The sunlight was red on my closed eyelids. It was a struggle to swim back to consciousness, especially as the world buoyed me back to the blackness of sleep. But the sweet notes in the air promised a sky full of singing robins and blackbirds and that was enough to convince me to wake.

The name of the phantom appeared. Ealhstan. My name is Ealhstan.

The world moved as I lay still. I shielded my eyes from the bright golden streams flowing through twisted branches high above. I recognized the slender white bark of birch trees hiding behind other greater trees, their markings clashing further in the distance.

I was in a cart, pulled by two men, backs turned to me, wearing dark cowls making their way through a forest glade. My eyes lingered on the one carrying the weight of the forest behind him. He was a giant; built like a castle tower that could last for centuries. While they still had their backs to me, I took note of my immediate surroundings.

All around were things found in nature; branches, boulders, ropes, and sandstone. Sloshing somewhere in the corner was a large bucket of mud. I was tucked in the middle of it all, my shoulders leaning on damp stones that smelled of pond water. Everywhere else the smell of rich foliage, of green disturbed earth. There were no birds sitting atop branches after all; no sign of feather, beak, nor talons anywhere, but the songs resounded in the air as if the trees themselves remembered the chorus.

The giant stopped. The trees caught his voice when he spoke. “Ho, there, little Erin. Enjoying the ride back there?”

You must remember me.

My body swayed forward as their heads turned towards me, the smiles ready on their faces. Brother Wilbur chuckled with the giant.

You once called me your brother.

Yes...

we had gathered resources earlier to re-build yet another monastery – one that was so ruined, it looked like a forgotten remnant resting on top of a great, lush hill. We had our work cut out for us. Brother Swithin had pointed the places to gather whatever we needed to repair our new temporary home and we three headed for them under the cover of night. It was always us three because I was closest to Wilbur, whom I treated like a true older brother, and Ealhstan, who could very well be my uncle. I couldn’t stand being alone with a sniffing, disapproving Knox or an intimidating Blake, or a very loud, very obnoxious Woodrow.

We always had to travel at night time, preferably without the light of the moon, to not raise suspicion. What would the villagers or townspeople or nobles think when they spotted young monks transporting objects of sheer quantity and scale? They would meet us soon enough, anyway, once things are in order. Once Brother Blake gave the signal.

We reached the rocky hillside first, then the marshlands. I helped as best as I could, collecting the stones my weak arms can hold. Knox would have probably stopped me, called me a stupid boy for trying to help, and just let them do their job. But I helped, and they let me, Ealhstan pointing to a small quarry beyond, and Wilbur pointing to the familiar plants he kept in his garden – yellow dandelions and red rhododendrons and such. When we came to the thick forest to collect timber, I had already worn myself out.

All of us do get tired when we use our miracles. The curious thing is that we don’t get it back after a brief rest. They did not explain, but our power, it turns out, came at a curious cost. There was a month when Brother Ealhstan's arms shook under the weight of a boulder.

Wilbur chuckled. “If only we too could take a nap that easily. You put cats to shame.” He brushed some leaves that landed on his felt hat. I knew he was just teasing. To Ealhstan, he said, “This was quite the detour, Brother. How did you find this path? It’s not even on one of the local maps.”

“I simply had to push a tree over. Swithin may be efficient at finding the apparent best locations for our resources, but he rushes over gems such as this hidden forest.”

If only I could break stones to reveal precious ores or crush normal rocks into diamonds, I thought. If only I could run fast, reach hilltop to hilltop in a span of seconds. But I had no such miracles. I was just tagging along, carried and taken care of by my dark brothers.

Wilbur took out his journal and scribbled. For years now he had kept many journals. He probably meant to add this location to the many maps back at the monastery.

“Oh, don’t write on those pages just yet. Wait until we reach deeper into the swamp.”

“This forest leads to a swamp? What is there in a swamp for me to take note of?”

“Brother, do you know what a surprise is? It waits for you yonder.”

Wilbur looked back at me with that amused face again. Brother Ealhstan led us deeper into the heart of this lowland forest until the road became soft and their steps squished. Willows now accompanied birch trees, along with ferns and mosses that flourished beneath them. At some point, we had left the cart on stable ground; our clothes and I plopped along with them, the ground giving way to my feet. Is this how you feel, Ealhstan, when you use your might? We made our way through mud and moss until Ealhstan pointed to a clearing up ahead.

“There is the prize for your patience, brother monk. I hope you like it.”

We didn’t see anything worthwhile, at first, but when Wilbur waddled closer, he made a sound of discovery – a pop of joy followed quickly by steps splashing in swamp water. He looked much like a child that had spotted a wrapped present. Wilbur examined the surface of an unusual boulder sitting in the midst of curious water lilies with red-purple flowers. The strangeness came from the glow they seem to emit. A reddish-purplish kind of powdery glow that spread onto the boulder.

