Nathan is sitting on the clearing ground with his ass deep in grass in an awkward lotus and concentrating as if his life depended on it, which in a way it does. The vibrant feeling starts at the back of his head and spreads out in his body, taking strange paths. The woodsmoke and obsidian aura he recognizes as his own mingles with the wet earth and clean soil feel in a seamless mix. With agonizing slowness the tingling finally moves outward toward its target.

“Will it.”

Gwain’s voice sounds different in this state, fuller and somehow, more intimate. Nathan follows her instruction, pushing the feeling of life and energy outward and along his arm inch by inch, to a point outside of his body. The feeling is eerie.

“Release it.”

It takes all of Nathan’s willpower and stamina to maintain the flow for even a few seconds but he manages to hold, sweat dripping down is back. The strange energy evaporates as he lowers his hand and he sits back, exhausted and panting.

On the ground, just in front of his knees stands a fully bloomed flower. A tulip. This is neither the place nor the season and yet its carmine petals unfold to catch the pale light.

“I did it!”

“Congratulations, Nathan Mordred Turner. On your third day. And you did not blank.”

Nathan raises his hand to his left temple, head already well on its way to a tequila-night-hangover class migraine.

“Hum about that?”

Gwahin stops sharpening her spear and leans to the side, grabbing a wooden flask and emptying a light green liquid in a very small bowl. Nathan manages to stand up and grab the bowl gratefully before gulping it down like a vodka shot. The bitter concoction leaves a root like aftertaste in his mouth. She puts the flask down and it disappears in the tall grass, then starts polishing what looks like a bow frame.

“I guess it’s an acquired taste”

“You already said that twice before.”

“If I keep repeating it maybe it will become true.”

Weaving had proven exhausting both on the body and mind. The first time he had tried he had “blanked”. Blanking is a strange feeling, there is no memory of it and when consciousness flows back it’s as if no time had passed. It just leaves an uncomfortable impression and makes one helpless. Nathan had had proof when he had gone home and realized that Gwahin’s good mood had stemmed from the floral pattern she had drawn on his forehead while he had been out.

Gwahin inspects the flower then nods, satisfied.

“We will continue this tomorrow, for now, you should rest. I heard mortals do not always come back from being blanked.”

“Ugh, you’re telling me now?! “

“Relax I would not put you in danger. Well! Not in mortal danger anyway. “

As the pain starts to fade, Nathan gets a flash of half-devoured arm. He shivers and pushes the image away knowing well that it would return. Nathan had had difficulty understanding what flashbacks meant to someone who had a traumatic experience. He thinks he understands a bit more now. It seems to him like there is little way to fight it. How exactly do you not think about something? Exactly.

“Oh before I forget my mom will come over at some point. She will probably yell at me, but, she’s not a threat alright? No need to do anything.”

“Oh I won’t, I only intervene if you are in serious danger.”

“Yeah, that got me to think. I need to be more careful, I mean, when Henkel pulled a gun on me I didn’t think too much but I realize that you can avenge me but not exactly protect me.”

“What are you talking about dear host, of course, if you had been in mortal danger I would have killed him.”

“So you can tell he wasn’t going to shoot?”

Gwahin laughs as if Nathan had told a joke, looks at him and laughs again at his confusion.

“Hahaha, of course, silly me, how can you know? He would not have hit you.”

“At this range?”

“You weaved the most peculiar thing, a sort of displacement. I have never seen, or even heard of anything like it. He would have shot a few inches to your right and probably damaged your teapot.”

“Wait so I weaved? I actually weaved?”

“Of course! It is not unsurprising, you were in mortal danger after all.”

“How come I weaved without realizing it but now I feel like I have run a half marathon just by making a tulip bloom?”

“Ah yes. You remember what I said about intent, yes? The flow reacts to stronger intent. It can be achieved by discipline just as well as strong emotions, but emotions are unreliable. So! That is why you must train. “

“Ok. I suppose. “

Nathan remembers his exhaustion during and after Henkel’s visit. That might explain it.

“Will more discipline really allow me to do anything more than landscaping?”

“Of course, but weaving is like hunting. How can you be strong when you have never used your muscles before? Only time and effort will make your muscles strong, yes? The more you weave and the more you will be able to weave. Also! You need balance and control on top of power. So! We work on this first. And then! I will have you weave while I try to stab you.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good incentive.”

“You will learn how to weave while I try to stab you, or you will learn while a Varog eats you alive. Is that good enough incentive Nathan Mordred Turner?”

“Hrm yeah. Can you stop using my full name it reminds me of my mom when she’s pissed.”

“No.”

“Sigh. Ok. Hum. About the Varogs. Have you thought about anything? There has to be a pattern for those attacks.”

“Yes, of course, I have thought about it. And I know the patterns. Also! I have decided not to help you.”

“What!? I thought you were, I don’t know, at least curious?”

“Your story and this situation have indeed attracted my attention, however, I do not wish for you to depend on me too much. I will provide assistance by steering my teachings and making sure you do possess the knowledge needed to complete your tasks, but I will not do this for you.”

