He heard the front door open and close before the sun had even finished rising. Rian didn’t open his eyes, but he doubted he would go back to sleep. It was always hard to go back to sleep after he had the dream. Arwel must have already left. Lately, he left before Rian and their parents were up and didn’t return until after sunset. The floor in the main room creaked, then Rian heard voices. The house was so quiet, he could hear what his parents were saying easily.

“Where is he going during the day?” Mae, Rian’s mother, asked. “He’s gone from before sunrise until sunset, and he’s not with Rian. I see Rian alone in the village.” Silence followed those words.

“He’s always been interested in necromancy,” Andred, Rian’s father, said so quietly Rian almost didn’t hear him. “I see him going into the library most days. Maybe that’s where he is all day.”

“It’s a small library…” Mae sounded worried.

“I checked,” Andred said. “There are no books on necromancy there.”

The silence came again and didn’t end. Rian opened his eyes. There was no point in lying there if he wasn’t going to sleep. He got up, dressed, and joined his parents for breakfast. Mae’s long light brown hair was tied back. There were dark circles under her dark green eyes, the same color as Rian’s. Andred sighed, running a hand through his short black hair, which was almost as messy as Rian’s that morning.

The three of them said nothing during breakfast, but that was usual lately. They were worried about Arwel too. Rian finished his porridge and set out into the small village of Fen. He used to spend the day wandering the forest, but it wasn’t safe away from the crowd of the small village. People had been going missing for the last year.

Rian stopped at the edge of the forest and sighed. He and Arwel used to explore the forest together, but lately his brother barely even spoke to him. Rian knew what his brother was like when he was in the middle of learning something. His parents were right, Arwel had always been interested in necromancy. Rian thought back to a conversation he and his brother had in the forest, three years ago. Arwel had been fourteen at the time, and Rian was twelve.

Arwel had grown over the winter and seemed to tower over Rian, but he walked slowly enough that he wouldn’t leave Rian behind. It was a warm morning, but that was normal for the season of Green, the warmest part of the year.

“I saw why father always has his left hand covered,” Arwel said. “Part of it rotted away to the bone. That means he must have used necromancy at some point. I suspect Halbert is the one who taught him.”

Halbert was a friend of their parents. He stopped by at least twice a year, and he always kept his cloak on with the hood up.

“Did you ask father about it?” Rian asked.

Arwel smiled briefly. “No. I don’t think he would tell me.” He sighed. “But I do want to learn more about it.”

Rian shivered. “I don’t.”

Arwel laughed. “You’re just scared.”

The nightmare of the night before was still fresh in Rian’s mind. The dark place with the voices and dead things.

Arwel frowned, seeing his brother wasn’t laughing. “They’re only dreams. The voices can’t hurt you.”

“What if they can?” Rian asked quietly.

Arwel stopped walking and turned to face Rian, looking down at him. “They can’t hurt you. Just don’t listen to them. They probably aren’t saying anything you need to hear.”

Rian thought about this. “I’m not sure I should ignore them.” He wasn’t sure why he said that, but it was a feeling deep inside of him.

Arwel started walking again, faster now. Rian had to hurry to keep up.

“Your nightmares are probably why you find the idea of necromancy unnerving,” Arwel said.

Rian wasn’t sure that was it, but he said nothing.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The two walked in silence again. They looked a lot alike, though Arwel had their mother’s nose and chin, and their father’s dark gray eyes. They both had short black hair, though Rian’s was always messier than his brother’s. Over the next three years, Arwel was with Rian less and less. Until he was always off somewhere, always seemed deep in thought, and never told Rian what he was up to.

Rian came back to the moment, still staring at the forest. It was the start of Green, a warm morning just like that one three years ago. Arwel was learning about necromancy, but where? He wouldn’t be so distant if he was still searching. He was acting how he had when he learned all about plants. Arwel had only asked their father about necromancy once. Rian still remembered how pale and still their father had gotten. He had glanced at his left hand, the one he always had a cloth wrapped around.

“You should stay away from it,” he said. He hadn’t said anything more, but he had looked worried.

Rian caught sight of someone entering the forest further along it. This wasn’t the first time Rian had seen his brother going into the forest, despite the four missing villagers. The village may not be much safer, but at least there were other people out during the day. The village hunters no longer entered the forest until the middle of the day, and they always stayed together.

