*label ch4_samhain
The forest swallows me and my dimly flickering torch as I hasten my steps. It's one thing to stretch the days worth of celebrations for one night only, it's entirely another thing to spend the half of that time with stupid Romans. Whatever will the gods think of this? 

As the thought crosses my mind, I halt my step and look around the darkness, seeing nothing. Even the stars hide behind the thick layer of black clouds.

I haven't felt the Twins' presence for months now.

Can the gods… die? Have I lost them, too?

No. That can't be true.

With a frown I continue, in my mind thinking that Floyd and the others must have had the dinner by now. Have they shared mead with the Dead, as they should?

Then, a deeply hidden thought forces its way on top of my mind: Could father be here?

Before I can explore the thought any further, a series of distant whispers creep into my ears, making me halt my step. I peer into the forest, trying to make sense of the words. It's incoherent and too distant.

Perhaps that's for the better.

With a bite of my lip I continue.

It doesn't take long to find the designated spot to the festivities; I just follow the drunken noises. Once I realize that the site is all but dark, worry takes over me. Fear creeps into my heart, following worry in its steps; it shouldn't be dark during Samhain. 

*page_break Something is not right.
No. That's wrong. It appears that not a single thing is right. 

I arrive in a scene of absolute mayhem:

Pec and Brick lie on the ground, Pec has a dark area on his trousers indicating that he's pissed himself. He's wearing a dark green cloak and there's a beard of sorts glued on his chin.

Brick has a poorly made wicker man in his hands, it's mangled and beaten.

Floyd is being squeezed by a sobbing Kegan.

Quinn is nowhere to be seen.

And all of this is happening in a pitch-black darkness.
*page_break This is not good at all.

Floyd seems like the most coherent person in this situation.

"Ah! You came!" He sighs in clear relief as he sees me.

"I did…" However, now I wish I didn't. "What is going on here? Why is it so dark?" My torch is the only thing illuminating the scene.

Floyd flinches when our gazes meet; I don't know what he saw but the sight makes him turn his eyes away from mine. "The celebration of Samhain." He takes a look around and adds: "I suppose. We were just about to leave. The last torch died out. It's a good thing you have one!"

I nod, slowly, taking in the situation, trying my best not lash out just yet. It doesn't seem like the rituals were done properly. "Where is Quinn?"

"Your friend built an altar in the forest. $!{q_he} wanted to be left alone," Floyd says, as if anticipating that I would ask about ${q_him}.

"Ah." Of course ${q_he} did. I wouldn't want these people to sully my altar, either. 

"Where is the bonfire?"

"It, um, died."

*page_break It. Died.

I take a deep breath. "Did you at least remember to give mead to the Dead?"

Floyd flinches and looks away. 

"Well?"

"Umm… Pec said that the Dead can drink from the ground. So we just poured some mead there."

The corner of my eye twitches. "You made the Dead drink from the ground?"

"Uh… Pec was very convincing. He said that's how it's done."

I make a mental note of punching Pec in his abdomen once he wakes up.

I need to fix this. "How come Quinn didn't stop you?"

"$!{q_he}'s been elsewhere this whole time." He rubs his neck in clear embarrassment. He should be embarrassed! 

*fake_choice
    #"I just have to say that I have never in my life seen such blasphemy." It's almost true. Only the burning of the grove was worse than this.
        Disappointment oozes from my words like putrid from a festering wound. Floyd flinches.
        
        "I… umm. I'm… really sorry." He rubs his neck even harder. "I'm not entirely familiar with the customs. I… thought that Pec knows something about these things."
        
        "Evidently he's a fool."
        
        "It seems so, yes. I should've known better."
        
        "Yes. But what's done is done." Now it's up to me to fix this.
        
        "I will help, of course."
    #"Where did you learn to celebrate Samhain this way?" I just observe the mayhem, trying to figure out who's to blame for it.
        "I… I'm not entirely familiar with the customs. Pec was the one who led the festivities."
        
        "So this is all Pec's fault?"
        
        "It's not fair to blame this all on him but… Yes. This is all his fault."
    #I'm too shocked to speak.
        I try to. I try to say that they'd earn to be devoured by the Others because of this. But nothing comes out.
        
        Floyd flinches. "I… Pec said that's how Samhain is done."
        
        "One does not 'do' Samhain. One respects the Dead and the ancestors."
        
        "Ah. Yes. Indeed. I think Pec missed that part. I would say that this is all his fault."

Kegan bobs his head. The movement makes me realize that he's still here, squeezing the life out of Floyd.

"What is it?" I ask. I'm not sure if I even want to know.
        
"I saw dead people." Kegan's eyes widen even more as he seems to recollect the event. 

"Well… That's the point of Samhain." More so when these fools have angered the spirits. No wonder they wander about. There's not even a bonfire to make them feel welcomed.

"No one told me that I would actually [i]see[/i] dead people."

"Who did you see?"

"I saw an old man without his head."

Without his head? A surge of hope rises within me but I stifle it. Many people die by decapitation. "Could you describe the man for me?"

"Uh." He pales. "I'd rather not."

*fake_choice
    #Let the issue be.
        I want to ask but I doubt I'd get a coherent answer from him. His face is still drained out of all color as he looks at me, clearly hoping I wouldn't pry for more information.
        
        I let out a disappointed sigh. "You don't need to tell me."
        
        He lets out a relieved exhale. "Thank you."
        
        If he's here, I'm sure I'll see him. If he's here, he came to see me. I'm sure he can find me if I light every candle and set up a bonfire. All I can do is to hope.
        *page_break
    #Push the issue. What if it was him?
        Urgency flashes through me. "Kegan. I need you to tell me what he looked like."
        
        "What? I didn't take a good look! I didn't want to!"
        
        "Did he have a beard?"
        
        His eyes widen. He waits before answering, as if hoping I would change my mind about asking. However, when I merely look at him and wait, he lets out a shaky sigh. 
        
        "He did hold the head by its… chin. So yeah?" The boy looks like he's about to puke on me.
        
        "I think that is enough," Floyd says and pats Kegan on the head.
        
        I nod. He doesn't seem coherent enough to tell me more about this spirit. Besides, I have urgent matters to attend to.
        *page_break
        
A small table that was used for the feast is fallen sideways on the ground, most likely thrown there during the mayhem that took place. The food and drinks are scattered on the ground. With a deep sigh I start to think of a plan: First, I need to pour mead to the Dead. That is, if I can find any mead left. Then, if there are any candles intact, I need to light them to guide the spirits and let them know that they are welcome here.

Lastly, I need to build a fire. There was one but it's died out by now, as Floyd said. I walk towards the remains with a deep frown. Even the embers have sizzled out, something was poured on them. By the biting smell of it, it's been pissed on.

I rub my face. These idiots are even worse than Romans.

The forest sighs in freezing disappointment as I tighten the cloak around me. This is not good at all. These fools have angered the spirits. No wonder Kegan saw someone wandering about.

Quinn. I need to find Quinn. There's too much to do and this is urgent.
*page_break

It doesn't take long to find ${q_him}. $!{q_he} sits in front of an altar made of scattered animal bones and sticks. Dried leaves, acorns, berries, and harvest food decorate the altar. It looks as it should. 

At least something is done right during this Samhain.

"Quinn?"

A little snout of a squirrel peeks over Quinn's shoulder. Their nose is twitching furiously as they're checking if I'm friendly or not.

I halt my steps and forget my urgency as the little eyes inspect me. "I didn't realize you had company."

Quinn turns to me and takes the squirrel on his palm. $!{q_he} doesn't try to prevent them from fleeing, yet the squirrel chooses to stay in place. The squirrel eyes me with suspicion, at least I think so. Squirrels are small, it's hard to distinguish their facial features. Besides, what little light there is to illuminate the altar does nothing to the dominating darkness surrounding us.
        
"Senga, I want you to meet my friend ${name}." $!{q_he} coos to the animal in a voice that I haven't heard from ${q_his} lips in a long time.

*fake_choice 
    #Greet the squirrel properly.
        "Hello there, Senga," I say and aim my words straight at the little critter. I turn my gaze up to see Quinn smiling at me. 
        
        $!{q_he} nods, cocking ${q_his} head toward the squirrel. "Senga says hello."
        
        "How did you meet?"
        
        "She thought I was stealing her nuts while making the altar. She bit me on my ankle." $!{q_he} shows a freshly made wound on ${q_his} skin.
        
        I frown, despite the playfulness. I hope it doesn't get infected. 
        
        Quinn notices my discomfort. "It's fine. I put some plantain on it."
        
        "I mean no offense, Senga. It's better to be careful."
        
        "Senga says that she doesn't mind."
        
        Senga sizzles through her teeth. It seems she minds, after all.
    #"Can I pet them?"
        "Let me ask her." Quinn raises the squirrel to ${q_his} ear, as if to listen to her opinion on the matter. Quinn nods, makes a face as ${q_he}'s looking at me, then gives the squirrel a stern nod. 
        
        "She said that you should keep your flea-infested hands off of her."
        
        "What?! She's the one who nests in trees. If there's anyone who'd be infested with flees, it's…"
        
        "Excuse me! Are you insulting my squirrel?"
        
        "Yes! She started it!"
        
        Quinn manages to keep a straight face for as long as I do; not long. We both start laughing. It almost feels out of place to laugh, it's as if that sound belongs to a different time.
    #Just look at the squirrel.
        The squirrel looks straight back at me. Then, after a long silence, Quinn says:
        
        "Are you having a staring competition with my squirrel?"
        
        "Not on purpose."
        
        "It just happened?"
        
        "Basically, yes."
        
        "That indeed happens to the best of us."
    #Ignore the squirrel. This is urgent.

I shake my head as the image of the mayhem I left behind pops into my mind. "Never mind your new friend, I came here because… I…" I have no words for what I saw. Shivers run through me as I think of the spirits looking at the mead soaking into the ground.

My breathing unsteadies as my mind wanders back to what I saw. "They gave the Dead their drink from the… the… ground."
        
Quinn winces. "They did what? Who… why? Why?"

I shake my head. I don't know. I really don't.

*fake_choice
    #"I want to believe that they tried their best." Not Pec, though. I should punch Pec.
        "If that was their best, I don't want to know what their worst would've been."
        
        "Well, yes. You have a point. Let's not even think about that."
    #"They are all fools."
        "It sure sounds like it."
    #"It doesn't matter whose fault this is. The Dead are angry."
        I can feel their disappointment in my bones. They were not shown the way to the other side. They were not made feel welcome. Their most important celebration was tainted with ignorance and blasphemy.

Quinn looks at Senga before turning ${q_his} gaze to me with a wicked grin. "I think we should let the denizens of the Otherworld devour them. They invited them here, it's only fair that they should pay the price."

*fake_choice
    #"Perhaps we should just kill them ourselves." I'm just joking. Right?
        Quinn perks up. $!{q_he} starts nodding, a bright smile illuminating ${q_his} features. "Oh! Yes. Please. It wouldn't be too hard, I would just—"
        
        "I wasn't serious."
        
        "Oh." The smile on ${q_his} face dies. "I see. Well… I wasn't serious either."
        
        "You sounded like you were."
        
        "But it was just a joke. They should die for what they did. But of course I wouldn't be the one to sully my hands to do it."
    #"I think so, too." A part of me really wants to do that.
        After what they did to the ancient rituals, that's what they'd deserve. In reality, however, I'm not sure if that's the right thing to do. 
        
        Quinn nods with a devious smile. "Let's extinguish all the fire around them."
        
        The way ${q_his} murderous demeanor perked up makes me quickly shake my head. "I don't think we should murder them."
        
        "But [i]we[/i] wouldn't murder them. They would die by the Others."
        
        "Still, it would raise too many questions. Besides, we're not here to kill Britons."
        
        "They are basically Romans."
        
        "Quinn. No."
        
        "I wasn't serious! At all. Of course we won't let them be killed." $!{q_he} smiles sweetly, as if the plan wasn't discussed seriously just a few moments ago. 
    #"No. We won't do that." That's tempting, though.
        After what they did to the ancient rituals, that's what they'd deserve.
        
        "Are you sure?" Quinn smells my hesitation. "We could extinguish all the fire around them. The Others would find them in no time. We wouldn't have to sully our hands at all, we wouldn't even have to watch." The smile on ${q_his} face is too sweet for the topic we're discussing. "If you want to, of course."
        
        "No. We are not killing them. We're not here to kill Britons."
        
        "They basically are Romans, at this point. They don't even know the ancient rituals. They just spoiled everything!"
        
        I shake my head.
        
        "Ha! I wasn't serious. At all. Of course we won't let them be killed." $!{q_he} smiles sweetly, as if the plan wasn't discussed seriously just a few moments ago. 
    #"No one is devouring anyone. Let's just begin the rituals."
        "But—"
        
        "Quinn. No. We're not letting the Others to kill them."
        
        "I wasn't serious! At all. Of course we won't let them be killed." $!{q_he} smiles sweetly and shrugs.

*fake_choice
    #Was ${q_he} always this bloodthirsty?
        No. I don't think so. This is something new. Is it caused by the blessing?
        
        A worrying thought.
        
        On the other hand, our whole clan is dead, we're on a foreign land, surrounded by enemies. Who disrespect the Dead.
        
        I suppose I should give ${q_him} some benefit of the doubt.
        
        *if quinn_yup_demon
            A little. Even though ${q_he}'s probably a bloodthirsty demon. 
    #"How could you even suggest that?"
        "Don't tell me it didn't cross your mind when you saw what they did. I merely voiced the thought we both had."
        
        I can't deny that the scene of absolute blasphemy didn't raise some unruly thoughts within me.
        
        "Fine. Don't sound so serious about it, though."
        
        "Of course not! Unless we decide to do it, after all."
        
        "Quinn. No."
        
        $!{q_he} prances off with a little skip on ${q_his} step and pretends ${q_he} doesn't hear me.
    #It was just a joke. They'd deserve it after what they did.
    #There are more important things to think about right now.

I shake my head and follow ${q_him}. 
*page_break

I couldn't actually blame ${q_him} for suggesting it. I would've never left them to celebrate Samhain without me if I knew what a bunch of idiots they were.

A sudden moan deep from the forest creeps on us and lingers around us like a plague, sending shivers down my spine. Every hair in my body stands up. Quinn's eyes are atypically widened as ${q_he} looks at me. It's followed by a series of whispers. They're incoherent, they dance around us, creeping into our ears. It's the same whisper I heard before.

Quinn quickly comes back to my side. "Didn't that sound somehow different?" $!{q_he} sounds uncharacteristically worried.

"Different how?" I ask, even though I know the answer. Those were not typical moans of the Dead.

The whispers suddenly die out, as quickly as they came. We both peer into the forest. It's unnaturally quiet and still, as if the woods itself is holding its breath.

To prance about during Samhain without the necessary rituals done is a suicide.

I take Quinn's freezing hand without a thought. "We need to move. There's much to do."

*page_break
I lead the way back to the fools who ruined Samhain. My step is determined, the sense of empowerment flows through me. I can do something about this problem, this is my job. "Do you have any sweets on you?"

"Bah! What kind of a question is that?" Quinn says and shows me a pouch filled with cookies.

"Good. We have something to give to the wandering spirits if we see any."

I almost stop walking as something rustles right next to us, but keep going. It's better to keep walking. The Dead won't chase you.

The Others would.

I look at Quinn, who also hastened ${q_his} steps after the sound. I ask the question that's urgently on top of both of our minds: "Do you think that the Others inhabit Roman lands? Would they really come here?"

Quinn takes a bite of ${q_his} cookie, and a part of me tries to stop ${q_him}. We should save those. Who knows how many spirits we'll face, since the rituals were botched. 

Quinn, with ${q_his} mouth filled with cookies, says: "The veil between our worlds works in mysterious ways. I don't think that the distances matter for them."

"So that means that…" That father could be here.

"That what?" Quinn asks, even though ${q_he} must be able to read my mind, or at the very least sense what I'm about to say. 

*fake_choice
    #"Father could be here."
        My hopeful words sink into the darkness, making me almost feel foolish. 
        
        Quinn purses ${q_his} lips and nods. "Perhaps."
        
        I fall silent. Quinn continues: "I hope he's here."
    #"Nothing."
        Quinn nods. $!{q_his} facial features don't give away anything, ${q_he} just continues walking.

*page_break
        
Quinn's face falls as the scene of all too familiar mayhem comes to view. $!{q_he} slows down, ${q_his} gaze darting from the fallen table to the scattered food and drinks.

Then, ${q_he} finally walks to the sizzled out embers. $!{q_he} just stands there, looking at the remnants of the bonfire. $!{q_he} utters: "Did they… pee on the bonfire?"

"I… yes." There's nothing else to say. There's only silence between us, it's coated with shock and trepidation.

*fake_choice
    #"Can you give me a hug?" This is too much to take without a hug.
        In an instant, Quinn has entwined ${q_his} arms around me. $!{q_he} rests ${q_his} head on me and sighs. "I thought the Romans were bad."
        
        I nod. "I was just thinking the same thing." I rest my head on ${q_his}. $!{q_his} soft hair tickles my cheek, ${q_his} sweet scent of lilacs linger on me, granting some comfort for my troubled mind.
        
        "No feeding them to the—?"
        
        "No."
        
        "But the pee."
        
        "I know. But we can fix this."
    #I take ${q_his} hand and squeeze it.
        I don't know what else to do. I need the warmth of ${q_his} hand to calm my nerves.
        
        But it's not warm. $!{q_his} hand is freezing. $!{q_he} gives me a squeeze and looks rests ${q_his} head on me. $!{q_he} sighs. "I thought the Romans were bad."
        
        I nod. "I was just thinking the same thing." 
        
        "No feeding them to the—?"
        
        "No."
        
        "But the pee."
        
        "I know. But we can fix this."
    #Remain still and silent. This is horrible.
        My flickering torch is the only thing illuminating the otherwise lightless camp. It fights against the forces of freezing air and darkness, but it's a battle it will lose.
        
        "We can fix this," I say, convincing neither of us.

Quinn lets out a small scoff, more tired than anything else. "How? They wasted all the candles. I made those damned candles. Do you know how much these cost—"

$!{q_he} stops talking and looks into the forest, ${q_his} eyes widened.

"What—"

$!{q_he} falls to the ground with a blood-chilling howl.
*page_break 

$!{q_he}'s crumpled on the ground, shrieking in a way I've never heard before. It's filled with pain and fear. The sound fills my mind with dread, ${q_his} face is distorted as ${q_his} eyes are aimed at the black sky.

Floyd's voice reaches me from beneath the shrieks: "What happened?"

*fake_choice
    #Focus on Quinn.
        $!{q_he}'s in trouble. Is it a seizure? I run to ${q_him} and take ${q_his} hand.
        
        It's so cold. The hand is freezing. 
        
        "Quinn!" I shout, trying to draw ${q_his} attention.
        
        $!{q_his} eyes roll back into ${q_his} head, leaving only the whites behind. $!{q_his} head falls back and he starts to shake uncontrollably.
        
        "No!" I take a hold of ${q_his} shoulders and try to keep ${q_him} in place. "Quinn, please!"
    #"I'm not sure. $!{q_he} collapsed." I'm keeping my cool.
        *set disciplined +1
        Floyd is here. Maybe he can help.
        
        He looks at Quinn with a concerned frown. "Do you think it's a seizure?"
        
        I shake my head. $!{q_he}'s never had those before. Just then, ${q_his} eyes roll back into ${q_his} head, leaving only the whites behind. $!{q_his} head falls back and he starts to shake uncontrollably. 
        
        "Quinn!" I hurry to ${q_his} side and take ${q_his} freezing hand into mine.
    #"We must help ${q_him}!" I'm starting to panic.
        *set disciplined -1
        Floyd takes a hold of my shoulder. "It's alright, we will help ${q_him}." He bends down to take a hold of Quinn. Just then, ${q_his} eyes roll back into ${q_his} head, leaving only the whites behind. $!{q_his} head falls back and he starts to shake uncontrollably.
        
        "Quinn, can you hear me?" Floyd says, trying to keep ${q_him} in place.
        
        "Quinn!" I hurry to ${q_his} side and take ${q_his} hand. The hand is so cold. It's freezing. "Quinn, please!"

Then, every sound in the world seems to die. I hear nothing.
*page_break What happened?
I try to turn to look at Floyd, but find that I can't see him. The smell of forest disappears, leaving nothing behind. I can't feel Quinn's hand in mine. 

What's happening? Is it the Others?

A freezing blow of air attacks my naked skin, trying to infiltrate my clothes. Warmth leaves my body, leaving only shivers behind. I exhale violently. 

Once the breath of air leaves me, I'm not sure if I will ever inhale again.

I open my mouth but can't. I can't breathe.

Magnificently powerful force surrounds me, its suffocating force crushing my chest as whispers of death fills my mind.

[i]die die die die[/i]

The whispers get louder and louder and there's only one thing I know:

It will kill me. Then, it will kill Quinn. 

[i]die die die[/i]

[i]DIE DIE[/i]

*page_break They will kill us.

Suddenly Quinn takes a tight hold of my arm. I focus my gaze onto ${q_his} features. I can see again. 

$!{q_his} gaze is hazy and unfocused, ${q_his} hair disheveled. Once ${q_his} eyes focus on me, they fill with terror. $!{q_he} says: "They are coming."

"Who?" I ask, just now remembering to breathe. I can breathe.

They are coming. I know that. Are they after Quinn?

"They can't find me." $!{q_he} takes a hold of ${q_his} head and groans. "A circle of protection."

*fake_choice
    #"Who is coming?" What is happening?
        I just want answers. Who is chasing ${q_him}?
        
        "Do it!"
        
        I've never heard such urgency from ${q_his} mouth. $!{q_his} horrified features make me clear my mind of any clutter and just give ${q_him} a nod. "I will."
    #"Why can't they find you?"
        Who would be looking for ${q_him}? 
        
        "You felt it. Do it."
        
        I've never heard such urgency from ${q_his} mouth. $!{q_his} horrified features make me clear my mind of any clutter and just give ${q_him} a nod. "I will."
    #"What is going on?!"
        "${name}." $!{q_he} grabs my tunic and tries to get up. $!{q_he} falls back to the ground with a loud moan. "Do it!"        
        
        I've never heard such urgency from ${q_his} mouth. $!{q_his} horrified features make me clear my mind of any clutter and just give ${q_him} a nod. "I will."
    #"I'm on it."
        I give ${q_him} a stern nod and start the preparations. This is no time to ask questions.

A circle of protection. I take a stabilizing breath, despite the coldness lurking beneath my clothes and distant whispers creeping into my ears. I need to do this. I don't dare to ask for the help of the Twins. I don't know if they would answer. 

There's another who could help. I've felt his presence during foraging trips. I've heard his whispers in the wind but I didn't answer. His presence is fading, he's not worshiped here.

Cernunnos. Did you ask for my help? Will you answer my call, even when I didn't answer yours?

*page_break Cernunnos. Help us.

Cernunnos, protector of the forest. God of the Green, give us your blessing. Mighty Horned One, Lord of the Forest, hear my call.

I focus on the image of his mighty antlers, of his wild, mossy hair.

"Cernunnos, circle me," I start mumbling and take a step to start circling Quinn. "Keep peace within, keep harm without."

Fear tries to creep into my heart. What is causing it? A part of me wants to see it. Another is screaming that it doesn't want to know.

I open my eyes, just a little. 

*page_break But there's no one here. 

Is it the Others? Why would they be after Quinn? The force I felt was too massive to be any ordinary Other.

A groaning shout brings my mind back to the spell: 

"Focus!" Quinn, still lying on the ground, looks at me with pleading eyes.

I bite my lip. Yes. I need to focus. The spell. It won't work if I do it without will.

The voice of my mother rings in my ears: 'Focus! You can't expect the spells to work if you don't focus!'

So, I continue circling around Quinn and muttering, this time with more confidence and determination. The habit of casting a spell starts to take over with every step I take. "Circle me, Cernunnos! Keep love within, keep hatred without."

*fake_choice
    #Love.
        *set confidence +1
        I focus on the feeling of love. Of being loved. The images of father, the twins, brother, every one of their faces makes me remember what it felt. I say the word 'love' with confidence.
    #Hatred. 
        Hatred empowers and gives you energy to act. Why would I want to live without it? There's no love in my life—
        
        'FOCUS!' Mother's shriek.

"Cernunnos, circle me! Keep hope within, keep doubt without."

