Indenuel slept in again. If he didn’t know for sure his mother was still spending a year sleeping with the good angels, he would have heard her chastising him. He had one of the most honored guests in his home, and he slept in. He threw on his clothes before stumbling out of his room. The front door was open, and he heard the children playing in the yard.

“My apologies, Martin,” Indenuel said with a short bow. “I have neglected my duties as host.”

Martin turned, giving him a surprised look. “My dear boy, a couple days ago you were in such a deep sleep after saving your village, only the Savior himself could have woken you up. If your body still needs to recover, let it recover.”

“But breakfast-”

“Is something many people are surprised to learn I’m quite capable of making myself,” Martin said as he stood and offered a bowl to Indenuel. “Oatmeal?”

Indenuel took it, still feeling the sharp chastisement despite the truth of Martin’s words. “Yes, please.”

Indenuel ate his oatmeal much slower as he watched the children playing. “The other children aren’t playing with them today?” Martin asked.

Indenuel frowned. “Oh. Did they come and play with them?”

“While you were recovering it seemed like all the children in the village were playing with them.” Indenuel stared at Martin, trying to imagine the strange scene he was describing. Martin frowned. “It must have been a rare occurrence.”

“It must have been because of the novelty of you being here.” Indenuel turned again to the open door as the twins played in the yard. Matteo noticed Indenuel and gave a wave. Indenuel waved back before eating another spoonful of oatmeal. “Will my village make it through the winter? Did you bring enough supplies?” Indenuel stirred his oatmeal around to hide the guilt in his face. If he hadn’t caused the early winter, if the remaining crops hadn’t frozen a month ago.

Then no one would have figured out who I am.

“I’m certain I did. However, I’ve arranged with Andres and Lola to come visit Santollia City every so often for you to see the children. Should the village need any additional supplies, I’m certain the city will give it. These small villages over the mountains are some of the biggest producers of crops for the war, after all. We would love to show our gratitude.”

Indenuel took another bite of oatmeal, watching Isla and Emilia talking quickly amongst themselves about what game they were playing as Matteo drew a picture in the dirt with a stick. Indenuel placed the spoon back in his bowl. “Sir, what can I say to convince you to let me bring the children with us?” He didn’t look at Martin. He simply watched the children, memorizing how they were in this moment.

Martin set a chair down next to Indenuel. “I’m sorry, Indenuel. It is law. You are not their legal guardian. Andres and Lola are. We cannot transfer orphans through the towns and cities. They must stay a ward of Mountain Pass, in the care of the village’s healer. Children are precious and must be taken care of by a married couple,” Martin said.

“My mother wasn’t married.”

“Your mother was a special circumstance that your village council agreed could handle the situation.”

“I’m the Warrior,” Indenuel said, even though he was struggling to believe that. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Yes. It means you need to focus all your efforts on training for the great battle. You will be training long and hard.” Martin gave a sigh, not one like Indenuel had heard from the villagers; one that showed how annoyed they were at Indenuel. Instead it was one of compassion. “You must understand, Indenuel, the war is brutal. The most Mountain Pass has felt of it is from the crops we need, but it is bad. The Kiamese people are strong. The war has a bleak outcome, and if we don’t get you trained in time, the children, these children here, will suffer serious consequences. It is better they stay in a place mostly untouched from the war.”

Indenuel placed his empty bowl on the ground, then rubbed his face, his heart hurting. He hadn’t thought about that. It wasn’t just Santollia he was freeing, but keeping Matteo, Isla, and Emilia safe. The protective feeling he had for them rose up. Life was hard here, but they weren’t in constant fear of Kiam taking over their village. The mountains were a natural protection of that, at least. But that would change if Kiam took control of the main road, if they took control of Santollia City itself. If Kiam won.

“Maybe… maybe after the war?” Indenuel asked, his voice sounding lame. “After we beat the Kiamese army, could they come live with me?”

Martin patted Indenuel on the shoulder. “If you help us win this war, Indenuel, I will personally make sure the children are given to you, regardless of what the law says.”

Indenuel watched the girls playing one of their pretend games. How long would it take him to win a war? A year? Two? Ten? This war had already lasted twenty-five years, longer than he had been alive. Sure, he was supposed to end it, but Indenuel didn’t know how to fight. He knew how to hide.

This training he would do would probably make things hard. It had already been difficult taking care of the children when his mother passed. Being a single father, in essence, was not easy, even if the blizzard had been his fault. To feed them, clothe them, make sure they stayed safe, it had taxed him. And now with the idea of taking care of the children on top of training as the Warrior, it did seem overwhelming. He would win the war first, then they could come to him.

But to leave them with Andres and Lola? That was the issue he simply couldn’t get over. Martin seemed to think they would be fine, but Indenuel hesitated.

“Andres and Lola will rise up to the occasion, Indenuel, but only if you let them,” Martin said as though reading his thoughts.

Indenuel gave a slow, careful nod. “Alright.”

Martin smiled. “I am anxious to return home, Indenuel. Over the past year, I have traveled throughout the countries of Santollia and Oramin to help recruit for the war efforts. I was on my way home when I heard about your situation.”

Indenuel glanced at Martin, beginning to understand. “You want to leave? Soon?”

Martin nodded. “Tomorrow at dawn. It is a month’s journey to Santollia City. Not only am I anxious to see my family, but the High Elders are anxious to meet you.”

Indenuel blinked back tears. One more day with the children. “I understand.”

Matteo turned, tears in his eyes. Quiet, observant, ever watchful Matteo overheard everything. He dropped the stick and walked inside, wrapping his arms around Indenuel, crying quietly on his shoulder.

