The church itself remained intact, though the benches lay scattered and broken. The fire from the cloister garth hadn’t touched the church yet, but the glow was spilling onto the floor. And then, we heard it, the sound of the horn and many hooves stomping the ground. I thought for a moment that reinforcements had come, as the message said, but the hooves stopped just outside the church doors.

The commander yelled. “Retreat! We’ve lost too many men! Take the survivors and get them to safety!”

Knox winced. “Argh! No! Get out of me! Get out of me!” He was clawing at his head and looking at Ealhstan. Ealhstan spat and slapped Knox to the ground, right towards the corner where I always stood. As Knox landed, the stones on top of him crumbled down, burying him. I thought that was the end of him, but the rocks groaned underneath. Unconscious.

The sounds of horses neighing and screaming villagers faded into the distance. We did not know if there were any survivors left inside. Even if we wanted to help them, we couldn’t.

The shadow and shade that was Blake, darker than the night, rose from the rubble where Knox lay. I thought he would appear as a man again, but before any one of us can react, the black mist rapidly went up to our noses and mouth.

“You shall not escape me.” Blake’s voice was inside our heads. His younger face appeared, handsome, stoic. “I am always with you, Ryne. Wherever yo will go, I will haunt you and the rest of your brothers.”

And then a blast of darknessm of ice-wind, like the mountains screamed at me. I saw Ealhstan drop to his back and squirm away. Blake was still trying to regain control of him. I banished the face away by blinking. I ran towards him and grabbed his big head. I summoned the warmth I felt when he comforted me against Knox’s bullying back at Trushire.

“You are far more powerful than he is, Brother. Fight him. Do not let him win.” Elastane’s eyes shot up, struggling to focus. His black iris turning red. I shouted, “think of houses like palaces and little children growing up there. Houses that can withstand harsh winters and storms. Think of cottages that will always shun Blake and never permit him to enter. Think of those.”

“Ryne,” he said, and then he opened his mouth and released a plume of smoke. the smoke howled and barreled through me and carried me into the air. It slammed me back at the ground. My brothers, dazed, all crawled to me. I held up a finger. I felt dizzy… but not because of Blake. He was not affecting me at all. I simply lost my balance.

“I am fine.”

“Your veins,” Wilbur said.

My veins were darker and more pronounced, like I was struck by lightning. But it did not hurt me. I shivered and heard Balke’s voice. There was smoke remaining from up in the air, circling around us like a sinister stormcloud, like a serpent coiling above.

We did not notice that we were inhaling it until we looked down and saw it go down our nostrils and ears, through our eyes and fingertips. We covered our mouths, but it still slipped through our fingers, through the fabric of our clothes. Most of the smoke, however, was flowing into Ealhstan. Blake needed his immense physical strength to crush his enemies, after all.

Ealhstan, upon realizing this, stormed away, flinging the doors open. He looked back at me, and said, “Take care,” and sped off, ground shaking.

Woodrow and Wilbur shook and hugged their arms. They looked at each other, backing away into separate corners, afraid to go near me.

“If anything happens to us. I want you to run–No, Ryne, promise me,” Wilbur begged.

“No,” I said, and stood firm.

“Ryne,” Woodrow said from his corner of the church. “Ealhstan’s plan would have been useless if you don’t run. I don’t know why you can withstand this, and why you’re here with us in the first place. But save yourself. Please. Save yourself so that you can save us.”

I stood firm. “If anything happens…” I trailed off.

We waited, with the smoke completely entering us. They closed their eyes and waited… and waited. The fire had died down, eating the concrete, incinerating the cloister garth. The church was the only one that remained. The last thing Ealhstan built. Sounds of stones crashing, but the church stood firm.

And then I felt, for all the world, sleepy.

So did my brothers. Wilbur fell first, then Woodrow, then me. I heard Blake’s voice clear in my head once more, repeating, “I am always with you.”

I succumbed to the darkness, and heard another voice answer me: mightier and gentler than Abbott Blake’s. When that voice spoke, I was rushed with warmth no fireplace can bring.

“And so am I.”