—RYNE—

I returned to Rothfield late that night when I felt that Blake was about to stir within me. Lydia had left us alone on the porch. Claude and I just talked. It felt good to talk. He shared his frustrations with me and I listened. And I? I wanted to share all that was happening in Rothfield and all that has happened in the years before he was even born. It did not matter that I was older than him in years: we were both young, still. I wanted to tell him there were other brothers that I still feel whenever I’m asleep. I feel their connection tugging at me in my dreams. In the end, I just told him about the villagers we met that night when we purified Ember.

“Come back tomorrow,” I said to him. “You’re always welcome at Rothfield Monastery.”

Wilbur and Woodrow waited for me as I finished my prayers right under Saint Gaelmar’s statue. They told me everything, from the everbanes to the hearts and livers. I simply nodded. I had no objections. The dead may rest more easily knowing that they have contributed to the survival of the living. I even think that this was how it was supposed to be, seeing as I can barely dispel, purify, and banish with the limited amount of power bestowed on me.

Besides, I was almost doing the same thing with the offerings of the villagers to Gaelmar. They are slowly recognizing his name and calling him. I was harvesting their beliefs. I feel myself getting stronger because of that.

___

Ember was looking out into the trees when dawn broke. Claude merged from the arched path, carrying his sword and wooden staff. He stopped as he saw the settlement nearby. The villagers of Kent looked at him. Harlan and Agate stopped their woodcutting and woodbuilding. I called them all over and introduced them.

“Sturdy sword. You know how to use it?” Agate asked.

“Brother Woodrow is teaching me how to fight,” Claude answered.

“He seems to be a sturdy lad,” Harlan said. Then he mocked-punched Claude’s shoulder. Claude his fist with his hand, his small finger curling around Harlan’s large fingers. “Quick reflexes.” They both approved.

The villagers of Rothfield seemed to approve of me having friends. There wasn’t anyone among them that was close to my age. He admired the crops steadily growing in our soil. “Give me your seeds, Claude. I shall plant them here.”

He did so, shyly. We grabbed the rusty hoe from the toolshed and began to sow the seeds, a couple of paces below the first area of his grains. Claude wiped his brows and admired the healthy brown stalks. Ember appeared out of nowhere and leaped on him. She licked his dusty face.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“I missed you too,” Claude giggled.

We wrote on the soil again. The children watched us from the distant settlement, thinking we were drawing. They continued staring until their parents called them back to do their daily chores. Claude stared at the little huts sprouting where dark trees once stood.

“I’m glad that you gave them shelter. It’s making the grounds look like a proper monastery now.” He squinted at the builders. “What are they doing? The ones on the other side. Are those benches?”

I brought him to where Agate was supervising her team. “We’re making the pews for the church,” she said.

Claude watched as they smoothed the bark with their tools. He looked at me. “I want to help.”

I remembered he was a talented woodcarver. I didn’t want to say no, so I let him show his skills to Agate. He helped smooth and carve the structure of the chairs. He borrowed one of their chisels and carved an ornate flower on the side of the pews. On another, he carved the simple version of the mark of the Saints.

Agate inspected his work. “Fine craftsmanship. Nimble fingers and strong hands. You’ll make a fine husband someday.”

Claude chuckled. He asked me with his eyes. I told him, “Aren’t you busy with your farm work?”

“There’s nothing to grow, Ryne. We just sowed our hops, radish, and cabbage. It would take a while, if not all summer, for them to grow with the poor quality of our soil. At least here, I’ll feel useful.”

I left him to it and went back inside for prayers. When I got out, there was a crowd watching Claude chip away at the wood. I saw that he had made a small carving of a duck for one child. The children gathered around it as the villagers clapped. Even Agate was amused. Harlan ruffled Claude’s curly dark brown hair. I smiled. He must feel so alone too, even though he was with his mother and little sister. He must miss his other older brothers.

When they had finished a pew, the builders brought them inside the church. I made sure to light the candles above. Claude hovered in the doorway. I just realized that I have not invited him inside the church. Not once. I grabbed his arm softly and led him inside. He looked at the entirety of it all.

“It’s so big.’ he squinted at the lonely pillar on the platform. “Who’s that?”

“Saint Gaelmar. Our Patron Saint.”

Claude inched closer. “Oh. Yes, I recognize him now. This was him at the final battle. He’s usually depicted as being young, like close to Woodrow and Wilbur’s ages.”

My brothers came out of the shadows as if they were called. Woodrow hurried to Claude’s side and immediately teased him for not coming back sooner. Wilbur… Wilbur actually looked happy that he was here. “It’s good to see you well,” he said. Then they went off to help arrange the single pew.

Claude and I looked at that long bench and imagined the church complete with these dark seats. Rothfield Monastery was improving. The crops were growing. People have begun to make this their next home. The flowers are blooming. This was the start. Rothfield was slowly revealing itself to us, one building at a time.