A large wave of force almost knocked Emmet to the ground as it struck the side of his head. The crashing sound nearly deafened him, an intense ringing in his ears making it hard to hear anything around him. He curled up in the grass, and braced for the rest to come. He waited for claws to rake at his skin or massive teeth to dig into his neck to finish him off, but none of this came. Cautiously, he looked up. There was nothing above him but the starry night sky; no bear, nothing. Emmet sat up, turning to face where the bear was charging at him just moments ago. He saw the creature, he saw it much worse for wear. The bear was slumped over, dead or dying if it hadn’t passed already. Smoke smoldered from it’s remains, and Emmet could just make out the raw flesh as the smell of burning fur started to make itself known to him. In his confusion, something else managed to run by without him noticing. A blur of red running straight for Hector as he writhed on the ground, struggling to push himself up.

“Sophia?” Emmet asked, shocked by her sudden appearance. She knelt down next to Hector, and Emmet resisted the urge to shove her to the ground out of frustration as he approached. He started to shout, but she held up a hand in protest before he could get a word out. Emmet looked down at Hector and winced. The bear had gotten a good swipe down the boy’s shoulder, and three long claw marks were wet with blood.

“Oh gods…” Emmet groaned, feeling his stomach churn at the sight of it all. Sophia gently pressed down on Hector’s shoulder as he tried to sit up, encouraging him to lay on his stomach as she raised her hands.

“Young man? Can you hear me?” She asked.

Hector simply nodded, in far too much pain to do much else. Sophia dug around in her lather pouch, pulling out one of her Atriph’s mixes and popping off the cork with her thumb. She scarfed down the tonic and shuddered as she rested her hands on Hector’s back. She took a deep breath, and Emmet watched. He expected something more grand; a flash of light or a soft glow from Sophia’s hands as she miraculously healed Hector’s wounds, but that was not the case at all. The blood on his skin stayed, but the lacerations ever so gently began to seal as if time were speeding up. He felt like he should be surprised by what he was seeing, but after a few days with Sophia, watching her heal wounds before his eyes was of very little surprise.

“Hey, Hector?” Emmet asked as he knelt over him. “How do you feel?”

“He can’t hear you.” Sophia said, taking her hands from his skin and admiring her handiwork. “He’s out cold, and he’ll feel like hell when he wakes up, but he’ll live.”

Emmet looked down at the boy, his eyes were shut and he appeared to have drifted off into a deep sleep, like she said. However, he was relieved to see that his shoulders rose gently as he drew breath. Emmet stood to his feet, as did Sophia. But Emmet watched as she stumbled and caught herself before falling.

“What about you? Are you hurt?” She asked. Emmet shook his head, and that seemed to satisfy Sophia.

“Good, can you be a dear and carry him?” She asked as she caught her breath. Emmet had complained to himself about Sophia ordering him around for the past few days, but he was understanding. She looked awful, like she had just gone through a bad flu and was struggling just to stay on her own two feet. Emmet nodded, kneeling down to gently carry Hector in his arms. Thankfully, the boy was on the shorter side, and wasn’t difficult for Emmet to carry.

“Where did you go?” Emmet asked, coming down from the high of adrenaline that kept him going.

“I never left.” Sophia said as her breathing started to calm, walking next to Emmet, yet clearly spent of energy. “I simply kept out of sight and watched.”

“Watched?” Emmet asked, laughing in disbelief. “You really just sat back and let me almost get attacked by a rabid dog?”

“You had total control over the situation.” She replied. “Besides, I interrupted just when things were getting too dangerous.” She smirked, looking over to Emmet as if to taunt him.

“So I guess now you’re going to get onto me about not using any weaving, right?” He asked.

“Oh no, quite the opposite. You actually handled that situation remarkably well for someone of your abilities.”

That was not the reply Emmet had expected, it didn’t feel like he had done much of anything. “It doesn’t exactly feel like I did a lot…” Emmet groaned as he began to struggle with Hector’s weight in his arms, and began shifting him around.

“Well, I know that rabid dogs aren’t typically one for turning tail and running. Tell me, were you afraid when it started looking at you like a haunch of meat?”

Emmet shuddered, hearing the dog’s growls in the back of his mind as he pictured those eyes staring right through him.

“Yeah, I did.” He answered.

“And did it also feel like that fear suddenly vanished? Possibly right before Champ scurried away? Like the fear leaving your body?”

Emmet didn’t like that she could read him so easily. Was Sophia able to see what he was thinking? Or was she just exceptionally gifted when it came to reading others? Either way, he couldn’t help but feel a bit violated.

“Yeah…” he said, starting to understand what she was getting at.

“And you wanted to weave to protect Hector, even a novice could have known that. But you didn’t, you held it in because you knew your own limitations!”

Emmet would have blushed if it weren’t for the fact he was already straining to carry Hector across the field. He never did take praise well, but it did feel good to have a little bit of recognition.

“Yeah, I wasn’t exactly trying to get anyone else burned, so I kind of held back.” He said. His voice suddenly turning more somber. “But I was more afraid to weave, than anything. If you hadn’t come by and saved us…” Emmet shuddered, thinking of the very real possibility of becoming a beast’s dinner.

Sophia rested a hand on Emmet’s shoulder as the two of them walked, offering him a warm smile.

“Don’t worry, Emmet. You’ll learn the best way to handle a situation like that, in due time. But the fact that you showed restraint was what was most impressive.”

Emmet was actually starting to feel excited about the prospect of weaving. The rumors of them being maniacal and mindless killers seemed all the more silly as he settled into his role as one. It became clear that people did not understand the discipline it took just to manage yourself. All of this and he had only known he was a weaver for less than a fortnight. He couldn’t imagine what must be down the road.