***

They spent the first half of the day moving the mattresses into Andres and Lola’s home. They would sleep there that night. Indenuel spent the rest of the day playing with them. He listened to the girls’ stories, complimented Matteo on his drawings, played in the creek even though it was freezing, and chased the girls until his muscles were sore. Matteo was always next to Indenuel, saying nothing, simply being there, and Indenuel let him be.

Indenuel sat at the table of Andres and Lola’s house for dinner. Indenuel was only there because this was his last day with the children. He wanted to be a part of it as long as possible. Lola set down a pot of beans and rice, giving Martin all the smiles and warmth while pointedly ignoring Indenuel. She dished Martin up, who passed it over to Indenuel. Indenuel took the food, curious. It was custom for the honored guest to get the first serving of food.

Lola had a fire in her eyes she was trying desperately to put out as she dished another plate for Martin. Then Andres and herself. She plopped three helpings onto plates and pushed them toward the children.

“High Elder Martin, if you would do us the honor of saying the evening meal prayer,” Andres said, giving Martin a short bow.

“Oh, indeed it would be an honor, but custom dictates the person with the highest authority at the table says the evening meal prayer,” Martin said, a playful glimmer entering his eyes as he looked at Indenuel.

It took way too long for Andres and Lola to look at Indenuel, and they didn’t have a playful look in their eyes. Indenuel shrank from their gaze.

“I…” Indenuel focused his attention on Martin to keep himself from looking at Lola and Andres. “I outrank a…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Yes, Indenuel. An individual prophesied to appear at our time of need absolutely outranks just another High Elder,” Martin said. “You better get used to saying evening meal prayers.”

Indenuel chanced another look at Andres and Lola who were looking positively fuming. It had always been strange to Indenuel that these two were only eight or nine years older than Lucia. They always had such hatred. Indenuel stared at his untouched plate.

“The other High Elders haven’t confirmed that Indenuel is the Warrior,” Andres said quietly with an underlining tone of anger. “Surely there is no reason to treat him as such until they say he is.”

“They will, Andres.” Martin clasped his hands together, closing his eyes. “They will.”

Indenuel turned and looked at the children. Matteo took Isla’s hand, Isla took Emilia’s hand, and both Matteo and Emilia were stretching their hands toward him. They had already accepted it as truth. Indenuel took their hands, giving them a squeeze before he cleared his throat. “We give thanks to God for this food. May it give us strength to prepare for the Savior’s coming, and may we always be in service of Thee.”

“God be with us,” Martin and the children said.

“God be with us,” Lola and Andres said far more controlled. Indenuel waited for Martin to eat out of habit, but completely forgot that he was the one that said the prayer. If he said the prayer, he had to be the first to eat. Andres’ glare was as sharp as daggers. If Martin hadn’t been here, Andres would have told Indenuel exactly what he thought.

Indenuel quickly picked up the fork and took a bite so everyone would stop looking at him. He thought of what Martin said that morning, about Andres and Lola rising to the occasion if he let them.

“Dinner is delicious, Lola,” Indenuel said, muscling down his pride. “Thank you.”

Lola gave a small smile that seemed almost genuine. “You are welcome, Indenuel.” Andres said nothing.

The rest of the dinner, Andres and Lola only talked to Martin, and Indenuel only talked to the children. It made it easier.

They stayed around Andres and Lola’s home until it was too dark to see. Martin had gone in other parts of the village to discuss religion and do some healings.

When Lola came outside with an impatient air, Indenuel ignored her as long as possible as he ran with the children, trying to catch some bugs.

Once Lola made her intentions clearer, the girls ran to give Indenuel a hug.

“I will see you soon,” Indenuel said, trying to convince himself not to cry. “Now, go have an adventure.” The girls left, giggling with excitement to sleep in a new place. Matteo stayed closer to Indenuel. Indenuel waited for Matteo to go into the house, but he stayed.

Indenuel patted Matteo’s shoulder. “You’ll be alright.”

Matteo’s voice trembled. “But what if I’m not?”

Indenuel dropped to one knee so Matteo was slightly taller than him. “Then tell me. I am a tree talker,”

“But I’m not,” Matteo said.

“You can tell Hugo. I’ll talk to him in the morning before we leave,” Indenuel said. Matteo nodded, but it was a stiff nod. “I will see you in a couple months. And I will send word every day where I am and what I’ve been doing. We will be able to keep in contact. I want to know when your gift manifests.”

Matteo was blinking back tears. “What if I’m too broken to get a gift?”

Indenuel swallowed a lump in his throat before smiling. “Matteo, what kind of talk is that? Of course you’ll get a gift.”

“No one has gone this long without something manifesting, no matter how weak. What if I’m just-” Matteo didn’t finish.

Indenuel placed his arms on the boy’s shoulders. “Matteo, these gifts are from God. What has Ami Lucia always told us?”

Matteo had tears running down his cheeks. “That God has his own timing for things.”

“You will get your gift. Be patient. It will come. And most important of all, you are not broken,” Indenuel said.

Matteo nodded before hugging Indenuel again. “I will miss you.”

“And I will see you in a couple months. You are the big brother now. Keep an eye on your sisters for me.”

Indenuel did not want to let go, but Matteo would never let go, and someone had to make the tough decision. Matteo rubbed his eyes dry as Indenuel dropped his arms. Matteo’s footsteps fell through the drying mud of the town as he headed to Andres and Lola’s house. Indenuel stayed until the door closed. He turned and headed toward his own home, the tears coming far more quickly than he expected. The village was peaceful and dark. No one was on the road. He allowed himself to cry, the moon and the four stars above were the only witnesses.