alicia would convince her to stop, and they’d all go live happy lives. No one would have to fight, and everyone would get what they were searching for.

“...Just wishing for the impossible like everyone else,” he said, “I guess I’m not going after what I really want. Just the next best thing.”

The guard placed the glass back down on the desk. “That’s life. The best we can do is try.”

Cyg frowned. “You’re really good for bouncing thoughts off of, you know that? Maybe you could make a living off of this.”

“I didn’t even say anything impressive!” He guffawed. “Throw yourself into the thicket for another decade and see how you come out of it. Maybe your standards will shoot up.”

“If I could choose how to live for a decade, I’d spend it free of worries, not fighting for my life. But thanks.” Cyg stood up, feeling energized. “Are you hungry? I’ll whip up something fast.”

There was nothing else of note for the rest of the day, and the guard ate and slept comfortably in the guest room. He woke up bright and early the day after, taking his leave with Merry’s permission. By some miracle, Sarabat had escaped unscathed this week. Cyg would bet that Alicia would be happy to learn that.

And speaking of, her condition marginally improved with time. Sooner or later, she’ll wake, but for now Merry would have to continue monitoring her. The scars Cyg left were fading, and he saw whatever effect the domain was having on Alicia’s soul was still in effect. It was still difficult to discern, only possible for Cyg because he knew what to look for, but eventually that would change. The main worry was how much time he had to figure out what to do.

Sunday arrived, and Cyg went into it believing the witch would find another arbitrary reason to dispose of him. She went outside that morning with her hat, like countless times before.

“Are you going to town?” he asked, following her out the door. He added, “I saw we’re running low on some things.”

“I wish, but not with Alicia’s condition.” She looked around, seeing Bassy strolling in the forest. “I believe some kind of spirit snuck into my domain, a particularly old and knowledgeable one, and that was what attacked you and Alicia. I thought it was impossible given our location, but after considering it, I can’t imagine what else it would be. I’m going to take the day to set up some more defenses. You wouldn’t have to worry—I won’t go too far.”

This week was deviating too far from usual, and Cyg felt very uneasy at its unpredictability. “Got it. I’ll keep an eye out on her and tell you if anything happens.”

“Please do,” Merry replied. “I can’t imagine how I’d handle this if you weren’t here. Thank you, Cyg.”

Without waiting for his reply, she flew off into the forest. That felt wrong.

Anxious, Cyg grabbed some wood and an engraving pen and brought it up to Alicia’s room. She was unable to help him, but her notebooks were still there. He didn’t want to pry, but circumstances called for it, and he rifled through her desk.

He already went through a few of these, but he’d lost track of what was in what. They were filled with rambling thoughts and diagram schematics, years’ worth of material crammed into a dozen books. They were not cleanly laid out, nor were there any kind of instructions; the only thing at play were her whims.

Cyg saw parts of the circle written down, only recognizing them because of how many times they refilled it and saw the exposed segments. It was mostly obfuscation as she explained before, and Alicia spent forever trying to crack it with little to show. One of the books, however, contained the entire process of creating the round explosive she was so proud of.

He worked warily, and Cyg considered himself lucky that neither Merry returned nor Alicia worsened for the two hours he spent trying to recreate it in a crude form. He slid the clunky rectangular charge underneath her bed and tried his best to remember the spot, so that he was able to activate it when he needed to.

When night came, he sat at his desk, waiting for footsteps and the accompanying knock at his door. He waited, and waited, and waited, playing with the puzzle box again to pass the time. Merry had opened it back then without physically adjusting it, which probably meant this was a puzzle for mages. It was the first time seeing one of this kind, so if there were any standard clues one would normally know, they would be lost on him.

His first instinct was to flood the whole thing with mana, but it never worked. He tried filling out portions, following the split where it should’ve opened, and tracing the solutions of each side. Nothing. A rudimentary knowledge of runes hinted to him there was probably one set in there that opened it and a handful of others that kept it shut.

He sat there, waiting, thinking, sitting in silence until he saw something peculiar. As the moonlight reached his desk and hit the sides of the box, only parts of it shone, revealing a twisting, branching series of matte lines. How had he not noticed before? It was something so imperceptible, but it should’ve been obvious with just how long he’s been playing with it!

Mana trailed along the paths, and upon completing a full circle, it clicked and opened. Inside was a little scrap of paper. Usually, one came with the box to providea small congratulation for finishing it. This one, however, had something else written.

“I’m sorry, but I know you’ll understand. We do what we have to do.”

He set it down, realizing that it was far past the time Merry usually confronted him. For the first time, Cyg survived longer than a week.