Brendyn Michael Forlorn's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

Brendyn clung to the platform rail, blood soaking his boot. The stranger stared down at him without moving. Below, the bramble-masked wolf paced the base of the tower, its split claws scraping wood. Brendyn opened his mouth to ask for shelter, but the words came out thin. His knee buckled. He caught himself on a woven screen strung with pale bone charms that clicked softly against his shoulder. "My leg," he said. "Please. I can pay. I can work. Just let me bind it before I fall." The stranger studied him a long moment. Then they stepped aside and gestured at the open door. A pale-eyed owl perched on the lintel, thorn-threaded talons gripping the wood. It did not flinch as Brendyn limped past. Inside, the platform opened to a ladder descending toward a small stone cottage tucked behind the tower, its trellis bare in the cold. The stranger guided him down and sat him on the step. They cut his trouser leg open with a short knife. The bite was deep and ragged. They pressed cloth to it, hard, until Brendyn hissed. Then they wrapped it tight with strips soaked in something that smelled like crushed root. "You'll keep the leg," they said. "Maybe. If you stay off it." They nodded toward a small wooden shrine beside the cottage, antlers carved into its door. "Sleep there tonight. I don't know you yet." Brendyn nodded. He had asked to stay, and been granted a night — no more. The bleeding had stopped. The wolf still circled somewhere beyond the trees. He lowered himself onto the shrine's worn floor and listened to the bone charms click in the wind, and understood he had bought himself only the smallest piece of time.