Now that there was nowhere to go, no destination set in front of him, Ceallach felt a lethargy threatening to swallow him up. He put himself to work at once to throw it off - hauling in firewood, chopping vegetables or mushrooms, hunting for pine cones, putting them in bags, smashing the bags against things for the precious seeds the cones were keeping...anything remotely useful or asked for. He didn't want to have any time to think about things that would make him slow down. If he did, he feared that he would curl up and stay that way. He mostly kept silent and busy.

There were a few stern-faced, quiet men who had come back to the village for the wedding. Their somberness seemed to match Ceallach's mood better than the cheerful and festive villagers, so he was curious about them. He noticed they were often around their tamed reindeer, speaking to them and taking care of their riding gear, and any activity that took them away from their animals made them quiet and sullen.

"Jacob was one of them," Joslyn explained. "But his beast was taken. We don't know who did it or why. Or what, perhaps. I don't know if he has the heart to bond to another beast."

In the meantime, Jacob worked as a carpenter, though he wasn't very good at it. Ceallach stayed by him often, helping stabilize Jacob's constructions. Jacob was a silent, watchful fellow, and Ceallach kept the silence in the woodshop out of his mind with musings on what the reindeer hunters would do now after they had left the village.

The majority of men in the village were not hunters, but rather miners who toiled in the mountain looming above them. As a result, after the wedding festivities had ended, the village would seem rather empty during the day, save for a few adventurous birds if the weather permitted. The women were often busy with the dressing, preparing, and roasting of food. Claire joined their duties without being asked. Sonja dawdled among them for a bit, watching over their goings on, and then helped Ceallach in whatever he was doing. She was the one who picked out the pine nuts from the bags he brought back, filled with powder and shattered cones.

There were a few small children from the younger couples. Ceallach would have offered to play with them, but they seemed intimidated by the celestial envoy. The only time he had seen them approach was when they had all gathered to give Ark a gift of oranges - a precious rarity - which the angel accepted solemnly.

All of this meant that most of the people Ceallach didn't already know were too busy or too shy to spend very much time with him. Without Rowan to give him lessons or assign him some task as training, he occupied himself with any stray chore he could snatch up. This endeared him to Joslyn, who gave him more to eat during meals and left him little treats, such as a bit of dried fruit, for him to find as he worked.

"That's a good man there," she would say at times when she saw him out and about. It would fill him with a sense of accomplishment, though it was a faint feeling.

Joslyn doted on Claire by easing her workload whenever she had the opportunity, which actually bothered Claire though she could not bring herself to say so. Joslyn also paid a special amount of attention to Sonja, especially after she heard that Sonja was the daughter of the nobleman who had taken Claire in. Ceallach assumed that Joslyn would have tried to spoil Ark as well, had the angel not made himself scarce by holing himself up in his room every day, buried under the covers as if he was freezing.

The nights were quiet except for the soft settling of snow on the roof and a faint, almost melancholy creaking.

----

"When do you think Rowan will be back?" Sonja asked, passing Ceallach a pine cone and climbing up higher in the tree. 

Ceallach looked up from his perch on a low-hanging branch. The higher branches still daunted him. "Whenever he's ready and done, I guess. He didn't let me know very much about what he was doing or why Iris wanted to see him. Maybe he doesn't know himself."

Sonja held a cone in her hand and contemplated it solemnly. "It just doesn't feel right. I mean, sure, it's a part of the deal, but celestial envoys stay together. Can she really split it up because she wants to?"

Ceallach bit the inside of his lip. "...Rowan said she can't hurt him. She also said she wouldn't keep him long..."

Sonja frowned at the cone and tossed it down. "Well, if she doesn't, she has a celestial envoy to answer to. If she doesn't help out with the curse, then she might land one herself. Let's hurry inside, I think it's starting to snow."

The two of them gathered up their cones and made their way back to Joslyn's house, joining a small crowd of men returning from their work. Ceallach paused in the doorway to look back at their forms vanishing into their houses. Sonja rubbed at her jaw with both hands with a thin groan and sat at the dining room table.

"Cheeks cold, dear?" Joslyn piped from the kitchen.

"No," Sonja said, smacking her lips with a bit of a grimace. "It's...my mouth. Or my teeth rather. They've been hurting for a while."