*fake_choice
    #Doubt.
        Doubt creeps into my heart. The power that took over me was terrifyingly forceful. I've never felt anything like it before. How could I fight against it. Cernunnos won't answer and I have no means to fight against them without the help of the gods. I will—
        
        'FOCUS.'
        *page_break Focus. Focus. Focus.
    #Hope.
        *set confidence +1
        Hope. I take a tight grip of the word and focus on it. Hope. There is hope that Cernunnos answers. The words I say make hope blossom in my chest.
        
        There is hope. I say the word with confidence.
        *page_break Cernunnos, circle me.
            
"Cernunnos, circle me! Keep peace within, keep evil out."

I take another step. Another breath.

A benevolent force starts to take form beside me, its aura curious and intrigued by the sudden change of events in this Romanized forest. Cernunnos.

"Cernunnos, circle me! Keep protection near, and danger afar." 

Please. Cernunnos.

The wind grows stronger, its strength almost making me fall over. The torch in my hand falls on the ground, dying from the impact. However, I don't fall with it: there's an unseen force holding me in place. 

So I keep walking. The circle cannot be broken before the spell is cast.

"Cernunnos, circle me! Keep joy within, keep fear out."

Fear… 

"Cernunnos! Circle me! Keep light within, keep darkness out!" My voice is stronger and stronger, battling against the hostile forces trying to stop me.

*fake_choice
    #Darkness.
        I peek around me just for a moment, just to see that complete darkness is encircling us. It takes everything and more to keep my focus on the prayer. Darkness tries to reach for my soul, it wants to suffocate me.
        
        Cernunnos. Give me strength.
        
        *page_break Cernunnos, please...
    #Light.
        *set confidence +1
        I envision light leaving my body with every word, every breath. I am the light in the darkness. The darkness cannot win over me. 
        
        FOR I AM THE LIGHT!
        *page_break
        I stop walking, my voice still ringing in my own ears.
        
        A sense of calmness takes over me. I inhale the fresh autumn air, feeling it needle my lungs.
    
Then, I notice that there's someone holding my hand. It's not Quinn, ${q_he}'s lying still in front of me. I turn around to see…

Tinsae?
*page_break

A part of my brain is puzzled to see Tinsae standing next to me, her face a vision of serenity as she mutters a prayer of her own to strengthen mine. The lantern in her hand illuminates the circle, giving it strength with its light. The power that leaves her is immense, making my burdens feel lighter. I quickly regain my composure.

This is not the time to wonder.
        
I turn my gaze back to Quinn, now sure that ${q_he}'s protected by both Cernunnos and whatever force Tinsae begged for protection. I say, with confidence: "May you stand in the circle with us, today and always."
    
The wind dies down.

As the silence continues for a heartbeat or two, Tinsae turns to look at me with an uneasy smile. She's unusually hesitant as she says: "I wanted to help you. I'm sorry if I overstepped any boundaries. I—"
    
"What did you do?" I ask, still puzzled over her appearance.
    
"I saw you and—"
    
Quinn's unusually high-pitched voice halts her words, ${q_his} gaze filled with fear and panic as ${q_he} looks at Tinsae: "Who are you?"
    
Tinsae looks at ${q_him} with confusion painting her features. "I apologize for intruding, I—"
    
"What is she doing here?" Quinn turns to me, not letting Tinsae finish her sentences, fear still tainting ${q_his} eyes. 

"Quinn, she helped me. She helped you."
    
"She shouldn't be here!"
    
*fake_choice
    #"Quinn, calm down. You're still confused about the whole ordeal."
        "Don't tell me what I—," ${q_he} says but suddenly stops, pursing ${q_his} lips together. "I am. I am still confused. I'm sorry."
    #"Tinsae, I'm sorry. $!{q_he}'s still confused about what happened."
        Quinn falls silent, ${q_his} breathing still unsteady. $!{q_he} nods, as if to confirm that ${q_he}'s indeed just confused.
        
        Tinsae lightly furrows her brows, seemingly just as confused about the whole thing. "That's completely understandable. That was indeed… something."
    #"Why shouldn't she be here?"
        Quinn purses ${q_his} lips and looks away. "I must still be confused. I'm sorry."
        
        What a weird reaction. I need to question ${q_him} later, but now…
    #Remain silent.
        Awkward silence lingers between us. Quinn's breathing is still unsteady. Tinsae looks like she's about to say something but decides against it. 

"What was that?" Floyd's voice yanks my attention to him. The puzzlement in his gaze makes me realize that he saw it all. He saw me performing a ritual. In front of him and Kegan. Kegan looks at me with his mouth hanging open.

"What happened?" Floyd asks again, this time looking at Quinn still lying on the ground. His gaze darts on Tinsae, then on Quinn, then back to me.

I can't answer that. I'm not sure what happened. I'm not sure who was after us, I'm not sure about anything. At least it's stopped, now.

*fake_choice
    #"I'm not sure." It's the truth.
        *set manipulative -1
        "You just… cast that spell for no reason?"
        
        "No. There was reason. I felt that I needed to do that to save Quinn."
        
        "I see." It's clear that he doesn't understand the situation. It's no wonder. I don't understand it, myself. With a frown he looks at the forest behind him. "I felt something cold and weird when you performed the spell. It was… weird."
        
        He can't feel the spirits the way I do, his connection to the Otherside is weaker. Tinsae did feel it.
        
        I take another look at Tinsae, whose features are decorated with a polite smile, yet her eyes are still filled with distress. She felt them and she helped me. How?
    #"I had to banish evil spirits."
        *set manipulative -2
        I think that's what happened. I'm almost certain that's what happened. However, those were no ordinary spirits.
        
        "Evil spirits? I did feel something cold and…" He halts his words, his brows creased. "Those were evil spirits?"
        
        "Yes. Most likely." 
        
        He can't feel the spirits the way I do, his connection to the Otherside is weaker. Tinsae did feel it.
        
        I take another look at Tinsae, whose features are decorated with a polite smile, yet her eyes are still filled with distress. She felt them and she helped me. How?
    #"It was a spell against seizures."
        *set manipulative +1
        "Seizures?" 
        
        "Yes. I was afraid that Quinn was having a seizure." It's not a complete lie. The spell is cast on the ill, too. I'm just sure that Quinn didn't suffer any seizure. I don't know what that was. I don't want to speculate about that with Floyd.
    #Let Tinsae come up with something.
        I don't know how to explain this. I wait for Tinsae to say something, anything. She looks at me, as if to confirm that I want her to handle it. She says:
        
        "It was a necessary ritual to help Hati's friend with ${q_his} seizure."
        
        "A seizure? It sure looked like that." Floyd nods, fully believing Tinsae's words. They are not a lie, not fully. That just wasn't any regular seizure.

Floyd asks: "Where did you learn that? And what dialect was that?"

"My…" There's a moment of hesitation. Is it enough to convince him otherwise? "…grandmother taught me. Our ancestors were druids before the Romans came. The language… it was… ancient Gaelic." It sounds like a compelling excuse. Right?

Floyd nods, there's not a trace of doubt in his eyes. Thank the Twins. "That was amazing. I've never seen the old spells performed so convincingly."

Of course it was convincing. That's my job. A weirds sense of pride tries to take over me. It's as if I can breathe again. Even if the encounter with the spirits was hostile, it left me feeling empowered.

Floyd shifts his gaze from Quinn to me. "It was as if… I wasn't looking at you. It was as if I was looking at something ancient and… holy." He looks at me and there's something in his eyes I haven't seen in his eyes before. It's the same kind of gaze the people in my village gave me after the rituals. Reverence.

*fake_choice
    #Look away. The reverence feels unearned and awkward.
        I don't know what is it that makes me 
    #Hold my chin up high. It feels good to be recognized this way, again. Give them a confident smile and a thank you.
        It's as if something was missing from my life. 
        
        "Thank you." I smile. It feels almost weird to smile again.
    #Ignore their gazes.
        I look away, not minding and not caring. 
    #I can't help it, my cheeks heat up by the attention.

Quinn's groan makes me remember ${q_his} turmoil. $!{q_he} tries to stand up. 

*fake_choice
    #Help ${q_him} up.
        I quickly help ${q_him} up. $!{q_his} eyes are on Tinsae. 
        
        "Quinn?" I ask. 
        
        $!{q_he} snaps ${q_his} attention to me. "Oh. Thank you."
    #Watch ${q_him} struggle to get up.
        *set quinn_trust -1
        When Tinsae sees that I'm making no effort to go and help ${q_him}, she starts making her way to Quinn. 
        
        Quinn yelps when she's approaching: "No! I will get up by myself."
        
        Tinsae stops on her tracks and gives me a puzzled look.

*fake_choice
    #"Hati? Tinsae?" Camilla's voice cuts through the tension.
        *set samhain_camilla true
        *goto samhain_camilla
    #"What is going on here?" Marcus's voice interrupts us.
        *set samhain_marcus true
        *goto samhain_marcus
    #There's something approaching us with incredible speed. I swear I can see red hair on its head.
        *set samhain_niall true
        *goto samhain_niall
    #Question Tinsae about what happened.
        *set samhain_tinsae true
        *goto samhain_tinsae
    #Ask the others to leave me and Quinn alone for a moment.
        *set samhain_quinn true
        *goto samhain_quinn

*label samhain_tinsae
Floyd and Kegan give us space to discuss.

"What happened?" I ask, even if perhaps she should be the one to ask us that.

Tinsae's gaze is still on Quinn, who by now is sitting on a pillow of moss, trying to appear like nothing happened. $!{q_he} avoids her eyes.

Tinsae purses her lips, as if trying to decipher Quinn's actions, and says: "I saw you performing the ritual. I knew something was wrong. I felt a terrifying power approaching."

"You felt it? What do you think it was?"

Her body visibly shudders before she shakes her head. "I'm not sure. I've never felt anything like that before." 

Me neither. It was… concerning.

Worry seeps from Tinsae's words as she says: "It has something to do with your friend, doesn't it? Is ${q_he} in trouble?"

*fake_choice
    #"No, I think it was a coincidence. It's Samhain and these things tend to happen." I don't think that at all but it's better to play this down, for now.
        *set manipulative +1
        "Is this a normal occurrence during your holiday?" She furrows her brows. 
        
        "I've heard stories. This is something that could happen from time to time." Lies leave me easy. I've never heard that the Others would attack anyone with such force. They could kill individuals in the darkness of the night, but to attack a group of people like this… With this level of force.
        
        No. This is not normal, at all.
        
        Tinsae's gaze lingers on the darkness of the forest. "What a terrifying thought."
    #"I'm not sure. I'm worried."
        *set manipulative -2
        The same worry she's showing me seeps from my own words. This is not normal for any Samhain I've ever had. She gives me an understanding nod.
    #Shrug and shake my head. I don't know.
        She purses her lips, again, clearly unsure how to react to this all. She's not the only one. 

She shakes her head as she looks at Quinn. "The most important thing is that your friend is safe."

Quinn, however, still refuses to look at Tinsae. $!{q_he} looks anywhere else but her. 

"However…" Tinsae's voice decreases in volume. She looks away. "I didn't know that you could do such rituals. I'm impressed." She returns her gaze to me. Her round, glimmering eyes are aimed only at me.

Oh. She's impressed.

*fake_choice
    #Her admiration feels weirdly good. Thank her.
        "I… Thank you."
        
        "Please, you've earned it." Her words ring true.
    #Look away with reddened cheeks. The attention is awkward.
        Smile seeps from her words as she says: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel embarrassed."
    #She should feel impressed. I give her a confident smile.
        The smile that I give her makes her look away.
        
"Are you a druid?" She asks.

"I…" Should I tell her the truth? 

*fake_choice
    #"I am."
        *set tinsae_druid_truth true
        She nods her head a couple of times, clearly excited about the news. "If you don't mind, I would love to hear all about your abilities." She takes a look around. "Once we're where no one bothers us."
        
        "You're aware that this is something to be quiet about?"
        
        "Yes. I've heard stories from Camilla about what happened in Britannia after Rome."
    #"No."
        "Oh." She nods, a little disappointed. "You could've fooled me."
        
        "I'm a good actor, I suppose."

Changing subject, I ask: "Why did you come here?"

"It was somewhat difficult. I did get lost a few times." She lets out a little embarrassed chuckle. "However, I had to come. I felt that you needed me."

"You did?" How does that work? "Didn't the spirits bother you?"

"No. The spirits tend to leave me alone."

So, spirits leave her alone and she felt that I needed her here to help me with the spell. Is she a priest, too? She didn't mention that.

She gives me a curt smile. "I can see that my answers only raised more questions. I've always been… How should I say it?" She gestures around her, the movement of her hands delicate. "Attuned to the spirit world."

"Attuned how?"

"I'm not sure how to explain it." 

She's leaving something out. The level in which she's operating seems to match that of a seasoned druid. Yet, she's no druid.

What is she?

"I see," I say, studying her features. She's usually more open than this, I think. Or is she? Why did Quinn fear her so?

I shake my head. There's the urgent matter of completing the rituals that the idiots ruined. "We need to hurry. There's much to do to keep the spirits happy."

She gives me an eager nod. "Yes, please. Just tell me what to do."

*page_break
Tinsae shows me a pack of candles she brought with her. Relief washes over me, the fools wasted all of the candles. They are not cheap, either.

She gives me a nod, clearly pleased. "What else should be done?"

"We need to prepare the spirits something to eat and drink. However…" I look around me, almost rubbing my face at the sight of the destroyed cups and plates. 

Tinsae gives me a quick nod. "I brought some wine with me." She takes a flask of wine from her pouch, as if she was waiting for this moment. "Do the spirits mind if the alcohol is wine? I didn't find any mead."

"It's fine. It's just to let them feel welcome."

She nods. "I see. This is good wine. I think they'll appreciate this." She sounds sure of herself. "So, I'll just pour this in the cup?" She holds the flask in her hands gracefully, but with a touch of enthusiasm, as she's waiting for my approval.

I nod. 

She smiles, taking care to pour the liquid without any splashes. When she's finished, she looks intently at the cup. Then, she looks around her, the smile soon dying from her lips. 

When nothing happens, she looks at me: "Did I do something wrong?"

*fake_choice
    #"Yes. It was meant to be poured in a different angle." I'm just teasing her.
        She looks at the cup, darkness spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. "Oh! I'm so sorry. I hope I didn't ruin everything. I will make this—"
        
        "Relax. I'm just teasing you." 
        
        She squints her eyes at me before snickering. "I should've known." She lets out a little sigh. "I'm not usually this easy, I just want everything to be right."
    #"They don't charge at the wine as soon as it hits the cup. It takes time."
        "Oh." She purses her lips, looking away. "But of course. I… I don't know what I expected." 
    #"You didn't."
        "Oh. I suppose it's too early to say. I just really want to make this right."
        
        "I'm sure the spirits appreciate it."
        
        She smiles and nods. "I hope so."
    #"Maybe they don't like wine, after all."
        "Oh." She looks at the cup with a slight frown invading her features. "I should have looked harder. I don't want to ruin anything."

        "I'm sure it's fine." I don't know how picky the spirits are but offering them good wine can't be worse than what the fools did here.
        
        She looks a little hesitant as she gives me a nod. "If you say so."

"Why is this so important to you?"
        
She gives me a little frown. "To think that those who died, probably wrongfully, wouldn't even feel welcome here. To dishonor them in such a way…" She shakes her head. "The men in your contubernium didn't think things through."
        
"No. They certainly did not."

"Well, what's done is done. I suppose we should gather some firewood next?"
*page_break

Just as we're collecting the necessary wood, damp as they are, Quinn appears next to me. 

"Quinn! Where did you go? Why—"

$!{q_he} hushes me down and looks at the direction where Tinsae is. Floyd is accompanying her. He insisted. No lady should walk alone in the woods during these concerning times, he said.

"What's with you and Tinsae?" I ask directly.

"Nothing." $!{q_he} spits the answer out too quickly for it to be true. "I should ask you the same thing. Why is she here?"

*fake_choice
    #"She said she sensed something was wrong and she should help."
        "She 'sensed' it? That doesn't sound ominous at all."
        
        "Well, not as ominous as someone invading my head and whispering in my ears."
        
        "Pff. I see how this is. I did this one thing and now my word is not to be trusted."
        
        *fake_choice
            #"I trust you. I just don't understand why you don't like her."
                "You do?"
                
                "Don't sound so surprised by it. Shouldn't I trust you?"
                
                "Ah! Of course you should! I just…" $!{q_he} shakes ${q_his} head. "Thank you. However…"
            #Of course I don't trust ${q_him}. I remain silent.
                $!{q_he} looks at me, hurt lingering behind ${q_his} gaze. "I still think that you should listen to me in this. She shouldn't be here."
            #I don't know what to believe. I remain silent.
                $!{q_he} looks at me, hurt lingering behind ${q_his} gaze. "I still think that you should listen to me in this. She shouldn't be here."
    #"I don't know. Why do you care so much?"
        "How could I not?"
    #Shrug.
        $!{q_he} waits for me to say something else, but when I don't, ${q_he} sighs.
        
"I don't like this at all," $!{q_he} repeats.

I look at the direction where Tinsae and Floyd are, her pleasant voice dancing around them, seemingly driving away any hostile forces that the black forest hides within.

*fake_choice
    #"Don't worry, I'm just pretending that we're close to get closer to the Legate." I'm telling the truth.
        It's true. I've never had any interest in Tinsae other than to use her to get into the Legate's inner circle. It pays to have friends in high places.
        
        $!{q_he} nods, ${q_his} face tainted with a frown. "Couldn't you use that wife of his for that?"
        
        "Why would Camilla be any better?"
        
        $!{q_he} bites ${q_his} lip. "Look… I don't expect you to trust me on this. But could you please tell me that you're going to be careful around her. Can you do that?"
    #"Don't worry, I'm just pretending that we're close to get closer to the Legate." I'm not sure if that's true.
        Perhaps that's was the reasoning I initially had when I started to talk to her, but… I don't know anymore.
    #"She helped you. You should be more grateful."
        "I should be…" $!{q_he} bites ${q_his} lip and nods. "You're right, of course." 
        
        "Why don't you like her?" 
        
        "It's not about liking. I just sensed something about her."
        
        Sensed? Is it about the blessing? "What do you mean—"
        
        "Look. I don't expect you to take my word for it, I just want you to be careful around her. Can you do that?" $!{q_he} looks awfully serious about this. It's unlike ${q_him}.
       
        "I suppose so, yes."
    #"Why don't you like her?"
        "It's not about liking. I just sensed something about her."
        
        Sensed? Is it about the blessing? "What do you mean—"
        
        "Look. I don't expect you to take my word for it, I just want you to be careful around her. Can you do that?" $!{q_he} looks awfully serious about this. It's unlike ${q_him}.
        
        "I suppose so, yes."
        
With a frown on my face I look after Quinn. 
        
"Hati?" Tinsae's voice makes me jump a little. She gives me a questioning smile.

*page_break
Once everything is in order, we end up looking at the bonfire. Its flames make shadows dance around the tree trunks. Warmth spreads all the way to my limbs, making me just now realize how cold I was.

There's a smile dancing within Tinsae's words when she says: "Is there anything else that needs to be done?"

"Well… there is something."

She turns to look at me, her eyes filled with excitement. "Please, tell me."

I take a couple of hazel nuts from my pocket. I collected them before, knowing that they'd prove to be important "We're supposed to put our initials on a nut, then toss it into the fire."

"I see. How peculiar." She smiles as she looks at the nut in her hand. "Then what?"

"It pops. Then, umm…"

She nods, urging me to continue.

I'm not sure if I should tell her. After they're tossed into the fire, we'd see if our nuts land side by side. It would mean that we're going to be romantically paired. Now that I think about it, I don't know why I suggested this game. Perhaps out of a habit? It's what's supposed to be played around the bonfire.

Tinsae listens before nodding. "I see! How lovely. I hope our nuts will meet."
        
"You… do?"
        
"Of course! That'd be splendid!"
        
*fake_choice
    #Blush. Why does she sound so excited about it?
        Her gaze lingers on my cheeks before giving me a knowing smile. It's a more wicked one than I expected to see on her face. 
                
        "You would like it, too?" She asks.
                
        *fake_choice
            #"No." I quickly shake my head.
                "Oh. I see. I misunderstood." She gives me another knowing smile and, thankfully, lets go of the subject.
            #"Perhaps," I manage to utter out loud.
                "Hmmm. Why?"
                        
                "I… just would."
                        
                "I see." She gives me another knowing smile and, thankfully, lets go of the subject.
            #"I'd like that, too."
                "You would?" She gives me a small, knowing smile.
            #"I, too, hope that our nuts will meet." I mimic her words to tease her.
                She lets out a laugh. "That does sound like a weird thing to say."
*page_break
[i]POP![/i]

Tinsae's nut lands on the ground. She claps her hands and lets out a little giggle.

"Wondrous! Now, it's your turn."

[i]POP![/i]

The nut lands right next to Tinsae's. She chirps in joy and takes a closer look at the nuts, as if to make sure that they are, indeed, quite close to each other. 

"Oh! Does this mean that the gods think we should be together?"

*fake_choice
    #"No." I'm lying. This does mean something, I just... don't want to talk about it.
        "No?" She pouts in disappointment. 
        
        "No," I repeat.
        
        She sighs. "I see. The nuts need to be even closer to each other to count?"
        
        "Yes."
        
        "Too bad." She looks at the nuts.
        
        "Too bad, indeed."
    #"Who knows?"
        She gives me a conspiratory smile. "Indeed. The ways of the gods are mysterious."
    #Remain silent.

*goto samhain_bonfire

*label samhain_marcus
"Why are you here?" Why is he everywhere? Grinning like an idiot. 

*fake_choice
    #"Why didn't any of the spirits eat you on your way here?"
        "Bah! Why would you want me to be eaten? I'm hurt."
        
        "I don't care. Now, answer my question."
        
        He shrugs. "Someone moaned after me but I told them to shut up."
    #"Didn't you meet any spirits on your way here?"
        "Spirits? Someone did moan after me but I told them to shut up."

"You told a spirit to shut up?"

"How should I know who is moaning in the middle of the dark forest? I assumed it was a drunken bandit."

Before I can answer, I realize that Quinn is standing next to me, fuming with rage. $!{q_he} slits ${q_his} eyes at Marcus. "What is that idiot doing here?"

Marcus looks at Quinn, his eyes losing what little warmth there was. "I was watching the ritual, hoping you'd die. I almost stopped the whole thing just so you'd perish. You little shit."

Quinn opens ${q_his} mouth to speak.

*fake_choice
    #"Play nice. Both of you."
        "Nice?" They both spit out the word as if poison.
        
        "This is not time to argue. Quinn, you're barely standing."
        
        "If I can breathe, I can cuss that—"
        
        I ignore ${q_his} puffing and turn to Marcus. "And you, why are you even here?"
    #"Lord Centurion, shut up."
        "Shut up?"
        
        I ignore him and turn to Quinn. "You shouldn't get so worked up. You're barely standing."
        
        Quinn narrows ${q_his} eyes at Marcus before turning to me. "Fine. Tell that idiot to leave."
        
        I turn to the said idiot. "Why are you even here? To insult me?"
    #"Quinn. Not now."
        $!{q_he} opens ${q_his} mouth, but quickly closes it. $!{q_he} shakes ${q_his} head. $!{q_he} looks hurt and disappointed.
        
        I didn't mean to take Marcus's side on this. I [i]didn't[/i] take his side. This is just not the time for death threats. I turn to Marcus, who looks annoyingly pleased with himself.
        
        A sigh escapes me as I say: "Why are you here?"
    #"That is a good question. Why are you here?"

"Now now. I come in peace. Only minimal amount of insults will be in store for you today."

Quinn rolls ${q_his} eyes and leaves, evidently stopping ${q_him}self from jumping at Marcus's throat.

"Then, why?"

"I was intrigued. I've never seen a proper Samhain. I know you have a knack for these sorts of things."

"A knack?"

"Yes. I thought it'd be entertaining." He lowers his voice, so no one can hear us. "Druids can be terrifying. And impressive."

*fake_choice
    #"Was I? Terrifying?" There's playfulness in my voice, which I hate to hear. No. No no take it back.
        I quickly try to take my words back: "I mean, no—"
        
        The corner of his mouth rises. "Why, yes. You were. You were properly terrifying." The tip of his tongue quickly licks his lips when he says: "I would not want to meet you in the battlefield."
        
        *fake_choice
            #"I'd kill you."
                "You could and I'm sure you would." He smiles. "Tell me…" He takes a step closer to me. "How would yo do it?"
                
                Hm. I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it, but I didn't expect him to straight up just ask.
                
