The most stressful days of the year at Fablehaven were the days just before the summer and spring solstices and spring and fall equinoxes. On the days leading up to the festival, the creatures around Fablehaven were always especially rowdy, and Dale also had a lot of work to do to provide some additional protections around the house. They all had work to do.
Years ago Dale had done a little bit of everything. He'd helped Stan to reign in the extremely rowdy creatures. He'd recruited fairies for the fairy lanterns with Lena. He and Ruth would go around the yard and make sure that anything that could be used as a weapon, or something that could compromise them, was brought inside.
Years ago though they'd all realized just how much of a natural he was at carving out Jack-o-lanterns for the fairy lanterns to stay in. He could easily carve out hundreds of pumpkins, which was good, because using fairy lanterns was one of the most important precautions they took on festival night.
While Dale was good at carving, he'd never been very good at pulling out the slimy guts. He didn't mind the slimy guts, he was used to getting his hands dirty, he just wasn't very quick at it, for one reason or another. Warren was the one who was great at pulling out the guts. He was almost as quick at gutting pumpkins as Dale was at carving them.
It seemed like some things never changed.
"You seem to be having a good day today," Dale commented as he finished carving out the top of a pumpkin, which he then held out to Warren. His brother practically snatched the pumpkin and began to clean it out. Dale hadn't even had to get Warren going. It was just one of those things that he remembered how to do, like eating. Not only that, but Warren seemed fairly relaxed while doing this. His eyes weren't as completely blank as they normally were. He was looking right at the pumpkin that he was working on. When Dale said something to him, Warren would look towards him before turning his attention back to the pumpkin.
Dale didn't know what had changed, but ever since the whole hoeing incident, Warren seemed to be more aware. Or maybe Dale was the one who was more aware of his brother, because he didn't want a repeat of what had happened. It had been a few weeks, and though Warren's muscles seemed to be doing just fine, thanks to Lena and Ruth, his hands were still a little sensitive. The blisters had healed over, for the most part, but Dale knew that just a little too much friction could undo everything, so he was watching Warren carefully.
Dale gave Warren a small smile as he got to work to work at carving out a Jack-o-lantern from a pumpkin that Warren had already de-gutted. He was not working as quickly as he normally would, so this may take awhile longer than usual, but Dale didn't mind. He enjoyed working with Warren, especially since it seemed like Warren was enjoying this just as much as he was.
By the time the two of them finished with their pumpkins, it was late afternoon. Definitely a few hours later than Dale would normally like to be, but he didn't mind it so much. There really was nothing else he would rather be doing with his time than to work side by side with his brother. But they didn't have all day. They had to get the rest of these pumpkins set up around the house, and get back inside the house before sundown. They still had an hour, but on festival nights, it was always better to err on the side of caution.
"Come on," Dale said aside his pumpkin as he finished carving it and took back the pumpkin that Warren had been working with. Dale quickly began to carve into it. "We've got to get these back to get these up and get inside." Dale practically tore through the pumpkin. It was the fastest, sloppiest fairy light he's ever carved, but it would get the job done. Dale put the pumpkin with the other dozen or so they'd just been working with in a wheelbarrow. At least Lena and the Sorensons had come by to get the rest of the pumpkins and set them up already. They just had to deal with these last few.
Dale grabbed Warren's hand and pulled him to his feet. Dale knew he should try to get Warren moving on his own, but they were running out of time. They needed to get inside. So Dale bent slightly and led Warren to get onto his back. Warren had been working all afternoon, so Dale didn't feel any guilt about carrying his brother the few yards into the house.
As Dale brought Warren inside, he passed by Stan, who was speaking to some fairies on the front porch. Many of the fairies retreated into their fairy lanterns as they approached. Dale had realized awhile ago that creatures tended to avoid Warren, even ones that wouldn't normally be afraid of him. Even Newel and Doren, who were actually really fond of Warren, were awkwardly avoiding him like the plague. They were concerned about Warren, and they came by the cabin every once and awhile just to see if he was doing any better, but they refused to come within twenty feet of Warren. And they were the brave ones.
Fairies were much more uneasy around people in general, so as soon as they saw Warren, they skittered off. All but just a couple of them, and even though there were hundreds of fairies around Fablehaven, Dale recognized every single one of them. There was the fairy with silver hair and sparkling wings who was interested in Warren, but she wasn't the only one that seemed to go out of her way to try to get Warren's attention. Especially as he got older.
