Oakley opened his eyes to a gentle light. The room he was in now was unlike any he had been in before. As he cast his eyes around, without moving just yet, he noticed it was more similar to a church than anything else. Stone pillars reached up, forming the majority of the walls of the chamber. They merged into one another, twisting upwards like reaching roots.

The roof reminded Oakley more of a greenhouse. If not for the stained glass, he would have been justified in thinking there was no roof at all. Just large sheets of glass.

It was odd, looking around at the chamber. The windows made up the roof, instead of being along the walls, but it did mean the whole interior was bathed in multi-colored light. Many of the stained-glass images depicted the forest and beings within the forest. Oakley noticed humans, but as he passed his eyes along the artwork, the humans became more and more influenced by the forest until he wasn’t sure what was human and what was tree anymore.

“So, you’ve risen,” a voice echoed from further down the chamber. Oakley turned his head, still lying down, and looked down the chamber towards where the voice originated. There was a man in a simple gown. His clothes were brown, with a single chord of green rope tied around his waist to hold it all in place. He reminded Oakley of the depictions of monks from the medieval times in England.

“Where is this place?” Oakley asked, slowly trying to sit up, but getting immediately lightheaded. It was definitely a religious place, or a communal place, of some sort. There were the equivalent of pews, carved out of huge logs, lined in rows in the chamber. Oakley was lying down on something raised, where he would imagine someone would say the sermon for a service. The monk-looking fellow was pouring a little water into some plant pots near where he assumed the entrance was to the chamber.

“Still in Branchkeep,” the monk said, “if that’s what you were wondering. We call this a Bratorium, or a Church of Brator. It is a place of worship, and naturally the first place dear Mr. Loggson thought of coming to get you well again.”

The monk slowly walked down the aisle, between the logs, towards Oakley.

“Thank you,” Oakley said, remembering his manners and the outright fear he had felt before he’d reached Branchkeep. “My name is Oakley.”

“Named like a son of Brator himself,” the monk laughed kindly, “I am Father Ishri.”

“Why do I feel worse than before I passed out?” Oakley asked.

“It’s the effect of the herbs,” Father Ishri explained. “They helped to mitigate the effects of the toxins caused by the fungkines. You reacted better than most, but it will still take another hour or so before the effects truly wear off. Wild Aphirage is… unpleasant. You’ll be more than okay for later, however. Mr. Loggson told me how you’d both planned a little night at the tavern!”

“Did he, now?” Oakley said, raising an eyebrow- he was starting to like the people he was meeting in this small town. Perhaps he didn’t have to be as distrusting as he’d thought.

“I believe he said he would be along after his rotation on the watch,” Father Ishri nodded, smiling a little as he checked over Oakley to make sure there were no unexpected lingering effects. “I do wonder what you were doing in the grove, though- especially considering your… I apologize, but… odd sense of dress.”

“Do you know a person by the name of Paerilith?” Oakley asked, unwilling to outright say that he’d been summoned from another world just yet.

“Should I have?”

“No, I suppose not,” Oakley said with a shrug. “He’s the reason I was stuck out there and I’m hoping to find him.”

“Not to do any violence upon him, right?” Father Ishri asked, looking Oakley in the eye, but Oakley averted his gaze. “Nobody is entirely beneath the opportunity for forgiveness. All we need to do is plant the seed and friendships can blossom anew, with care.”

“Forgive me,” Oakley said, “but I don’t need a sermon right now. I know what I need and I just need help getting to him.”

“I’m afraid I am the wrong person to be asking about these sorts of things,” Father Ishri said with an apologetic smile.

“Not to worry,” Oakley said. He could already feel his mind clearing. It was like brushing out the cobwebs after waking up from a nap- the sort that made you forget what day it was and where you were. “You’ve already been a great help. I suppose I should go and look around the wall for Frederick?”