                "I'd…"
                
                *fake_choice
                    #"Behead you." Like you did to my father. I'd make it quick, even if you don't deserve it.
                        "Ah. A true classic. You don't think I'd deserve a slower death?"
                        
                        "It's not about deserving. I wouldn't waste my time on you."
                        
                        "Ouch. I see." It looks like he's pleased with my answer.
                    #"I would gut you and watch you bleed out."
                        "Ah. How brutal. Didn't think you had it in you."
                        
                        "Yes you did."
                
                        "Yes. I did." He smirks.
                    #"I would gut you and leave you to die."
                        "Your soft heart would show. You wouldn't watch?"
                
                        "No. I wouldn't waste my time on you."
                
                        "Ouch. I see."
            #Remain silent.
                He waits for me to say something. When I decide against it, he shrugs.
    #"It's a good thing you came. I want you to remember that I could kill you."
        "You could and I'm sure you would." He smiles. "Tell me…" He takes a step closer to me. "How would yo do it?"
        
        Hm. I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it, but I didn't expect him to straight up just ask.
        
        "I'd…"
        
        *fake_choice
            #"Behead you." Like you did to my father. I'd make it quick, even if you don't deserve it.
                "Ah. A true classic. You don't think I'd deserve a slower death?"
                
                "It's not about deserving. I wouldn't waste my time on you."
                        
                "Ouch. I see."
            #"I'd put a curse of illness on you." And I'd watch you suffer from it. You would die a slow death, not in a blaze of glory in a battlefield, like you'd probably prefer.
                "You would watch me wither away?"
                
                "Yes."
                
                "I see."
            #"I would gut you and watch you bleed out."
                "Ah. How brutal. Didn't think you had it in you."
                
                "Yes you did."
                
                "Yes. I did." He smirks.
            #"I would gut you and leave you to die."
                "Your soft heart would show. You wouldn't watch?"
                
                "No. I wouldn't waste my time on you."
                
                "Ouch. I see."
                
        For my disappointment, it looks like he's pleased with my answer.
    #Heat threatens to take over my cheeks. No! I'm not happy to hear that that idiot thinks I'm impressive.
        He grins. "Are you blushing?"
        
        "No. I'm not. I think you're an idiot."
        
        "That goes without saying. But I can definitely see some reddish hue starting gather to your cheeks. Let me see…" He takes a step towards me.
        
        *fake_choice
            #"No! Stay away!"
                My shout alerts Quinn. $!{q_he} runs back to us with ${q_his} teeth bared.
                
                "Stay away from ${xim}."
                
                Marcus raises his hands in mocking surrender. "Oops. You alerted your guard dog."
                
                "I'll take a bite of your leg, you asshole."
                
                "No, thank you." He aims his words at me. "Really, for such a civilized barbarian, you do keep a barbaric company."
                
                "Quinn, it's alright."
                
                $!{q_he} frowns. [i]Are you sure?[/i]
                
                I nod. 
                
                $!{q_he} purses ${q_his} lips, throwing one last dirty look at Marcus. Then, ${q_he} leaves.
            #"I will kick you in the shin if you come any closer."
                "I wouldn't want that, of course." He retreats with a crooked smile.
            #"If you come any closer, I will bite your head off."
                He halts his steps. "How would that even be possible?"
                
                "You want to try me?"
                
                "No, no. I'll believe that you're capable of that."
            #I'm frozen still. I don't know what to do. Do I want to flee his touch? Of course I do!
                Why wouldn't I want to flee? Why wouldn't I want to stay still and wait for him to touch my cheek?
                
                No, I mean, why [i]would[/i] I!
                
                "Oh," he says.
                
                "What?"
                
                "Don't tell me you want me to touch you."
                
                Heat rushes to my whole body. "WHAT! NO."
                
                He starts to chuckle. "That's adorable."
                
                I just want to crawl into a hole and die.
                
                "Please don't look like that. I'll stop. I'm afraid you might die on the spot."
                
                I almost thank him. Almost.
    #"So, you just came to gawk at me like I was a showpiece in your own personal spectacle?"
        "What? No, of course not." Then, he thinks for a moment. "Well… Now that you put it that way…"
        
        I scoff at him.
        
        "Hey now, I've never seen any rituals before. The druids I've met tend to be on the more hostile side."
        
        "I am a hostile druid. At least when it comes to you."
        
        "Ah, yes. But you're still more willing to speak to me than your angry colleagues."
        
        I shake my head. I wish it wasn't so.
    #Remain silent. 
        I don't give him his wanted reaction. Instead, I stay silent.
        
        He waits for a moment before giving me a frown. "Nothing?"
        
        I shake my head.
        
        "Always such a cold and emotionless audience, you are. Well, no matter." He shrugs. "I can always picture that your silence means that you agree with me."
*page_break
"Speaking of terrifying druids… Could you put a curse on me?" He stretches his arms, as if what he's asking is totally normal.

"What? You want me to put a curse on you?" What is his game this time?

"Hm. That would be interesting. I'd love to see if it works."

"[i]If[/i] it works? You doubt me?"

"No. Not necessarily. Color me intrigued."

*fake_choice
    #"No. I won't." It doesn't feel right. Even if he'd deserve it.
        "No?" He sounds disappointed.
        
        I shake my head. 
        
        "Your heart is too pure for cursing others? Even if it's me?"
        
        Still I shake my head.
        
        He squints his eyes at me. Then, he sighs. "Fine. No cursing."
    #"I will put a curse of balding on you."
        *set marcus_bald true
        "What? I don't want that." His hands wander to his hair. 
        
        He seems to like his hair. Good.
        
        "You seem to misunderstand how curses work. You don't get to choose what you'll get."
        
        He pouts. "But… Fine. Do the curse of balding, then."
        
        "I will. Let me know when there's a chunk of hair stuck in your comb."
        
        He doesn't look thrilled about the prospect, yet he nods. "Fine. I asked for this."
        
        "Indeed."
    #"I won't put any curse on you if you ask me to." That sounds too weird. Like I'm playing into his hands.
        "Just because I'm asking to?"
        
        "This sounds too weird."
        
        "Like it's my kink or something?"
        
        *fake_choice
            #"Is it?"
                "Hm. Depends on the curse."
                
                "Ugh. I'm not cursing you."
                
                "Are you sure?"
                
                "No."
                
                "You're not su—"
                
                "I am not cursing you!"
                
                He pouts.
            #"Please don't start talking about kinks."
                "It's partly your fault, you know. Asking me like that."
                
                I shake my head. A classic bully, blaming his dirty actions on the victim.
                
                He sighs. "Fine. No kink-talk. Just because you look like a little puppy and I'd feel bad about bullying puppies."
                
                "That's where you draw the line? On bullying puppies?"
                
                "I'm a good guy at heart."
                
                I stifle the urge to roll my eyes.
            #Ignore him.
                When he starts talking about his kinks, it's better to just ignore him.
                
                He waits for me to say something, anything.
        
        He sighs. "Fine. No curses." He mumbles under his breath: "A spoil-sport."
 
*page_break

Marcus looks at Pec who's still unconscious on the ground. Brick kicks his shin, trying to wake him up. 

Marcus turns to me. "This is pretty much exactly how I imagined Samhain."

"These fools do not represent Samhain's traditions. They ruined everything."

Brick raises his drunken gaze at me. He squints his eyes.

*if brick_friend
    Then, he looks away, muttering something under his breath.
    
    "What?" I ask, half expecting him to insult me.
    
    He turns to me with a frown. "I said 'sorry about that'."
    
    Oh. Well… at least someone apologized.
    
*if not(brick_friend)
    Then, as if he was about to say something, he looks away.

Marcus shakes his head. "I'm not surprised. I am surprised, however, that Floyd didn't stop them." He glances at Floyd, who, as if waiting to be called, hurries to us.

"Lord Centurion? What are you doing here?"

"I came to tell you that you did a shit job at completing the Samhain rituals."

"Oh." He flushes bright red. "I'm terribly sorry, Lord Centurion, I apologized to Hati and I will do everything I can to—"

"And now I'm here to help make things right." He shuts down Floyd's embarrassed stammer. "Where should we begin?"

*page_break
Tinsae approaches me with a bag of candles in her hand. "Will you manage with these?"

"Yes, thank you." The fools burned out all the candles, this will do.

"It's my pleasure." She smiles. She looks at the direction where Marcus went. He started gathering wood with no complaints. He's collecting them like a seasoned soldier, which shouldn't surprise me.

I suppose he is one.

She gives me a little sideglance, worry seeping from her words as she asks: "Are you fine with him being here?"

"Hm?"

"I noticed that you're quite… tense, when he's around." 

*fake_choice
    #"He's helping out. It's alright."
        "Ah. He is quite enthusiastic to help you. It's unlike him."
        
        "It is?"
        
        She gives me a little smile. "He's usually more self-serving."
        
        Hm.
    #"He's an idiot but I can manage."
        She lets out a little laugh. "I suppose he is an idiot." Her tense shoulders relax. "A helpful idiot. It's unlike him."
        
        "It is?"
        
        She gives me a little smile. "He's usually more self-serving."
        
        Hm.
    #Shrug. "I'll manage."
        "But of course you will. He knows he shouldn't mess with you."
        
        "Hm?"
        
        "He knows. He wouldn't be that compliant with others."
        
*fake_choice
    #"Do you know each other well?"
        "I would call him a friend. Please don't tell him that I told you, but he doesn't have many." She gives me a conspiratory smile. 
        
        "He doesn't have friends? I'm not surprised."
        
        She chuckles. "Indeed."
    #Remain silent.

She starts gathering her things and leaving. "If you don't mind, I would like to return home. Lord Floyd told me that he'd be happy to escort me back."

"Oh. Sure."

With these words and a last smile aimed at my direction, she disappears into the dark forest with Floyd and her lantern.
*page_break
Marcus proves to be an effective wood gatherer, the bonfire is almost built in no time.

Once he's is gone for the last round, Quinn appears next to me. $!{q_he}'s holding a candle in ${q_his} hands as ${q_he} looks at Marcus. 

"Why is that thing still here?" $!{q_he} asks.

"He's helping out." I don't know why, but that's what he's doing.

"Why?" $!{q_he} turns to me. "Why?" $!{q_he} repeats the question, visibly confused by the whole situation. I can't exactly blame ${q_him}. "Why are you letting him be here?"

*fake_choice
    #"He's useful. He's helping out."
        "That's it?" Quinn raises ${q_his} brow at me. "I could be collecting more wood, if that's the reason why his idiotic face is still here."
        
        I shrug. "Things will be done faster this way."
        
        "I…" 
        
        It's difficult to know if ${q_he} believes me. I'm not sure if I believe my own words either. He is useful, sure. But it's true that both Quinn and I could make the bonfire by ourselves. We wouldn't need his help.
        
        Yet, there he is. Helping.
    #"I need to let him think that we're close." I reassure ${q_him}. I'm serious. This is all part of the plan.
        $!{q_he} shakes ${q_his} head as ${q_he} looks at the direction where Marcus is. 
        
        "It's just… I don't know how you put up with that idiot. I know we're supposed to play the slow game but he's… I want to kill him every time he opens his mouth."
        
        "That makes the two of us."
        
        "I commend you on your patience." $!{q_he} sighs.
    #"I need to let him think that we're close." There's not as much force behind my words as I expected there to be.
        $!{q_he} peers into my soul, it seems. I shift uncomfortably, I can't help it. I'm supposed to sound more confident about this than I am.
        
        Why is my heart protesting when I think about manipulating him and killing him?
        
        Ugh. It's because of everything that's happened. Who wouldn't be tired and confused? 
        
        All this time Quinn has been watching me. $!{q_his} eyes are peered on my face, reading me. 
        
        Finally, ${q_he} says: "I see."
    #"I'm not sure..." I have no idea why I let him be here.
        I don't know why he pops up everywhere. More importantly, I don't know why I put up with him.
        
        Ugh. It's because of everything that's happened. Who wouldn't be tired and confused? 
        
        "Should I remind you?"
        
        Of what he did? "No need."
        
        "Good. Right?" $!{q_his} eyes seem to be peering into my soul. 
        
        I quickly nod. "Right."
    #I don't have an answer.
        I shake my head. I don't know why I'm letting him be here.
        
        Ugh. It's because of everything that's happened. Who wouldn't be tired and confused? 
        
        "Should I remind you?"
        
        Of what he did? "No need."
        
        "Good. Right?" $!{q_his} eyes seem to be peering into my soul. 
        
        I quickly nod. "Right."

Soon enough, Marcus returns with an armful of wood. I don't need to turn to Quinn to know that ${q_he}'s disappeared.
*page_break
Finally, the bonfire is lit. It's as if a huge load of my chest is lifted once my freezing fingers start to regain their warmth. The spirits will feel more welcome now. The smell of smoke makes me close my eyes, drawing my mind back to all the previous Samhains that were properly done.

"Want to play the nut game?" Marcus's voice makes me look at him. He gives me a grin. 

The nut game? The same game where is determined with whom people end up romantically with? "How would you know about that?" And why would he want to play that?

"Of course I know about every little dirty game there is."

"It's not dirty." I quickly retort. "It's about love and companionship."

"Well, excuse me. I know every little game about 'love and companionship' there is."

*fake_choice
    #"You wouldn't know anything about romance. Who would ever want to love you?"
        That person would have to be out of their mind. Absolutely insane.
        
        "Excuse me! I know a lot about romance. I just choose not to do anything with that information." Then, he frowns. "Who [i]wouldn't[/i] want me?"
        
        I scoff. "Everyone with a working brain."
        
        "Does your brain work?"
        
        "Unfortunately for you, yes."
        
        "Ah, that's too bad."
    #"Why?" I squint my eyes. This is another ruse of his.
        "Perhaps I'm desperate for love and affection. My tough, and quite handsome, exterior might fool you, but deep down, I need love just like any other man. Maybe even more than the others. Maybe the years of pushing affectionate admirers away have left me feeling cold and alone."
        
        "Oh, please."
        
        "Oh, please yourself. I'm being serious, my heart is open, yet you trample on it like you don't care."
        
        "That's true. I don't care."
        
        He grabs his tunic over his heart. "Let's just throw the nuts, this is starting to hurt too much."
    #Remain silent.
        "No witty comeback?"
        
        "No. Let's just throw the nuts."
        
        "Oh, so you'll comply to my wishes and play with me?"
        
        I give him a shrug. "It's a tradition."

*page_break
Marcus throws his nut into the fire.

[i]POP[/i]

It flies in an arch and lands on the ground. 

Marcus looks at me and nods. "Well?"

With a little more force than is needed, I throw mine into the fire, a part of me hoping I could throw the nut into his eye. 

[i]POP[/i]

We watch it landing straight next to Marcus's. No. No no no.

That stupid ass will—

I turn to look at him, knowing fully well that I shouldn't. Knowing fully well what I'd see:

He's grinning like an idiot.

*page_break
"Well well well. Even the gods want us to be together."

"There's a mistake. No god would want that."

He points at the nuts. "Someone does."

*fake_choice
    #"This means nothing."
        "Your rituals mean nothing? What blasphemy."
        
        "Well, the others mean something. This means nothing."
        
        "Why would you even want to play, then?"
        
        "Because it's a tradition." Honestly, I don't know why I chose to play this stupid game. "Let's just drop this."
    #"What a demented god would want anyone to be with you?"
        "What blasphemy! What if it's your own god and you're mocking them so."
        
        "My gods would never." They wouldn't. The Twins got nothing to do with this.
    #"No."
        "But what about the will of the g—"
        
        "No."
        
"Whatever you say, my dear future spouse." Then, he adds: "The way the corner of your eye twitches, it's almost soothing in its familiarity."

I shake my head and look at the fire.

"Umm, am I interrupting?" Floyd's voice reaches us, making me sigh in relief. Thank the Twins.
*goto samhain_bonfire

*label samhain_camilla

She looks like she's been standing there for a while, now. She's not wearing her wig and she's slipped into a more comfortable dress since last time I saw her. Her gaze shifts between me and Tinsae, the lantern in her hand illuminating her slightly puzzled features.  

Tinsae smiles, yet it's a confused smile. "Cam! What are you doing here?" 

"I followed you." She frowns. "Why are you here?" She looks at me, her eyes lightly squinted. "With him?"

"It wasn't exactly planned," Tinsae says, looking uneasily at me. "I thought he needed me and I came."

"He needed…" She stops her sentence midway. "Alright." For once, she looks like she's lost for words.

*fake_choice
    #"What are you doing here?"
        "I came because I couldn't find Tinsae. I was told she's here." She looks at Tinsae with her lips pursed tight.
        
        Tinsae gives her a little reassuring smile. "You shouldn't have worried, I'm fine."
        
        "Why would you worry?" I ask, even if the answer should be clear. There are Dead and Others about. However, I doubt she meant that.
        
        "Tinsae gets easily lost."
        
        "Please, Cam. I don't." Tinsae looks away while letting out a little laugh.
        
        "Once I had to call the dogs to find you."
        
        "It was a pleasant forest walk. I had everything under control."
        
        "You were found across the river. The barbarians would've killed you."
        
        "They wouldn't have killed me. I know a little of their language. It would've worked out fine." She swats Camilla's worried words away before giving her a little smile. "I'm grateful that you came for me. Thank you."
        
        Camilla frowns.
        
        Still smiling, Tinsae says:
    #"You can turn right back where you came from."
        *set rude +1
        "Hey," Tinsae says, a little frown forming on her features.
        
        Camilla squints her eyes until they are just two slits. "You can drop dead, you imbecile."
        
        "Hey!" Tinsae says a little louder, this time moving in between us, to physically stop the fight. "That's enough of you two. You are adults."
        
        "He started it," Camilla scoffs and looks away.
        
        Tinsae sighs and almost rolls her eyes. She takes a deep breath and says:
    #"I'm glad you're here."
        She squints at me. "What? Why?"
        
        I shrug. "I just am."
        
        Tinsae nods and smiles. "I'm happy that you're here, too. Now we can all celebrate Samhain together."
        
        Camilla looks less thrilled about than us.
        
        Tinsae says:
    #Remain silent.
"Everything went well, in the end. We saved Hati's friend and I think that I can help around to finish the rituals. If you want to, Hati?"

"Oh. Sure."

"There's still much to be done," Tinsae says with an enthusiastic smile. She looks like she's enjoying herself. She does, however, give Camilla a worried look.

Does it have something to do with what was heard during the dinner? Something about Camilla's family?

She does look more distraught than usual. She fidgets the hem of her royal-blue cloak, fiddles her short, wigless hair in a way that's unlike her.

I give Tinsae a nod, making her features brighten once more.

For now, it's time to continue the rituals.

We are not safe just yet.

*page_break
I let them know what needs to be done. Tinsae listens to my every word, taking in all the information, her eyes intently on me. Camilla looks disinterested, even if she does nod in the right places. She's listening, too.

Quinn, however, has disappeared. $!{q_he}'s not far, but it seems weird that ${q_he}'d leave me to prepare the rituals on my own.

Tinsae nods briskly. "Excuse me, I will help Lord Floyd with the candles that I brought. Can you manage with the bonfire?" She starts to leave with Floyd, whose face is bright red, probably because he's being referred to as 'Lord' by a noblewoman.

Camilla gives Tinsae a nod before I can say anything. Even if Camilla looks sure of the fact that the bonfire doesn't need any extra hands to work on, I doubt she's going to help me with it. I give her a pointed look, the 'are you going to help me' kind, but she just scoffs and sits down on a log. 

I sigh. It was expected. The fire needs to be lit.

*page_break
It doesn't take long for me to gather enough wood. However, it's slightly damp, it won't catch fire on its own. Luckily I brought a couple of dry logs with me. 

It's as if I knew I couldn't trust anyone else with these things but myself.

I start working with my tinderbox. It's a tedious process, one I would've been able to skip if my torch didn't die on me. Just as I'm about to give up and ask for Tinsae's lantern, Camilla hands me her bronze lantern without saying a word.

*fake_choice
    #"Thank you."
        *set rude -1
        "You're welcome. Now hurry it up, I'm cold."
        
        I almost scoff. Of course she would help me just because she's cold.
    #Just take it. With a grunt.
        She grunts back at me, the sound more comical since it comes out of her lips. "Now hurry up. I'm cold."
    #Silently take it with a nod. 
        She nods back at me. "Hurry. I'm cold."
    #"Afraid of the dark?"
        She scoffs. "I wouldn't say anything of the sort if I were you. You've been looking at the dark forest like your life depended on it. I, however, am cold."
        
        "I haven't looked at the forest like my life depended on it." I frown. Perhaps I have. I'm not sure the Romans even know the dangers of these Samhain nights. I suspect some of them prance about the forest without a care in the world and get lured to their deaths by Others. It's easy to think that they just lost their way in the forest.
        
        Stupid Romans.

*page_break
Finally, the bonfire is lit. It melts my frozen limbs, making me close my eyes in content. The spirits should be pleased now.

"What is the meaning of this fire?" Camilla's voice startles me in my thoughts.

Ignoring her question, I ask: "How did you come here, anyway?" She doesn't have her bodyguards with her.

"I walked here," she says, as if I was the fool questioning her. "Now, answer my question." Her inquisitive gaze resides on the blazing fire. 

*fake_choice
    #"I'll answer if you ask nicely."
        She frowns. "Nicely?" 
        
        I nod and it only makes the frown grow deeper on her face. She purses her lips, as if trying her hardest to find a way to ask the question differently. 
        
        "Could you tell me what is the meaning of this fire?"
        *fake_choice
            #"I knew you could do it!"
                She squints her eyes. "Don't patronize me, boy, or I'll have your head."
                
                "You're always wanting my head. What would you do with it?"
                
                She stays silent for a while, as if in thought. Finally, she says: "I would use the skull as a breakfast bowl."
                
                *fake_choice
                    #That's disturbing.
                        She gives me a nod, as if to say 'don't ask if you don't want an answer'. 
                    #"Just for breakfast? Why not dinner?"
                        "I wouldn't want people to take me for a barbarian."
                
                        "Ah, I see. That makes sense."
                        
                        She nods.
                        
                        With a lingering smile I tell her about the meaning behind the bonfire:
            #Don't tease her, just tell her.
                
    #"It's part of the celebration."
        "What's its function?"
        
"It's to welcome the spirits who are visiting our realm."
        
She furrows her brows. "I see… So, you'd like them to visit?"
        
"Some, yes. The ancestors."
        
"Have you seen anyone yet?"
        
"No."
        
"So… " Her words are unusually hesitant. "Anyone recently dead could come here? Even the Romans?"

"Technically, yes. Not even that recent. Those who still would like to meet the living. Those who have not yet forgotten." 

She listens to my every word, her brows creased as she looks at the fire.

"As to whether they could be Romans… Sure. Dead know no nationality."

She nods, slowly, clearly deep in thought.
*page_break
I peer into the forest. It still holds the element of danger, even if it's diminished by the raging fire. "You didn't see anyone in the forest?"   

She shrugs. "I heard something. There was rustling and moaning and what not."

"Moaning? They were spirits." She was in danger, as suspected. "They didn't follow you?"

"No. I dared them to."

*fake_choice
    #Burst out laughing.
        She frowns at the sound of my laughter.
        
        I shake my head, still chuckling. "You threatened the spirits?"
        
        "I thought there were robbers following me. I said that they should attack me if they don't value their lives."
        
        "So, you would've just fought off the robbers?"
        
        "They wouldn't have dared to attack me, of course."
        
        "But if there would've been multiple—"
        
        "Do you doubt me?" She looks at me with her brow raised. And I find myself not doubting her at all. I'm sure any robbers and spirits would flee from the sight of her frowny face.
        
        "No."
        
        She nods, seemingly pleased with my answer. There's even a small smile forming on the corners of her lips. "Good."
    #"You dared the spirits to follow you?"
        "I thought there were robbers following me. I said that they should attack me if they don't value their lives."
        
        "So, you would've just fought off the robbers?"
        
        "They wouldn't have dared to attack me, of course."
        
        "But if there would've been multiple—"
        
        "Do you doubt me?" She looks at me with her brow raised. And I find myself not doubting her at all. I'm sure any robbers and spirits would flee from the sight of her frowny face.
        
        "No."
        
        She nods, seemingly pleased with my answer. There's even a small smile forming on the corners of her lips. "Good."
    #Nod and remain silent.
        Her threatening the spirits is the least weird thing that has happened tonight. 
        
*page_break
Now that the bonfire is lit, it's time to concentrate on the offerings.

"We need to offer the spirits some mead."

"Do you have any?" Camilla asks, peering at the empty cups on the ground.

"No, not exactly…" The idiots poured everything on the ground or drank it. 

