—RYNE—

I was not sure if I felt scared or excited when the vines carried us underground. The thrill was in my throat. Years I wondered what it would feel like to ride on horseback. And now the first thing I experienced in fast travel was the way of roots and vines. I closed my eyes to protect them from dirt that flew to my face. When the vines released me, I barely had time to compose myself when I saw myself face to face with a strongly built woman with short hair.

She was standing just beyond a village wall made of dark trees. We were under the glow of many torches attached to the walls. Scouts stood on makeshift wooden towers. By her appearance, I knew that this was Agate, the acting elder of the village of Kent. It seemed she was waiting for us to appear.

She blinked at me first, taking in my appearance. Then she threw a questioning look at Woodrow. He simply shrugged and told her that the forest had taken me with him that night. I must solve a purpose here, it seems.

“What is your name?” She asked, kneeling at eye level. She searched my face.

“Ryne,” I said. “I don’t have the sickness. I just look like this.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “You don’t look much of a fighter, Brother Ryne. In body. But I see a fighting spirit in your eyes. If it is the forest’s decision for you to come, then I welcome you to Kent.”

Agate whistled and village doors opened. Villagers already craned their necks from within, looking at who their leader had brought. They seemed to be expecting someone. They carried and passed torches, their faces glowing orange near the flames. When they saw Woodrow, they cheered and clapped. Children tugged at their parent’s sleeves. They pointed and giggled. The maidens of this village were braver than the villages we built or encountered. They did not hide at all their affection towards Woodrow, even when they only met him just last night. Woodrow nodded and waved at every one of them. It was a familiar sight.

Woodrow whispered to me as Agate led us inside. “As you can see, she isn’t easily shaken. But keep your hood down.”

When they saw me bobbing beside Woodrow, the villagers of Kent slowly became guarded. Some of the smiles receded if not replaced with a firm straight line. This, too, was familiar to me. Being with Claude and being in a secluded monastery with my brothers had given me the freedom to show my appearance. The villagers grouped behind us as we passed them, gathering close to a communal fire. I knew that if I was not with Woodrow or Agate, I would not be trapped here for questioning.

“Thank you,” Agate said suddenly. We stopped near a great house made of strong forest hardwood. The elder’s house. Her father’s house. Her house. Hm. So, it was entirely up to the forest who gets to make furniture and homes out of its trees. “You saved my people, Woodrow. Without you, there would be casualties.”

“Well, me and the alpha wolf,” Woodrow said before he realized what Agate just said. He looked at her with a measured expression. “No one died? Harlan, is he…?”

Agate went rigid for a moment, saying nothing as she climbed up the small steps leading to her doors. She swung them open. “He’s… you’ll see.”

The room was dark save for a torch attached to a wall in the far corner. In the shadows were a handful of men and women sitting on cots and quietly talking. They were drinking from wooden cups and passing around bowls of gruel. Their faces and arms were marked by gashes but I saw now grievous wound in sight. They looked up expectedly at Agate and broke into faces of glee when they saw Woodrow.

“All right, you can go outside. But no roughhousing.” Agate jerked her thumb to the door and we stepped aside to let the warriors pass, save one man. “Any improvements?” She asked the man. The man shook his head sadly and was dismissed.

In the corner was a big shaking figure directly below the only torch in the house. A man was groaning softly, his breaths hitched when we got closer enough to hear.

“Harlan, it’s Agate. I’ve brought someone to see you.”

For all the time I heard her speak tonight, this was the softest. There was a large wooden basin of water with a clean rag floating in it. She kneeled next to him and proceeded to wash Harlan’s arms and forehead. Woodrow stood. I saw his fists clench. I walked past Woodrow slowly to see the man lying on the cot.