“So, what else can I do?” Emmet asked, finding a second wind in his newfound excitement. Sophia chuckled at his ambition, shaking her head.

“We’ll go over that in the morning. For right now, let’s just get this young man home before his family notices that he left.

Emmet stayed outside while Sophia took Hector back into the cottage. The two of them took water from the well to wash his wounds as he lay unconscious. A few times he stirred, and Emmet thought he might wake up. But he stayed out the entire time. Sophia, having gathered the rest of her strength back, took the boy inside and returned after a few moments. Emmet was sitting on his pile of blankets, looking up at her as she returned.

“He will be fine, the rest of his family never knew he was gone.” She said, answering the question that Emmet didn’t need to ask. He let out a sigh of relief, glad that his adventure for the night seemed to have drawn to a close.

“What about the scars?” He asked.

“He shouldn’t feel them at first, and they should mostly heal away within a week or two. But his clothes should hide them until then.” Sophia sat back down on the ground across from Emmet, a weight seeming to lift from her.

“Well what happens when he wakes up?” Emmet asked.

“If we’re lucky, he’ll think it was just a bad dream and forget the whole thing. Now, you need to rest, Emmet.” She said bluntly.

“Yeah, you’re right.” It must have been near midnight by now, and it wasn’t like he had gotten the best night of sleep before they left the inn at Clesa. “What do we tell them about the hens?” Emmet asked as he laid down on the floor of the shed, his eyes already starting to feel heavy.

“Tell them it was a fox. Let Flint handle it from there.”

Emmet fell asleep the moment his head found rest. He wasn’t one to dream often, but when he did, it was often clear and lucid. He dreamed that he was in a vast field, grass grew up to his waist and flowed back in forth in the breeze like waves of the ocean. Above him was a void. Not a clear night sky, but a vast empty nothingness. There were no stars and no clouds, no source of light in the sky. And yet, he could see everything clearly.

Emmet ran his hands through the grass as he wandered ahead, hearing the familiar sound of hooves beating against dirt from behind. He whipped around, being met by two steeds staring at him. They stood perfectly still, as if they had hovered just behind him until he turned around. One sturdy and white as snow, the other lithe with a sandy brown coat. He reached out slowly with both hands, stroking their snouts and feeling safe, content in their company. The three of them walked ahead through the grass fields. Could it have been minutes? Hours? An entire day? Nothing was really clear until he reached out on either side of him to find that his two companions had vanished.

Emmet felt a strong sense of isolation as he looked around, the darkness seemed to be closing in on him with the steeds gone. Alone, with nobody to comfort him, he felt panic as the void began to set in upon him from the sky. He felt his heart race as he ran straight ahead, not stopping until he saw the familiar brown coat. But the horse he had met was no longer wild and free, it was strapped with armor. It bore the scars of a dozen battles and regarded Emmet with a cold indifference. He tried to approach the horse, to reach out and stroke its main, but it reared and kicked at him. Emmet backed away, fearful for his own safety as the horse turned and ran into the collapsing void.

Behind him, he heard a snort. He turned to see the white horse approaching him, scraping its hoof into the ground as it glared at Emmet. It let out a cry, and charged. Emmet tried to speak, but couldn’t recognize the words coming from his tongue. He wanted it to stop, he wanted to know what was going on and why it wanted to hurt him. But the horse gave him no regard, and Emmet had no choice but to raise his hand, heat welling in his palms as he prepared to defend himself. He only felt the heat leave his body as a hoof found the center of Emmet’s ribs, and he blacked out.

Emmet woke up with a stiff back and a sore neck. He was nervous the whole time that they met with their hosts, but Hector said nothing. He kept that aloof attitude he had offered the previous night when he and Sophia first arrived at the farmstead. Eying Emmet every few moments as Flint spoke to him and Sophia.

“And you saw the fox?” Flint asked Emmet, his arms crossed as he gave the young man a stern glare.

“Yes, sir.” Emmet replied. Flint nodded, taking out the bit of straw he had been chewing on and tossed it to the ground.

“Hector, I’m headed into town to get a trap. You look after your mom and sisters, hear?”

“Won’t be a problem.” Hector replied, looking at Emmet as his father went back inside the cottage. Sophia left to go back and gather their things from the shed. Emmet turned to follow her, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey.” Hector said, prompting Emmet to turn around. “Thanks for not ratting on me.”

Emmet did his best to offer a confused expression, but he could tell by Hector’s smirk that he wouldn’t be fooling him.

“It’s fine, I won’t tell either.” Hector said, stifling a laugh at the thought of the two of them sharing a secret together. “And listen. If being a weaver doesn’t ever work out, I can always talk pa into giving you a job here. At least until my big brother Tommand comes home.” He said, the shift in attitude almost too much for Emmet to process.

“Uh, thanks.” He said, still trying to ponder on the words to offer. “I think I’m gonna be stuck with Sophia for a little bit, but I’ll keep that offer in mind.”

“Emmet!” Sophia called out from the shed. She already had her pack slung over her shoulder, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. Emmet looked back to Hector, telling him goodbye before hurrying to gather his things as well. The duo walked down the path to the road, and went on their way.

“So, do we need to double back or keep going on ahead?” Emmet asked, following Sophia as she took the road left, continuing in the direction they left off on yesterday.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Sophia asked coldly.

Emmet stayed silent for just long enough to confirm Sophia’s suspicions. She grimaced, and let out a low grumble of frustration.

“He isn’t going to tell anyone.” Emmet insisted, unnerved by the souring of her mood. “He wouldn’t want to get in trouble either.”

Sophia stopped for a brief moment, then continued walking.

“I believe you.” She said, thus ending the conversation. But still, it didn’t put Emmet’s mind at ease. He couldn’t help but wonder; what if she didn’t believe him?