Camilla looks at me before letting out a small sigh. "How are you this unprepared?"

"I didn't exactly expect them to ruin everything."

"You should always expect that people are fools." She takes a flask out of her pocket. "Take this."

I take the flask, inspecting its contents. It smells of honey and vinegar; it's spiced wine.

Camilla frowns. "If the spirits don't accept wine of this quality, they are fools and should feel unwelcome." 

*fake_choice
    #"Please don't insult the spirits."
        "I," she starts, but nods. "Fine. I apologize. However…" She cocks her head towards the flask. "It's good quality."
        
        "I suppose it will be fine."
        
        "Of course it will be. Why would they accept just mead?"
        
        "I'd rather not test their limits."
        
        "What are they going to do if they don't accept it? Flip the table and moan?"
        
        "I'm not sure… I've kept the spirits pleased before."
        
        "They will be pleased now, too." She nods, clearly confident in her words.
    #"I'm sure the wine is fine. Thank you."
        *set rude -1
        She nods, clearly sure of herself and her wine's quality. "It is more than fine. And you are quite welcome."
    #"The spirits are picky. They'd prefer mead." I'm teasing her.
        She squints her eyes. "You and your spirits can shove this flask up your—"
        
        "Now now, no need to shove flasks up anyone's arses. Thank you kindly, I'm sure this will do."
        
        She lets out an exasperated sigh. "You're not as funny as you think you are."
        
        "But a little funny?"
        
        "No. Not even a little."
    #"The spirits are picky. They'd prefer mead." I'm serious.
        "You… How do you claim to know what spirits want?"
        
        "I have it in good authority that they love mead. This is not mead."
        
        "No. It's not mead. What are you and your spirit friends going to do about it?"
        
        I purse my lips. "I guess this will have to do."
        
        "However will you survive." Sarcasm oozes from her words.
        
        "This is serious."
        
        She begins to say something, but bites her lip. Then, she says: "The honey sweetens the wine. It's as close to mead as wine can be."
        
        I take another sniff at the flask. She's right. This could work. I nod. "Thank you."
    #"I suppose this will do."
        "So?" She asks.
        
        "What?"
        
        "It's my wine and I gave it to you. You should be grateful and say thank you."
        
        "I'll thank you once the spirits deem it good."
        
        "The spirits… Fine." She scoffs.

*page_break
Once the wine is poured into the cups, Tinsae and Floyd return. The camp is now sufficiently illuminated with living fire and there's wine for the spirits. Even if it's not mead, I'm sure it will be fine.

Everything is in order. Or at least, everything is as good as it can get.

There's a smile dancing within Tinsae's words when she says: "Is there anything else that needs to be done?"

"Well… there is something."

She turns to look at me, her eyes filled with excitement. "Please, tell me!"

I take a couple of hazel nuts from my pocket. I collected them before, knowing that they'd prove to be important "We're supposed to put our initials on a nut, then toss it into the fire."

Tinsae nods with a serious look on her face as she inspects the nut. "I see. How peculiar." She raises her gaze at me, begging for more information: "Then what?"

"It pops. Then, umm…"

Tinsae nods. "Yes?"

"Well—"

Camilla cuts in: "Just tell what the nuts are for, we don't have all night."

Rude.

"Cam. Rude," Tinsae voices my thoughts. 

"Ugh," she sighs. "Fine. Let's spend the whole night looking at the nuts."

Tinsae shakes her head. "I'm sure the game isn't about looking at the nuts. Right, Hati? We will do more than just look at them?"

"Well, yes." How boring do they think that our traditional games are?
*page_break

I explain them that if the nuts land next to one another, the people whose initial they have will get married. Or get otherwise involved. 

Camilla looks at me as if I've lost my mind. "Why would you want to play a game like that? With us?"

"Tinsae said that she'd like to know of other traditions. This is one of them."

"That's just stupid."

"Cam, please," Tinsae says and I can almost imagine her rubbing her temples.

*page_break We throw the nuts into the fire.
[i]POP[/i]

[i]POP[/i]

[i]POP[/i]

All of the nuts land next to each other.

"Oh," Tinsae says and looks at the nuts, deep in thought. Then, she turns to us with a slightly wicked smile. "Don't tell me we're all going to get married. That is not unheard of, there are marriages like that in—"

Camilla's scoff interrupts Tinsae's musings. "I have one fool of a husband, I don't need more of them."

"Cam. Did you just call us fools?" There's a smile tugging at the corner of Tinsae's mouth, even if she tries to look serious. 

"Well, I didn't mean you, of course." She glances at me, making sure no one misses her intention of calling me a fool.

*fake_choice
    #"I would never marry either one of you."
        "Oh?" Both of them look at me with surprise painted on their faces.
        
        What? Did they expect me to be happy about the prospect? 
        
        Tinsae nods. "I wouldn't want to marry either, to be honest."
        
        Camilla cuts in: "He didn't have to sound so rude about it."
        
        I say: "You're one to talk."
        
        "Now now. This was a fun little game."
    #"The Legate must've been temporarily insane to agree marrying you."
        Camilla scoffs even louder. "You must've been an imbecile to—"
        
        Tinsae sighs. "Why did it turn out like this? I just wanted to enjoy the nut game."
        
        "He started it."
        
        "Cam, I love you, but Hati did not start it. He actually was quietly looking at the nuts before you called him a fool."
        
        Camilla squints her eyes. "I see."
        
        *fake_choice
            #"That means that you owe me an apology."
                "I will not—"
                
                Tinsae gives her a look.
                
                "Ugh." She puffs out air. "I'm sorry that you took offense over me implying that you're a fool."
                
                "What? That's not a proper apology."
                
                "That's all you're going to get, boy, now shut it and look at your nuts."
                
                Tinsae sighs, reminding me of an over-encumbered mother tending to her misbehaving children. Well, if there's anyone misbehaving, it's Camilla.
            #Remain silent and let Tinsae defend me.
                Tinsae continues: "I think you owe him an apology. You have called him names many times before. It's not nice and I doubt Hati will want to spend time with us any more if you keep doing that."
                
                "Who cares if—" 
                
                Tinsae gives her a reprimanding look and she purses her lips. "Perhaps I have…" She bites her lip and looks at me. "I'm sorry for calling you a fool."
                
                I wait for something more, some sort of snarky statement that would undermine the whole apology. However, there's nothing. She just looks at me. There's defiance in her stature but nothing more. 
                
                That managed to sound like a proper apology. 
                
                *fake_choice
                    #"Apology accepted."
                        Camilla nods and turns her gaze back at Tinsae, making sure I don't miss the fact that she apologized just because Tinsae asked her to. 
                        
                        Tinsae nods back. "Good."
                    #"I have felt bad about it..." I'm just teasing.
                        I give her a pout, my lip quivering a little. 
                        
                        Camilla sneers and looks at Tinsae. "Look at that, he's just mocking me."
                        
                        Tinsae sighs and rubs her temples. "Dear Isis give me strength…"
                    #"I have felt bad about it..." I have. She can be really mean.
                        Camilla purses her lips together even tightly. "Ugh. I'm… really sorry."
                        
                        Tinsae nods. "You can't just speak like that to others."
                        
                        "I… no. I can't."
                    #Nod.
                        Camilla nods and looks at Tinsae. 
                        
                        "Good," she says.
    #I'm still looking at the nuts. I'm confused.
        Tinsae looks at the nuts, as well. "What do you think is the gods' plan with this one?"
        
        "I'm not sure. This doesn't happen often."
        
        Then, Camilla kicks my nut away. It flies in an arch and lets out a little noise when it lands. "Now, problem solved."
        
        Tinsae frowns. "Cam! Rude!" It's as if she's talking to a misbehaving dog of hers.
        
        Camilla smirks, clearly content with herself. "What? It bothered him. I took care of the problem."
        
        That she did.
    #I'm still looking at the nuts, with my cheeks heating up. Oh no.
        Tinsae peers at me face and gives me a soft smile. "Do you think this actually means we're in for a threesome?"
        
        "What?! No!"
        
        She starts giggling. 
        
        Camilla looks at the both of us and sighs. "You are idiots, both of you."
        
        "Hati didn't even do anything."
        
        "He's an idiot for suggesting this game and making you think of unsavory things."
        
        Tinsae purses her lips. "I'm sorry, Hati. I didn't mean to make fun of this."
        
        I shake my head. 

"Let's just forget about the nuts," I say. Floyd is walking towards us.
*goto samhain_bonfire

*label samhain_niall
Something big and fast runs straight at me from the darkness. Just as I'm bracing myself for the impact, it halts its speed to a minimum and I can make sense of his face.

It's Niall. His face is blanched white.

"What happened? What are you doing here?" I ask, almost happy to see his oblivious face.

"I think I was chased by ghosts!"

"Oh."

"Oh? That is not the reaction I was waiting for." He rubs his sweaty face. "I knew it was a bad idea to come here. My torch died, I had no sweets on me. I was defenseless, a walking target."

"They wouldn't have killed you. They would've just lured you to the Otherside."

"Oh, wow, that's a relief, thank you so much for that information!" He's still visibly shaken by the ordeal.

"Well, unless they were the Others, they would've just killed you." 

He shakes his head. "Why are you…?" He sighs. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound mean. I just… I'm just… just let me catch my breath."

He huffs and puffs with his hands on his knees for a few more moments before Kegan comes to us.

"Did you see a ghost, too?" He asks.

Niall raises his gaze at the kid. "Yes. I mean, no. I didn't see them but they chased me. Something chased me!"

Kegan nods his head. "You're sure they weren't the Others?"

"Oh, dear gods, I don't know! Why do you keep talking about them? They chased me and I'm here. I don't care at all who they were."

*fake_choice
    #"They won't come here." Comfort them. Well, they almost certainly just did, but the circle of protection will keep them away. For now.
        They look uneasily at the darkness. And, as if in cue, a sorrowful wail echoes from the forest.
        
        Niall and Kegan shriek in unison.
        
        I try to reassure them: "I know it sounds bad but I'm sure the banshee is as scared of you as you are of her."
        
        "A banshee?!"
        
        "Shh. I wouldn't shout, even if there's no real danger. Or minimal danger."
        
        "Minimal…," Kegan whispers and looks at the direction where the wail came from.
    #"They could still follow you." Tease them.
        "They could?!" Both of them shout before covering their mouths. They look uneasily at the darkness. And, as if in cue, a sorrowful wail echoes from the forest.
        
        Niall and Kegan shriek in unison.
        
        I peer at the direction the wail came from. "That sounded like a banshee."
        
        Niall looks at me with widened eyes. "A banshee?!"
        
        "Shh. Don't shout. It will only lure them to us."
        
        Niall and Kegan's faces blanch even whiter than they were before. 
        
        Someone's voice cuts through the tension: "Are you bullying the boys?" I turn to Floyd, who looks only slightly amused by the commotion. He looks at Niall, his Tribune, before saying: "Oh. I didn't realize that it was you, Lord Tribune."
        
        Niall takes a few stabilizing breaths, as if to appear that nothing is wrong and he didn't just shriek like his life depended on it. He pats Kegan on his shoulder and says: "Right. Nothing to worry about, son."
        
        Kegan frowns. "You just—"
        
        "Alas!" Niall yelps, making Kegan jump. "What dangers lurk in the shadows, I do not know. It's a good thing they seem to be fearing the light."
    #Remain silent.
        The spirits won't pose a real problem in a group and I doubt there are any Others lurking about. I can't sense any.
        
        Kegan and Niall look uneasily at the darkness. And, as if in cue, a sorrowful wail echoes from the forest.
        
        They shriek in unison. Then, they turn to me, as if I should reassure them.
        *fake_choice
            #"It's just a banshee."
                Niall looks at me with widened eyes. "A banshee?!"
                
                "Shh. Don't shout. It will only lure them to us."
                
                Niall and Kegan's faces blanch even whiter than they were before. 
                
                Someone's voice cuts through the tension: "Are you bullying the boys?" I turn to Floyd, who looks only slightly amused by the commotion. He looks at Niall, his Tribune, before saying: "Oh. I didn't realize that it was you, Lord Tribune."
                
                Niall takes a few stabilizing breaths, as if to appear that nothing is wrong and he didn't just shriek like his life depended on it. He pats Kegan on his shoulder and says: "Right. Nothing to worry about, son."
                
                Kegan frowns. "You just—"
                
                "Alas!" Niall yelps, making Kegan jump. "What dangers lurk in the shadows, I do not know. It's a good thing they seem to be fearing the light."
            #"Stop acting like you've never been in a dark forest filled with roaming spirits."
                "Filled?! There are multiple spirits?"
                
                "It shouldn't come as a surprise. This is the time when the Veil between our world and theirs is thin."
                
                Niall bites his lip. "But I've never felt this many spirits before."
                
                "Ah, it's because these fools botched the Samhain traditions. It's one thing not to do them, it's entirely another to insult the spirits with wrong ones."
                
                Niall turns to look at Kegan with a judging look on his face. 
                
                Kegan raises his hands in defense: "It wasn't me! I tried to say that they shouldn't—"
                
                "What is happening here?" Floyd's voice cuts through the tension. Niall turns to him, his face filled with blame aimed at the approaching man.
                
                Floyd slows his pace down once he sees him. "Um. Lord Tribune? What are you doing here?"
                
                "I'm here to condemn you on your failure to deliver a proper Samhain," he says in a weirdly solemn tone.
                
                "Oh. I see." Floyd's face turns bright red. "I'm terribly sorry, Lord Tribune. I take full responsibility for everything that happened."
            #Shrug.
                They look at each other with disappointment clearly shown in their slouched postures. I'm not here to 

Niall nods. "What's to be done with this situation? How can I get home?" He aims that last question at me.

*fake_choice
    #"You'll get home when I'm ready with the rituals and not a moment before."
        "Oh. Alright then." He looks away, tapping his fingers on his trousers. "You seem a bit tense."
        
        "I'm not—"
        
        "You need help with the rituals, right? I'm here. To help you."
        
        "I— Fine." 
    #"You can get home right now, if you want to. No one is stopping you."
        "Just a bunch of Dead and Others littering the way, of course."
        
        "Do you [i]want[/i] me to die?"
        
        "Hm."
        
        He frowns.
        
        *fake_choice
            #"Of course I don't want you to die, it was a joke. You'll get home once the rituals are finished."
                He bites his lip, clearly not sure if I'm just pulling his leg. Then, he sighs.
                
                "Of course I could go right now, if I wanted to. But…" He takes a look around. "I think you need help?"
                
                Well, there are woods to gather and bonfires to light. So, I give him a nod.
            #Remain silent.
                He waits for me to say something, anything probably. But, when I give him nothing, he sighs. 
                
                "Of course I could go right now, if I wanted to. But…" He takes a look around. "I think you need help?"
                
                Well, there are woods to gather and bonfires to light. So, I give him a nod.
    #"I need to finish the rituals, first. It's dangerous to wander in the woods before that."
        "Ah. I see." He nods, peering into the darkness. A clear shudder runs through him. "I will help you."

"Ah! And Lady Tinsae! What are you doing here?"

"I came here to help with the festivities."

"Did you know that the festival would include the amount of spirits wailing that it does?"

"I had a hunch, yes."

"Yet you still chose to come?" He shudders.

Tinsae lets out a little laugh. "Indeed." She looks at Floyd. "Lord Floyd told me he could escort me home."

I raise my brow at Floyd. "Are you sure?"

He nods. "I will be back to help with rest of the rituals. I heard that Lady Tinsae is not… good with directions."

Tinsae lets out a little high-pitched laughter. "Ah, yes. Well, I do hope that Lord Floyd's absence isn't a bother."
*page_break

Once Tinsae leaves with Floyd, Niall realizes that Quinn is still looking worse for wear. "What's wrong with ${q_him}?" He asks.

*fake_choice
    #"$!{q_he} just had a bad seizure." It's not a total lie.
        "Oh, that's indeed bad. Did you give ${q_him} chamomile?"
        
        Quinn nods. "Uh-huh. I got so much chamomile." Sarcasm oozes from ${q_his} words.
        
        Niall looks pleased. "That's good!"
    #"Some evil spirits were after ${q_him}. I banished them."
        Niall's brows are raised when he turns to look at me. "You did what now?"
        
        "You just missed the ritual. I had to create a circle of protection."
        
        "You… alright. I see. How can you do that, exactly?"
        
        *fake_choice
            #"I'm a druid."
                *set niall_druid_truth true
                "You are a druid? The very druid the Romans killed when they invaded Britannia?"
                
                "I'm an undercover druid, yes."
                
                "I… see." He nods.
                
                Quinn looks at me with ${q_his} mouth hanging open. [i]What are you doing?[/i]
                
                I don't know what I expected but Niall's next words manage to surprise me: 
                
                "Well, that is fantastic news! You must have so much knowledge about rituals and the usage of different herbs!"
                
                *if herbalist
                    "I do, actually."
                    
                    "I'm actually something of a herbalist myself." He smiles.
                    
                *if not(herbalist)
                    "No, I prefer to—"
                    
                    "I'm actually something of a herbalist myself." He doesn't let me finish my sentence. He's looking quite enthusiastic about this.
                    
                He adds: "Could you teach me a ritual involving skincare?"
                
                *fake_choice
                    #"Sure. Why not?"
                        His features brighten up even more, if that is possible. 
                        
                        "That is the best news I've heard in a long time."
                    #"No. That's not what rituals are supposed to be used for."
                        "Oh. I understand." He nods. "One shouldn't just make a ritual out of everything. I see."
                        
            #"I just winged it."
                Relief washes over his face. "Oh. Alright."
    #Remain silent.

Quinn starts to leave. "I'll go gather some stuff." $!{q_he}'s gone before I can answer ${q_him}.

Niall looks after ${q_him}. "Is ${q_he} going to be alright?"

"I'm sure ${q_he}'s fine." There's a hint of hesitation buried deep within my words. 

It's time to continue the rituals.

*page_break
I sigh in relief when I notice that Tinsae left us the candles she brought with her before leaving. The fools used every candle meant to guide the spirits.

Now all that's left is to gather wood.

I peer at Niall's expensive-looking shoes, wondering if he can wade deep in the moss with those.

Niall beams when he notices the target of my gaze. "Are you looking at my shoes?"

"Yes."

"These are lion skin." He shows his shoes like they're his esteemed and award-winning pig.

*fake_choice
    #"I'm just wondering if you can gather woods in those."
        "Ah. Don't worry about it, I have more at home."
        
        "More expensive lion-skinned boots?"
        
        "Well, yes. I can't do with just one pair," he states as if it's a given.
    #"Aren't you worried you might sully your expensive shoes?"
        "Ah. Don't worry about it, I have more at home."
        
        "More expensive lion-skinned boots?"
        
        "Well, yes. I can't do with just one pair," he states as if it's a given.
    #Squint my eyes at the shoes. Who wears expensive shoes like that? In the forest? He's lost his way.
        "I think you're silently judging my shoes."
        
        "Yes."
        
        "I can walk in the forest with these. They are durable."
        
        "I see."
    *selectable_if (hobby_fashion) #They do look quite impressive.
        *set gimme_your_sandals true
        "Lion skin, you say? How do they compare to sheepskin?"
        
        "How do they ever! It's soft against the skin and sturdy."
        
        "And costly?"
        
        "Quite. Not something you'd get with your salary, I'm afraid. But, if you'd like, I can get you a pair." He smiles, his offer sounds genuine. 
        
        "Oh." It's tempting.
        
        *fake_choice
            #"Yes, please."
                I say, as if the pair doesn't probably cost over 10 000 denarii. He's not actually going to gift me anything, I'm sure. He's just talking.
                
                "You got it," he chuckles and saunters off in his expensive boots.
                
                "You've got to be kidding."
                
                "I never kid about shoes!" He chuckles.
            #"No, no need."
                Even if my heart weeps for me to say it, I don't think it's wise to receive so expensive gifts from him.
                
                He purses his lips and shrugs. "Alright. Just remember, Saturnalia is just around the corner."
                
                "You're not getting me anything."
                
                "Maybe not…" He muses and saunters off in his expensive boots.

A thought creeps into my mind as I watch him leave: I was wealthy in my clan's standards. But the level of wealth the Romans obsess…

*fake_choice
    #It makes me sick.
        *set rich_aversion true
        To think that Niall was someone like me. Now, he wears lion-skinned shoes like it's a given.
        
        No. I doubt he was ever like me. I would never be like him, even if the tables were turned.
        
        Stupid Niall.
    #I don't care. The Romans are idiots, whether rich or poor.
        I shake my head. Niall is Roman now. Therefore, he's an idiot.
    
*page_break
Just when I'm following Niall's footsteps, something rustles in the bushes nearby. Niall turns to me with vengeance. I was expecting him to look afraid, yet he has a deep frown on his face.

"I will protect you," he says with a determined nod. "Whatever it is, you don't need to worry."

*fake_choice
    #"Oh? Even if it's a banshee?"
        The color from his face escapes. Yet, he does give me another nod. "Even if there's a banshee."
        
        Hm. That's almost impressive. He seemed so scared of them earlier.
    #"Oh, my hero. Whatever would I do without you?" I'm being ridiculously sarcastic.
        He squints his eyes at me. "Hey… I've spent enough time with Marcus to know that now you're just being sarcastic."
        
        "Oh no, you caught me."
        
        "I'm being serious." He pouts.
    #"Oh? Really?" Why do his words make something feel weird in my stomach?
        Why would he say something like that? Neverminding that, why would my body react to his words like… like I'm excited by the thought of him wanting to protect me? 
        
        Ugh. No. 
        
        Absolutely not. 
        
        "Why are you frowning?"
        
        I frown even deeper.
        
A wail from the distance makes him jump a little. He looks at the direction where the wail came from, then his sword, then me. "I don't know if they die by sword."
        
"What do you think? They're already dead."
        
He sighs. "Stupid banshees. What can I do?"

*fake_choice
    #"I could tackle you and let them eat you."
        He looks at me with a little pout. "Why would you want to do that?"
                
        I shrug. "At least you would save my life that way."
                
        "I would rather not die for you. At least if there is another way."
                
        "You would if there was no other way?" I almost frown at the thought. Why would he think that?
                
        He straightens his posture and nods. "It's my duty as your superior officer to save you."
                
        "Is it, though? Marcus wouldn't save me."
                
        "Well, he's more… Marcus."
        
        *fake_choice
            #"And you're my protector? Unlike him?" Tease him.
                "I…" He starts to frown. "I… yes?" He looks away. "You're, uh…"
                
                "I'm what?" I give him an innocent smile. 
                
                "…making this weird."
                
                "Oh no! It wasn't my intention at all. Why do you think this is weird?"
                
                "I… your tone." His face is starting to flush.
                
                *fake_choice
                    #Tease him even more.
                        "Well, excuse me. This is just how I talk. What on earth are you thinking, making your cheeks flush like that?"
                        
                        He smacks his palms on his cheeks. "Nothing!"
                        
                        "Oh, but it's something, isn't it?" I squint my eyes at him.
                        
                        He frowns. "You—"
                    #He's starting to make me feel weird about it, too.
                        Even though I started it, I feel heat starting to rise on my cheeks. 
                        
                        "I… let's talk about something else."
                        
                        Niall nods. "Yes, please."
            #Is he being serious? Would he really save me? That's... unexpected.
                I frown at his words. I was trying to make this a light-hearted discussion about him being eaten by banshees, yet he talks like he's sincerely wanting to help and protect me. 
                
                Why? If I asked him, he wouldn't tell me the answer. Is it to lower my shields around him? Is it a ploy to get me to talk to him more freely?
                
                I squint my eyes at him. That must be it.
                
                "Why are you squinting your eyes at me again?"
                
                "Hm." He's feigning innocence. He's plotting something.
    #"We could tell them that we're not interested in their company."
        He lets out a little, nervous laugh. "We could certainly try. At least we'd die together."
        
        *fake_choice
            #"Why would you want to die with me?"
                "Well, it's a common occurrence for brothers-in-arms. It's to be expected. Not sure if I'd particularly like that."
                
                *fake_choice
                    #"Just because I'm your fellow soldier?" Why am I disappointed to hear that?
                        "Well, yes…" He looks away.
                        
                        We continue our walk in silence. Then, he turns to me. "I would like to die with you, even if you weren't my fellow soldier. You're a good person."
                        
                        *fake_choice
                            #"I'm not a good person..." I muse under my breath.
                                "But…" He stops walking. "You are. You are a good person."
                                
                                "You know nothing about me."
                                
                                "I know enough."
                                
