As Theo got to know Francis, he discovered that he was as economical with words with friends as he was with strangers.

That is to say, they had very little conversation, and most of it was prompted by Theo asking questions or initiating.

Still, it wasn’t the worst conversational partner that he’d had (which was an honour that was an equal tie between Grant and Esther, for wildly different reasons).

And it wasn’t like they had to speak much when cultivating. It was a directed silence, one of focus that made it easy to pass the time without striking up conversation. It was palpable, blanketing the area in a hushed breath.

They were sat in the clearing as usual, Theo feeding mana into the earth, and Francis directing and shaping it. After so many days of cultivating and infusing mana, Theo had become familiar with the feeling of mana saturated in the air. It was an electric prickling of the skin, not unlike goose bumps but in a more exhilarating way.

He stood up, carefully making sure to not squash any plants. They were now around knee height, and it was becoming difficult to sit without them brushing up against his face and body. He looked over at Francis, who was almost invisible amongst them. All Theo could see was a splotch of brown amongst all the green.

The clearing had once been differentiated from the rest of The Woods by its, well, clear space. Now, however, it was differentiated through not only the charge that seemed to linger in the air, but the roiling carpet of petals and buds.

It was hard to reconcile this wonder and peace as the same place where the overtures of war happened a week ago, where blood watered ash and death fertilised life.

The herbs themselves were starting to direct the mana in odd ways – in fact, they were also drawing in mana and cycling it out. Theo watched as waves of mana radiated in and out of the plants, almost like breathing. The time it took for the mana to dissipate (and thus for Theo to spend cultivating) was taking longer and longer. He only needed to infuse twice a day.

Even Francis was able to relax, which he protested. He was still trying to be constantly focused, even as it was growing less and less necessary.

Theo sympathised.

The scene from last week was still fresh in their minds. Theo wasn’t ashamed to admit that there had been a few occasions in the past week where he’d woken up in the middle of the night.

The bodies were so lifeless, and yet that made it all the worse when he saw them coming closer with their dead (or missing) eyes, unable to move away as they came within arm’s length. He could hear the rattle of bones moving. Their shallow, scratchy breaths wheezing the smell of rank putrefaction into his face. They reached their hands for his face, and he woke up with the feeling of bloody stumps trailing across his cheeks.

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Point is, viscerally seeing death like that affected people, and now he knew how Francis responded to that. It was admirable, to face death, and be shaken, and have your gut instinct be to help (Theo tried not to think about how he almost didn’t show up today).

“At this rate, you won’t need to cultivate here at all. Soon, this will be self-sufficient and sustaining.” Theo welcome the distraction from his thoughts to find Eva there, watching Francis. She seemed different. Her hair was tinged with a neon green, almost floating and swimming through the air. Her eyes were sharp, and if it was dark enough, they would glow.

He blinked. “Nice makeover.” Eva furrowed her brow in confusion, looking over her own body.

Theo pointed at his own hair. When she directed her eyes upwards, she almost flinched at the green there. It was clear that this was not a deliberate choice, more one formed by circumstance. The question was what circumstances caused it (and the answer was likely the herbs or mana saturation or some combination therein).

Eva pinched some of her hair, rubbing it in between two fingers. After a moment of analysis, she returned it to its rightful place. “As I was saying, thank you for all of your work, both of you. I never expected this to be the result, and it is certainly more effective than the ambient mana leaking from the chest.”

Eva plucked a leaf from one of the plants, admiring its colour and how the motes of mana seemed to distort around it. Theo absentmindedly noted that it matched the new tint that had introduced itself to Eva’s being. She tucked it into her hair, camouflaged among almost identical greens. “We will be able to deal with any further intruders with greater ease.”

Theo bristled, and he noticed Francis still too (in a way unlike his current stillness, like how a bird and the caterpillar it is eyeing are still in very different ways). He tried to not think about last week.

He failed.

---

“So we won’t actually have to do much work. I mean, the rest of the bards and I will have to perform, but that’s no biggie. You guys won’t have to do anything besides be on standby and stay sober unless someone gets hurt or starts attacking someone else.” Theo explained to Francis, as they walked away from The Woods, Theo mostly paying attention to the Coins of Unity.

It was just after sunset, as Eva had explained how there was enough mana there to leave it to The Woods, and ushered them out despite their protestations.

Theo had mentioned to Francis how it would be useful if he also came along while they tried to find whatever the Coins of Unity pointed to next. He elected not to mention how it also meant he wouldn’t have to find them on his own, and would have someone to talk to (Francis’ conversational skills aside).

Francis had agreed. “So, our role is to simply be available in any situation that requires healing or protection?” Theo had been trying to explain how the ball would work.

Trying being the key word.

“Well, you are there to have fun at the ball first, and having you as protection is secondary and mostly an excuse.” Francis gave Theo a look that would make Alan proud. Francis returned his gaze to the road in front of them, but Theo swore he rolled his eyes when he wasn’t looking.

“Like I said, it’s mostly a social event for us, but it can’t hurt to have some fun.” Theo felt a little ridiculous advocating so much for a glorified party, but Francis’ derision made him want to justify it even more.

“You forget that every day a priest is ‘having fun’ is a day spent not helping those in need.” Francis pointed out, and Theo felt heat creeping up his neck. He now felt completely ridiculous, and was once more reminded of the difference in perspectives and priorities between bards and priests.

Before Theo could properly wrestle with responsibilities and how Francis viewed the use of his time (and how it might be helpful if more than just the College of Prayer tried to do something good), they arrived outside the location of the next chest.

The College of Prayer.