My head pounded, voices and words receding, fading away into nothingness the tighter I held onto an obscure dream. I never dreamt. I only knew them from the countless stories children told before they were replaced by nightmares. When whatever dream I had completely slipped through my grasp, the pounding stopped.

Immediately, I looked around for my brothers. Wilbur and Woodrow were a crumpled mess on the floor, still slumped in their respective corners. Knox was nowhere in sight; there was a space in the stone mound that buried him where his body should be.

Slowly, they began to stir awake. It was still nighttime, the smoke going out the huge church doors. Wilbur and Woodrow mirrored each other; hands grasping hair, wincing. I helped Wilbur up, surprised that I could lift him. We stared at each other for a moment, helping his eyes focus on me. Then I dropped his hand and offered mine to Woodrow, who was sitting patiently.

We all silently regarded each other.

“Well, shit,” Woodrow said.

“Indeed,” Wilbur said.

“Hm,” I said.

Their ears were pointed, their teeth sharp. Their nails were longer, sharper, and their skin paler than before. Their eyes glowed in the darkness. Woodrow’s green eyes and Wilbur’s hazel ones had a hint of red in them. The veins on my skin were evident, dark purple against the paleness. We all had dark shadows under our eyes that did not smudge away when we rubbed them.

Ash blanketed the stone floors, stirred up by the wind. We were all touching our bodies and looked like we were about to retch. Blake was inside us, and we were not sure what that meant. Was he in our brains, in our hearts? Did he reside in our thoughts?

“I heard him,” I said.

Woodrow and Wilbur looked at each other, nodded, confirming that they too heard Blake inside them.

“And I heard another voice.” I closed my eyes before losing consciousness. “Different from Blake’s. Male. Warm and… oddly friendly.”

Woodrow raised a brow. “How many voices do you have in you? Is this something we should be worried about?”

“What did it say?” Wilbur was about to check my temperature. I saw his hand twitch.

“That he would always be here so long as Blake was.”

“How comforting,” Woodrow replied.

“No name? No other message?” Wilbur asked.

“I feel… freer? I can’t sense Blake’s pull anywhere. Which is quite strange knowing full well that he’s in all of us.”

“I do.” Wilbur’s shoulders fell. His hands hovered over his chest. “But not quite as tight as before. Not chained, more like a loose ribbon wrapped around.”

“Come to think of it…” Woodrow’s hands hovered around his neck, too.

I closed my eyes, and felt this gravity, this force, wrapped around my heart. I could almost touch it, like I could twist the thread they mentioned with my fingers, and pull.

Wilbur and Woodrow’s surprised grunts made me look up at them. They scuttered forward, arms outstretched as if they’d just tripped.

“What did you do?” Woodrow asked.

“Nothing…” I released the sensation from my fingers. They stood back and arranged themselves. I explained to them what I felt. Woodrow scratched his head and Wilbur merely looked.

“So, we’re tied to you now? Is that it?” He groaned, massaging his temples. He spun around and paced. “My head is pounding and I’m tired of thinking and wondering. From the way my head is getting stuffed with cotton, I’d say we have about an hour until sunrise. How are the crypts? We should go there.”

So we did. It remained mostly undamaged. Wilbur’s equipment wasn’t here. There was no lab, just an empty space of stone.

“All right…” Woodrow again started pacing around getting antsy, nodding to himself as he listed points. “Thinking about our existence is a waste of time, because, where do we even begin? The only ones who know are deranged lunatics. One’s away somewhere and one’s a demon inside us, and I doubt any of them would be kind enough to shed some light on our past.

“How are we certain that we won’t get possessed again.”

“We don’t. That’s another thing. But something about Ryne makes us calm. This opens up a ton of questions about why Blake kept him around."

“There’s also the prayer that Knox wants me to recite.” I squirmed remembering it. “Somehow it felt wrong. Like I was blaspheming instead of praising.”

“What prayer?”

I sucked a breath and recited the words.

Then it came; a dreadful feeling that was colder than ice. It was chilling the air, but suddenly, in a strike of ice to my gut, I felt oddly strong. Wilbur and Woodrow felt the same and both shushed me. Then what sounded like laughter in the darkness of the crypts, in the caverns of our minds. We hugged our arms.