"Oh, well that won't do," Joslyn frowned. She took out a big pot and started putting the vegetables she was peeling into it. "Soup for tonight and tomorrow night and then some. You've got to give your teeth a rest."

Sonja looked like she was about to protest, then leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Ceallach slipped back outside to fetch a bucket of water and brought it into the kitchen.

"Now, I don't mean to pry or assume, but I can't help but wonder where you're from," Joslyn said, ladling water from the bucket into the pot. "We're very far from the sand-lands."

"I'm from somewhere out in the Inner Sea," Ceallach answered.

"What!" Joslyn grinned over her shoulder. "You, an islander?"

"That's...yes, I came from a tower on an island in the Inner Sea, somewhere in the center. I guess that makes me an islander."

Joslyn turned back to her pot and humphed, as if she was offended she guessed wrong. Ceallach stood about meekly to see if she was going to say or ask anything else, and when he was met with silence, he left to join Sonja at the table.

----

One cloudless day, Joslyn announced she was going into the forest to gather lichen and recruited Ceallach to accompany her without asking him his opinion first. He tried to mention that he hadn't the faintest idea how to tell different kinds of lichen apart, but she would hear no protests. So he followed along.

"You would say that Claire is a fine young lady, would you not?" Joslyn asked airily, stooping over to examine a fallen log.

"Yes, of course. She's a good friend of mine," Ceallach said.

"Very good. I heard from the celestial that she is unattached. That worries me," Joslyn stood to find another log.

These seemed like completely unrelated statements - though Ceallach wasn't sure what was meant by "unattached" - but he did not point that out. "She's doing fine regardless. Sonja treats her well."

"Oh! Sonja is a very good person, no doubt, but she is no man. She can't give Claire lasting security."

Ceallach opened his mouth to answer and changed his mind. He felt that Joslyn was wrong somehow, but didn't know what to say in response. So instead he shifted the basket he was holding to his other arm.

"Christoph, Claire's father, was my favorite brother, so naturally I want the best for his daughter. I hope you feel the same way."

"Everyone deserves the best," Ceallach said with conviction.

Joslyn turned back to grin at him and made a motion for the basket. "Well! I'm glad to you think so too."

From then on, Joslyn seemed to take a greater interest in him than usual. She gave him tasks that called upon his strength, had him help Claire whenever possible, and commented on Claire's work ethic whenever he was around. She would also figure out ways to exclude Sonja somehow. This greatly irritated Sonja after she had been shown so much hospitality before, but she only muttered complaints under her breath. Ceallach was also quite annoyed once he figured out Joslyn's intentions, though he didn't know why particularly. It left an angry ache in his chest he couldn't explain. Claire, on the other hand, responded by shrinking into herself out of embarrassment. This only made Joslyn more determined that she required Ceallach's help. Claire could not even do so much as begin sorting out some potatoes before Joslyn would bring Ceallach over and sit him down nearby.

He was busy at one such ridiculous task when he felt that he was going to snap. He could barely shell the nuts in front of him properly because of how frustrated and oddly hurt he was by it all, but he didn't know what to say or how to make it stop.

It was Sonja, sitting at the kitchen table with her arms crossed and looking dangerously icy, who did it for him. She said, enunciating very deliberately, "You're really quite determined to pair Claire off, aren't you?"

Joslyn had been watching Ceallach and Claire, as if scrutinizing their ability to work together, and nearly jumped when she heard the other speak, as if she had forgotten she could even be there. Her smile faltered momentarily as she thought. "Well! She might be your servant, but she is my niece. I'm just looking out for her, you know."

Claire leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. Ceallach felt that something was going to happen and held his breath. Joslyn was completely unaware of either of these reactions.

"Has it perhaps occurred to you," Sonja curled her lips back in a small snarl, her teeth oddly bright, "that the person you're trying to push her onto might already have someone in their life?"

Joslyn was stunned. "Really!" was her response after a full minute or two.

She was surprised, but not apologetic. This felt like an insult, and it was more than Ceallach could stand. He put down the nutcracker he was holding, got up, and pushed in his chair stiffly. No one stopped him as he left the kitchen, the house, and the village, not stopping until he found a wide, flat rock on a hill to sit on. Then he put his chin in his hands, closed his eyes, and sighed to keep his mind blank.

"Ceallach?"

