Aleya and I sat in the inn, eating a dinner that the owners had made. I hadn’t had to pay anything for it, since in Drixstead, if you worked, you were worth the cost. I had also learned that instead of a money system, citizens in the stronghold traded goods and worked for things they needed.

“Is Lewis treating you well?” Aleya asked, scraping her cup along the top of the table. Swallowing the food I had shoved into my mouth, I answered.

“He is.” Lewis was blunt with his words, but he had never been overly harsh. Given, it was just the first day I had worked with him, so that might change with time.

“That’s good! He usually scares off all the apprentices that want to learn from him.” I frowned. There did seem to be a possibility of that happening, but Lewis hadn’t seemed that bad. Maybe I had yet to be exposed to the worst of it. “Anyways, it is good that you’re helping him. Lewis usually takes forever to get anything done if there’s not someone urging him along.”

“You said he’s your uncle?” I asked.

“Yep, he’s my dad’s brother. I’ve known him since, well, forever.” I nodded my head, and we finished eating in comfortable silence. Aleya’s body perked up as she finished, and she exclaimed, “Oh! I almost forgot. The patriarch did want to see you again, and he told me to let you know. He may come around to visit you himself in the next few days.”

“Did he say why?” I had been expecting another talk with Davion, but I wasn’t sure what it would be about.

Aleya hummed. “No, he didn’t say why. I don’t think it’s anything too serious, though.” Standing, she took her empty dishware as she left, and I followed, doing the same. The plates clattered as they dropped into a basin of sorts. “I’m sure it will be fine. Get some rest, and I may see you tomorrow if work doesn’t get too busy.” Waving my hand in return, she exited the inn, and I retreated upstairs to my temporary room.

***

Lewis directed my hands, critiquing any odd moves I made.

“Don’t bend the blade like that—keep it steady and straight,” he controlled, nudging my hand to switch the direction of the saw. “The easiest part should be keeping it straight,” he muttered. Backing off, he cracked his knuckles loudly.

Today as well I was just cutting logs into blocks of timber, forming the frames where projects would get their shapes. The piece of wood I was working on now was to be cut into three long and skinny rectangles. It was harder than initially shaping the block, and I could feel impatience emanating from Lewis. Just this morning, he had told me many times that I was too slow.

I tried to imagine a line through the wood, hoping I could poach Lewis’s skill of [Map Line]. It would make this much easier for me, and I had no doubt I could use it for other purposes. A line you could instinctively follow could be priceless for a blind man like myself.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Lewis said as I finished cutting off one slab of wood. Taking the saw from my hands, he gripped my shoulders and directed me into a chair. Wincing, I shrugged them once he released me. His casual touches had started to grind at me, and I wished he wouldn’t move me so. He could have just told me to sit.

Clattering around, Lewis seemed to grab a few things before returning to me. A smaller knife was placed into my hand, and a piece of wood was put into the other.

“I’ve made some indents on that block of wood where I want it to be cut. It's a smaller piece, and the dimensions need to be exact. Use the carving knife to shave off those guidelines.” Lewis guided, scratching his head. “It should be easier than just the big pieces.”

Turning the block in my hands, I felt along its sides, my thumb running over notches that created a line, and it curved through the wood. With no idea what it would be used for, its shape felt odd. The carving knife was gripped in my hand, my thumb bracing against its handle as I pressed the blade to the wood. Going slow in case Lewis deemed it necessary to stop, I began to shave off pieces of wood.

He didn’t interrupt, and after a couple of tense minutes where he watched me, he turned away to do his own work. After that, only the sounds of tools against wood filled the room. I quickly got the hang of shaping blocks, thanks to Lewis’s indents that guided me, and I completed a few.

The silence was broken on my fourth piece of wood, and my ears pricked as I heard the front door open. Lewis turned as well as the sound of footsteps gradually got louder.

“Anybody home?” Patriarch Davion’s voice rang out, and I felt Lewis automatically tense. Muttering, he approached the door.

“No, no one is home, you geezer. Now you can leave.”

“Don’t be so harsh, Lewis. I only just got here,” Davion said, entering the room. “Besides, you’re not the one I am here to see. Ah, Cain! Good to see you again.” I turned towards him, nodding my head in greeting. A chair was dragged across the floor and placed across from me. Davion took a seat, and the chair creaked as he leaned forward.

“How are things? It seems Lewis is already working you hard,” he asked, and I heard Lewis grunt in annoyance, the worktable shaking as he slammed down a brick of wood.

“Things are well.” I had never been very good at niceties, and I didn’t know what else to say. My carving knife idly sliced at the wood in my hands.

“Good, good. I wanted to ask you more about your… friends, and thought you might have some questions of your own.” I did have some swirling around in my head, but I could think of nothing of much importance. “I’ll let you ask first,” Davion kindly offered.