“It’s moss!” Wilbur called. “But a different – no - a new kind! And over here! There are shrooms! With the same color. Oh, do you think it may be poisonous? Erin, this might be a new poisonous species!”

His joy reached us, tickled us so that we laughed. Wilbur took out his phials and round glass bottles. He knelt and smudged brilliant crimson petals with his thumbs, and collected samples that he would analyze with fire and a myriad of tests. He would work on these relentlessly until his tests hold a reaction. It was this way he discovered those sleeping draughts and fast-acting medicine that saved the lives of many villagers close to death. He probably would have saved the rest of the world if only he was allowed. But Brother Blake wouldn’t allow it – we’d put ourselves in great danger and we are the last of our kind. So, we treat the dying in our infirmary – a tonic right behind his closed doors. A tonic just out of reach for those poor folks that could have lived.

But to see the joy on his face now - he still had a life of discovery. At the monastery, he was quiet like me. Reserved and always in his workshop away from the monastery proper and when I knew there was banging and explosion I had to stay away. Those were the days I was loneliest.

He was mumbling. “Maybe they must have cross-pollinated somehow? The right conditions, so far away from human disruption?”

“Enjoy, brother!” I called.

“It was a good thing he was immune. I can already imagine building his alchemy room.” Ealhstan set the cart down. I looked at the stones and boulders that I was leaning on, mossy on the sides. “Do you know I’ve often found some new herbs for his garden every time we move? And he had asked me to build a spacious one this time, for all his flowers and plants and fruits."

Wilbur, like the rest of my brothers, had their workstations in the different parts of the monastery. Monasteries usually have the same layout, but there are some that we visited that were lacking in facilities. It did not matter. We improved them, and we couldn’t do it without Brother Ealhstan’s miraculous strength and Brother Swithin’s speed and senses.

“You would all be busy tonight once we get home.”

Ealhstan noticed the shift in tone. His gaze looked at a still preoccupied Wilbur and then he turned to me. He leaned on the cart’s edge and patted the space next to him. “How many years has it been since our travels together?”

I shook my head. He knew as well as I that time meant nothing to us. We lived to serve in the shadows. I didn’t question it at all, because when I did, my head hurt. But Ealhstan’s eyes looked eager, and he took the first step in answering my questions.

“How many monasteries have we built together?”

“Since I joined you? This would be our sixth.”

“I have to tell you something. Since you joined us was the very first time we were building monasteries. That very first monastery we found you, I thought the stones would have crushed your frail body, but you survived, breathing. And bleeding.”

Brother Ealhstan leaned on the cart, his face relaxed. He rested his chin on his big hands, looking at me. “Did you know? It has been such a long time since we saw blood. A long time enough to forget that we are human too. But the way Blake talks about us, you'd think we were a separate higher species." He shook his head. Power does not make one's worth Erin. Remember that."

He smiled at me affectionately. He touched my hair, his hands bigger than the back of my head. "My first thought when I saw you crawl up that ruin with Wilbur and Blake... my first thought was that you were so young, so little and so young, Erin. You still are." He looked up, suddenly. "Hey, do you think that that could be your power? To be so adorable and lull people into protecting your adorable hide?"

I slapped his hand away playfully. He chuckled. "You are capable of more than our powers combined. The way our dear Blake looks at you, how he seems to be so invested in you and all those tests. You have power, Erin. Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

"I won't." I smiled at him and jumped away. His words lifted my spirits. I jumped off the wagon intending to help Wilbur. Then great brother Ealhstan stood, and without his weight, the wagon tottered.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you." He laughed and brought the span of those great arms around me. He whispered, "Don't be afraid this time." And then his strong arms lifted me high. I knew, then.

"Ealhstan, no, don't!"

He threw me up in the air. My laughter echoed all around sending the birds away, disturbing the swampy marshy air. With his supreme strength, I almost could reach the clouds. I heard Wilbur swear and scold Ealhstan, and Ealhstan's booming laughter. In the air, It truly felt like I was one that could fly. I did not feel any weight. I raised my arms and flapped them about, living the fantasy of being an uncaged bird. Was this how birds felt? The sheer joy of being free in all this space, free to go wherever they pleased. Flying through towns and villages and cities in a single day. When reality pulled me downward, I saw Ealhstan's open smiling face ready to catch me.

He caught me on my sides and prepared to lift me up in the air. When he threw me once more, I thought his mouth moved.

I want a son. I wanted a son just like you, you know.

Wilbur shouted from atop the hill, “Be careful!”

When Ealhstan caught me for the last time, his face getting bigger and bigger until it was his face is all I could see, his eyes swallowing me, it was his voice I heard.

“Be careful, little Erin.”