VII

In the cold quiet darkness of the infirmary ward, Wren stared into the wide, deep blue eyes of his sister, her face, barren of emotion and pale in the feeble candlelight. It felt like minutes before finally, she blinked, and Wren pulled himself from her gaze. Something was horribly wrong. He hesitantly reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek.

"Lira, what's happened to you?"

His sister was only a year younger than him, but sitting in the hospital bed, she looked like a small child. He always did his best to protect her, make sure she was safe and happy. Seeing her like this, it left a deep pain in his chest.

She reached her hand out to Wren, and like him, gently touched his face. Her fingers were cold and caused a chill to run through his body. Her fingers moved up, from his cheek to the side of his head. She closed her eyes and suddenly, a bright searing light filled Wrens vision.

He was back in the farm house. He stood next to mother, and father was coming down the stairs. There was fear etched on his face, and for some reason, he was also trying not to panic. He heard running footsteps, and a boy came hurrying down the stairs, behind father. It was him. Confusion filled his mind, and he tried to look around before realizing he couldn't. His head turned without him doing so, and he watched as father opened the front door and peeked out. Everything went blurring, like paint running down a portrait. Now he found himself standing outside, behind the farm house. The boy, him, was reaching for a stack of torches. A howl cut through the air, and his head turned to the fields. Father was standing face to face with a monster. Understanding shot through Wren. He was watching that night through his sisters eyes! Everything progressed as it did that night. He watched himself struggle with the torches, he saw his father mauled again, he watched as he, in Lira's body, tried to run for the shelter, only to be flung down the stairs with great force. His sight became blurry once more, and then he was lying in a bed. A nurse stood over him on one side, and a man stood on the other. His long white robes were different than anything he had seen before. His bald head reflected the candlelight, and his silver eyes gleamed. The nurse turned to speak to him, her voice far away and echoing, like she was talking at the entrance to a cave.

"She's awake, what more do you need to do?"

"We have an opportunity here, for the good of the kingdom." The bald man said sternly. "She is now more important than just another orphaned girl."

The nurse was frowning, but did nothing as the bald man closed his eyes and reached down towards Wren, towards Lira. The man's hand covered his vision, and a stabbing pain pierced behind his eyes. The searing light returned, and suddenly Wren was in his own body again, stumbling backwards from Lira. He was covered in a cold sweat, and his stomach felt queasy. He leaned over trying not to throw up, and looked at Lira, still staring at him blankly.

"What did they do to you?!" He panted. He had to get her out of here. They were doing something terrible to his sister, and he couldn't let it continue.

A sharp clack sounded in the hallway, announcing someone approaching the ward rapidly. Wren looked for a place to hide, and dived behind the curtain of the bed across from Lira's. The door opened right as Wren hit the ground.

"-totally unnecessary!" a nurse was saying.

"I've said it before, I'll say it again. This is bigger than you. I will continue my work, and that's final. This decision is coming from someone in the knighthood you had best not anger, so you should leave me to this." Wren recognized the voice immediately. He slowly peaked around the curtain to confirm what he already knew.

The bald man was back. His long flowing white robes indicated that he was likely a healer, or some kind of magic user. The crest of the Silverbloods glimmered on the back of his robe.

He stopped in front of Lira's bed, blocking Wrens view of his sister.

"Fine." The nurse said next to him, crossing her arms. "I will leave you to conduct whatever experiments you're doing, but I'm going to write a formal complaint. As a medical practitioner, I cannot simply let this go."

The bald man said nothing, just waved his hand at her, shooing her away. She hurumph'ed and made her way out of the ward.

The magic user slowly walked around to the side of Lira's bed, looking down at her. Wren could now see her now, her eyes locked on the man's face.

"Hello my pretty. Ready for another session? We've made excellent progress thus far. I am expecting great things from you."

He leaned down, his hand reaching for her face. It took everything for Wren not to dash forward and tackle the man, but he had to see, had to know what they were doing.

As his fingers made contact with her forehead, Lira opened her mouth. Pure white light burst forth from every opening, like the fire from a Jack-o-lantern. The bald man had his head tilted up, and Wren could see the same light beaming from his face as well. A wave of energy suddenly flooded the room. Wren felt like he was standing in a thunderstorm, his scalp tingling, his hair moving as if in a blustery wind. He shut his eyes as the energy pressed down on him, like an invisible wave coming from the bald man. When he opened his eyes again, they were no longer alone.

Figures stood around the room, and occupied every bed. But not people like him, his sister, or even the Silverblood magic user. These figures were faint, almost transparent, flickering like fading memories, and they were horribly wounded. The ones who were standing were swaying in place, bandages covering various parts of their body. Some had crutches or canes, and their clothes were ragged and coated in blood. Many were missing limbs. Groans and cries filled the room, overlapping each other in a cacophony of anguish. A moan came from directly behind Wren, and he jerked his head to see someone laying on the bed next to his hiding place. His face was entirely covered with a blood soaked bandage, and both legs were missing. He reached a hand out towards Wren, and let out another moan, as if beckoning. Terror filled every fiber of Wren's body. Panic flooded his mind, and he rose to his feet, his brain telling him to flee. Before he could, another wave of energy swept through the room, knocking him down.

Wren lifted his head from the floor, and saw the bald man stepping away from Lira.