Where could the missing villagers have gone? Had something in the forest eaten them? Rian turned away from the trees, not wanting to think about this any longer. On his way further into the village, Rian passed the herbalist, an older man. Arwel had been apprenticed to the herbalist, but he had left the apprenticeship after only a few days and hadn’t sought out another one. That was another thing their parents worried about.

Rian would start his apprenticeship at the blacksmith’s the next year. His father was the village smith. Arwel had no interest in the forge, so it was Rian who would be their father’s apprentice. Rian stopped near the well at the center of the village. Ora was on the other side, her waist length dark gray hair tied in its usual braid. Her cold gray eyes narrowed as she frowned at him. She came around the well.

“You must join the Sancta soon,” Ora said. “Before it’s too late for you. It’s already too late for Arwel. You and your brother are doomed because of the magic your father accepted in the fight against Unris.”

Rian didn’t want to join the Sancta, but he didn’t dare tell Ora. She was the Elder of Fen, and she had never been friendly to Rian and his family. Thankfully Ora was done. She turned and walked away. Rian was curious about what had happened, about his parents’ part in defeating the Goddess of Night and Day, but they had barely spoken of it when Arwel had asked. All Rian knew was that it was back then that his parents had met Halbert.

The village was small, but Rian wandered around most of the day. He missed walking in the forest, but he didn’t dare go in there. Fen was out of the way from most places and didn’t get many travelers. The sun was setting when Rian headed home. Even with lots of people heading home for the night it was easy to spot someone he hadn’t seen in the village before.

The traveler was tall and wore a ragged dark gray cloak, with threads hanging loose around the dirty hem. The deep hood hid the traveler’s face. They stopped and seemed to stare at Rian.

“Can I help you?” Rian asked.

The occupant of the cloak laughed quietly, a low, oddly unnerving sound. “No,” he said. “You have potential, but I already have an apprentice.” He continued on his way to wherever he was going.

Rian watched the man go for a moment. What had that been about? The sun was getting lower, and most of the villagers had gone inside. Rian hurried home. Arwel was already there, peeling potatoes in the kitchen.

“I didn’t see you in the village,” Rian said.

Arwel barely looked up. “I was around.”

What was he up to lately? Asking wouldn’t get any answers. Arwel wouldn’t tell them if he didn’t want to, and he apparently didn’t want to. He barely said anything during dinner. When Andred and Mae asked where he’d been, he told them what he’d told Rian. He’d been around the village. Rian lay awake worrying that night, about the disappearing villagers and his brother. Eventually he drifted into sleep, to the waiting dream.

The dark place smelled musty and old, as though he was in a cave deep underground. The darkness was blacker than any he’d seen before, but he knew he wasn’t alone. Whispers rose all around him, but he closed his eyes tight and ignored them. Despite his uncertainty it was the right thing to do, he never listened to the voices. Hands, cold and lifeless, touched his arms and back. Some of the hands were only bone.

He woke up to moonlight coming through the thin curtain over the window. It was still night. The dreams had been happening more often lately. What did the voices want from him? What were they? There was another voice he did listen to, one that had helped him several times, but he didn’t know whose voice it was. It wasn’t a voice Rian heard in the dream. The nightmare wasn’t what had woken him.

He heard the sound again, quiet and faint, from Arwel’s room next door. The creak was a sound Rian had heard many times during the day over the years. Another creak, then silence. Arwel had opened his window, then closed it. Rian got out of bed and moved to his window, looking out through a corner of the threadbare curtain. He was just in time to see Arwel running across the empty path through the village and into the forest.

Why was he going out there in the middle of the night? Rian stared at the forest edge, but his brother was already out of sight. Rian hesitated, then he let go of the curtain, letting it fall back over the window. He went back to bed. Was this the first time Arwel had left in the middle of the night? Maybe Rian just hadn’t heard him before. Now he was even more worried about his brother.

He lay awake listening most of the night. It was early in the morning when he heard Arwel come back. By the time Rian left his room, Arwel had already left for the morning. Rian had breakfast with his parents, not mentioning what he’d seen the night before. Not yet. He wanted to talk to Arwel, to find out what he was up to.