Lena had once told Dale that it had been the same way with Patton, even before he'd become fairystruck. Fairies were creatures of beauty. They had a tendency to get jealous of beautiful women, unless those women recognized that the fairies were more beautiful. As for men, fairies went looking for recognition from handsome young men, and Warren was only too happy to provide that. Obviously, he hadn't been able to since getting like this, but these few fairies were at least interested enough to stay nearby.
Stan looked at Dale and Warren. "Did you get the work done?"
"With some help," Dale gestured to Warren, who was staring blankly at the fairies. "He's still the best at getting the guts out of the pumpkin,"
Stan gave the two of them a small smile. "He always liked feeling useful,"
"Especially on festival nights," Dale said with a slight frown. He remembered the way that Warren would run around, doing anything he could to help someone who needed some additional assistance. He'd done this partially to be helpful, and partially to pester them all with questions about the creatures that would be coming into the yard.
Warren's curiosity had always been especially annoying to deal with on festival nights. He always wanted to look out the window. Dale was eighteen before he'd first looked out the window, but Warren had been given permission when he was just fifteen, the first festival after he'd been offered training from the Knights of the Dawn.
Dale hadn't been all that eager to let his brother look out the window. He still got nightmares because of what he'd seen, but as Lena had pointed out, Warren would be seeing a lot of horrible creatures as a Knight, and it might be best to at least have an idea of just how horrible their world had to offer.
Warren's excitement had waned slightly after his first glance out the window, and at the next festival he didn't even ask about the window, but the festival after that, he was right back to his old habits. Warren hadn't been at Fablehaven on festival night since becoming a Knight, but Dale knew that his brother had probably seen some things out there on his adventures that were worse than what could be found on festival nights at Fablehaven. Dale had expected Warren's first festival back at Fablehaven to be an absolute nightmare, that Warren may just get extremely bold and decide to not just take a peek outside, but leave the curtains open all night.
Dale should be relieved that there shouldn't be any problems tonight, but he really wasn't. He would definitely prefer that Warren be opening himself up to endless sleepless nights if it meant he was back to his old self again.
"Oh, before I forget, I found something for Warren," Stan opened the door and lead the way inside. Dale brought Warren into the kitchen, where Ruth was finishing up on dinner. They would eat a large, hearty meal just before sundown, like they did on every festival night. Ruth nodded at Dale, as she acknowledged that she would keep an eye on his brother. Once he knew that Warren would be okay, Dale followed Stan into his study.
"You know how I feel about technology on the preserve," Stan said as he went through a drawer in his desk. "But we both know how crazy things can get on festival nights, and I don't think that ear plugs would be enough for Warren, so I decided to make an exception to my rule." Stan pulled out a large pair of headphones that resembled the kind that Dale would sometimes see construction workers wear. These headphones were plugged into an iPod.
"...You did this for Warren?" Dale took the headphones and slipped them on. He could already tell that they would do well to block out sound, and what little it couldn't block out could be toned out with some music from the iPod. Dale took the headphones off and gave Stan a grateful smile. "Thank you." He knew that Stan hated the thought of technology at Fablehaven. It had taken a lot of persuading to talk him into getting a landline phone. For Stan to go against his own personal beliefs for Warren's sake, it meant a lot.
"I'm trusting you to not let any creatures get their hands on those," Stan said sternly. "Not even the satyrs." They both knew that a pair of headphones wasn't truly dangerous in the hands of anything on the preserve, and some music wouldn't corrupt anything, but it was the concept of the matter, and Dale was more than happy to respect that.
"They'll just be for Warren," Dale said, and he meant it. "What kind of music is on here?"
Stan smiled. "Lena recorded her singing some of those old naiad and fairy lullabies that Warren loved so much," Dale remembered those. It had been years since he'd heard them, as Lena didn't sing very much anymore, but he still frequently found himself humming to the old tunes. They were incredibly soothing.
"I'll be sure to thank her as well," Dale said quietly. Lena and the Sorensson's were doing so much to help Warren, going out of their ways to accommodate him and make him more comfortable, and Dale couldn't ask for more.