“Will I never be able to return to my planet?” It seemed a sure thing, but I wanted to make sure. Davion sighed, leaning back.

“I believe it is not possible. Your world has most likely already been destroyed by God. I see no way for that to change.” I nodded my head at his answer. That conclusion had already come to my mind, so it no longer impacted me as much. I still didn’t fully trust Davion’s words, but he seemed to be the best source of information I had come across.

Not many questions plagued me. The intricate system of this world had already been explained enough to me by Ilya, and I had accepted my circumstances of being in a foreign world.

“Are there other gods that exist?” I asked curiously.

“I am sure there are,” Davion stiffly said. “However, we worship only Fevdohr here.” Lewis scoffed in the corner, but he ignored it. “Anything else?” When I shook my head, he proceeded with his own questions.

“Now, are they present right now?” I glanced over to the side, and the priest met my eyeless gaze. He had appeared when the patriarch had walked into the room, and I had felt a sense of curiosity from him. Now, the priest felt tense, as if he were weary of the other man.

Turning my head back to Davion, I responded. “One is here. Weren’t you able to sense them before?”

“I can’t now, for whatever reason. You may have subconsciously learned to hide their presence once I had pointed it out.” My brow furrowed. That could be a possibility, and I looked to the priest. He may have the answers, since he was also a result of my subliminal thoughts. The priest nodded his head slowly, as if he was almost positive of the answer.

Both Davion and I were startled as Lewis spoke, interrupting our conversation. “What the hell are you two talking about?” Davion laughed at his outburst, which only made Lewis even more agitated.

“Our new friend here has an interesting… trait. A ‘disorder of the mind’, he called it. It fascinates me, so I only wanted to discuss it with him,” Davion aptly explained. “Now, may we continue, Lewis?” Lewis grudgingly agreed, going back to his work.

“Why do you think they exist?” Davion turned back to me, asking. I didn’t quite understand what he meant by that, so I only repeated his words.

“Just what you said. They are the result of a disorder of my mind,” I responded.

“You believe that? You don’t believe they may come from another source?” He quickly asked. The priest had moved to my side, and his hand that rested on my shoulder clenched. My hand that was holding the knife tensed as a result, and I silently questioned the priest.

Responding, I told him, “I don’t. A body part can be disabled, so why not the brain, which is another part of the body? Our world was highly advanced in medical science, but I won’t pretend to understand what they discovered. I only know that my symptoms are related to the brain.”

“You’re sure?” he insisted. “You don’t think it is the result of, say, an entity of some kind?” I sighed, understanding what he was getting at now.

“No, I don’t believe I am being possessed or punished by some god.” My belief in that area was almost completely null.

Davion scratched his chin, thinking it over. “So, no evil god is causing this?” I shook my head, slightly tired of his persistence. Why must a god be the source of “evil”? Men alone are quite capable of every wicked thought. They are the ones who tried to define evil in the first place.

“I would like to understand this more, and experiment to make sure your beliefs are true. Would you want that? I believe Fevdohr holds the answers,” Davion told me earnestly. I could not understand why he would care so much. My hallucinations were a part of me, and I knew that to be true. A religious man like Davion might say that belief is only the work of a devil, to keep you complacent, but that only sounded like devoted speculation.

The priest's cold hand slid through my skin, his voice whispering in my ear. “This man’s God is not our god. We do not belong to him, and we have no need for his foolish wish for answers.” The priest's words were only my opinion voiced aloud for me alone to hear. And I agreed, annoyed at Davion’s incessant scrutiny.

“I don’t want that. I believe I have all the answers I need,” I told Davion.

He sighed, a disappointed thing. “I understand. However, no man truly has the answers. That is the job of our God, and I hope you learn to accept that.” With those closing words, he stood. Turning to Lewis, he dismissed me.

“I do have a job for you, Lewis. That’s part of the reason I came here.” Papers fluttered as Davion pulled them out of his robe, and he handed them over. “All the details are enclosed in there. I hope you can finish it before the start of winter, when we hold the Festival of Stars.”

Lewis yanked the papers away from Davion, flipping through them. “What makes you think I’ll do it in the first place?”

“Don’t be stubborn. You’ll be duly compensated for the job, as always.” Lewis grew silent, considering.

“Fine. But no nagging. I’ll get it done when I get it done.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of rushing you. So long as it is ready in time, Fevdohr will be pleased.” Davion turned, not waiting for an answer. His robe dragged across the ground, the sound accompanying his heavy footsteps. The front door slammed, and my hand that had tensed on the carving knife relaxed.

The priest eyed the weapon, and I knew he had been thinking the same thing as me. We were one and the same, after all.