“He did say he’d be back to-”

There was a heavy knocking sound on the wooden doors across the chamber. Right after the fourth knock, the door opened up and the familiar man with the bushy brown beard poked his head into the church inquisitively.

“Rhersirc?” Frederick called out into the church, before noticing Oakley and Father Ishri chatting by the front row of pews.

“Am I going to have to remind you every time that you have to refer to me as Father Ishri?” Father Ishri chastised Frederick as the larger man hurriedly strode towards the other two.

“Sorry, no, Father,” Frederick said with a grin. “I’ll try to remember.”

“You say that every time.” Father Ishri turned back to Oakley to explain. “My first name is Rhersirc.”

“That’s… a nice name,” Oakley said politely. Now that his head was becoming clearer rapidly, he could see that the Father was no more a human than Paerilith was. He was slender, almost to a sickly degree. Oakley could see his cheekbones threatening to cut out through his taught skin. His skin was ashen grey and he had blood red eyes with purple irises. It appeared that he had longer ears, pointed, but one was half-missing, as if torn off.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

No wonder he doesn’t have a very human-like name, Oakley thought. There was so much for him to learn. How many types of peoples did this world have?

“Nice as it may be,” Father Ishri said sternly, though with a slight smirk, “it is not my title- especially when I am working.”

“Do a job you enjoy and you’ll-” Frederick said.

“-Never work a day in your life?” Oakley finished, smiling at something he recognized.

“No…” Frederick said with an amused frown, “though that one works better, I might start using that. I was going to say- and you’ll enjoy that job all the time.”

“I think the young one’s phrase works better,” Father Ishri chuckled.

“Young one?” Oakley said, “I have a child.”

“I meant no offence. To me, you both are… well, young.”

“How old are you again?” Frederick asked. “Wasn’t it just last year that it was your-”

“- I don’t think we need to get into the specifics of it,” Father Ishri laughed.

“Over three hundred,” Frederick mouthed to Oakley silently and Father Ishri pretended to not notice, with an almost theatrical sigh.

“So,” Frederick said, “do you think he’s ready to get going again, Father?”

“I should say so,” Father Ishri nodded, “he seems to be recovering at a remarkable rate.”

“There’s hope for you yet,” Frederick laughed, leaning over and patting Oakley’s shoulder before helping him to his feet.

“Don’t push him too hard with the partying,” Father Ishri warned, “he might be a quick healer, but he’s still been through a lot recently. The boy looks half starved.”

“Then we’ll get him full up!” Frederick said.

“Boy?” Oakley said with a frown.

“You do need to get some more food into your diet, however,” Father Ishri said to Oakley, “but, I see no reason in keeping you here for any longer. If you find yourself at a loss for things to do, there is our monthly service being held in a couple days’ time. I suggest you pop along. It might help you get to know a few more people around town.”

“After tonight,” Frederick said with a grin, “everyone will know who he is.”

“I’m sure they’re already gossiping,” Father Ishri sighed.

“You bet they are.”

“I really can’t stay that long,” Oakley said. “I still have to catch up to Paerilith.”

“That reminds me,” Frederick said, snapping his fingers. Oakley looked over at him with hope, but that hope died quickly as Frederick looked apologetic. “I thought I knew a Paerilith. I was thinking about it on the watch earlier and I misremembered. I met this lovely couple of travelers a little bit ago. One of them was called Pete Tretwi. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more help with your search.”

Oakley closed his eyes as his one lead had fizzled out so quickly. Frederick had been trying to be helpful and the urgency of the situation must have caused him to panic slightly. It wasn’t his fault.

“I can’t say I’m not disappointed,” Oakley sighed, “but it’s okay. I can ask around later, or tomorrow.”

“There’s the spirit!” Frederick said, his face lighting up once again as Oakley looked for the silver linings in his situation. “Let’s get some food in you and introduce you properly to the rest of the gang.”

“The gang?” Oakley asked.