He turned around to have a look at the speaker. Sonja stood meekly some distance away. He put up a hand in greeting.

"I hope what I said didn't upset you too much. I didn't mean to assume...but I had to say something to make her stop."

"It's alright," he said faintly.

"Can I sit with you?"

"Go ahead."

She had a seat next to him and folded her hands together. The two of them shared a peaceful silence.

"I don't know very much about Aisling. Who is she? A sister?"

Ceallach stared at the valley below him for a moment before he decided that yes, it would be best to think of her again, even if it might hurt or make him sad. It took him a few minutes to come up with the proper words. "She was the other."

"So, not family?"

"No. I'm sure of that. I'm one thing and she's another. But we were in the same place."

Sonja contemplated this. "...When Father died, it was just me and Claire. That was such a lonely and empty time. But that was just a few years - nothing compared to how you must've grown up. Just one other. Ever." She turned to him with a look full of emotion. "And when she fell asleep...I can't imagine how that must have felt for you."

He put a hand over his eyes. "Yes."

"What was she like?" Sonja asked gently.

Ceallach let out his breath in a long sigh. There was so much to describe but so few words to describe them with. "She is pretty," he said first, which he immediately felt stupid for because it was so lacking. "Like a bird. So thin and easy to hold. Head like the sky. Blue hair, eyes like a storm. No, a little clearer than that." He lifted his arms above his head and lay back so he was flat against the rock. He was a little angry he couldn't remember the exact shade of her eyes.

Sonja listened and hugged her knees to her chest.

"And she sang. About all kinds of things, everything. And she'd sing for me, just me, even though we were the only people in the world, as far as we knew."

Sonja opened her mouth to say something, then appeared to reconsider. After a moment, she asked, "Did...do - you love her?"

Ceallach blinked hard at that. "I feel...she is..." He was at a loss for words. He lifted his arms up and spread them out wide against the cloudy sky. "Like this. My heart's like this."

"Mmm," Sonja nodded, laying back against the rock to stare at the sky as well.

----

That night, Ceallach could not fall asleep. This did not make him feel angry or tired - rather, he felt a quiet sort of peace. He did not know what to make of it. He turned around on his bed lazily, weaving in and out of curling hair and blankets.

The night's usual creaking noise made him look up. In the darkness, he felt something was out of place. He scanned the room after his eyes had adjusted. The bed that Ark slept in was empty. Wary, but not worried, he got up quietly and walked down the hall. Sonja was peering out of her room as well. She put up a hand in greeting.

"Ark's not in our room," he whispered.

"The creaking's coming from that door," she said under her breath, pointing to a closed door near the staircase.

Wordlessly, they approached the door. Ceallach turned the knob as silently as he could. The creaking stopped.

Ark was wrapped in a heavy quilt and seated at the spinning wheel, head turned towards the two at the door. His seeing blind lay around his neck. "Really," he said in a slightly offended tone, "shouldn't you two be sleeping right now?"

For a moment there was no response. Sonja broke into a grin and said, "You look like a little old lady!"

Ark tucked his chin and turned away. Ceallach squinted into the darkness and frowned. "I thought you didn't like spinning wheels. So why are you here?"

"I had a bad experience concerning one. I don't dislike them," said the angel. "Do I need a reason to be here?"

"If you're here in the middle of the night, perhaps," Sonja said, though not maliciously. "We can hear you."

"I like to spin," Ark said defensively. "I missed doing it. Please leave me alone."

"Come on," Ceallach said softly, touching Sonja's shoulder. She looked back at him with a confused look. "The squeaking isn't that bad. Let him."

Sonja looked back, then nodded and went back to her room. Ceallach closed the door to the room with the spinning wheel and retired to his bed. After he had settled down, the creaking began again.

----

Rowan turned up at the village late one crisp morning with the look of a defeated man that was not entirely unhappy to be so. Sonja had found him while out on a walk and led him back to Joslyn's house, where he was received with a great amount of joy.

"The envoy is all together again! This simply must be celebrated," Joslyn declared. Even Jacob, who was usually stony-faced, brightened when the doctor returned.

"Are we going to make bread then?" Ceallach asked.

"Oh! We could, but that's too much work. Let's let someone else do everything for a change. We can walk to the next town over and go to the tavern. I'm sure they'll break out a great feast for a celestial envoy."

