Itxaro and her mother awoke in the early morning to Eneko’s wailing. Silence from a child was unsettling but the sound of Eneko’s cry sent a shock of cold terror through her heart. She rose from bed in one swift motion, violently rising upright before rushing to check on him.

“Do you know what is wrong with it?” Lady Itxaro asked, sitting in bed.

His crying was worse than when he might have heard a loud noise or been unsettled. There was an urgency to it all.

“No,” Itxaro answered after checking his garments. She had cleaned him a few hours before, after midnight. “It is not like him to cry without reason, though. You know this.”

“I know,” her mother confirmed. “Maybe he is hungry. Pass him to me and prepare a quick meal from him.”

Itxaro did as was suggested and went to the back room. With her finally away from him, she could hear something else. The forest was uneasy.

Something terrible was coming. In predicting this, Itxaro was even greater than her grandmother. The plants knew when a Great One was beginning to manifest.

Itxaro brought the food but Eneko refused as he cried ceaselessly with his eyes closed. Could he hear the forest as well?

She pinched his cheek until it hurt. He opened his eyes and his endless wailing turned to stuttered sobs as he stared at her who caused him pain. She then brushed his nose with her finger then traced a circle in the air over his face.

"Concentrate on me," she whispered. "Just think about something and they will go away." Itxaro rubbed his reddened cheek. “Sorry about that.” She hummed loudly so she was sure that he heard her tune.

His crying slowly sputtered to a halt but he did not appear at ease. Itxaro walked to the door of the elder’s room and rapped her knuckles against it.

“It will be tonight,” Itxaro declared.

After a moment, the door opened and the elder stepped out.

“We should thank our guest for staying for its arrival,” Elder Itxaro noted.

“You said something along the lines of it is your duty to pass knowledge on, right?” Itxaro asked as they made their way to the main room.

“Indeed, it is my duty, dear.”

“Why then are we doing this? Why are we throwing away lives that could learn from us?” Itxaro asked.

“We can’t pass away happily without making sure all that has value is secured,” her grandmother answered. “Losing an elder is losing a treasure.”

“Why not write everything down?” Itxaro suggested.

The elder dismissed the idea with a gentle smile. “You think we have enough room to store a thousand years worth of knowledge? Also, as you likely have seen from our guest who keeps company with a monster, knowledge is not the same as wisdom. We should not live forever but it is our duty to guide the village for as long as we can. Children can not survive on their own.”

That made sense. If there was only an adult and a baby left in the world and one had to die, Itxaro would kill the baby if it was too young. The baby would starve without the adult. But was that the right way to look at things? She knew whatever resulted in the least deaths was the correct choice but what was the weight of each life?

“You look tired, dear,” the elder observed. “You have to had so much recently. No wonder you have such concerns. Sleep for the day.” She pointed to Eneko. “I will look after it. We need you to have all your strength for tonight.”

"He will need to be distracted until he goes to sleep," Itxaro advised. “I think he can hear the forest better than the others.”

"We handled that much before with you and others," the elder reassured as she took the child. “Unfortunately, we did know what was causing you such trouble until you were old enough to tell us.”

*****

Itxaro slept until late afternoon and stayed with her family until evening as they planned. Her mother prepared a special meal for the guests while the elder snuck away to make special preparations for the ritual site.

Witnesses said that the two outsiders wandered about as usual. Her mother already visited with them and informed them they would be receiving a special dinner to celebrate their departure as was customary in many parts of the world.

The food was not what was important but rather the wine. The aberration could likely taste poison from how Desdomena several times tested his food. The alcohol would conceal the flavor and scent and the choice of toxins was not even harmful. It was a sleeping drug, it would not even make the one that ingested it noticeably sleepy but once they lulled to sleep, they would be nonreactive to touch, scent, or sound as if in a coma until they woke up naturally.

The greatest concern was Desdomena. The Elder insisted to regard the aberration’s connection with the man to be parasite and husk. If the aberration went into him while he slept, she would be deprived of the sane senses, dwelling in his dreams, ignorant of the outside world. Not necessarily trapped but at least unaware, which was why special accommodations needed to be made at the final site.

All would be set. Itxaro simply had to deliver the meal. She set out for the chamber as the sun began to set, leaving Eneko behind, of course.

Itxaro knocked on the door. An instant later she started as something tapped her shoulder for every knock she made.

“What, did I surprise you?” Desdomena’s voice came from behind her. “You usually notice me. I just wanted to show you that I tried on your gift.”

Itxaro turned around and indeed Desdomena was wearing the necklace and the still healthy seeds were reacting but she could hardly hear them over all the other noise the forest was making. The green of the flowers’ stems were losing their color but they were not yet brown while the pink petals had darkened as they drooped. Along with that, her hair was tied into a ponytail with her black ribbon.

Desdomena spun herself around. “How do I look?”

How was Itxaro supposed to say that the aberration looked better with dying flowers than live ones? Itxaro had forgotten about the necklace. The drained green clashed less with her eyes and the wilted flowers blended with red and fit with her black ribbon.