                                He continues:
                                *fake_choice
                                    #"I know that you care about your contubernium."
                                        "I've seen how you care for your fellow soldiers. They look up to you, they trust you. No bad person would make them look at them like that."
                                    #"I know that you care about animals."
                                        "I've seen how you interact with Robus and Alitash. No bad person would be so good with animals."
                                    #"I know that you care about children."
                                        "I've seen how you interact with Antonia. No bad person would be so good with children."
                                        
                                He's been spying on me? Anger flashes through to me, despite the content of his words. I—
                            #Why am I blushing? Ugh!
                                Why do I feel like my cheeks are warm? Why do his words make me feel like that?
                                
                                No! I don't want to know. I'm sure this is a ploy to get me talking more freely around him. He's making it sound like I could trust in him.
                                
                                I squint my eyes at him.
                
                                "Why are you squinting your eyes at me again?" He peers at my face closer, bringing his lantern near my face. "Are you—"
                                
                                "No! I'm not! Take that away from me!" I look away so he can't see my face. Stupid Niall and his stupid talks about dying together.
                    #Nod. That's a logical answer.
                        Even if the idea of being brother-in-arm with him is up for debate, there is logic within his words.
                        
                        For once, I suppose.
            #Why would he want that? I wonder, but don't ask.
                If I asked him, he wouldn't tell me the answer. Is it to lower my shields around him? Is it a ploy to get me to talk to him more freely?
                
                I squint my eyes at him. That must be it.
                
                "Why are you squinting your eyes at me again?"
                
                "Hm." He's feigning innocence. He's plotting something.                    
            #"Would you like that? Dying together?" Tease him.
                "Well, it's a common occurrence for brothers-in-arms. It's to be expected. Not sure if I'd particularly like that."
                
                "Would you like to die with [i]me[/i]?" Tease him.
                
                "I… With you, specifically?" He quickly turns his gaze away. "I'm not sure. Yes? I haven't thought about that."
                        
                "Uh-huh?"
                
                "You're, uh…"
                
                "I'm what?" I give him an innocent smile. 
                
                "…making this weird."
                
                "Oh no! It wasn't my intention at all. Why do you think this is weird?"
                
                "I… your tone." His face is starting to flush.
                
                *fake_choice
                    #Tease him even more.
                        "Well, excuse me. This is just how I talk. What on earth are you thinking, making your cheeks flush like that?"
                        
                        He smacks his palms on his cheeks. "Nothing!"
                        
                        "Oh, but it's something, isn't it?" I squint my eyes at him.
                        
                        He frowns. "You—"
                    #He's starting to make me feel weird about it, too.
                        Even though I started it, I feel heat starting to rise on my cheeks. 
                        
                        "I… let's talk about something else."
                        
                        Niall nods. "Yes, please."
    #I shrug.
        He purses his lips. "Nothing?"
        
        "I haven't killed any Others. I've only seen them from a distance."
        
        "Never? But you've really seen them?"
        
        I nod.
        
        "Well… maybe it means that they don't like to approach people that often?" He sounds hopeful.
        
        I give him another shrug, which doesn't manage to calm his nerves one bit.

*page_break
A high-pitched sound disturbs our conversation. 

Niall perks up and starts to locate the sound, his gaze finally locking onto a tree. "What's that?"

*if not(herbalist)
    "It's a bird." I say with confidence. "A dove. It's in distress."
    
    Niall nods with creased brows. 
    
    "They are stuck in that tree!" He yelps.

*if herbalist
    "Spirits?"
    
    Niall shakes his head. "No. That's something else. A series of bleeps."
    
    I strain my ears. It is indeed something peeping. A bird? It sounds like it's in distress.
    
    "There's a little bird stuck in that tree!" He yelps.

And, before I can react, there's the pair of his naked shins hanging from a tree. His lantern lies abandoned on the ground. Then, he's climbed even higher.
*page_break

"What are you doing?"

"Saving the bird, of course. They are stuck in the trunk."

A wail from the distance is not so distant anymore. I look into the darkness, my stomach churning. I would prefer not to see the Other from up close. This is the time when it would be good to run in the other direction.

"Can you hurry it up?"

"I need to be gentle." His voice is not rushed, even if danger lurks just around the corner.

*fake_choice
    #"Hurry up!"
        "I can't. I have to be gentle so I don't hurt them."
        
        A series of panicked 'bleep bleeps' confirm his words. 
    #Another circle of protection? Would Cernunnos help me?
        I bite my lip, preparing myself for another spell.
        
        It's ridiculous to ask for his help twice in a row. He will refuse me. He's not my errand boy.
        
        Ugh! Stupid Niall!
    #"I will just leave you there to be devoured by the Others!"
        "Do what feels best for you, Hati."
        
        How is he that calm?
        
Another wail echoes.
    
*choice
    #"Fine. I'm coming to help.
        *set ch4_niall_fall true
        "What? No, there's no room and we need to—"
        
        "Move your butt, Lord Tribune, I'm coming up."
        
        Once I get up, Niall is balancing on a branch too narrow for his weight. His back is turned to me, his said butt probably not moving anywhere at the moment.
        
        He doesn't turn to face me, his voice sounds a little annoyed as he says: "We're going to both fall if you come any closer."
        
        *fake_choice
            #"Excuse me for not wanting to be alone down there!"
                "Shh! Don't shout. You'll scare the bird."
                
                "I— Ugh."
                
                The bird starts to protest more loudly.
                
                I bite my lip and look at the ground, almost dreading to do so. I don't want to know how banshee's face looks like. "Could you hurry it up?"
                
                "Yes, yes."
                
                He doesn't seem to hurry it up, at all.
                
                Finally, he says: "There! The birdie's free!" He looks after it before—
            #"Do you need any help?"
                "No, thank you for asking. I will manage." He turns and gives me a quick beam.
                
                No. Don't hurry at all. It's not like I'm half-expecting to see a banshee's face when I look down.
                
                I would rather not.
                
                "Are you sure?"
                
                "Yes, yes. Now let me… There! The birdie's free!" He looks after it before—
            #"I just came to enjoy the view." Look at his butt.
                I can't quite see it through his tunic, but judging from his shins, it's muscular.
                
                "You what?!" He shouts and the bird starts shouting with him. The bird flies away, apparently now freed.
                
                "You heard me."
                
                "What?" His mouth hangs open as he repeats the question. I merely look him in the eyes and nod.
                
        "Aaah!" 
        
        Then, Niall is gone. The branch gave in, as suspected.
        
        I peer after him.
        
        "Are you alive?" I don't know if I truly care if he is or isn't. But it's something that should be asked in situations like this.
        
        A little groan from the ground tells me that he is, indeed, still alive. Either that, or those were his last breaths.
        
        Then, he moans and groans. Definitely sounds like he's alive.
        
        Good. It's time to leave. The bonfire still remains unlit and the banshees are coming.
        *goto ch4_niall_nut
    #Leave him. "Goodbye Lord Tribune! Try not to get eaten!"
        *set ch4_niall_fall true
        "Goodbye, Hati! I'll be right there."
        
        I doubt you will be, you fool.
        *goto ch4_bybye_niall
    #Leave him without a word.
        *set ch4_niall_fall true
        That foolish man will die on that tree. I'm not prepared to die with him.
        
        Just when I leave, he yells after me: "Goodbye, Hati! I'll be right there."
        
        Goodbye, you fool, I think to myself, not willing to look back.
        *goto ch4_bybye_niall
    #Prepare myself for confrontation.
        *set confidence +1
        Alright. For some reason I'm going to save that idiot man. Or maybe I'm dying with him. Cernunnos might or might not help me.
        
        It's time to flip the coin.
        
        I start muttering his name, feeling the air for his presence. Nothing but malign intentions pollute the air as I reach for him.
        
        "Cernunnos," I whisper, asking, pleading.
        
        Another wail lingers in the air, this time so close that I don't dare to open my eyes.
        
        Then, I realize something is falling from the tree.
        
        *fake_choice
            *comment stat check strong mc yaas + height yesss
            #I try to catch them. (note: will make this a stat check)
                Without thinking, I prepare myself for catching it. 
                
                All of it falls on me with all its might. With gritted teeth I remain standing.
                                
                The lantern illuminates Niall's widened eyes looking at me. My arms are supporting his back and legs. We just keep looking at each other, neither saying a word.
                
                Finally, Niall opens his mouth: "The branch was a bit too narrow."
                
                "I see."
                
                I just realize that I'm holding him.
                
                *fake_choice
                    #I almost throw him away with a shout.
                        "Aah!" He falls flat on his back with a long, pained groan.
                        
                        *fake_choice
                            #"I'm sorry."
                                The apology leaves me quickly and I almost help him up. But I hesitate. And during that time, he stands up on his own, rubbing his behind.
                                
                                "No. I'm sorry for almost squashing you. But, ermm… It's impressive that you caught me."
                                
                                "Oh?"
                                
                                There's a hint of redness on his cheeks. "That requires reflexes and strength. That's impressive."
                                
                                "I… thank you."
                                
                                Then, with a shake of my head I banish his compliments from my mind.
                            #Just look at him.
                                He quickly stands up, rubbing his behind.
                                
                                "I'm sorry for almost squashing you. But… It's impressive that you caught me."
                                
                                "Oh?"
                                
                                "Yes. Really impressive. That requires reflexes and strength. Good job." He gives me a nod.
                                
                                I give him a nod back.
                    #My gaze lingers on his eyes.
                        I'm only half aware that I'm looking into his eyes. His moss-green eyes, reminding me of the grove. 
                        
                        His lips crack open, but no voice come out. His gaze is fixated on me, his pupils dilated. The muscles on his frame are tense when I hold him, his scent herby scent assaulting my mind. 
                        
                        "I—" I say, not sure how to continue the thought.
                        
                        "Could you…" His voice is raspy. "Could you put me down?"
                        
                        Oh. Of course. I give him a quick nod, granting him his wish.
                        
                        He rubs his neck and looks away.
                        
                        That was… weird.
                    #Put him down.
                        Without much thought, I put him down.
                        
                        He nods and gives me a hesitant smile. "Thank you. And… um. Sorry for falling on you. That was impressive, though."
                        
                        "What was?"
                        
                        "You catching me! I'm not the most lightweight person there is…"
                        
                        That's an understatement. "Not a problem."
                        
                        "Thank you," he repeats the sentiment.
                *goto ch4_niall_nut
            #Try to flee.
                *set ch4_niall_fall true
                But it's too late. 
                
                It falls right on me.
                
                I'm squeezed out of air, trying to breathe, trying to figure out what happened.
                
                The warm weight on me groans in pain.
                
                Niall?
                
                "The branch was too narrow."
                
                *fake_choice
                    #"That's great. Now get off."
                        "Oh! Of course!" With his face flushed, he flies off me.
                        
                        I stand up, trying not to groan from pain.
                        
                        "I'm really sorry, I—"
                        
                        I shake my head to silence him.
                    #"Get off me!"
                        "Oh! Of course!" With his face flushed, he flies off me.
                        
                        I stand up, groaning.
                        
                        "I'm really sorry, I—"
                        
                        I shake my head to silence him.
                    #I can't move. I might be dead.
                        I'm not even being overly dramatic, he squeezed everything out of me. I focus on my limbs, to try and figure out if anything is broken. I squeeze my toes, try to move my arms.
                        
                        Niall looks at me with his mouth open. "Oh! Did I hurt you?"
                        
                        What do you think, you heavy oaf? It's what I would like to say. Yet, no words leave me.
                        
                        "Oh shit! Are you alright?" He yelps and flies off of me. I stay behind, lying on the ground.
                        
                        "Hati? I'm so sorry. The branch, and—"
                        
                        With a long, painful groan I finally stand up, silencing his prattling. 
                        
                        "I—" He starts again.
                        
                        "No."
                    #Oh no. I can feel his warmth all over me.
                        He's heavy, yes. But he's also warm. 
                        
                        And he's squeezed so tightly against me.
                        
                        Oh no.
                        
                        "Are you alright? Your face—"
                        
                        "Niall."
                        
                        "Yes?"
                        
                        "Get off."
                        
                        "Ah. Yes. Of course!" He flies off me. I'm left on the ground, a part of me almost missing his warmth and weight on me. 
                        
                        What?
                        
                        No. I'm missing my brain, if anything.
                        
                Let's just get that bonfire going before banshees eat us.
                *goto ch4_niall_nut

*label ch4_bybye_niall
I hasten my steps, leaving that foolish man behind.

Then, a loud thump halts my steps. It's as if something heavy fell on the ground. 

Niall runs to me, his hands on his behind.

"Did you fall from the tree?"

He gives me a solemn nod. "Let's not talk about that."

*fake_choice
    #"You did. You fell from the tree." Tease him.
        He flushes red. "Did I ask you not to talk about it?"
        
        "I don't take orders from—"
        
        He's my superior officer. I should take orders from him.
        
        "It wasn't an order. It was a request. Besides, aren't we in a hurry? Banshees and all?"
        
        "Fine. Let's forget about your stumbling."
    #Fine. There's no time.

*goto ch4_niall_nut

*label ch4_niall_nut
*page_break 
Finally, the flames of the bonfire warm my frozen limbs.

*if ch4_niall_fall
    Niall is rubbing muscles, his face distorting from time to time. He doesn't look like he's used to falling from trees.

*fake_choice
    #"Why did you save that bird?"
        Is he trying to make himself appear as a good guy? To get me to trust him? 
        
        He shrugs. "I… I just thought they needed help."
        
        "That's it?"
        
        "What else should I say?"
        
        "I… don't know."
        
        "I think you would've saved the bird, too." He sounds confident about it. As if he knew anything about me.
        
        *fake_choice
            #"No. I wouldn't have." I lie.
                *set manipulative +1
                *set ruthless -1
                I quickly deny his words. Why would he hold such assumptions about me?
                
                He smiles at my words. "Uh-huh."
                
                "What?"
                
                "No. Nothing. I believe you." He looks like he doesn't believe me.
                
                "I wouldn't have saved the bird."
                
                "Uh-huh."
            #"No. I wouldn't have." I'm telling the truth.
                *set ruthless +1
                *set manipulative -1
                Why would I risk my life for the life of a bird? If I stayed and helped every little critter there is, I would have nothing else to do.
                
                He looks at me, his eyes weirdly unreadable. Not something I'm used to when looking at him.
                
                "What?" I ask.
                
                "I wonder if you're telling the truth.
                
                "I am."
                
                He nods, slowly, taking in my words. Then, there's disappointment in his voice when he says: "It's a pity."
            #"Yes. I would have." I lie.
                *set ruthless +1
                *set manipulative +1
                Why would I risk my life for the life of a bird? If I stayed and helped every little critter there is, I would have nothing else to do.
                
                He stares at me, his eyes weirdly unreadable. Not something I'm used to when looking at him.
                
                "What?" I ask.
                
                "I don't believe you." There's disappointment in his words.
            #"Yes. I would have." I'm telling the truth.
                *set manipulative -1
                *set ruthless -1
                He gives me a bright smile and a nod. "Don't you think it's our duty to help as humans? We can help, why shouldn't we?" 
                
                "Right."
                
                He seems awfully happy about our exchange. He smiles to himself and looks at the bonfire.
    #Ignore him.

*page_break
"Do you know about the nut game?" I ask, words escaping my lips before I can stop them.

No. I don't want to play that game with him.

Niall perks up, giving me a wide smile. "Ah. Of course! I'll put my initials into a nut, just as you. Then, we'll throw them into the fire, then they pop. Then…" He seemingly racks his memory. "Then, if they fall next to each other…"

"They fall in love."

"Yes. The people whose nuts they are. Not the nuts."

*fake_choice
    #"Yes. What an important addition." I'm being sarcastic.
        He doesn't catch my sarcasm. Instead, he gives me a wide smile. "It would be a weird game if we'd just be pairing a couple of nuts together."
        
        "Right." Can't argue with that.
    #Scoff. Is that his attempt at humor?
        He pouts at my scoff. "What?"
        
        "Nothing. Let's just get this over with."
    #Ignore his remark.
        I pull out two hazel nuts out of my tunic. "Want to play?"

It's a tradition to throw these stupid nuts into the fire at this point of the night. Nothing more, nothing less.

*page_break Into the fire the nuts go.
    
[i]POP![/i]

His nut lands right next to mine. The impact almost makes my nut roll further away from his, but it does stay in place.

How unfortunate.

Niall looks at the nuts. "I see."

*fake_choice
    #"This means we'll get married!" Tease him.
        Niall flushes red. "What! We can't get married, we're men."
        
        I shrug. "Who cares? Let's elope, run together to the sunset, hand in hand."
        
        "What? No. Your sense of humor is concerning."
        
        I can't help it. It's so easy getting reactions out of him. It's almost enjoyable.
        
        *fake_choice
            #Tease him even further. "So, you've never wanted to marry a man before?"
                "That's not how things work in Rome."
                
                "Oh? But otherwise you'd be up for it?"
                
                "What? Well… No! Of course not."
                
                Hm. Social norms are more free with the Celts. He seems to have adopted the Romans' stupid views on sexuality, too.
                
                *if gender = "w"
                    I'd almost want to tell him that I'm not a man. That he shouldn't—
                *if gender = "m"
                    A pity. I wonder if…
                    
                Wait, what? What am I even thinking? 
                
                Why am I thinking about his sexuality? No!
            #Let the poor Tribune go. This time.
                I give him a small grin. Just a tiny one.
                
                He eyes me with suspicion before finally sighing in relief. "Thank the gods…" I hear him mutter.
            *selectable_if (gender = "w") #"What if I was a woman?"
                I am. I almost want to tell him that, just to see the look on his face. But of course I won't tell him.
                    
                He frowns. "But… you're not."
                    
                "Oh, right. I'm not."
                
                "Right?"
                
                "Of course I'm not a woman. Ha. You'd be forced to kill me if I was."
                
                He quickly shakes his head. "I would not kill you."
                
                "What?"
                
                "Of course I wouldn't."
                
                I blink at him. Why does he sound so sure of it?
    #Look at the nuts, too. This doesn't mean anything. "I don't know why I suggested this game."
        He shakes his head. "Oh, no, don't worry about it. It was a good pop."
        
        I nod. It was.
    #Oh no. This is embarrassing.
        "Oh." My face is flushed red as I look at the nuts. 
        
        Niall, however, doesn't seem to understand the implication. It hasn't sunk in yet, at least. However, once he turns to look at my bright red face, his mouth opens.
        
        "Oh," he repeats the sentiment.
        
        He quickly kicks his nut away from mine.
        
        "What?" I look at his nut, now lying alone and discarded in the distance.
        
        "Problem solved." He frowns at the nut.
        
        *fake_choice
            #"Why did you do that?" I'm slightly disappointed.
                What? Am I? Disappointed? 
                
                No, of course not. Why would I be?
                
                However, there's something weirdly churning in my stomach when I think of him kicking his nut away from mine without hesitation.
                
                He looks away, even the top of his ear is red. "It's a stupid game."
                
                "Oh?"
                
                Then, as if realizing something, he turns to me and starts prattling: "I mean, it wasn't stupid to suggest that we'd play this game."
                
                When I don't answer, he continues: "The game itself isn't that stupid, either. I just think that perhaps we shouldn't have played it at all, since… you know."
                
                *fake_choice
                    #"Since what?"
                        *if gender = "w"
                            If it's about us being men, I just want to tell him that I'm not one.
                        *if gender = "a"
                            If it's about us being men, I just want to tell him that it's not that simple. 
                            
                            However…
                            
                        Just as the question leave my mouth, I start to doubt my sanity. I shouldn't care about the reasons why he doesn't want to play this game with me. 
                            
                        What am I even doing?
                        
                        "Since… uh." He looks away, his cheeks now fully flushed.
                        
                        The words leave hanging between us, their meaning confusing.
                    #"I suppose so."
                        He sighs in relief. "Right? Good."
                    #Remain silent.
            #I give him a nod. Good riddance. Let's not talk about that.
                He gives me a nod, too. A stern one, like there's nothing to talk about. 
                
                Nothing at all. These are just stupid nuts.
            #"That won't change things. The gods have spoken."
                "What? No. 
        
"Lord Tribune, Hati, we've arrived." Floyd's voice reaches us, putting a stop to the game.
*goto samhain_bonfire

*label samhain_quinn
*page_break
Floyd nods. "If you don't mind, we will escort Lady Tinsae back to her home."

"I apologize if you need Lord Floyd and Lord Kegan," Tinsae says, "but they insisted."

"That forest is no good for a lady to walk alone. We will escort her."

I give them a curt nod. Quinn and I can handle the rituals. Tinsae gives me a small smile before bidding us goodbye.

*page_break
It doesn't take long for the two of us to gather enough wood to light the bonfire.

Quinn looks at the fire, its flames making shadows dance on ${q_his} features.

"What happened before?" I ask, now that we're finally alone.

$!{q_he} turns to me, ${q_his} eyes filled with both fear and relief. "You saved me. You saved me from it."

"But what was it?"

$!{q_he} looks away, ${q_his} brows creased. "Would you believe me if I said that I don't know?"

*fake_choice
    #"No. I think you know." Challenge ${q_him}.
        $!{q_he} opens ${q_his} mouth slightly before licking ${q_his} lips. "I can't blame you for thinking that."
        
        "So, you do know what it was?"
        
        "I have a hunch. It has something to do with the blessing."
        
        I nod. "I figured as much. What was it?" I repeat.
        
        "I…" $!{q_he} swallows. "I really don't know. I just know that someone is after me because of what happened. Something is not right."
        
        I frown. $!{q_his} words sound honest enough. The fear in ${q_his} voice is genuine. But is ${q_he} telling me everything?
        
        "I'm sorry that I can't be of more help," ${q_he} whispers, shifting ${q_his} gaze back to the bonfire.
    #"Yes. Of course."
        *set quinn_trust +1
        "Huh? You would?" $!{q_he} looks surprised.
        
        "Why are you surprised? Of course I believe your word."
        
        "I… umm. I thank you. Of course."
        
        "Well? What should we do about it?"
    #"I'm not sure."
        $!{q_he} nods, as if ${q_he} was expecting it. "I understand. I wouldn't believe me, either."
        
        "It's just… everything that's happened. It's difficult."
        
        "I can tell you as much as I know." $!{q_he} rubs the back of ${q_his} neck. "Someone is after me. Because of what happened."
        
        "What happened with the blessing?"
        
        "Yes. I… don't know anything else."

$!{q_he} sits down on a pillow of moss, burying ${q_his} face in ${q_his} hands. "I want things to be the way they were before."

I sigh, taking a seat next to ${q_him}. "Me, too." I take a breath, inhaling a bit of smoke from the bonfire. It stings a little, but it doesn't matter.

Quinn looks at me. "We're still here."

"That we are."

$!{q_he} smiles, the light from the fire making ${q_his} tired features look more alive. "I wish I could sit here with you for eternity."

*fake_choice
    #"Our butts would get cold, though."
        $!{q_he} bursts out laughing, the sound of ${q_his} joy echoing around us, battling the darkness with the bonfire.
        
        "True! The bonfire will die, eventually. We'd get hemorrhoids, too."
        
        I nod. "I'd hate that."
        
        $!{q_he} shakes ${q_his} head. "I would actually love it. It's my secret kink." 
        
        "Oh no! No. Please don't share anything else about your hemorrhoid kinks."
        
        $!{q_he} smiles, the banter reminding me of how things used to be. Somehow, I feel warmer than before.
    #"Me, too."
        The smile on ${q_his} face brightens. $!{q_he} quickly takes my hand in ${q_his} and squeezes before letting me go. 
        
        *fake_choice
            #Take ${q_his} hand.
                I take ${q_his} escaping hand in mine and won't let go. 
                
                $!{q_his} gaze darts to our intertwined hands. Then, ${q_he} smiles. "Did you just steal my hand?"
                
                "Yes. It's mine now."
                
                "But I need it."
                
                "Nope. I need it more."
                
                $!{q_he} chuckles. "Fine. You can borrow it."
            #Look at ${q_him}.
                $!{q_he} doesn't comment on the gesture, ${q_he} just gives me a small, mischievous grin.
                
                "Did you just steal some of my life energy?"
                
                "Yes. I am a demon, after all."
                
                *if quinn_yup_demon
                    I squint my eyes at ${q_him}. "That's not funny."
                    
                    "I'm sorry. It's a little funny?"
                    
                    "No. It's not."
                    
                    $!{q_he} pouts, but it's a playful pout.
                    
                *if not(quinn_yup_demon)
                    "A-ha! I knew it."
                    
                    "Yes! I'll suck all of your life energy!" $!{q_he} grins and takes my hand again.
                    