"Stan, Dale, dinner's ready," Ruth called in from the kitchen. She would normally come in to see them, as Ruth didn't like to shout needlessly in the house, but she was still in the kitchen keeping an eye on Warren. She didn't want to leave him on his own, even for a second.
Dale and Stan left the office immediately. It was a little earlier than they would normally have dinner, but as it was a festival night, they wanted to be completely done before the chaos really began at sundown. They needed to be ready.
In the kitchen, Ruth was in the process of getting the food on the table. Dale went to go help her while Stan made his way outside to make sure that all of the fairy lanterns were set up and to fetch Lena. Dale set the headphones in front of Waren before assisting Ruth even more. When the table was ready, Dale sat next to his brother and started putting a plate together for him. He could get Warren starting to eat while he waited for the others to return.
A few minutes later Stan and Lena returned inside. By this time, Warren was already eating on his own. Warren was in such a good mood today, he just needed the smallest amount of goading to do something.
Lena smiled when she saw Warren. She gently ran her fingers through his hair. He leaned ever so slightly into her touch. Warren seemed to be at least slightly aware of his surroundings. Dale felt so relieved. He had a good feeling about tonight.
"I see you got Warren's headphones," Lena said. "Have you had the chance to try them out yet?"
"That's what tonight's for," Dale said. "How's everything looking outside?"
"As secure as we can get it," Lena said. "The fairy lanterns are all in place. You and Warren did good." Lena hadn't commented on Dale's pumpkin work since he was a child. But she wasn't just complimenting him for his pumpkin work, she was commenting on his work with Warren, and Dale was proud.
"It's almost sundown," Ruth said. "Let's eat and get ready." They all sat down to eat. Dale kept half an eye on Warren as he ate. Warren was just finishing his food, looking slightly in Dale's general direction. Dale wondered what was on his mind.
As the minutes passed, Lena got more and more tense. She had always been the most sensitive to the goings on of festivals. She could feel when things were about to get started. Lena rarely said anything about her concerns, but over the years Dale had come to recognize when she was worried. And on festival nights, when she was visibly unnerved, Dale knew that things were about to begin.
Dale pushed his chair back and stood up. If creatures were going to start to show up in their yard in the next few minutes, Dale wanted to have his shotgun at his side. He probably wouldn't use it, but it was better to be safe than sorry on festival nights. As Dale left the kitchen he noticed that Warren's gaze followed him, or at least remained in his general direction. Dale felt a little bad about leaving the room when his brother seemed to be drawn to him right now, but he pushed the guilt away. Keeping them all safe was the most important thing, keeping them happy came second.
By the time Dale grabbed his gun, made sure he had enough ammo to make it through the night, and returned to join the others, there were already creatures coming into the yard. Lena and the Sorensons had brought Warren into the living room, and they were all waiting tensely for trouble.
Dale set his shotgun on the table and sat down on the couch next to Warren, who was wearing his headphones. Warren seemed just as content as he had been all day, but there was a strange look in his eyes, something like confusion, with just a hint of caution. Warren's eyes were also glued to the closed and curtained windows, like he somehow knew what was out there.
Dale frowned as he pulled Warren closer, almost protectively. That good feeling about Warren being almost aware of what was going on around him had been covered with concern that maybe it wasn't such a good thing. Dale was all for Warren being aware and acting like himself, but on a festival night, when there were so many creatures of shadow so nearby? Maybe it would be for the best if Warren stayed oblivious to the darkness.
Dale glared at the window, making sure that the shotgun was within reach. If there was even a hint of trouble from the creatures outside, if they gave Dale just a single reason to think that they were threatening Warren's safety or sanity, he would destroy them.
As the minutes passed, Warren seemed to become more distressed. He drew so close back against Dale that he almost seemed to be trying to sink right into him. Warren had brought his hands up to his ears and was pushing them against the earphones. There wasn't actually that much noise outside yet, and Warren's headphones were so thick that Dale doubted that his brother could actually hear anything aside from his music. There had to be something else that was bothering him.
Warren's distress was incredibly gradual, but then something that Dale wasn't aware of and couldn't actually identify happened. One second Warren was just frowning at the window and leaning against Dale, and the next he was letting out whines from the back of his throat and turning his face towards Dale's chest.
Dale was shocked, and beyond concerned. Ever since he'd tried to go after the artifact, Warren had been incredibly subdued with his emotions and reactions. It was really concerning for him to suddenly be so visibly distressed. And Dale didn't even know what had happened.