“You look good,” Itxaro replied. “We discussed this before I think you should try new things more. They might match with you.”

Desdomena brought a finger to the edge of her lip and pulled it down into a thoughtful expression. “Should I?” she considered. “I did put on little things when I was mimicking others. I even dressed up in a few interesting outfits in my years alone with Alvah. Good thing I am not human. I never had to worry about painting or powdering myself up.”

They were alone. This seemed the best time to say it while Alvah was away.

Itxaro scratched at her cheek nervously, recalling how she burnt half Desdomena’s face away. “I am sorry I splashed you when you were covered in powder,” she apologized.

Desdomena cupped her hands over her face. “Do I look injured to you?”

Her hands parted like a window or door to reveal half her face was was that of a leonine skull. Itxaro did not even react, half expecting such a display. Desdomena closed her hands back and pulled them away to unmask her normal complexion.

“But no,” Desdomena reassured. “You had no lasting effect on me so no need to apologize for that. Do you apologize to a pond for causing ripples?

Itxaro bowed her head. “Then thank you for saving Alvah. I imagine his injuries would have been more permanent.”

Desdomena shrugged. “You are thanking me for that? It had nothing to do with you. I would have done that no matter what.”

“It does not matter,” Itxaro softly countered. “There are few enough humans in this world. Thank you for saving one of the last humans.”

“I can not tell if we are supposed to be opposed or alike,” Desdomena laughed her strange "khe-khe" laugh. “I suppose we are opposed as I am the savior of the last human while you are the one that endangers him.”

“It was an accident.”

“Oh really?” Desdomena stretched herself. “I would not think this is an accident.”

Itxaro paused as she realized there might have been a miscommunication. They were at least speaking in different tenses now. Itxaro’s heart skipped a beat as she considered that Desdomena not only still considered her a threat but saw purpose in her actions. At least in regards to their meeting, it was all a fortunate accident.

Itxaro inhaled.

“Thinking back to that evening, you transformed a lot more radically. You took on beastial traits when Alvah is not around or not in his right mind.” Itxaro tried to divert the subject. “Even on the day I… tricked you. You stayed yourself, yet you turned into a harp.”

“It was a lyre, actually.”

“Well, a lyre is not scary. I would say you were pretty as an instrument. But I thought you would have shown me claws back when we were having our… spirited disagreement.”

“I try not to be what I am when he sees me.”

“You are in his head. Surely, he knows you for what you are.”

Desdomena nodded. “He does so I try not to remind him.”

Itxaro glanced at the chamber behind herself. “What is he to you?”

“Proof “I” exist,” Desdomena answered enthusiastically before turning somber. “If he died, I might cease to be “me” as I currently am or at least I would lose my reason to be “me.””

“What do you mean by that?”

“People can not change each other. They can only change themselves. If Alvah ever recounts the story of what I truly did, he will tell you how I repaired him. I did no such thing. I just gave him what was already his. Like I said, you humans have kinship with my kind, I only happen to be more literal with what I choose to be.”

Itxaro wanted to believe there was nothing beneath the surface, that the aberration was a hollow illusion. That way, she would not have to add Desdomena to the count. However, she saw how those interacted. There was something there.

Itxaro could not see the good Alvah claimed the aberration was capable of. Eneko seemed to like her but Itxaro knew babies were not the best judges of character. But even if she was not a saint, Desdomena was alive. If anything, if Desdomena had truly not killed anyone in years, by Itxaro’s own definition, the aberration was better than her.

“What are you currently?” Itxaro asked.

Desdomena traced the scar over her eye. “One can be defined by the world or define oneself, the same one decides whether a scar can be defining or mere decoration. I decided to define myself as the world.”

“And you need Alvah for that?”

“Hmmmph.” The aberration smiled to that. “A world without occupants is boring.”

“But a world that needs occupants to remain a world is a fake one,” Itxaro observed.

Desdomena’s smile seemed sharp as a blade. “What is better an illusion that lasts or a truth that crumbles away?”

“The truth,” Itxaro answered quickly before taking a moment to put words together. “A lie can be altered but the truth-” she thought back to Desdomena’s transformations “-does not change.”

Desdomena laughed. “You are either the worst champion of truth or the worst of liars. You who offered poison rather than remedy.”

Itxaro frowned. “You are right.”

Desdomena leaned past Itxaro and opened the door. The Desdomena stepped beside the young woman so the aberration could hold the door and welcome her in with a graceful gesture as if to sweep the young woman in. “But which one am I right about?”

“Good to see you this evening,” Alvah greeted her with a wave of his left hand from his place on the floor.

She had not set foot in that room since she last cleaned it. In a corner was a loom. He probably made it.

Itxaro’s eyes focused on Alvah and at first she was not sure what she saw. Almost camouflaged against his cast rested his bandaged right hand.