                    $!{q_his} hand lingers on mine. 
            #"Was that a sneak attack?"
                "What was?" $!{q_he} grins. 
                
                "I could swear that I saw you…" My words linger but ${q_he} doesn't confirm my suspicion. I look away.
                
                Then, I can feel ${q_his} hand on mine again. I turn to ${q_him}. "A-ha!"
                
                $!{q_he} laughs. "Oh no! Caught me red-handed." $!{q_he} doesn't let go of my hand. 
        
        So, we sit there for a while, hand in hand, looking at the bonfire.
    #Nod. I wish things were like they used to be. When I used to trust you.
        I don't say these things, knowing that ${q_he} can know them without words.
        
        Something flashes on Quinn's features. Whatever it was, it doesn't kill ${q_his} smile, but it makes the smile more forced than it was. $!{q_he} heard.
        
        $!{q_he} looks away. "I'm…" $!{q_his} words linger between us. I don't ask.
    #"We have too much work to do. We can't just sit here."
        The smile on ${q_his} face doesn't wither away, but it's close. $!{q_he} shakes ${q_his} head. "True. We have so much to do."
        
        $!{q_he} turns away from me, looking at the bonfire. "There's always so much to do."
        
"You know, ${name}, I was thinking about my behavior earlier." $!{q_he} purses ${q_his} lips and raises ${q_his} gaze to meet mine. "I was being a dunce."

I nod in agreement. $!{q_he} was. 

$!{q_he} gives me a slight frown. "Aren't you going to say: 'No, no, you're not a dunce, you're my bestest friend ever!'"

*choice
    #Confront ${q_him} about invading my mind.
        *set mindrape true
        *goto ch4_quinn_confrontation
    #Play along.
        *goto ch4_quinn_playalong

*label ch4_quinn_confrontation
"Best friends wouldn't make their friends believe they're going insane."

"What? Why would you say that?" $!{q_he} frowns, seemingly puzzled.

"I was afraid that I was going insane." 

"Why would you think that?"

"I was hearing voices in my head?" Is ${q_he} seriously this slow or am I not making sense?

"Oh, right." $!{q_he} frowns, still looking a little confused about everything. Still ${q_he} nods. "That makes sense."

I wait for something more. When nothing comes, I say: "That's it? That's all you have to say?"

$!{q_he} starts nodding before shaking ${q_his} head. "Oh! I'm sorry that I made you think that you're going insane. And all that."

"Didn't this occur to you before? My annoyance and distrust? The feeling of being violated when you invaded my mind?"

"Violated?" $!{q_he} looks at me with horror painting ${q_his} face. "That was [i]never[/i] my intention. I—"

"How didn't you notice anything? Or didn't you care?"

"You know, I don't read your mind like it's a wax tablet. I don't want to invade your privacy."

I almost laugh at the absurdity of ${q_his} words. "You've already done so multiple times!"

"Well, yes." $!{q_he} falls silent. Then, after a moment of pondering, ${q_he} nods. "I… I have." $!{q_he} takes a breath. "I should've told you before. I should've asked for your permission. I should've done things differently. I should've never made you feel violated. I can't even begin to apologize that. That's…" ${q_he} shakes ${q_his} head in clear disgust. 

Then, finally, ${q_he} says: "I'm sorry."

*fake_choice
    #It's still too early to forgive ${q_him} but for now, I'll accept it.
        "Fine. But I'm watching you."
        
        "I don't mind." $!{q_he} grins.
        
        "Not like that." 
        
        $!{q_he} shrugs and looks away. "You know… I'm afraid."
        
        "Of what?"
    #I'm suspicious of ${q_him} and I doubt I can forgive ${q_him}.
        *set quinn_nopetrust true
        I shake my head.
        
        $!{q_he} purses ${q_his} lips and nods. "I understand. You need time."
        
        Perhaps. Perhaps this is something that cannot be forgiven.
        
        $!{q_he} looks at me with worry tainting ${q_his} youthful features. "You know, I'm afraid."
        
        "Of what?"
    #"Fine. Don't let it happen again."
        "You don't want me to speak in your head again?"
        
        "Why would I want that?"
        
        $!{q_he} frowns in thought. "But… I might have something to say."
        
        "Say it like normal people."
        
        "But I can do it from afar. And others can't hear. Isn't that convenient? I could save your life."
        
        I sigh. It is. "Fine. But only if it's an emergency."
        
        $!{q_he} ponders on my words. "So… whatever I deem to be an emergency?"
        
        "Quinn."
        
        $!{q_he} grins. "Understood." Then, ${q_his} features darken. "You know… I'm afraid."
        
        "Of what?"

*goto ch4_quinn_fear

*label ch4_quinn_playalong
*fake_choice
    #Mimic the words in playful mockery.
        I roll my eyes. "No, no! You're not a dunce! You're my bestest friend ever!"
        
        $!{q_he} wipes an imaginary bead of sweat from ${q_his} forehead. "Thank the Twins! I was afraid I lost you." Then, in the same breath, ${q_he} gets more solemn and falls silent.
        
        "What?"
        
        "I…," ${q_he} starts.
        
        $!{q_he} takes my hand. "I need you. I'm afraid."
        
        "Of what?"
        
        "Of losing you."
    #"No. I'm not going to say that. You were a dunce."
        $!{q_he} bites ${q_his} lip. "I know. And I'm sorry."
        
        Silence hangs between us.
        
        Finally, ${q_he} whispers: "I've been afraid."
        
        "Afraid of what?"
        
        "Of losing you."
        
        "What? That's not necessary. I—"
    #"You're not a dunce."
        "Thank you but I know you're just saying that. I'm a huge dunce."
        
        Shrug. "If you want to be, then by all means. I support you in your chosen career."
        
        $!{q_he} chuckles but soon enough, ${q_his} smile dies. $!{q_he} looks at me with a weird sense of earnestness. "I need you."
        
        "What?"
        
        "I need you. I'm afraid that you'll die."
        
        "I'm not going to die."
    #"I don't find this situation funny at all."
        $!{q_he} flinches. "I see. Then I'm even more sorry. Truly. I'm not being sarcastic."
        
        I sigh. "I see." Everything that's happened so far has diminished my willingness to partake in this banter.
        
        "I need you."
        
        $!{q_his} words throw me off. "What?"
    #Remain silent and sigh.
        Quinn looks at me and sighs. "I'm… afraid."
        
        "Of what?"
        
*goto ch4_quinn_fear

*label ch4_quinn_fear
"You'll die." $!{q_he} states it as if it was a fact. "The revenge is not worth it."

"But didn't you say before that revenge is what matters the most?"

"Did I? If that's the case, I don't think so anymore. I just want us to leave."

"What? We can't just leave."

"Can't we? Let's just go back to Caledonia. You must still have living relatives within other tribes, those who married and moved. Let's regain your power, I will help you. We can kill Romans in direct combat. Let's banish them from the North." $!{q_his} demeanor changes back to ${q_his} usual self, ${q_his} eyes glimmer with hope as ${q_he} looks to the North. Where home lies. Then, ${q_he} turns to me and says:

"Please."

*fake_choice
    #"That's tempting..."
        That does sound like a plan. Perhaps a better plan than whatever this was. "Are you sure?"
        
        $!{q_he} nods. "Yes. You don't need to worry about anything. I can get us back home without a fuss." Then, ${q_he} adds, as if to confirm it: "I can."
        
        "But…"
        
        "No buts, I know you need time to think about that. It'd be a pain to travel during winter, anyway."
        
        If it only were that easy…
    #"No. We can't. We still have work to do." I can't be tempted to leave. I need to have my revenge.
        "No?" The wistful smile on ${q_his} face dies. "What work? You haven't killed anyone yet. You'd just die if you tried."
        
        I frown. "Don't you trust me? I'm infiltrating their inner circle as we speak."
        
        "I… I do trust you." $!{q_his} words shrink into a whisper. $!{q_he} looks away, fiddling ${q_his} bracelet on ${q_his} hand. "Are you sure you can do it without dying? I really don't want you to die on me."
        
        "Of course I'm not going to die." It's not a complete lie. At least I don't plan on dying. Just yet.
        
        $!{q_he} doesn't look fully convinced but gives me a nod, nonetheless.
    #"No. We can't leave." I don't know why. I just feel like we shouldn't. I need to be here, still. 
        "But… why?"
        
        "We need to be here. The revenge," I say, not sure if I believe my own words. If I don't, ${q_he} won't, either. $!{q_he} squints ${q_his} eyes before sighing.
        
        "I just… hope that you won't die on me. Can you promise me that? I wouldn't know what to do…"
        
        "I'm not planning on dying."
        
        "Do you promise me?"
        
        "That I won't die? I can't promise that. You know that."
        
        $!{q_he} looks at me, begging for some sort of promise.
        
        "I… promise that I'll try not to die."
        
        $!{q_he} sighs. "I suppose that's good enough…"
    #"Yes. Let's leave."
        $!{q_he} bursts into a wide smile, it easily reaches ${q_his} eyes. "Yes! Thank you!" $!{q_he} takes my hand and squeezes it. "Thank you."
        
        "But how? When?"
        
        "It'd be a pain to travel during winter. We can leave next spring." The smile on ${q_his} face is relieved. "I'm just happy that you don't want to be here, either."
*page_break
Quinn starts rummaging ${q_his} bag. "I brought something that might make you feel better."

$!{q_he} hands me a…

*fake_choice
    #a set of antlers.
        *set antlers true
        The antlers of a stag that I befriended when I was little. They are still decorated with little bows and dried flowers that father and I put on.
        
        Their waxy texture feels soft against my skin.
    #a dried flower crown.
        *set crown true
        The flower crown that we made with father when I was little. The flowers are still beautiful, despite its age.
        
        I handle it with care, fearing it would crumble to dust.
    #a staff with blessings carved on it.
        *set staff true
        The staff made of my favorite tree that fell down before its time. The blessings are carved in by father.
        
        I mutter the blessings out loud with my eyes closed.
    #a bracelet made of braided hair and beads.
        *set bracelet true
        The bracelet I made with father when I was little. Its beads are still bright yellow, the braids are made of father's hair.
        
        He joked that he would never leave my side since I had a part of him always with me.

This is… this is my prized possession. I had to leave it behind. I thought I'd never see it again.

"You… thank you."

The smile on ${q_his} face is soft as ${q_he} looks at me. It reminds me of the way ${q_he} used to look when we were back at home. "You're quite welcome."

*fake_choice
    #Hug ${q_him}.
        "Thank you so much," I repeat, lightly squeezing the remnants of the life I left behind. I inhale the scent of lilacs and close my eyes.
        
        The corners of my eyes burn.
        
        "Thank you."
    #Smile at ${q_him}.
        "Thank you so much, "I repeat, lightly squeezing the remnants of the life I left behind.
    #Give ${q_him} a nod.
        I lightly squeeze the remnants of the life I left behind.
        
"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Floyd's voice yanks my attention to him. 
*goto samhain_bonfire

*label samhain_bonfire
*page_break
Floyd barely looks at me, his features tinted pink. 

"Now that you have corrected every mistake we made," he says, "I think we…" He gestures at Brick, Pec, and Kegan. "…should leave."

Brick is holding Pec in a bridal carry, he's still asleep. Kegan gives me a small, embarrassed smile. 

*fake_choice
    #"You should leave. You almost ruined everything."
        Floyd looks away and rubs his neck. "I, uh… yes."
        
        Brick rolls his eyes and starts leaving with Pec in his arms. Kegan gives me one last look before following their lead.
        
        Besides, it's great news that they're leaving.
    #I nod. It's good that they leave.
        Brick starts leaving with Pec in his arms. Kegan gives me one last look before following their lead.
        
Floyd still lingers behind, clearly wanting to say something more. Perhaps apologize again, perhaps offer another excuse. I'm not sure if I want to hear it. 

There is still one ritual left to do and I do not want any audience. I need to…

Dance.

It's to be done. Otherwise, the spirits might not feel welcome.

Floyd peers at my determined face. "Is there anything else you need help with?"

"No. Absolutely not."

My tone must've given something away, since he asks: "Are you quite sure?"

Quinn steps in: "We need music. Can you play?"

Quinn! You absolute weasel! No!

But the damage is already done and Floyd says: "I can actually play the drums." He, oh so helpfully, takes the said drum out of his cloak.

"No, no, there is absolutely no need for—"

"Good!" Quinn says and smacks me on the back. "We've got music!"

"…Great."

*fake_choice
    #It's just... I can't dance. At all. And there are others.
        *if samhain_quinn
            It's not that Quinn would mind, though. $!{q_he}'s seen my awful dance moves before and we still remain friends.
            
            "Ugh, fine." I sigh.
            
            "What?" Quinn says.
            
            "I will dance."
            
            "You don't have to make it sound like a threat."
            
            "Quinn!"
            
            "Ha! I'm sorry. You dance lovely. Don't worry about it."
        *if samhain_tinsae
            Even if Tinsae seems like she wouldn't ridicule me for my dance moves, I'm still hesitant.
            
            "Is everything alright?"
            
            "No. I will… dance."
            
            "Oh!" She seems more excited about it than is wise. "Is that part of the ritual? Can I dance, too?"
            
            "Fine. It's to make the spirits feel welcome. We should do it around the bonfire."
                    
            She gives me another smile and takes my hand. "Please, let us dance, then."
        *if samhain_marcus
            I peek at Marcus. That stupid ass will make a mockery out of me, I know he will.
            
            "What?"
            
            "I'm going to dance." It sounds like a challenge and a threat at the same time.
            
            He snorts. "You don't look like a dancer."
            
            *fake_choice
                #"I can dance and I will dance!"
                    "Fine, fine! I'm not stopping you."
                    
                    "You will not!"
                    
                    "No. I will not."
                    
                    He's weirdly compliant. He's plotting something.
                #"I'm not. But I still need to dance."
                    "That's unfortunate, then. At least for those who are forced to watch."  
                    
                    "You don't have to watch."
                    
                    "How can I not?"
                #"Sod off."
                
            Then, he asks with a smirk: "Can I join you?"
            
            "No. You can't."
            
            He snickers. "Fine. I will just watch from the sidelines. Don't mind me."
                    
            I sigh. This will be difficult.
        *if samhain_camilla
            I hesitantly look at Camilla and Tinsae. 
            
            Camilla squints her eyes. "What are you plotting?"
            
            I sigh. "There's another ritual. I will…"
            
            Tinsae nods at my hesitation, urging me to continue.
            
            "I will… dance."
            
            Camilla raises her eyebrow, voicing my fears: "[i]Can[/i] you dance?"
            
            *fake_choice
                #"Of course I can dance!"
                    My retort seems to convince no one. Tinsae and Camilla look at each other, Tinsae still wearing a small smile.
                    
                    "I will gladly dance with you, if you'd have me," she says.
                    
                    "I… suppose."
                #"It doesn't matter. I need to dance."
                    "Brave," she says with a nod.
                    
                    "Brave because you will be judging me from the sidelines?"
                    
                    "Yes."
                #"No. Not really."
                    "I'm not looking forward to this, then."
                    
                    I shake my head. "Me neither."
    #I can dance and I will dance. This is an important part of the ritual.
        *set dancer true
*page_break
Floyd begins to play his drum. Short, marching rhythm starts taking over the auditive landscape. 

*if samhain_niall
    I stand in front of the bonfire. 
    *if not(dancer)
        I'm unsure how to begin.
        
        Niall gives me a smile and a nod. Rhythm has already taken him with it. His muscular frame moves with more grace than I thought possible. 
        
        Encouraged by his example, I give him a nod back. I can do this. This is for the gods. This is for the Dead.
        
        I can do this.
    *if dancer
        I start to sway with the beat of the drum, not minding the audience. 
        
        Niall gives me a smile. Rhythm has already taken him with it. His muscular frame moves with more grace than I thought possible. 
*if samhain_marcus
    I stand in front of the bonfire. The heat of the fire licks my skin, making me forget that it's already late fall.
    *if not(dancer)
        I'm unsure how to begin.
        
        Marcus's voice makes my blood boil: "Just get on with it!"
        
        *fake_choice
            #"Shut up! I have to concentrate."
                "What's there to concentrate about? Just start shaking your ass."
                
                "WHAT? That's not how—" Deep breaths. 
                
                Deep breaths. Don't let that ass get to you.
            #Ignore him.
                It takes everything in me not to lash out on him. He's trying to get me to react, as always.
                
        Ignoring him, my body slowly starts to loosen up. I need to think of the Twins. I'm doing this for them. I'm doing this for the Dead.
        
        I need to do this.
    *if dancer
        I gaze at Marcus, just a little, just from the corner of my eye. He looks like he's ready to say something stupid.
        
        "No," I say preemptively. 
        
        "No?"
        
        "No."
        
        "Alright."
        
        Nodding to myself, I start to sway with the beat of the drum, not minding the audience.

*if samhain_tinsae
    I stand in front of the bonfire. The heat of the fire licks my skin, making me forget that it's already late fall.
    *if not(dancer)
        I'm unsure how to begin. Tinsae gives me an encouraging smile and a nod. She herself has already given herself to the beat of the drum, her slim figure swaying with the rhythm.
        
        Encouraged by his example, I give him a nod back. I can do this. This is for the gods. This is for the Dead.
        
        I can dance. I will dance.
    *if dancer
        Tinsae stands next to me. She flashes me a smile and says: "Shall we begin?"
        
        I nod. Yes. It's time to dance.
        
*if samhain_camilla
    I stand in front of a bonfire. The heat of the fire licks my skin, making me forget that it's already late fall.
    *if not(dancer)
        I'm unsure how to begin. I try to begin swaying with the beat of the drum but I can't forget that I have a very judging audience. 
        
        I take a peek at Camilla. She looks the same as ever: grumpy and judging.
        
        Great. Try to dance when she looks at me like that.
        
        "Don't mind me. Just get on with it."
        
        "Could you look somewhere else?"
        
        "What? Don't be a child, just dance already."
        
        I sigh. Fine. 
        
        My body slowly starts to loosen up. I need to think of the Twins. I'm doing this for them. I'm doing this for the Dead.
        
        I need to do this.
    *if dancer
        I start to move my body in the rhythm of the drum. Its pace is slow at first, but gradually, step by step, it starts speeding up. 
        
        I lose myself to the rhythm.
        
*if samhain_quinn 
    $!{q_he} moves like water around the fire. $!{q_his} eyes are closed. $!{q_he} looks one with the fire. $!{q_he} doesn't open ${q_his} eyes when ${q_he} says:
    
    "Dance with me."
    
    *if not(dancer)
        "I, uh…"
        
        "It's alright. I won't laugh. Just a little and only after we're already done—"
        
        "Quinn!"
        
        "I'm sorry, no, I won't. Please, just dance."
        
        I sigh. Fine. 
        
        My body slowly starts to loosen up. I need to think of the Twins. I'm doing this for them. I'm doing this for the Dead.
        
        I need to do this.
    *if dancer
        I start to move my body in the rhythm of the drum. Its pace is slow at first, but gradually, step by step, it starts speeding up. 
        
        I lose myself to the rhythm.
*page_break
I dance. 

The rhythm of the drums guide my steps. With my eyes closed I dance. My mind drowns into the hypnotic beat of drums. My body sways with the smooth beat.

It turns increasingly fast, forcing my feet to obey its wishes.

I dance so the spirits find their way to the other side without harm. Be they Roman, German, or Briton; the Dead know no nationality. 

I dance to welcome my dead family by the bonfire. Please, join me. Brother. Father. Moth—

I breathe in, despite the smoke.

The flames lick my clothes but they don't burn.

I'm an empty cup, asking to be filled with divine purpose. With every step that I take, something warm starts creeping up from my legs. It's slow, at first. Then, it floods me with such violence, I'm forced to sharply inhale.

It softens. Affection fills my mind with its warmth. The sense of devotion and love wraps me in its embrace.

I'm loved.

*page_break Is that...

Quinn's voice rings in my head: [i]The Twins.[/i]
    
I let out a loud gasp that drowns into the crackling of the flames. [i]They're here![/i]
    
[i]They're alive.[/i]
    
[i]They're alive.[/i]
    
[i]They're here.[/i]
    
I'm not sure whose voice is whose anymore. I'm filled with hopeful and relieved words. But there's something shadowing the happiness, there's something wrong.
    
The power is not as magnificent as it was before. I can feel an open, festering wound.
    
They are hurt.
    
No.     
*page_break

*if samhain_quinn
    Quinn's hand finds mine in the midst of dancing. I turn to look at ${q_his} face to see ${q_him} smile at me. 
    
    [i]They're here.[/i]
    
    [i]Yes.[/i]
    
    [i]They're alive.[/i]
    
    [i]Yes.[/i]
    
    [i]They love you so much.[/i]
    
    I inhale. They do. It's true.
    
    [i]love you[/i]
    
    I smile. 
    
    A teardrop escapes my eye, fleeing across my cheek towards my neck.
    
    And I smile.

*if samhain_tinsae
    A gasp makes me open my eyes. It wasn't me. 
    
    Tinsae's mouth is slightly open. She senses it, too. She's afraid. She looks at me, uncertainty tainting her usually confident eyes. 
    
    I give her a wide smile. 'Don't worry, it's the Twins!' I say with my gaze, for my tongue betrays me. I can't speak.
    
    [i]Don't stop dancing[/i]
    
    I just dance.
    
    [i]Please don't[/i]
    
    *fake_choice
        #Take Tinsae's hand.
            [i]No[/i]
            
            I take it, ignoring the pleas in my head. Her skin against mine sends a sense of companionship into my mind, widening my smile.
            
            She blossoms into a wide smile, herself. We move our frames in sync, happiness bursting in my chest.
            
            They're here and they still love me.
        #Let Tinsae take my hand.
            She takes my hand with more certainty than her eyes hold. She smiles with some hesitation.
            
            [i]No[/i]
            
            Something pleads in my head. But I let her take my hand and even give her a smile to accompany it.
                        
            She blossoms into a wide smile, herself. We move our frames in sync, happiness bursting in my chest.
            
            They're here and they still love me.
        #Just keep dancing.
            I give her a nod and keep dancing like everything is as it should be, letting her know there is no need for alarm. 
            
            She gives me a relieved nod and continues to move her slender frame to the rhythm of the music.
            
            I dance with a wide smile on my face.
            
            They're here and they still love me.
    
    [i]Don't stop[/i]
*if samhain_marcus
    Marcus has taken another step towards the bonfire. He looks at me, confusion tainting his usually smug features. For once, he's silent. He senses it, too.
    
    Something magnificent. Something ancient and holy.
    
    [i]Don't stop dancing[/i]
    
    *fake_choice
        #Take his hand and dance.
            *set marcus_dancer true
            [i]no[/i]
            
            Happiness bursts inside my chest, almost ripping it open. I want to share it with someone, anyone.
            
            Even if it's that idiot.
            
            I take his hand with enough force to make him fall towards me, the beat of the drum rushing my step.
            
            "What?" He asks, his voice genuinely surprised.
            
            "Shut up."
            
            He looks at me with raised brows. Then, he gives me a crooked smile. "Fine."
            
            He gives my hand a forceful squeeze before letting go, creating distance between us.
            
            It takes a moment for him to loosen up; he sways his wide shoulders, feeling the music, feeling his body. And eventually, he does start dancing. He sways with the marching beat with his eyes closed. At times, he throws me a glance.
            
            It's difficult to decipher its meaning. His gaze mirrors the fire and the surrounding darkness. 
            
            And I find myself smiling at him.
            
            The Twins. They are here.
        #Smile and dance.
            I smile. Happiness bursts inside my chest, almost ripping it open. 
            
            My body sways with the marching beat, my steps guided by Floyd's drum.
            
            I pant as beads of sweat start running down my forehead.
            
            With my eyes are half open I notice Marcus looking at me. It's difficult to decipher its meaning. His gaze mirrors the fire and the surrounding darkness. 
            
            And I find myself smiling at him.
            
            The Twins. They are here.
        #Ignore him and dance.
            Happiness bursts inside my chest, almost ripping it open. My body sways with the marching beat, my steps guided by Floyd's drum.
            
            I pant as beads of sweat start running down my forehead. And I smile. 
            
            I smile so widely it almost hurts. 
            
            The Twins are here.
            
            They're here.
            
    [i]Don't stop[/i]
    
*if samhain_camilla
    Camilla has taken another step towards the bonfire. She looks at me, confusion tainting her usually scowling face. I move my gaze to Tinsae, whose mouth is slightly open. They both sense it.
    
    Something magnificent. Something ancient and holy.
    