Harlan looked to be an imposing figure, but in that cot, shivering as he gripped tightly on thick wool blankets, he looked small. I supposed his skin looked a natural brown even without the sunlight, but that was only based on the way it looked now; washed away like old wood on the shore. He bit his lip and blinked rapidly at the flame. He did not flinch when Agate wiped his sweat, but after she was through, Harlan reached one free hand towards the torchlight, letting it hover there before dropping it back to his side and shivering.

“I have checked his body for any other battle wounds. So did our healer. Any marks from a dart with poison or a poison-tipped arrowhead that grazed his skin. But there was nothing save for two small holes in his neck.”

Woodrow squirmed when Agate showed him the two purple dots on Harlan’s neck. Wordlessly, I inspected the bite wound and how it affected Harlan. I touched his arm and neck. I checked his pulse. He was not so feverish, after all. His heart, though beating loudly, did not race. I felt Woodrow move behind me.

The moment Harlan saw him, he sprung to life. He meant to grab Woodrow, fingers reaching for his face. Woodrow jumped back, alarmed.

“You keep whispering to me in my sleep. Your red hair. It’s the only thing I see in the blackness. Join me, please. Please…”

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“He’s delirious…” Agate said softly, biting her thumb. She stared at Harlan’s flailing arms.

He was mumbling incoherently now, whispering only for Woodrow’s name over and over again. Woodrow’s face crumpled, and his body wanted to hide in the shadows in shame. I knew what he remembered. It was the villagers of Fairstep: how he charmed them into husks for a long while. When we left the monastery, they were left mute, unable to plow the fields and do their chores without guidance and repeated orders. Harlan was now feeling the same effects. All he thought about was Woodrow.

I pleaded with Agate. “Elder, could you please leave us for a moment? Just us three. If you don’t mind.”

She locked eyes with me, and then at Woodrow. He nodded at her. “I’ll just be outside these doors.”

She gave Harlan a long look before she closed the doors behind her. Not even seconds after she did, Woodrow spat, “I didn’t mean to!” He was pressing the back of his thumbs on his closed eyes. “I always did not mean to… what do we do, Ryne? Can you help him? Can he be saved?” His voice shook.

I closed my eyes and focused on Gaelmar. I asked in my heart what I must do. For a long time, there was silence, save for Harlan’s spasms and sharp inhalations. He was still searching for Woodrow, whispering his name. Soon, though, I felt a tangible warm force flowing from Harlan. I followed this thread back to the door and realized that there was a strong warm connection between Harlan and Agate. I called Woodrow and told him what Gaelmar was showing me. He snapped his fingers and quickly told me the nature of their relationship, and how Harlan fancied Agate, ever since their days of training. I opened my eyes to silence. Woodrow was caressing Harlan’s brow, the man’s head on his lap.

“He was picking the flowers he wanted to give her before I…” Woodrow faltered. “There now, Harlan. I am here. You have been longing to see me again, yes? You poor thing, always missing out on all the action. You must be with your leader always.”

Harlan stopped shivering as Woodrow held him. His big hands wrapped around Woodrow’s slender arms. Harlan murmured as Woodrow crooned to him. “I am sorry,” Woodrow kept saying in his ear. “I am sorry. Come back to us, Harlan. Come back to Agate. Remember her, your love for her.”

For a moment, Harlan’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at Woodrow as if he was beginning to see him through his haze. But then he closed his eyes again and his breath hitched. An idea started to form in my head. And as I did, I heard it: a soft breath in my ear. I could not make it out, but I felt what it told me to do.

“These flowers. I have a strong feeling that we need them to break your charm.”

Woodrow was silent for a moment. He looked at the wooden floorboards and considered a plan that he was brewing. “I think I know what must be done.” He went for the door. He stopped when he was about to pull it open. “If only I could charm people into healing themselves.”