“That’s the longest “sort your own fucking mess” I ever heard.”

“I do abhor vulgarity. Next! Time for you to “sort the mess”, as you said.”

“Ok. Ok. Well. The essence of it is that I need to locate and kill the two remaining Varogs, assuming there is only two of course.”

“Better.”

“Could you possibly help me find them?”

Gwahin half smile is replaced by an expression that mixes both disappointment and disgust. Gwahin’s girly face and sharp teeth only make the impression more condemning somehow.

“Let me rephrase, is there any way to find a Varog using a tool similar to the one you gave me to find Sarah.”

“It would work if you had something belonging to that specific Varog you are looking for, if not I’m afraid a very short distance is all you can manage, and even that will cause you a great deal of difficulty. You are simply not ready.”

Nathan tries to work a different angle. Tracking death? No way, too big. Violence against humans? Stupid.

“Is there any way to track weavings made by Varogs? You said they have a way to influence others?”

“Better mortal, you are starting to think. I was getting desperate and wondering if what sat atop your shoulders was only for balance and decoration. You cannot know, but tracking a Varog aura would be like finding a needle in a haystack warehouse.”

Nathan feels discouraged but he cannot give up. His time with Gwahin is limited due to his work and her propensity to avoid any serious topic when she is at his place, being fully busy devastating his pantry or watching TV.

“How about attracting them? They are predators, I should be able to lure them.”

This time Gwahin smiled in earnest.

“Yes you could, provided you know what they seek. And you should.”

“I should?”

“Yes, all that you need to know has already been provided to you. “

“I know they mostly hunt pairs, but not always. Hum. It’s highly possible the police officer was collateral damage.”

“Yes.”

“I still don’t see a pattern, Why pairs? Maybe I should just ask…”

“ENOUGH!”

The sudden scream breaks the clearing’s calm aura. The peaceful feeling of vitality turns to something more feral Wood creaks and groans around Nathan as he feels cold dread creep up his spine. Just as it came, the feeling goes. The fear stays. Gwahin’s mask of fury reverts to a more sulky expression, turning the bare-fanged horror into an average looking girl once more. The only sign of her outburst is the anger in the molten gold of her eyes.

“Do not waste my time mortal, you would regret it. You need to stop asking others and start asking yourself. “

“You gave me all the hints I needed to resolve this didn’t you?”

The last of Gwahin’s anger disappears when she sees he is facing the problem head-on. The term “moody bitch” may or may not have come to Nathan’s mind.

“Yes.”

She thinks for a moment and adds with an expression that speaks of all the arrogance of a noblewoman giving a coin to a retarded peasant so that he could feed his family.

“Perhaps I can give you one last hint. Notice what happens to each member of the pair.”

“For Patience they captured her and her friend escaped.”

“Lucky her.”

“They captured Seren and killed her boyfriend.”

“Yes.”

“They captured Sarah. Alone.”

“That was not an attack on a pair though, was it?”

“Ok. The attack on the pair happened a day before. When she was with me.”

“Yes.”

“Seren can weave, I’m almost sure of it. They had her and Patience longer but never touched them, but they ate Sarah.”

“…”

“They grab a pair. One is a weaver, one is dinner. Patience is a weaver as well.”

“…”

“Sarah was eaten because of me. They must have felt me on her…”

“She spends a lot of time with you.”

Nathan gulps. He is the cause of Sarah’s missing arm.

“What do they do with those weavers if they don’t eat them.”

“That is an excellent question, dear host. When they next come for you, you should ask them.”

Nathan walks around the clearing, stealing glances at Gwahin who is now applying some kind of oil on a nasty looking recurve bow, minus the string. It looks bigger than her.

“Mmmm I want to make sure the girls are weavers, but we can’t go see them, besides you need to stay here. Perhaps I could invite them to have a look at you.”

“Dear host, if you can successfully convince a woman to enjoy a stroll in an empty forest with a man she does not know to see a mythical creature less than a week after she was violently abducted by cannibalistic monsters, you do not want her as an ally, she is too stupid to live!”

“Alright, I got your point. Is there a weaving I can do to see if they are sensitive to it.”

“Dear host, if you want to see if they are sensitive to magic, it stands to reason that any piece of magic would suffice, so long as they notice it.”

"So I could just grow a flower in front of them."

"Will you test their ability to feel or their ability to see? And do you expect them to be as sensitive as you? Besides, you cannot."

"What? But I just did!"

"You can take two hours to grow a flower in the heart of the forest, at the core of my power and in a place favored by the flow, under my help and supervision. Doing it in the cold light of winter, stranded on a sea of concrete with people watching you is still far beyond your capabilities.”

Gwahin puts the bow frame down on the grass. It disappears from view.

“Nathan, I do not wish to curb your enthusiasm. You have been a great host and a good man, and I am glad it was you who freed me, but I must be the bearer of harsh truths. You are not unlike a man who has never walked before."

"Like in the Matrix?"