    They look at me, uncertainty tainting their usually confident eyes. 
    
    I smile widely. 
    
    'Don't worry, it's the Twins!' I say with my gaze, for my tongue betrays me. I can't speak.
    
    *fake_choice
        #Try to take Camilla's hand and dance.
            Her eyes widen when I take her hand, she stumbles and looks at me as if I've lost my mind.
            
            She lets me hold her hand but firmly shakes her head. 
            
            [i]Don't stop dancing[/i]
            
            With a smile I let her go and continue dancing. She returns the smallest of smiles and remains near the bonfire, watching me.
            
            I smile. Happiness bursts inside my chest, almost ripping it open. 
            
            My body sways with the marching beat, my steps guided by Floyd's drum.
            
            With my eyes are half open I watch Camilla looking at me. She gives me another small smile.
        #Smile at Camilla and dance with Tinsae.
            I doubt she'd want to dance. 
            
            So, I give her a smile. Happiness bursts inside my chest, almost ripping it open. 
            
            My body sways with the marching beat, my steps guided by Floyd's drum. 
            
            Tinsae blossoms into a wide smile. We move our frames in sync.
            
            The Twins are here and they still love me.
        #Ignore her and dance.
            Happiness bursts inside my chest, almost ripping it open. My body sways with the marching beat, my steps guided by Floyd's drum.
            
            The Twins are here and they still love me.
            
    [i]Don't stop[/i]
    
*if samhain_niall
    Niall stops dancing and looks at me. 'Can you feel that?', he asks without words.
    
    Of course I can feel that! He senses it, too.
    
    Something magnificent. Something ancient and holy.
    
    [i]Don't stop dancing.[/i]
    
    The beat of the drum rushes my step to continue.
    
    *fake_choice
        #Take his hand and continue dancing.
            I take his hand and give him a smile. Happiness bursts inside my chest, almost ripping it open. 
            
            This is not the time to stop dancing.
            
            He gives a little nod of his own and squeezes my hand lightly. He doesn't let go. We dance hand in hand with my heart happy for the first time in months. 
            
            I smile at him. And he smiles back to me. 
            
            I pant as beads of sweat start running down my forehead.
        #Let him take my hand.
            He takes my hand, as if looking for reassurance, and I give him a confident smile.
            
            This is not the time to stop dancing.
            
            He gives a little smile of his own and squeezes my hand lightly. He doesn't let go. We dance hand in hand with my heart happy for the first time in months. 
            
            I find myself smiling. And he smiles back to me.
        #Just keep dancing.
            Happiness bursts inside my chest, almost ripping it open. 
            
            This is not the time to stop dancing.
            
    [i]Don't stop[/i]

*page_break
Once the glimmers of sunrise begin to paint the sky pink, it's time to leave. My feet ache and my clothes are glued to my skin. The spirits are content for the night.

Only one sentence keeps plaguing my mind:

I didn't see him. I didn't see father.

*if samhain_marcus 
    Once the bonfire died, Marcus offered to escort me back to the barracks.
    
    *fake_choice
        #I didn't have the will and energy to cuss him off so I accepted.
            With a deep sigh and a shake of my head I start walking towards the barracks. 
            
            We walk in silence, for which I'm grateful for. So much has happened. My eyelids feel as heavy as I step.
            
            However, there's something that didn't happen, even if my heart yearned for it. Disappointment coats my mind, making me bite my lip.
        #I cussed him off, he called me a moron, yet for some reason, he walks beside me.
            I sigh. "Why do you keep following me?"
            
            "I'm following you? Oh please."
            
            I'm too tired for any further quarreling and he seems to notice it. At least he falls silent. 
            
            Disappointment coats my mind, making me bite my lip.
        #I ignored him, yet there he is. Walking beside me.
    
    Marcus's voice irks me further: "What is it?"

    *fake_choice
        #"Why won't you sod off and leave me alone?"
            *set rude +1
            "You keep saying that."
            
            "You don't listen to me."
            
            "We have the same destination. How awkward would it be if we walked the same direction but didn't interact?"
            
            "I would cherish every moment I don't have to talk with you."
            
            "You're breaking my heart."
            
            "Good."
        #"I'm disappointed."
            *set manipulative -1
            "With what?"
            
            *fake_choice
                #"Nothing."
                    He squints his eyes at me. "It looks like you're disappointed."
                    
                    "I'm not."
                    
                    "Uh-huh."
                #"I wanted to see someone."
                    He frowns. "Who?"
                    
                    Why would I tell about it to him? Of all people? "None of your business."
                    
                    He mutters something to himself and we keep walking in heavy silence.
                *selectable_if (marcus_dancer) #"With your dance performance."
                    "Bah! If you're trying to embarrass me, it's not working."
                    
                    However, there's a tint of redness creeping into the tips of his ears. I would've missed it if the first rays of sunshine didn't give it away.
                    
                    Ha. At least embarrassing him made me feel a little better.
                    
                    "Hehe."
                    
                    "Are you laughing at me?" He frowns. Yet, there's also something something lingering behind his words. Like he's happy about something.
        #Remain silent.

    Our steps echo in the silent forest. Not a soul lingers behind to see the first sunlight. The forest is empty, save for a few birds starting their morning rituals.
    *page_break What's that?
    *goto samhain_father

*if samhain_niall
    Once the bonfire died, Niall offered to escort me back to the barracks. He didn't take no for an answer, probably because he's still unnerved to enter the forest by himself. He said that he didn't want me to be afraid by myself.
    
    Not a soul lingers behind to see the first sunlight. The forest is empty, save for a few birds starting their morning rituals.
    
    Disappointment must've seeped from my face, since Niall asks:
    
    "What's wrong?"
    
    *fake_choice
        #"I wanted to see someone."
            He falls silent, his gaze inspecting my features with intensity. Then, as if he was gathering courage, he asks: "Can I ask who?"
            
            I sigh. I'm not sure if I want to share it with him.
            
            *fake_choice
                #"My father. He was killed by Romans."
                    *set niall_father_truth true
                    He stops in his tracks, a frown tainting his features. "What?"
                    
                    I nod with vengeance. "The very Romans you're being so cozy with." I'm taking my disappointment out on him. He deserves it.
                    
                    "I… didn't know."
                    
                    There's nothing else to say on my part. I keep walking. 
                    
                    "Wait! I…"
                    
                    "No. I've said enough."
                #"I'd prefer not to tell."
                    "Of course. You don't have to."
                #"None of your business."
                    He nods. "I didn't mean to pry."
        #"None of your business."
            He nods. "I didn't mean to pry."
        #Remain silent.
            "I didn't mean to pry."
    *page_break What's that?
    *goto samhain_father
*if samhain_quinn
    Once the bonfire died, Quinn offered to escort me back to the barracks. $!{q_he} didn't take no for an answer.
    
    *fake_choice
        #$!{q_he} offered ${q_his} hand. I accepted.
            $!{q_his} hand is cold against my skin as ${q_he} guides me through the forest. $!{q_his} step is light and quick, ${q_he} has no trouble leading us along the frail trail made my animals.
        #$!{q_he} offered ${q_his} hand. I declined.
            I walk next to ${q_him} with my mind elsewhere. It was an eventful night. 
            
    Our steps echo in the silent forest. Not a soul lingers behind to see the first sunlight. The forest is empty, save for a few birds starting their morning rituals.
    *page_break What's that?
    *goto samhain_father   
    
*if samhain_tinsae
    Once the bonfire died, Tinsae asked if we could walk together to the barracks. 
    
    *fake_choice
        #I didn't mean to accept her offer but once she wandered in the wrong direction, I had to.
            She follows me in silence and I slow my pace for her. I move quicker than her along the frail trail made by animals. Her shoes are made for walking in the cobblestone and sand roads.
        #I accepted her offer and took her hand.
            It's to make sure that she doesn't get lost in the forest. Besides, I move quicker than her along the frail trail made by animals. Her shoes are made for walking in the cobblestone and sand roads.
            
            Her skin is soft and warm against mine. She squeezes tightly from time to time, apparently trying to save herself from falling.
        #I accepted her offer and she took my hand.
            I didn't find a will to take my hand back. She lets me lead, I move quicker than her along the frail trail made by animals. Her shoes are made for walking in the cobblestone and sand roads.
            
            Her skin is soft and warm against mine. She squeezes tightly from time to time, apparently trying to save herself from falling.
        #I accepted her offer.
            She follows me in silence and I slow my pace for her. I move quicker than her along the frail trail made by animals. Her shoes are made for walking in the cobblestone and sand roads.
            
    Our steps echo in the silent forest. Not a soul lingers behind to see the first sunlight. The forest is empty, save for a few birds starting their morning rituals.
    *page_break What's that?
    *goto samhain_father

*if samhain_camilla
    Camilla started walking towards the barracks once the bonfire died.
    
    Tinsae purses her lips and looks after her friend. Then, she turns to me. "I hope you don't mind. She received bad news."

    "About her family?"
    
    She nods, pain tensing the line of her jaw. "Yes. But it's her decision if she wants to tell you more about that."
    
    We start walking towards Camilla, whose pace begins to slow down. In the end, we walk side by side.
            
    Our steps echo in the silent forest. Not a soul lingers behind to see the first sunlight. The forest is empty, save for a few birds starting their morning rituals.
    *page_break What's that?
    *goto samhain_father
   
*label samhain_father
I stop in my tracks, my gaze caught by something moving away from us. 

It's a spirit. The last of its kind for the night.

I follow its slow pace with my gaze, its wobbling and uncertain step. The spirit glides across the frosted ground, its outline almost invisible.

Then, my mind focuses. It's holding its head underneath its armpit.

Just like Kegan told me. Is that…

I frown. No. I don't want to be disappointed.

But if it is…

Please.
*page_break

Father?" I aim the question at the receding figure, not daring to run after him. Maybe any sudden movement would scare him away.
        
The spirit doesn't answer, but he does stop moving.
        
With my heart pounding in my throat, I wait.
        
He turns to me and raises his head. The eyes that look at me are wide open and glassy. Sorrow taints them.

There is so much sorrow in the very eyes that used to be so joyous. The eyes look at me. 

My lips are dry and my throat coarse when I say: "Father…" 

The eyes focus. They focus on me. Do they… 

recognize me?

*page_break I hold my breath.

Silence.

A dim brightness floods into his dead eyes, making them alive. Hope rises within me.

He opens his mouth.

I reach for him. "Father."

*page_break He disappears.

I'm left hanging my hand in the air, as if there was nothing. 

He's gone.

He…

*if samhain_niall
    *goto samhain_niall_father
*if samhain_marcus
    *goto samhain_marcus_father
*if samhain_tinsae
    *goto samhain_tinsae_father
*if samhain_camilla
    *goto samhain_camilla_father
*if samhain_quinn
    *goto samhain_quinn_father

*label samhain_niall_father
Niall appears next to me, his face confused as he looks at the spot where father disappeared.

*choice
    #Stay away from me.
        He takes a step towards me. "Hati, do you—"
        
        "No." I firmly shake my head. No. I don't need him to comfort me. I don't need anyone. 
        
        I will manage on my own. Stay away from me.
        
        He stops in his tracks, his features expressing pure feebleness. I don't care if you don't know how to act!
        
        I don't care. Stay away from me.
        
        My breathing is quickened as I look at the spot where father was.
        
        "Hati? Do you need a—"
        
        A hug?
        
        *choice
            #"No."
                *goto niall_begone
            #Maybe...
                *goto c4_niall_hug
    #"That was my father."
        My voice almost gets stuck in my throat. It pains to say it. It pains to admit that the man with his had severed is someone I used laugh with. Someone whose voice soothed my mind, to whose words I clinged to.
        
        When will I forget how he sounded like?
        
        When will I forget his scent?
        
        I take a deep, shaky breath.
        
        "Hati. Do you need—?"
        
        A hug?
        
        *choice
            #"No."
                *goto niall_begone
            #Maybe...
                *goto c4_niall_hug


*label c4_niall_hug
I find myself buried into his arms. I inhale sharply, my hazy self barely registering what's happening. My mind is on my father, his dead eyes, his severed head underneath his armpit. His dilated pupils when he saw me. He did see me.

He recognized me.

All the while Niall's strong arms hold me firmly in place.

*fake_choice
    #Don't say anything.
        The beat of his heart next to my ear lulls my hectic mind. My eyes soon close on their own.
        
        "Shhh." He breathes against my hair.
        
        His grip is relaxed, as if he's making sure I know that I can leave whenever I want to. But…
        
        I don't want to.
        
        Why does he feel so good this close to me? Like I could fall asleep in his embrace. Like I needed him there.
        
        I'm too tired to care what's the answer to all those questions.
        
        All I know is that his touch manages to chase away the image of father's severed head.
    #"No... Go away." I don't want him to go away. Please don't go away. I don't want to be alone.
        "Are you sure?" He asks against my hair, his breath warming my skin. 
        
        "I…" No. I'm not. 
        
        The beat of his heart next to my ear lulls my hectic mind. My eyes soon close on their own.
        
        "Go away," I whisper against his
        *if height = "tall"
            hair.
        *if ((height = "average") or (height = "short"))
            chest.
            
        "Shhh." He relaxes his grip, making sure I know that I can leave whenever I want to. But…
        
        I don't want to.
        
        Why does he feel so good this close to me? Like I could fall asleep in his embrace. Like I needed him there.
        
        I'm too tired to care what's the answer to all those questions.
        
        All I know is that his touch manages to chase away the image of father's severed head.
    #Break free from the hug angrily.
        "No! Let me go!"
        
        He lets me go quickly with his eyes widened. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats but doesn't stop looking at me. He's flustered, yet doesn't look away.
        
        "I'm here. If you need me."
        
        I shake my head. "No. No hugging."
        
        "I understand. Please. I didn't mean to."
        
        I take a shaky breath and look away with my arms around me.
    #Break free form the hug. I'm still too confused.
        He must've noticed my bewilderment, since he lets me go quickly.
        
        "I'm sorry," he says, but he's still looking at me. He doesn't look away. He lets me know that he's there if I—
        
        "No. I don't need you. I don't. I need to…"
        
        "Please. If there's anything you need."
        
        I firmly shake my head. No.
*goto niall_begone

*label niall_begone
"I want to be alone now," I say.

Niall nods. "Oh. Of course. If there's anything—"

I shake my head.

"I understand." Still, he lingers. He doesn't leave. 

"Please. Just… let me think about this. Alone."

"I… Yes." It clearly pains him to leave me alone, but I don't care.

He walks away slowly, giving me a chance to change my mind. I won't. 

I close my eyes and breathe. Weariness weighs heavy on my limbs. At least it's silent.

However, a voice disturbs the air:

"Hati? Was that your—?"

Marcus. He saw him.
*page_break
*goto samhain_marcus_father2

*label samhain_tinsae_father
"Hati?" Tinsae's voice rings softly in my ears. The lantern in her hand illuminates her sorrowful features. She opens her mouth as she looks at the space where father was. Then, she whispers: 

"I'm so sorry. I'm so… sorry."

*fake_choice
    #It seems that my cheeks are wet with tears.
        I give her a nod, not fully able to compose my raging thoughts.
        
        I touch my cheek, only to notice that the tips of my fingers now glisten with tears. 
        
        Oh. I'm crying. I didn't even notice.
        
        The images of his severed head overflows my mind. The vision of his dead eyes looking at me. His dilated pupils when he saw me. 
        
        He recognized me.
    #Stand up with my head held high. I don't need anyone to comfort me.
        I take a stabilizing breath. It makes the pressure in my chest only tighten. There's the flood of emotions trying to overflow my mind.
        
        But I stifle them. I suffocate them.
        
        I don't have time for them. I will not be a slave to them.
        
        "Hati? I—"
        
        "No." I clench my jaw. I will keep it in. Otherwise the images of his dead eyes, his severed head, his—
        
        They're trying to take over me. But I won't let them.
    #"I... thank you," I say, my voice ringing weird in my ears. I'm oddly calm.
        I don't know why I'm thanking her. The words escape me before I can think.
    #Remain silent.

"Can I?" She asks, apparently meaning to hug me.

*fake_choice
    #Shake my head. But a part of me does want to be hugged.
        "Are you sure?" She takes a step closer to me, feeling my reaction.
        
        "I…" I don't say anything and find myself in her embrace.
        
        The sweet scent of nuts and flowers floods my mind, diminishing the violent power of the images of father's dead eyes. It takes the edges off.
        
        She breathes against my
        *if height = "tall"
            shoulder, warming my skin.
        *if ((height = "average") or (height = "short"))
            hair, warming my scalp.
        
        "You are so strong," she whispers. "You've endured so much."
        
        As the words come out of her mouth, I melt even more into her touch. If she thinks I'm strong, perhaps I am. Perhaps I could believe her.
        
        We stay put for a good while. There's only pain in my heart, but her skin against mine manages to numb it. All I hear is her steady breathing and a few birds chirping to each other on a nearby tree.
        
        Then, I retreat her touch. She looks after me with a slight smile, ready to welcome me back if I needed it.
    #Nod.
        Before I can think any better, I give her a nod.
        
        And soon I find myself in her embrace. The sweet scent of nuts and flowers floods my mind, diminishing the violent power of the images of father's dead eyes. It takes the edges off.
        
        She breathes against my
        *if height = "tall"
            shoulder, warming my skin.
        *if ((height = "average") or (height = "short"))
            hair, warming my scalp.
        
        "You are so strong," she whispers. "You've endured so much."
        
        As the words come out of her mouth, I melt even more into her touch. If she thinks I'm strong, perhaps I am. Perhaps I could believe her.
        
        We stay put for a good while. There's only pain in my heart, but her skin against mine manages to numb it. All I hear is her steady breathing and the few birds looking at us from afar.
        
        Then, I retreat her touch. She looks after me with a slight smile, ready to welcome me back if I needed it.
    #Shake my head.
        No. No. I don't want that right now. 
        
        She nods with an understanding smile. "Of course. Please, if you need anything…"
        
        I shake my head. There's nothing I need that she can give me right now. I need… space.

"Hati…"
        
*fake_choice
    #Tell her my real name.
        *set tinsae_trust +1
        *set tinsae_true_name true
        My fake name rings weird in the air. Like it doesn't belong.
        
        For whatever reason, I don't want to hear my fake name from her lips.
        
        "My name is not Hati."
        
        The information doesn't faze her. She simply asks: "What is it?"
        
        "${name}."
        
        "${name}…" A soft smile appears on her features as she nods. "That is a beautiful name."
        
        She raises her hand towards me, asking me to let her touch my face.
        
        *fake_choice
            #Shake my head.
                She nods and retreats her hand, but not before giving me another smile.
            #Stay put and let her touch my face.
                Her touch is like silk. She looks me deep into my eyes, a part of me afraid she sees into my soul.
                
                I breathe in, leaning into her touch. Once the exhale escapes me, I close my eyes.
                
        "Thank you for telling me."
    #Don't tell her. I'm not ready to share my real name.
        I let the fake name linger in the air, not sure how I feel about it.
    #Don't tell her. I'm comfortable with my name.
        *set new_name true
        Hati is fitting. I suppose I've grown used to it. I'm not sure if I want to be called as anything else.

She gives me another sad smile, making me more self-conscious about the situation.

*fake_choice
    #A part of me wants to be with her.
        But there's something about depending on her. I'm not ready.
        
        "I want to be alone now," I say, despite my feelings.
    #I just want to be alone.
        I really just need time to think.

Tinsae furrows her brows. "I would hate to leave you like this."

I shake my head.

She gives me a little nod. "Of course, if that is what you want." She extends her hand to me.

*fake_choice
    #Squeeze it.
        I give my hand. She squeezes it lightly and looks me in the eyes, as if making sure that I'm confident in my request.
    #Shake my head.

"Please. Just… let me think about this. Alone."

"If you need anything, you can always come knocking on my door."

She leaves, but not before giving me a final reassuring smile. 

I close my eyes and try to collect myself. However, before I can do that, there's another voice that disturbs the silence:

"Hati? Was that your—?"

Marcus. He saw him.
*page_break
*goto samhain_marcus_father2

*label samhain_quinn_father
"${name}?" Quinn's voice makes me blink. I turn to ${q_him}, ${q_his} face a bit blurry.

"He found you." There's a sad smile on ${q_his} face. "He was looking for you and he found you."

I nod. He did.

*fake_choice
    #My cheeks seem to be wet with tears.
        I give ${q_him} a nod, not fully able to compose my raging thoughts.
        
        I touch my cheek, only to notice that the tips of my fingers now glisten with tears. 
        
        Oh. I'm crying. I didn't even notice.
        
        The images of his severed head overflows my mind. The vision of his dead eyes looking at me. His dilated pupils when he saw me. 
        
        He recognized me.
        
        Then, I realize that Quinn has taken me into ${q_his} arms, burying ${q_his} head into my
        *if height = "tall"
            chest
        *if ((height = "average") or (height = "short"))
            hair, warming my scalp with ${q_his} breath.
            
        $!{q_he} squeezes me tightly as the tears still fall. 
        
        He was there. I could almost touch him.
        
        "He loved you so much," ${q_he} whispers. "He loved everything about you. He looked at you with so much pride. It glistened in his eyes like stars."
        
        Perhaps he did. It makes the pressure in my chest only tighten. The feeling of happiness, of sadness, of anger… everything battles in my chest, making it feel so heavy.
    #I look away, trying my best to control my emotions.
        I take a stabilizing breath. It makes the pressure in my chest only tighten. There's the flood of emotions trying to overflow my mind.
        
        But I stifle them. I suffocate them.
        
        I don't have time for them. I will not be a slave to them.
        
        "${name}? Please don't keep it in."
        
        "I will." I clench my jaw. I will keep it in. Otherwise the images of his dead eyes, his severed head, his—
        
        They're trying to take over me. But I won't let them.
        
        "${name}. Please."
        
        "No. Don't." I shy away from ${q_his} erected hand. I need to collect myself.
    #I need a hug.
        A breath of air leaves me as Quinn takes me into ${q_his} arms. $!{q_he} buries ${q_his} head into my
        *if height = "tall"
            chest, nuzzling it, warming it with ${q_his} presence.
        *if ((height = "average") or (height = "short"))
            hair, warming my scalp with ${q_his} breath.
            
        Father was there. I could almost touch him.
        
        The images of his severed head overflows my mind. The vision of his dead eyes looking at me. His dilated pupils when he saw me.
        
        He recognized me.
        
        "He loved you so much," ${q_he} whispers. "He loved everything about you. He looked at you with so much pride. It glistened in his eyes like stars."
        
        Perhaps he did. It makes the pressure in my chest only tighten. The feeling of happiness, of sadness, of anger… everything battles in my chest, making it feel so heavy.
        
"Why did he disappear?"
        
Quinn lightly shakes ${q_his} head. "I don't know. Maybe he didn't have any more strength."

I nod, disappointed. Not with father for not having strength, but in me, for not being able to help him.

"It wasn't your fault. You will see him again. I promise you that."

"How can you?"

"I will." There's certainty in ${q_his} gaze. It almost makes me believe ${q_him}.

*page_break

I shake my head. "I want to be alone."

$!{q_he} nods without hesitation. Of course ${q_he}'d know what I want. Probably before I even know it myself.

"If you need anything…," ${q_he} says. 

I give ${q_him} a nod and with that, ${q_he}'s gone.

I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing. Weariness weighs heavy on my limbs. I'm so tired. At least it's quiet.

However, a voice disturbs the air:

"Hati? Was that your—?"

Marcus. He saw him.
*page_break
*goto samhain_marcus_father2

*label samhain_camilla_father
From the corner of my eye I see Camilla appearing next to me, her gaze resting on the spot where father was. Tinsae follows her step, her gaze firmly on me.

"Hati, I'm so sorry," Tinsae says and I find myself nodding in agreement.

We stand in silence, looking at the spot where he disappeared. Camilla's lantern's flickering light illuminates the darkness only barely, but from the corner of my eye I see no sneer on her face.

Finally, I feel her gaze on me. I turn to look at her, only to confirm that there's not a trace of a sneer. Her features are neutral, at best, but her eyes are softer than usual.

*fake_choice
    #"That was my father."
        I find myself saying that. Camilla nods, giving me time to continue my thought, if needed. 
        
        I'm not sure if there's anything more to say.
        
        Then, the accusation leaves my lips before I can stop it: "He was killed by you. The Romans."
        
        Tinsae flinches, but doesn't say anything. Camilla nods and remains silent.
               
        The forest is empty. There's not a soul here. My gaze lingers on the darkness.
        
        Then, a small, steady voice breaks the silence: "I'm sorry."
        