“My pals, soon to be your pals,” Frederick grinned. “You’ll love them, I’m sure of it. If you’re already shrugging off the effects of that herby thing the Father does, then I’m sure you can drink them under the table.”

“Be careful,” Father Ishri reminded Frederick.

“We will, we will!” Frederick said with a dismissive handwave. “Thank you again, Rhersirc.”

“It’s Father Ishri.”

“No, I’m Frederick,” Frederick laughed, prompting another exaggerated sigh from the monk.

“Go on, get yourselves out of here,” the Father said, “you’re going to wilt the plants with your humor.”

Oakley got up and gave the Father a quick smile.

“Thank you,” Oakley said. “I’ve been in a bit of a bind recently and both of you have really helped to lighten the mood. Your kindness and generosity has yet to be earned, but I will make this up to you both.”

“I’m sure you will,” Father Ishri smiled in return, before raising a hand to indicate towards the entrance to the church. “Go on, now, both of you. Have yourselves some fun, for me.”

“Will do, Father,” Frederick smiled, starting to walk towards the exit and waiting every couple of steps for Oakley to keep pace with his larger strides.

Oakley followed Frederick out into the cooler afternoon air. He must have been unconscious for a good few hours, considering most of the day had been burned away while he was in the church. Oakley looked back at the impressive building. It wasn’t the biggest church he had seen, but he hadn’t expected to see one in a town this size. Vines grew up the sides of the building, but not in a way that made it appear uncared for. They grew into patterns, following a natural order, of some sort.

Oakley smiled to himself, wondering what a Brator was, but acknowledging how peaceful the church felt, so alive with plants. The Father was clearly a very caring man and, if the rest of the town followed the same trend as Father Ishri and Frederick, this was bound to be quite the cheerful and positive experience- especially after multiple days of trying to simply survive. He would begin his search for answers tomorrow. He had to allow himself a moment to rest and relax, even if it was just for the evening.

Oakley didn’t realize that Frederick had stopped walking until he bumped into him. They were stood out on a cobblestone street, looking up at a building. Oakley guessed the architecture to be reminiscent of the medieval times, though he wasn’t a history buff. There was a warm glow coming from the windows, and a hanging sign that swayed above the entrance. ‘The Banished Bark Inn’ was the name of this establishment.

“I hope you like loud noises,” Frederick grinned as he walked ahead and opened the door for Oakley, the music and chatter hitting him so quickly it almost felt physical. Oakley braced himself for the cheerful environment and walked into the tavern.

Frederick placed a strong hand on his shoulder as they walked in, he bent down slightly so that Oakley could hear his words, almost whispered with excitement.

“I believe I owe you a round?” He said gleefully, “let’s see how well you handle your mead.”

Frederick stood back up and began steering Oakley in the direction of the bar, but Oakley bumped into someone else who was just leaving. Oakley looked around to apologize, but the man hurried out without looking around.

As Oakley turned back, considering making an offhand comment to Frederick about the rude man, he felt something in his hand. He looked down to see a crumpled piece of paper.

As Frederick started to call over the bartender, Oakley unfolded the paper to have a read of what it said. He quickly looked around, to make sure nobody was watching him too closely, and read on:

Hello stranger,

I heard you’re searching for someone by the name of Paerilith. Perhaps we may both be of use to one another. Meet me within the Chapel of Families, later tonight. I’ll be waiting.

A.B.

P.S. Tell no one.

Oakley wanted to tell Frederick immediately, but the man was clearly more interested in ordering their pints of mead at that moment. Oakley also didn’t want to burn away his only other lead. He had something to go on. Now he just had to stay sober enough to make the most of it.

“Here you go,” Frederick said, thrusting a full tankard of mead into Oakley’s hand. Oakley pocketed the scrap of paper quickly. “Let’s see just how many you can drink!”

Oakley wondered just how difficult it would be to stay sober when Frederick was your drinking buddy. It was going to be a long night.