"Do not interrupt. You only started moving a week ago. Your ability to perceive things is extraordinary, and this weaving you made was impressive, for a neophyte, but weaving by design is something else altogether. It will force your… Izham. That part of you that touches the flow, to great effort. Right now it is incredibly weak, and it will take time to fully develop. It is not something that can be hurried. Do not count on weaving offensively this year, or the next."

"I, I see. So me opening this flower and weaving something on the Varogs is like driving on an empty parking lot versus in Manhattan during rush hour."

"I suppose I should be satisfied with your feeble mind grasping this concept, I will not give this comparison the comment it deserves."

"Wow Gwahin you managed to insult me even more than if you had actually used a proper insult. Color me impressed.”

That gets Nathan a fanged smile. Actually, that gets him two fanged smiles. He watches with curiosity as the third weird creature he ever saw (except if you count his ex Emily, that woman was insane) float a few inches away from his face. The creature is humanoid, as long as his hand and painfully thin. It remains afloat on a set of large dragonfly wings and is made with what looks like bark and thorns. Nathan reflexively extends an index and the creepy faerie lands on it, light as a feather. Now that it stopped moving, Nathan can see in more detail that its feet and arms are thin and long like roots, and that it has a face that would look almost human. It is currently looking around with the confused face of a drunk man waking up naked in a chicken coop. While hugging a traffic cone. Right before the hangover hits.

“Ah yes. A Sylvan. I was…. Expecting it.”

Nathan lowers his hand and the Sylvan clings to it with desperation. If it were not for the light touch on his skin, he believes that he would not even have noticed it.

“You don’t sound thrilled. Wait it’s not going to eat me right?"

"You’re too big. And they prefer sugar."

"They?"

"Yes, he is the first one. More will come eventually… It is just that…"

"Spill it."

"I am loath to ask one more thing of you, but it would be in both our interests if you could take him with you.”

Gwahin’s face is unreadable.

“Come again?"

"You see it is my fault. I come here, I disrupt the season so I can jump start my growth. I use the power of this place and amplify it. The magic wakes up, yes? It feels like spring has come. So! The first Sylvan is born, except, it is almost winter and he will die."

"He will starve?"

"Starve. Fade. Freeze. I do not know, but he will die."

"What about you?"

"Thank you for your concern. I can almost hibernate now. Unless you accept me in your house, then I can prepare and grow faster."

"Well it’s not like you’re not already sleeping on my couch and eating in my fridge. Tell me more about Toothy here.”

Big mistake. Nathan jumps as the flow flexes and stretches around him like a lazy cat. The trees in the clearing move and creak under an invisible wind as something builds up between them. Nathan could not have moved if he had wanted to, instead he opens his perception to the flow around him. It tastes like brambles and mischief and behind it, his own wood fire and obsidian. A link grows taut between them and snaps loudly. The flow abates as quickly as it had risen.

“TOOTHY?! TOOTHY!? REALLY?”

Nathan’s face freezes into his most professional and customer friendly face out of sheer conditioning. He is not sure that this valuable defense mechanism will work on a blood drinking Yol though. Gwahin keeps screaming.

“Do you even have any idea what you’ve done?"

"I’m going to assume I named him?"

"And you named him Toothy! Toothy! A Sylvan firstborn!"

"Ok ok I’m sorry but Toothy isn’t that bad right? What did you expect? A Haiku?”

Gwahin slaps her head with a hand, a very human gesture.

“Aaahhh. I always forget that you know nothing. You almost look like a proper adult and then things like this happen. Well. At least you have bound now.”

Toothy is now trying to explore Nathan’s sleeve.

“It’s a bit late now but what does that entail?"

"Well. You will need to warm him and feed him during this winter. Sweet stuff. Those honey covered nuts will work well. Hum. I think I finished the bag you will have to get some more. The Sylvan is now imprinted on you he will follow you everywhere. He is very useful , you will see."

"Can he throw rocks the size of small cars shoot laser from his eyes and do the dishes afterward?"

"Please do not test my patience any further. He will amplify your grasp on the flow while he is around. It is not much but… Right now you are as vulnerable as a babe. No, worse even, because a babe could be spared out of pity."

"Is there any drawback? Does he shorten my lifespan or something?"

"Not as such.”

Gwahin is suddenly very still, shedding her humanity in an instant. Her smooth voice comes from a faraway place.

“You do not understand. Intent goes both ways. Just as you weave the world it changes you. You can barely do anything and already, ripples from your actions affect things around you. The Sylvian gets a stupid name. The detective gets involved. Your colleague gets mutilated. You are thrown into a game with rules you do not understand. I will try to help but there is so much to do.”

“Sufficient unto the day is the Varog thereof. Chill. I’m still alive and I can make it work. Speaking of which, I got an appointment, gotta go. See ya!”

“Please take this seriously.”

“You said I needed a weapon right? I'm going to get one now.”

“Is it a baseball bat? Wait I need to explain a few more things!”

“Sorry Gwahin, gotta split. Bye!”

Nathan walks away with the strange creature nestled in his sleeve. Well, it will help his weaving and he has to feed it in return. He’s basically a pet. It’s probably nothing he cannot handle.