        I turn to Camilla. She repeats: "I'm sorry."
        
        *fake_choice
            #"You should be."
                It wasn't her but… But she could use her influence. She could do something. 
                
                She gives me another nod.
            #"Thank you."
                It feels weird to thank her. Yet, the words leave me before I can think. She did just lose her own father, yet she's consoling me.
                
                She gives me a nod.
            #Remain silent.
    #It seems that my cheeks are wet with tears.
        I touch my skin. My gaze rests on my fingers, glistening with tears. 
        
        It takes a moment to realize that Camilla has turned to me.
        
        She shows me a piece of cloth.
        
        *fake_choice
            #Take it.
                "Thank you."
                
                She nods. 
            #Refuse it.
                She nods.
            #Is she meaning to wipe my tears away?
                I wait, looking at her.
                
                Without a word, she brings the cloth to my skin, and begins to wipe my tears away. She looks me in the eyes the whole time. 
                
                "I…"
                
                She shakes her head.
    #Remain silent.

After a moment of silence, she says: "My father was murdered, too," she says. There's no emotion in her features but her voice cracks just a little, I would've probably missed it if I didn't expect to hear it. "I'm waiting for news about the rest of my family."

Was he the one who was fed to the lions?

She falls silent, giving me no further information. I suppose I don't need anything more.

*fake_choice
    #Touch her hand.
        I lightly take her hand, half-expecting she'll yank it away. 
        
        Her body stiffens but for my surprise, she remains still.
        
        She holds her hand in mine, her skin cold and slightly coarse.
        
        That's how we stand for a while, hand in hand, both of us too deep in grief to speak.
        
        The images of father's severed head race through my mind. The vision of his dead eyes looking at me. His dilated pupils when he saw me.
        
        He recognized me.
        
        The memory makes my body twitch involuntarily. It makes Camilla squeeze my hand a little tighter, as if to bring me back to the here and now. To escape my own head.
        
        I almost thank her.
        *page_break
        Eventually, Camilla lets go of my hand. "I'd like to go home," she says, half whispering, looking at both Tinsae and I with drooping eyelids. She's exhausted.
        
        I can't exactly blame her. However…
        
        I'm not ready to go yet.
        *page_break
    #Tinsae gives us both a hug.
        Before neither of us can react, Tinsae takes us both into her embrace.
        
        The smell of nuts and flowers smooths my mind as she squeezes the two of us tightly against her. Even if her palm holds my shoulder tightly, I could wiggle away if I wanted to. 
        
        However, I'm not sure if I want to.
        
        "I'm so, so sorry for both of you," she whispers.
        
        Camilla doesn't try to flee from the embrace. She stays still, even lightly leaning into Tinsae's touch.
       
        *fake_choice
            #Lean into her touch, too.
                I find myself wanting to be closer to the warmth both of them radiate. I close my eyes and focus on Tinsae's heartbeat, nuzzling even closer to her.
                
                That's how he stand there for a good while: in Tinsae's warm embrace.
                
                Then, Camilla's breathing starts to sound a little too deep. It's as if…
                
                Tinsae looks at her, then turns to me with a smile on her face. "She fell asleep."
                
                It's true: Camilla leans heavily against Tinsae with her eyes closed. She barely manages to remain standing, it's only because Tinsae is keeping her upright that she doesn't collapse on the ground.
                
                *fake_choice
                    #Poke her awake.
                        I can't help it. I have to do it.
                        
                        Her guards are down and I have to do it.
                        
                        I give Tinsae a little look, apologizing for what I'm about to do. She furrows her brows, but she has no time to react.
                        
                        I'm already poking Camilla's soft cheek. My finger sinks into her skin and Camilla's eyes fly open.
                        
                        "What the—" 
                        
                        I retreat just in time.
                        
                        Camilla frowns. "You little shit," she whispers, still half-asleep. 
                        
                        I give her an innocent smile, almost followed by a chuckle that I manage to stifle just in time.
                        
                        The smile on my face lingers and I find myself grateful for the company.
                        
                        *page_break
                        However, when Tinsae and Camilla starts leaving back to the barracks, I shake my head. 
                    #Look at her.
                        She must be exhausted. I look at her peaceful features; her expressionless face is arguably more pleasant to look at than her usual scowling one.
                        
                        Suddenly, her eyes fly open. "I wasn't sleeping!" 
                        
                        "Of course you weren't," Tinsae shushes against her hair and gives us both a little peck on our heads. "Now, I think we should go to home. You're both exhausted."
                        
                        I find myself pursing my lip. I'm not ready to go, yet.
                        *page_break
            #Remain silent and motionless.
                With my mind in chaos I just stand against her.
        
                The images of father's severed head race through my mind. The vision of his dead eyes looking at me. His dilated pupils when he saw me.
        
                He recognized me.
                
                The memory makes my body twitch involuntarily. It makes Tinsae squeeze my shoulder a little tighter.
                *page_break
                Finally, Tinsae gives us both a little peck on our heads. "Now, I think we should go to home. You're both exhausted."
                        
                I find myself pursing my lip. I'm not ready to go yet.
    #Remain still and silent. I need to be alone.
        There's nothing to say. My heart is heavy, my mind a blur. I find myself unwilling to communicate with anyone at this point.

"I want to be alone," I say.

Camilla peers at me. But then, she simply says with a firm nod: "Of course." 

Tinsae furrows her brows. "I would hate to leave you like this."

She waits for me to change my mind, yet this is what I want. I don't want to go to the barracks yet. 

I want to be here, where he was. I… perhaps I want him to reappear. Perhaps he would stay, if there was no audience.

Finally, after much hesitation on Tinsae's part, I'm left alone. 

I close my eyes and breathe, trying to control my chaotic mind. However, there's another voice that disturbs the silence:

"Hati? Was that your—?"

Marcus. He saw him.
*page_break
*goto samhain_marcus_father2

*label samhain_marcus_father
I just realize that Marcus is standing next to me. 

Every hair in my body rises by the sound of his breathing. That's all I can hear. 

His breathing, when he made sure father would never breathe again.
*goto samhain_marcus_father2

*label samhain_marcus_father2

I dart my gaze to him, shutting him up. The torch he's holding illuminates his sharp, uncharacteristically nervous features.

*choice
    #"Yes. The man you killed," I state and look him in the eyes.
        The words are more emotionless than I expected. It's a statement as much as it's an accusation.
        
        I look at him. The man who killed my family. My father. He's the one who raised the sword. Who—
        
        He looks away.
        
        "I—" He says. I don't wait for him to say anything more, yet he does.
        
        "I'm sorry."
        *goto ch4_marcus_sorry
    #"You killed him."
        "I… know. I'm…" He stammers. He should. 
        
        I look at him. The man who killed my family. My father. He's the one who raised the sword. Who—
        
        He looks away.
        
        "I—" He says. I don't wait for him to say anything more, yet he does.
        
        "I'm sorry."
        *goto ch4_marcus_sorry
    #"You have no right to talk."
        "I… know. But if you'd—"
        
        "No."
        
        "I'm sorry." 
        *goto ch4_marcus_sorry
    #Remain silent and stare at him.
        I look at him. The man who killed my family. My father. He's the one who raised the sword. Who—
        
        He looks away.
        
        "I—" He says. I don't wait for him to say anything more, yet he does.
        
        "I'm sorry."
        *page_break
        *goto ch4_marcus_silence

*label ch4_marcus_silence
I shake my head. He's sorry.

As if I'd believe that.

*choice
    #Confront him.
        *goto ch4_marcus_sorry
    #Remain silent.
        I say nothing to him. I refuse to spend any more energy on him. I'm done.
        
        He raises his gaze to look at me. "I…"
        
        I shake my head. "I think you've said enough."
                
        "What is going on here?"
        *page_break
        *goto samhain_not_today

*label ch4_marcus_sorry
"You're… sorry," I spit the words out. I don't think I ever expected him to apologize. Not that it matters. I would never forgive him.

I shake my head. "No. You don't get to be sorry."

He nods. He mustn't have expected me to forgive him. Of course I wouldn't. He must've asked for forgiveness to smooth his own ego. 

All these months… To have been so close to the man who killed him. To have been bullied by him.

*choice
    #I want to be mad at him. I want to hate him. Yet...
        I bite my lip and the taste of copper spreads through my mouth. I want to hate him.
        
        I want to want him to suffer. But there's something protesting against the idea. Why?
        
        He flinches when I dart my gaze at him, accusing him of my own hesitation.
        *goto samhain_marcus_softer
    #I hate that I can't think of killing him. I want to kill him, yet...
        I want to see him die. I want him to stop existing. Yet…
        
        I don't know. I hate this!
        *goto samhain_marcus_softer
    #I should just kill him.
        However, Floyd and Kegan did see us. That's a problem. It's not believable that the great Centurion would just disappear into a familiar forest without a trace.
        
        "What are you going to do?" He asks, fully knowing that I could kill him. He's revealing his neck to me. His shoulders are relaxed and his gaze is unreadable. I can see his arteries pulsing with life. It would be all too easy to slice them open and watch him bleed out on the ground, to suffocate in his own blood. Oh, how his voice turn into a raspy mess of gurgles.
        
        His hand doesn't hover over his sword. But that doesn't mean he's not ready to strike. 
        
        However, there's something wrong. It's as if he's… accepting his fate.
        
        Is it a ruse? To make me attack him so he can finally kill me? Does he want to finish what he started?
        
        Then, he says:
        *goto samhain_marcus_harsh
    #"How dare you bully me after you've done?"
        His eyes are downcast as he says: "I don't know."
        
        "That's not good enough."
        
        "You're here to kill me. Should I just lie down and wait for the killing blow?"
        
        "So you choose to torture me, instead?"
        
        He shakes his head. "Don't be overdramatic."
        
        "Over—" I take a breath. No. There's nothing else to say. Just as I'm about to turn away, he says:
        *goto samhain_marcus_harsh
    #There's nothing else to say.
        I shake my head.
        
        "What's going on here?"
        *page_break
        *goto samhain_not_today

*label samhain_marcus_softer
"${name}," he says. "Please. Listen to me."

*fake_choice
    #Let him continue.
        I barely take note of the fact that he's using my real name. My breathing is shallow and quick as I wait for him to spout out whatever stupidity lies waiting in his mouth.
    #"I'm Hati to you."
        He wants to manipulate me by using my real name. I can see right through his schemes.
        
        He gives me a quick nod with an unreadable expression.
    #"You don't have the right use my real name."
        He wants to manipulate me by using my real name. I can see right through his schemes.
        
        He gives me a quick nod with an unreadable expression.

"I saw you in your hideout. When everything happened."
        
"You saw me?" I frown. "But… why didn't you alert the other murderers?" If he's speaking the truth, why wouldn't he do that? Why am I here, if that's the truth?
        
He frowns and looks away. "I… didn't feel like it."
        
"You…" I take a moment to process his words, my mind racing. "What does that even mean? You didn't feel like killing me?"
        
Still he looks away and repeats his unfathomable motive: "I didn't feel like it."
        
*fake_choice
    #"That's it?"
        "That's your reasoning? That's…" I have no words. Should I be grateful because he had his bloodlust quota fulfilled for the day?
        
        He tightens his jaw, the tendons on his neck prominent. He doesn't say anything more.
    #"That's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard in my entire life."
        He shakes his head, as if there's nothing else to say. That's it. 
        
        That's the reason why I'm alive. Because he didn't feel like killing me.
    #"I'm alive because you didn't feel like killing me?"
        "Well, yes…" He tightens his jaw, the tendons on his neck prominent.
        
        "Ha!" A small, incredulous laughter escapes me. He flinches, as if the sound startled him.
    #"But you felt like killing my father?"
        "I… no." He raises his gaze back to me. "I…"
        
        "You killed him. You felt like killing him."
        
        "I didn't feel anything."
        
        Every word that comes out of his mouth makes my blood boil. Is he serious? 
        
"What is going on here?"
*page_break
*goto samhain_not_today

*label samhain_marcus_harsh
"Why do you think you're alive?"

"What?"

"You would've died here on day one, if not for me. They would've found you out and killed you on the spot."

"I didn't—"

"You would've died during the attack, too. I saw you in your hideout."

I frown. In my hideout?

He nods. "Your eyes were filled with the same hatred you're showing now." He looks at me, straight into my eyes. Then, he looks away.
        
Is this another one of his ruses? "If you're speaking the truth." That is not given. "Then why am I alive? Why didn't you just alert the other murderers? Why didn't you let me die on day one?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, as if he's trying to stop himself from smiling. "I wanted to see what you would do."

He… wanted to see what I would do. He 'saved' my life to see what I would do after he killed my family.

"That's your reasoning?"

"Do you want me to say that I did it for the goodness of my heart?" He smirks. Just lightly, but it's there. The sight of it makes my blood boil.

*fake_choice
    #"You're brave to smirk like that when I could just kill you."
        The bud of a smirk turns into a smile. "I'm just happy that you're open about your feelings."
    
        "What? You're eager to see if I'd kill you? Do you want that?"
    
        "Hm." He shrugs. "I already told you my reasoning. Now it's your turn."
    #I hate that smirk. I wish I could just punch it out of his face.
        The bud of a smirk turns into a smile. "Don't you wish you could just kill me?"
    
        "Shut up."
    
        "I see it. You want it."
    
        "Do you want to die? Is this your elaborate suicide?"
    
        "Hm. Who knows." He shrugs. "Don't you hate my guts? Don't you want to penetrate my stomach with you sword? To watch me bleed on the ground to dead."
        
        "I—"
    #"I wouldn't believe it. You have no heart."
        He nods. "Given that I have no heart, curiosity is the most logical explanation."
        
        I suppose so. He hasn't shown any interest in killing me. He even saved my life during the health inspection.
        
        So, he's just curious to see if I could kill him? Or what I would do with the life that he so generously 'granted' to me.
    #Remain silent.
        It takes everything to keep calm under his smirking gaze. 
    #"So you were just bored? After killing my family."
        There's a flinch. Then, he says: "No, I wasn't. I…" He seems to be searching for words.
        
        I wait for more, but he gives none.
        
        "That's it? No?"
        
        "I… have nothing else to say."
    #I don't know what to think about this. I'm tired.

He just wanted to see what I'd do. That's why I'm alive.
        
No. I refuse to believe that. I'm alive because…

*fake_choice
    #Because of me.
        It was me who crawled out of my destroyed village.
        
        It was me who chose to come here.
        *if hatred = "manipulated"
            Hesitation lingers behind my mind. Was it really me? 
            
            Who else could it have been? It was me. 
    #Because of the Twins.
        They helped me to get out of there. I don't know why they wouldn't help my family but… 
        
        Perhaps because they want me to avenge them.
        
        I can do that. I will do that.
    #Because of my father.
        He saved me. He kept me safe, he distracted the Romans.
        
        He's the reason I'm alive.

I'm not alive because of that murderer.

*choice
    #I will kill him.
        *set marcus_killer_samhain true
        I unsheathe my sword in a slow, deliberate movement and look at him straight into his eyes. 
            
        [i]I will kill you.[/i]
            
        Certainty fills the air.
            
        He raises his chin, still refusing to do the same with his sword.
            
        Do it. Attack me. What are you waiting for?
        
        *fake_choice
            #I don't want to kill him if he doesn't defend himself.
                *set marcus_honorable_death true
                I hesitate, looking at the sword on his hips.
                
                He shakes his head. "I'm not raising my sword against you."
                
                "Is that supposed to be honorable?"
                
                "No."
            #I will kill him, no matter what.
                I ready myself for an attack. He gives me a nod.
                
        "What is going on here?"
        *goto die_marcus_die
    #No. I won't kill him.
        I hate him. Yet… I'm not going to kill him. Not right now.
        
        "Get out of here," I hiss through my teeth.
        
        "What is going on here?" A voice disturbs us.
        *goto samhain_not_today

*label die_marcus_die
With my sword raised at the man who killed my family and my clan, I dart my gaze at the intruder.
    
Floyd flinches and halts his step.
    
Marcus puts his hand on my shoulder, making a shudder run violently through my entire core. Just as I'm about to swat, or cut, his hand away, he lets go. He starts walking away as if nothing happened.

I look after him, squeezing the hilt of the sword.

*fake_choice
    #I will kill him. I will rip his head off so he can never grin again.
        "Hati?" Floyd says, drawing my attention to him. "Please don't do anything you'd regret."
            
        "I wouldn't have any regrets."
            
        "It's not worth it."
            
        "How do you know?"
            
        "It's not." 
            
        The words linger between us. 
            
        As I'm looking at Marcus's receding back, I feel Floyd's hand on my arm, lightly pushing it down. "Please…"
        
        *fake_choice
            #Lower my arm.
                I let him lower my arm, my gaze following the sword in my hand.
                    
                "Why?" I ask.
                    
                "Because I care."
                    
                I almost scoff at the words. Instead, I ask again: "Why?"
                    
                "Because."
                
                His touch is warm against my freezing arm.
                
                "I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you," he whispers.
                
                "What do you know about what's happened to me?"
                
                "I don't. But I've seen the hurt in your eyes. I'm so sorry."
                
                I let out a shaky breath. I'm sorry, too.
            #Yank my arm away from him.
                He looks at me, his hand left reaching for nothing. "I just don't want to see you hurting yourself."
                    
                "What do you care?"
                    
                "I do care."
                    
                "No."
                    
                He falls silent, retreating his hand back to him. "I'm sorry."
                    
                I shake my head. I don't need any apologizes. "Just leave me alone."
                
                And he does. Finally, he does leave me alone. The sound of his steps fades, leaving behind nothing but silence.
        
                I tighten the cloak around me and look at the spot father disappeared in.
        
                Eventually, the freezing morning drives me back to the barracks. The morning routines started without me, as if everything was normal.
    #Take my frustration out on Floyd.
        "Why did you stop me?!"
            
        "How could I not? They would've killed you for that!"
            
        "What do you care!"
            
        He takes a step towards me. "I care. I do care. Please."
        
        *fake_choice
            #Let him come closer.
                Why would he care? Why would anyone care if I died or didn't? At least I would take that grinning idiot with me.
                    
                I can feel Floyd's hand on my shoulder. I'm too tired to swat his hand away.
                
                "I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you," he whispers.
                
                "What do you know about what's happened to me?"
                
                "I don't. But I've seen the hurt in your eyes. I'm so sorry."
                
                I let out a shaky breath. I'm sorry, too.
            #Shake my head.
                No. Stay away. 
                
                And he does. Finally, he does leave me alone. The sound of his steps fades, leaving behind nothing but silence.
        
                I tighten the cloak around me and look at the spot father disappeared in.
        
                Eventually, the freezing morning drives me back to the barracks. The morning routines started without me, as if everything was normal.
    #Lower the sword.
        "Why did you stop me?"
        
        "They would kill you for that."
        
        "Why do you care?"
        
        "I do care." He takes a step towards me.
        
        *fake_choice
            #Let him come closer.
                Why would he care? Why would anyone care if I died or didn't?
                    
                I can feel Floyd's hand on my shoulder. I'm too tired to swat his hand away.
                
                "I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you," he whispers.
                
                "What do you know about what's happened to me?"
                
                "I don't. But I've seen the hurt in your eyes. I'm so sorry."
                
                I let out a shaky breath. I'm sorry, too.
            #Shake my head.
                No. Stay away. 
                
                And he does. Finally, he does leave me alone. The sound of his steps fades, leaving behind nothing but silence.
        
                I tighten the cloak around me and look at the spot father disappeared in.
        
                Eventually, the freezing morning drives me back to the barracks. The morning routines started without me, as if everything was normal.
            
*label samhain_not_today
It's the voice of Floyd.
    
Marcus looks at the intruder, his features unreadable. "Nothing. Nothing is going on." He doesn't look at me, he just leaves.
    
I'm left standing there.
    
Floyd's voice "Hati? Are you—"
    
"I'm fine."
    
"Are you sure?"

*fake_choice
    #Snap at him. "No. I'm not fine. What do you want to do with that information?"
        He doesn't even flinch at my words. Instead, he comes closer. "I'm sorry for what's happened to you."
        
        "What do you know about it? Nothing." He knows nothing and he acts as if he does.
        
        "I know enough. I know when I look at you. And I'm so sorry."
        
        He takes another step towards me.
        
        *choice
            #Let him come closer.
                I can feel Floyd's hand on my shoulder. I'm too tired to swat his hand away.
                
                "I'm sorry," he whispers.
                
                I let out a shaky breath. I'm sorry, too.
                *goto ch4_floyd_hug
            #Shake my head.
                "I just want to be alone."
                
                "But…"
                
                I give him a look and he stops talking.
                
                Leave me alone.
                *goto ch4_floyd_begone
    #"Yes. Leave me alone."
        *goto ch4_floyd_begone
        He hesitates but when I look at him, he nods. 
        
        Just leave me alone.
    #Nod. Just go away.
        *goto ch4_floyd_begone

*label ch4_floyd_begone
And he does. Finally, he does leave me alone. The sound of his footsteps fades, leaving behind nothing but silence.
        
I tighten the cloak around me and look at the spot father disappeared in.
        
Eventually, the freezing morning drives me back to the barracks. The morning routines started without me, as if everything was normal.
*goto ch4_dem_nuts_be_gone

*label ch4_floyd_hug
*goto ch4_dem_nuts_be_gone

*label ch4_dem_nuts_be_gone

*if samhain_quinn
    *goto_scene chapter_5
    
*page_break
[b][i]Next day[/i][/b]

As the sun rises and the spirits disappear for the night, I start walking towards the place where the hazel nuts were left. If the said nuts are still there, it means that 

My nut is still where I left it, however…

*if samhain_marcus
    Marcus's nut has disappeared. 
    
    He will die in a year.
    *fake_choice
        #Good news!
            A smile tugs at my lips. 
            
            Good. 
            
            This is good news.
        #Oh. This feels weird. I should feel happy.
            I frown at the space where the nut was supposed to be, confusion seething in my mind. Why am I not happy about the news?
            
            Why wouldn't I be happy about the thought of that idiot dying?
            
            Perhaps I'm just tired. It's been a long day.
            
            Yes. That makes sense.
        #That's good! Right?
            Yes! Excellent news. I can't wait for that idiot to perish already. 
            
            That's good news.
            
            Right? 
            
            Of course it is.
            
            We're all going to die. His time will just come sooner.
            
            And that's… good.
        #I don't know what to think.
            I frown at the space where the nut was supposed to be, unsure how to process this information.
            
            Perhaps I'm just tired. It's been a long day.
            
            Yes. That makes sense.
        
*if samhain_tinsae
    Tinsae's nut has disappeared.
    
    She will die in a year.
    
    *fake_choice
        #What? No.
            I frown at the space where the nut was supposed to be. That's not good.
            
            That's not good at all. 
            
            Well, perhaps the gods are not always in the right.
            
            Right?
        #I don't know what to think.
            I look at the spot where the nut was supposed to be, my mind blank.
            
            I wonder if this year will result in her death. 
            
            I do wonder.
        #I don't care.
            I shake my head. Who cares? 
            
            We're all going to die.
            
*if samhain_camilla
    Camilla's nut has disappeared.
    
    She will die in a year.
    
    *fake_choice
        #Good riddance.
            I smirk at the spot where the nuts was supposed to be. 
            
            Good. So many good news. 
        #I don't know what to think.
            I look at the spot where the nut was supposed to be, my mind blank.
            
            I wonder if this year will result in her death. 
            
            I do wonder.
        #Oh. For some reason I feel bad about this.
            I should be happy that her destiny is to die soon enough. However… Something doesn't feel right. 
            
            I wonder if this year will result in her death. 
            
            That doesn't feel as good as I thought it would.
        #I don't care.
            I shake my head. Who cares? 
            
            We're all going to die.
            
*if samhain_niall
    Niall's nut has disappeared.
    
    He will die in a year.
    
    *fake_choice
        #That's good!
            I smirk at the spot where the nuts was supposed to be. 
            
            Good. So many good news.
        #That's good! Right?
            Yes! That idiot will die.
            
            That's good news.
            
            Right? 
            
            Of course it is.
            
            We're all going to die. His time will just come sooner.
            
            And that's… good.
        #I don't know what to think.
            I look at the spot where the nut was supposed to be, my mind blank.
            
            I wonder if this year will result in his death. 
            
            I do wonder.
        #For some reason the thought makes me... not happy.
            This is weird. I should feel happy to know that he'll die soon enough. However, there's not a trace of joy within me. 
            
            I wonder if this year will result in his death. 
            
            That doesn't feel as good as I thought it would.
*goto_scene chapter_5