Woodrow slipped outside. While he was gone, I looked at Harlan’s shaking figure once more. His eyes were glued back to the flame, searching for the familiar red hair that charmed him. Charm people into healing themselves, Woodrow said. I wonder…

I heard the stirring of warm wind inside me again. It whispered a few words from Old Yarbro, the Language of the Saints. It filled my lungs and my breath with what to say next. The words were familiar. It was like the Prayer of Awakening I uttered when rousing the granges and cloister garth, mixed with the Prayer of Dispelling the miasma every day. But mostly, it felt like the Prayer of Banishment or Silence I cast to keep Blake still.

Woodrow returned with a confused-looking Agate. She was holding the lilies that Harlan must have wanted to give her. “Stand near him,” I said to her. “His mind’s confused, and what he needs now is an anchor to ground him before his mind slips completely. Talk to him. Remind him of the good times you shared.”

Agate sat next to Harlan again. For a moment, she just stared at the body. Then she punched her fist into the floorboards. “Rise, soldier! How long will you lay there swaddled like a babe? You had this big talk of working together just last night and now you leave me by myself taking care of this village. Nay, Harlan. Fight with me. Lead with me as you promised.”

We watched her and listened as her tone became gentler as she recounted their childhood together. The warm wind in me pooled in my heart. Now. I went with them and sat cross-legged opposite Agate and touched Harlan’s chest and neck, where Woodrow had bitten him.

I whispered to Harlan. “Get out of the darkness and listen to her words, Harlan of Kent. Remember her. Remember yourself.”

I focused on the stories of their childhood as Agate recounted them. The times they snuck away to collect wild berries. The tricks they played on Agate’s father and his men. The time they rode and tamed a forest boar. The first time they drew weapons against each other. It felt as if I was cupping the words spilling out of her mouth and channeling that stream of fond memories to Harlan’s heart.

Harlan began to calm down. His breathing steadied as Woodrow’s spell lifted. I looked straight at Wilbur and beckoned him to come sit with me. He did so, unsure.

“When I give the signal, do the opposite of what you did and release him. When you charm people, you say that you only need to pull them to you when certain requirements have been met, yes?” Like arranging locks of their hair or doing something they would like, Woodrow had said, once. “Now, push away.”

Woodrow understood. As Agate turned away to show Harlan the white lilies he nurtured for her. Woodrow whispered calmly to Harlan, “I release you to your love, Harlan.” His eyes glowed warm green.

Agate spun around just in time for Woodrow to take a step back. “And this is what caused your demise you amend fool! You could have… you could have given this to me any day, and I would have accepted them. You could have…” Agate’s voice faltered and wiped fat tears from her eyes. She bit her lips. “First my father, then you too?”

“I did not want to upset you further…” Harlan croaked out softly. “You found them. I… am glad that you like them.” Harlan smiled at Agate. “I’m not going anywhere,” he added.

Agate looked as if she was struck. Then, slowly, a blush spread across her face. She gripped the stem of the flowers as if she wanted to throttle Harlan with it, to shove it down his throat, to wrap it around his neck.

Harlan turned to look at me and Woodrow. “Though it looks like I I manage to find myself going somewhere after all…” He looked around the room, lost and confused. “What am I doing inside the elder’s cottage? Where are the others? Who are you?” He said to me. Then he focused his gaze on the figure slowly retreating to the corner. “Woodrow?”

They stared at each other wordlessly. I can almost feel the thoughts forming behind Harlan’s confused stare.

Agate spoke. “Easy, Harlan. The little monk is Ryne. He is one of Woodrow’s brothers. It seems the ark forest has taken a liking to their mysterious brotherhood. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Harlan said quickly. “But… I am not sure what happened. One moment I was with Woodrow over there, then I felt a sharp pain graze my neck, and then nothing. I just felt cold.” He raised himself and cracked his neck and fingers. I noticed that Woodrow’s bite wounds had gone. “My muscles ache a little, but I’ll be fine.”

“Good. I’ll fill you in.”

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Woodrow said suddenly. He nudged me to get up and join him outside. Harlan was still looking at us oddly when we stood outside the porch.