“What happened?” Itxaro pointed at the wrapped appendage before shooting a look at Desdomena.

“You think I did that?” Desdomena slapped at the air, swatting down at the suspicions. “Sorry to disappoint you but I had nothing to do with it.”

Alvah displayed his hand. It was heavily wrapped so that he could not even move his fingers. “I cut myself while carving a glyph,” he explained.

Itxaro stepped forward. “Let me see it.”

“I am afraid I already have it sufficiently wrapped for the day.” He lowered his hand. “Maybe I will show it to you tomorrow.”

Itxaro bit her lip. He would not get that opportunity. She felt a weight in her chest grow heavy.

She gave them their food and even poured them their wine to make sure he drank at least a little. Desdomena made no attempts to examine the meal. The entire time Itxaro wanted to leave and took the first opportunity she could. She thought the other day they might have suspected her yet they went right the trap.

*****

Itxaro counted the hours with Eneko as midnight approached. “Do not fear,” she told him. “I will find a way for you to live. Alvah will take your place for this month and I will talk to grandmother about securing you a place.”

It slowly dawned on her. To save him would she have to offer her later siblings? Was that fair to them? If she wanted to save them as well, she would have to offer the other half in their place. Was her blood that much more valuable? Surely the other three youngsters like her would be able to call anyone they sacrificed family.

Eventually, the elder returned. After some discussion of the plan, Itxaro turned their conversation to a new subject.

"If the outsider is accepted and a new child is born before the next ritual.” Itxaro looked to the baby in her arms. “Can this one be spared?"

"I suppose,” the elder considered hesitantly. “Why the special treatment for that one?"

Itxaro struggled to answer. Indeed, he was abnormal but that meant little. What made him any different from the other brothers and sisters she should have saved?

"Fate, I suppose. That he would be born early on a month when we were lacking an offering yet an outsider came to take his place. Is that not worth considering?"

“We can discuss this when a new child is born as you assumed,” the Elder decided. “For the rest of the night, just leave him with your mother.”

Now, it was time to see if their gambit succeeded. They had an hour until midnight. There no need for stealth. If the concoction did not work as they hoped, they had a dangerous aberration to contend with.

Still, Itxaro knocked before entering the chamber in case the man had yet to slumber. She opened the door and shone the light of a candle inside. She checked for any signs of Desdomena.

“I apologize for waking you,” she said as a formality in case they stirred.

Atop the loom now sat the necklace of flowers Itxaro made. Around Alvah wrist was the black ribbon as he laid on his back.

She walked over to him and examined the ribbon. She crouched and held her breath as she reached for his wrist. Her heart raced as she stretched closer.

With a sigh of relief, her fingers brushed against his skin. The familiar warmth of another human reassured her that he was indeed a mortal.

The aberration did not spring out of thin air. Itxaro truly was safe from Desdomena’s attention. Surely, Desdomena would not have allowed that much.

Itxaro searched him. She took his knife and tools along with his satchel. She looked within the satchel to find one glyphstone with the glowing image of a red sun carved upon it. She then dragged him out, leaving his walking stick and other such objects behind.

The two men of the village met her outside the chamber and took him. One grabbed his shoulders while the other his feet. The elder was asked also there, supervising the proceedings.

The elder poked at Alvah. “It is hard to believe this man was called a god.”

Itxaro stared at her grandmother in shock. “How did you know?”

“Dear, you asked me who Girin was rather than the man himself,” she explained. “You said they mentioned him, it would have been simple to ask for more details. You should have told me they did not know you heard that name.”

Itxaro’s heart sank. “What else do you know?” She had betrayed everyone, both family and friend.

“Are there other secrets you failed to tell me yourself?”

“Yes.”

The elder sighed. “It is alright, dear. We will discuss everything later when this is settled and such trivialities no longer matter. Go on. I will join you shortly. Let me first make sure I have everything.”

Itxaro led the two men to a clearing to the east. There was a lone hill that served as a natural temple. The trees provided a solid wall that concealed it from sight while also leaving the practitioners surrounded in isolation as if on an island. Or it had been, the eastern side had been damaged where the tops of the trees were clipped off and the trees just beyond grew less densely as they grew accustomed to the monthly visits of something vast and large. The open canopy allowed the light of the full moon illuminate all near the center.

On top of the hill was a circle of dogwood, winter-fire. The shrub lost its leaves and turned red for the winter, hence its name. It, like the shafts used for her arrows, were once sacred to her people.

The circle was a new addition with Desdomena in mind. The elder had already cast the spell. Once Alvah was inside the circle, everyone would be safe.

The men placed Alvah in the center of the circle. The diameter was just enough to afford a few inches of inaccuracy in his placement. They then tied a rope to his ankle. With their tasks complete, Itxaro instructed the men to return home.

Under ordinary circumstances, Itxaro performed this ceremony alone. When she first began when she was five, the elder supervised her but by the time she was eight, she could do it on her own. However, the elder was to accompany her that night, she just had to wait.