He looked towards the window. Everything looked and sounded fine, at least as far as festival nights went. But just because Dale wasn't aware of trouble didn't mean that it wasn't out there.
Lena shuddered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself. "There are some dark forces in the yard tonight." She didn't exactly seem concerned, as she knew that they were perfectly safe, but she was obviously troubled. Just like Warren was.
Dale drew his brother close. "Do you know exactly who is out there?" Lena shook her head.
"I have no idea," She said in a tone that suggested that she was just fine with it that way. She didn't want to know. "But creatures have always been able to have a vague sense of the more powerful forces. I may not be a naiad anymore, but I can still feel it. Especially on festival nights."
Dale frowned and looked at his brother, who was clutching tightly to him like he was his only lifeline. "What if someone has been cursed or something? Would they be able to sense the darkness too?" They didn't know if Warren was truly cursed, but Dale didn't know how else to refer to it.
Lena looked at Warren, who was still whining slightly. "There are dark creatures all over Fablehaven. I think we would know by now if Warren was able to sense all of them. If he was somehow connected to one though…" She trailed off. Dale's expression darkened. The only way that Dale could imagine someone being connected to Warren was if they were responsible for whatever had happened to him.
Dale felt a hot, boiling anger build up in him. There was a very real possibility that whoever or whatever had hurt Warren and taken his will from him was just outside the house right now, and would be there all night. Dale hated this with a passion, and Warren holding tightly to him was the only thing keeping him from grabbing his shotgun and storming outside to destroy whoever had done this to his brother.
Dale had been so focused on just what was wrong with Warren that he hadn't thought a lot about why it had happened. Tonight was the first time that Dale was even considering that there was likely someone responsible for all of this.
Dale had never been a violent person, but at that moment he desperately wanted to hurt the one who had essentially taken his brother from him. He wanted to make them pay. But going out on a festival night was suicide. He wouldn't accomplish anything, except getting himself killed, and where would that leave Warren?
Dale's anger was overwhelming, but he was forced to focus when he heard Warren's whine turn into a whimper. He was getting more distressed. At first Dale just became angrier as he wondered just what was out there, and what it was doing to upset Warren like this. His anger wasn't doing his brother any good though, so Dale forced himself to take a deep breath.
"It's okay," Dale ran his hands through Warren's hair. "Nothing can get us in here." Dale held his brother close to him and adjusted the headphones, just to make sure that they were blocking out the noise. He wanted to reassure his brother that he was safe, and he wouldn't let anything happen to him, but it didn't seem right to say. Even if Warren couldn't understand what he was saying, Dale couldn't bring himself to tell Warren that he would protect him, because clearly he couldn't. Even before this whole disaster had happened, Dale had never been very good at protecting his brother.
What Dale could do though, even now, was to help ease the pain coming from Warren's own mind. He held Warren close, like he would never let him go again. Dale pet Warren's hair with one hand, and rubbed his back with the other. It felt a little odd to do, but Dale remembered when he was really young his dad used to do this when he was feeling sick. It hadn't taken away the physical pains, but it had made Dale feel more secure, and that was what he wanted for Warren.
Dale closed his eyes and quietly hummed an old naiad lullaby, like the kind that Warren was listening to. Dale knew that his brother couldn't hear his humming, but he did it anyways, because he didn't know what else to do. It may not do any good, but if there was even a minuscule chance that Dale's efforts may make Warren feel even the smallest bit better, then it was worth it.
A/N: I've taken a few creative liberties with Warren's catatonic state in this chapter. The thing is, I don't know a whole lot about it, so I don't know if some of the things that I've written are completely accurate. It just makes sense to me that Warren is kinda affected by shadows and darkness while he's in the albino state, because in the third book, when the shadow plague is going around Fablehaven, just before Warren becomes that shadowy person thing that affects all the adults, he says something about it being just like the grove. The whole grove thing is what caused his albinoness, and was caused by a creature of shadows. Becoming a shadowy person reminds him of the whole experience. It just kinda makes sense to me. So if the catatonic state is making Warren more sensitive to dark creatures and magic, as well as loud noises, I don't think festival nights would be very easy for him.
I'm planning on writing a chapter in the future that more directly tackles the whole shadow plague thing that I mentioned.