“I’ll never do that again,” I promised.

Woodrow pondered over something. “Wilbur, how many times have you remembered ever leaving the monasteries?” Wilbur was about to answer, but then, his lips just quivered, and looked at Woodrow helplessly. “Me too. I’ve never remembered. Except a feeling of ice kind of like that.”

“Each time we left, the world seemed to get worse.”

Woodrow snapped his fingers. “Exactly.”

Wilbur considered this. “I wish I’d spend more time outside the dungeons and infirmary. You’re right, I didn’t piece that together.

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“You were kept docile,” I said. “Knox planned that. And he has the power to take away memories if he’s strong enough.” I told them what happened to poor Ansel and his friends back at Hollowed Fairstep monastery. “If not him, then Blake.”

“They were all using us. But what’s so special about Knox?”

“He seemed more aligned with Blake’s ideas. Knox seemed desperate about maintaining a new order and an ideal society where we could roam. But I think he also didn’t know what was truly going on. Blake cast him aside, just like that, along with all of you. Maybe he was being used as well.” I don’t know why I said this but, “Maybe Knox was an outcast in his past life and wanted a society where he could be on top.”

Wilbur and Woodrow considered this. “Maybe you’re too kind.”

Woodrow breathed in. “Yet another mysterious thing to add to the mystery box.” He shook his head. “So… cover’s blown… soldiers would probably track us down, but thankfully, none of the villagers apart from the ones we…” he did not finish the sentence, “most of them don’t know us. The survivors might, but I’m not sure they’d be willing to find or fight us again after Blake’s whole flying-as-a-gigantic-demon-bat spectacle.”

Wilbur and I listened to him rant. I had almost forgotten that he had a mind for strategy, and we liked how he condensed information regarding the outside world.

“They will most likely warn the nearby towns, along with that commander’s words. Thankfully, we were kept scarce and trapped in our respective stations, and always had our hoods covering our faces. At least Knox did something right. But the commander himself saw us… in a most barbaric manner. He will insist that there is a real threat to whoever is higher than him. One of those knights, I suppose. Then again, they’re busy protecting the kingdoms, and everyone’s out for themselves.”

I remembered the elder’s son charging his neighbor with the knife. I remembered that there were outlaws hiding about.

“They’re probably off, treating the wounded and finding new settlements for survival. We should be safe for now and flee while they’re busy,” Woodrow finished.

“Up north,” I said immediately. They looked at me. I did not know it myself, but it was as if the answer sprung from my lips. I went along with it. “Maybe we should continue up North, far from here.

“Swithin did bring good news there. He said the air felt calmer where the mountains were. Maybe it’s worth checking out. In any case, it’s far far away from here, and their horses and men will have trouble climbing the path.”

“As for the sun… then we’ll just bury ourselves like we used to? Or should we…” Wilbur inclined his head in my direction. Oh. The coffins. They could make coffins and bury themselves deep in the earth every night as I sleep on top of their mounds in the mornings.

We all agreed to it. It’s a risky move, but better than staying here. After the planning wore off, we melted.

“It has been too long,” Wilbur said as he smoothed my hair. Woodrow approached, and then, as one, we hugged.

I wish I could have hugged Ealhstan and Swithin. Wait. I concentrated again on the ribbon in my chest. Yes, I felt them! There were more threads than us three. Four... five… six.

I looked up at them. “We’re all alive.”

“Knox could be trouble,” Wilbur said.

“We’ll avoid him. Can you sense the distance, Ryne?” Woodrow asked.

I closed my eyes and nodded. Then another question. “What about Ealhstan and Swithin?”

“I think that it’s better for us to stay apart, Ryne. Blake’s… essence targeted Ealhstan and Swithin the most. And I have a theory that Ealhstan knew that Blake’s power would be weakened if we split apart. That’s why he threw Swithin away rather than back here with us. Our powers did come from Blake, after all.”

“But if reuniting is the way to keep him away, does that mean we will never get to see our brothers?” I did not like being apart from Ealhstan.