Ark put a hand to his chin in thought. "But we have no business there...are you sure?"

"If you're in the region, they'd be glad to," Joslyn said with utmost confidence. "Or they should be, at least."

"I have the impression we're being used as a convenient excuse," said the angel under his breath.

Rowan chuckled weakly. "That doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves."

Sonja drew up and crossed her arms. "I think it's time we celebrate the news about Aisling as well. It's a good opportunity."

"Not really," Ceallach muttered.

Sonja gave him a stern but not unfriendly glare. "If you keep moping around the thought of her, you won't even look forward to when she gets better. You need to remember to be happy thinking about her."

Ceallach went quiet.

The pub was a warm, crowded place filled with the voices of men and women unwinding. There was a roast served, followed by a colorful vegetable soup, and a heavy pudding for dessert. Throughout the meal their mugs were kept full with a honey-colored drink.

"What is this?" Ceallach asked. The smell of it tickled his nose.

"Mead! We've got stronger if you'd like some," said the waitress.

He had a mouthful of it and felt it on his tongue. It was sweet with a tiny hint of bitterness that was odd. When he swallowed, it touched fire in his throat and he coughed.

Rowan laughed at this. "Have you never had alcohol before?"

"No," Ceallach admitted. He had a bigger gulp. The fire streamed down into his belly. It reminded him of the feeling of power he had when he was blessed by the wyrm in the pit. When he realized that, he wanted more. "But give me the strongest you've got!"

"That's the spirit!" Sonja lifted her mug. "Hey! Get me some of the same!"

----

The next morning Ceallach woke, sat up, and immediately felt an aching in his skull, enough for him to mutter some curses and throw himself out bed. He felt something a little bit like nausea, and the first thing he thought might help was to be outside in the sunshine. He looked across the hall to the other's rooms, all of which had their doors open. Rowan seemed normal enough, though he had covered his face with his pillow to block the light touching from the window upon his head. Claire was face-down on her mattress in a completely crooked way, as if she had just flopped there and had not bothered to adjust herself. Curled up next to her in a ball was Sonja. It looked like she had been scratching at her ears and around her mouth, for whatever reason - they were red and a little swollen. Ark had not had any drinks the night before, and was resting peacefully on his back as usual under a copious amount of sheets.

Ceallach gently pushed the angel so he was on his side, not flattening his wings, and took off a few of the blankets that seemed excessive. Then he crossed the hall, picked up a blanket that had fallen or been pushed off, and wrapped it around the two girls. After that he made his way outside.

Being in the dull, overcast sunlight did help his nausea, but his head still pounded. He blinked against the light for a few moments, then felt his stomach plummet. He spent the next few moments heaving into a pile of snow.

"That's not how I want to remember  what I ate last night," he said to himself after he'd finished being sick.

He found a spot on the ground that was dry and clean and fell back on it, squinting at the sky. For a long moment he remained that way, waiting for the pain in his head to trickle away. He began to feel a sensation in his mind separate from the cloudy ache. The sensation solidified into a familiar, rumbling voice.

Some excessive celebrating on your part, eh?

Ceallach did not have the will or energy to formulate a proper response, so he grunted. He imagined a great wyrm settling around him, and the smug grin on its snout was almost tangible.

So, what now, boy?

This question made him open his eyes and push himself up. He pondered this fruitlessly for a minute or so before saying, "No idea. I'll follow Ark."

Let the celestial give you purpose? Disappointing. Would you rather not gather power?

Ceallach sat up, blinking blearily. "What do you mean?"

I have another gift for you, youngling, if you're willing to work for it. You must be strong if you want to protect the girl when she wakes.

Ceallach stared into the sky, watching grey clouds streak across the expanse. "I have to be strong in order to break the curse...whatever it needs."

Yes, good! Though perhaps we should wait until your strength returns. The stomach of a wyrm is not invincible, and is one of its weak points, after all.

"Ugh, please don't remind me of that."

We will talk later, youngling. Await my further instruction!

The wyrm god's presence faded away from Ceallach's mind. He watched the sky for a moment longer, then made his way back inside. The other members of the envoy were still asleep, and some of them were snoring, even. He chuckled softly, then had a seat on his bed, sighing. The tail-knife appeared in his hands, and he turned it over and over in his hands.

When he felt a little better, he decided, he would go outside and practice with it.