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"Yes, very good, very good my dear. Soon you will be ready. Perhaps another session, and I will take you from this place." He began shuffling back towards the doors, his robes sweeping across the floor. "We are lucky indeed to have located someone like you. The knights work is paying off wonderfully." The door creaked shut as he exited the ward, leaving Wren and Lira alone.

He leapt to his feet and darted to her bed. Her head rested on the pillow, her hair fanned out around her.

"Lira! Are you ok? What did he do to you?!" She didn't respond, her eyes were closed with a peaceful look on her face. Wren tried to wake her, but even gently shaking her did nothing. Wren was panting heavily, as if he just ran a mile. He had to get his sister out of here before they took her. He was not about to lose her again, not like this. Wren wrapped his arms around her and lifter, but she was totally limp, her arms flopping limply and her head dropping back. He wasn't going to be able to get very far with her this way, he had to wait. Anger and frustration filled his mind as he thought about leaving her here for another night. He gently laid her back down and brushed her hair aside.

"I'll be back little sis. I swear, I'll get you out of here."

With that, Wren left his sister, his heart crying out.

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Sam hummed a tune to himself, chasing a dust bunny with his broom. He heard sounds down the hall, shuffling, doors opening and closing, but he did his best to not think about it. Wren was down that way, and he seemed much more capable to deal with spooky things in the night than him. Sam was doing his best to keep to the light, taking as much time as he could with this area. Movement from the little dirt pile he just made caught his eye. He stopped humming and started at it. It was like a gentle breeze was stirring the dust around, but Sam felt nothing. Suddenly, the dirt flew away, and Sam was knocked to the ground by an invisible force, his broom flying from his hand. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head. Today had been very rough. He raised his head, and his breath caught in his throat. Ghostly figures filled the hallway. Half see-through people, mangled and bloody, stood everywhere. The sides of the hallway were blocked by people on their backs, their distorted bodies reaching into the air. Moans and cries of pain filled Sam's ears, their agony was palpable, and the heavy air became suffocating. He screamed and scrambled to his feet. He dashed to the door where the guard was, wrenching it open. The soldier was in a chair, his feet kicked up on a desk. An empty bottle sat on the table. His head was tipped back and a loud snore escaped his lips.

Are you kidding me?! Sam scampered towards him in panic, intending to wake him, when another blast hit Sam, throwing him to the wall. The soldier rocked back in his chair, but didn't seem to notice at all. Sam pulled himself up, feeling bruised all over.

What the hell is going on?!

Sam looked back out the door, and to his relief, saw it was empty. He cautiously crept back into the hallway. Empty. No horrible specters roaming around any longer. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, put his back to the opposite wall and slid down, sitting on the floor. Several minutes later, he heard footsteps pounding down the stairs at the end of the hall and prayed it was Wren. His friend did indeed appear from around the corner, and sprinted down the hallway. Sam looked up at him from the floor as he approached, seeing his wide eyes and soaked in sweat, he said, "Told ya it's haunted."

"no...I mean, yes but..." Wren put his hands on his knees to catch his breath, panting heavily. "That wasn't just ghosts."

Sam eyed him curiously. Wren slowly lowered himself to the floor next to Sam and took a few moments to gather himself, then launched into detail about everything that had happened. Sam looked at him in disbelief a few times, but stayed silent the whole time. After saying how a nurse had told him a special healer was attending to Lira, Sam shook his head.

"That wasn't any kind of mind magic I've ever heard of. Normally, when a kid needs help from a psycho-mage, it's because they're so messed up from the things they've seen that they can't stay with us at the orphanage." Sam told him. "They go in and sort of help soften their memories, remove some of the trauma. What you saw sounds like something else entirely."

Wren mulled this over in his mind for a while. Then he remembered something.

"Something else is bothering me. The mage, when he was talking to Lira, he said they were lucky to have located someone like her, and that the knights work was finally paying off. That's a really weird way to talk about rescuing someone whose family was attacked by werewolves, and lost their parents."

Sam frowned at this. "yea your right. It's pretty common for kids to get recruited into the knighthood, as warriors, mages, or something else. But that makes it sound like...well almost like they were looking for her."

The thought chilled Wren to his core.

"I have to get her out of here. Tomorrow night, before the mage comes back." Wren spoke with a determination in his voice that Sam hadn't heard before. He placed his hand on Wrens shoulder, expressing his desire to help.

The two of them spent a long time sitting there, trying to come up with a plan.

Hours later, they heard a cough from the guards room, and the scrap of a chair. The boys grabbed their brooms and darted down the hall. Morning had come faster than Wren had expected.

The guard emerged from his room, stretched, and looked around.

"All right lads, you've done enough. let's get you back."

They cleaned up the piles of dirt that dotted the hallway and returned the brooms. Stepping out into the early morning, Wren finally realized just how exhausted he was. The sun had not yet crested the hills, but judging how close it was, they were probably going to arrive at the orphanage right in time to go to breakfast. He doubted they would get any rest. This was sadly proven true, as the orphanage came into view, with two lines of kids outside the door, and Caretaker Edric standing at the front. Looking impatiently at them, he snapped his fingers and pointed to the back of the line, where the boys went. After removing their almost useless cloaks (because it's not fair the other kids don't have them of course), they set off to the mess hall. The start of Wrens second day at the orphanage had begun.