We looked at each other. “I don’t know, Ryne. But you can feel them, can’t you? You can sense if they’re fine and in trouble?”

I nodded.

“Then maybe for now, we stay away from each other until we figure out what… what just happened. Our entire existence… and we haven’t seen each other for so long. Woodrow’s right, it’s too much to handle.” He breathed and hugged me. “We must stay safe for now.”

“Oh.” Woodrow suddenly said, stepping back. “It had suddenly occurred to me, my dear chaps, that if we get there, what would we do? Matter of fact, as we get there, how will we sustain ourselves? How about Ryne?”

It was a serious question. Uncomfortable as it made us all, we need to address it now.

Wilbur asked, “Can you still use your powers?”

Woodrow sensed it within himself. “I think so,”

“Good. I think I can use mine as well.” Wilbur looked at me, and I saw from his gaze that from here on out, I was included in their meetings. “We’ll scour the remains of Saint Korbin. Ryne, as we sleep, start making bread, then collect all that needs to be collected from each place. Start with the infirmary. There still may be bottles there. Seeds and ores.”

“It’s a good thing that you are never without your satchel,” Woodrow observed.

Wilbur patted it, opened it up, and looked into its contents. He sighed appreciatively. “I have the latest medicines here with me, along with some basic medicines as a precaution.” He gave me a summary of what he has been up to.

He had invented a new medicine after the one from Fairstep.

The one he named Kinbrow was a direct cure for the weird sickness that struck Joserson; that strong fever with black bruise-like marks on the skin. While Nest was for the loss of vital fluids in the system. They accompanied each other to heal and replenish. He showed me the bottles; one bright blue and one bright pink.

“Do they taste horrible?” I tapped them. “How many of these did you make?”

“Three Kinbrow and one Nest.” Wilbur stowed them away. “I’m thinking that maybe we would encounter several households that need medical assistance. I can give them my wares as you charm them. If ever there are little ones, Ryne, it’s up to you to distract them.”

“So back to the usual game, then?” Woodrow sighed. “Fine, what better way is there?”

“It’s an exchange that I do not take lightly. But, yes. What choice do we have? We have to feed lest we turn into ravenous beasts.” He winced as he touched his stomach. “I feel the hunger now, to be honest. It’s more insistent than before. Part of me thinks that we’re fulfilling Blake’s plan yet again.”

“We’re not. We’re just surviving. Like the rest of the people in this world,” I said.

Woodrow made a mocking surprised face. Then, both of them yawned. They looked at me. I nodded. It won’t be long until they collapse onto the stone floor.

Wilbur blinked and reached for my hands. “I know we have a lot to process, but how do you feel that you witnessed what happened?”

I blinked back. I knew what he was referring to. “Fine. It… It’s fine. You weren’t in control, and you’ve already prepared me for what a body looks like dissected. It… I don’t think it has affected me as much. Either that’s a problem in itself… who knows? I’m just shocked or I’m actually just old and I can handle it. Or something in me is protecting me from the full impact of what I saw.” I looked at Woodrow. “You don’t need to hide it from me.”

Wilbur sighed. “I’m sorry, Ryne. We should have told you before, but, I was scared, and I didn’t know that it would ever lead to this. I would never have imagined that this is what would happen to us.” He made to retch, reeling against the oath to not harm anyone, fill him with darkness. Woodrow soothed his back. “All those people… I healed some of them.”

“It was a cruel thing Blake did. To hurt all of us. Move on, Wilbur. It will only get worse for you if you carry this. It is not our fault, yet we need to survive.”

I nodded. “So, is that what all the bloodletting and feeding was all about?” I knew, but wanted a confirmation.

“We can’t use our powers properly without feeding first. We tried not using it at all, but then we just wilted and starved and turned into a frenzied state. If famished, we would enter a bloodlust state where we forget friends from foes. I do not even remember what truly happened, All I knew was,” he winced, “ was life dripping into me, sweet nectar flowing into me. It’s better if we feed slowly than not feed at all.”

Then they both yawned deeply, their eyes getting hazy. Wilbur whispered my name, and then he lay down, their arms protecting their chests.