Chapter 03 — A strange dream

Hunter was sitting quietly on a chair in a room he had never seen before in his life, holding a small bluish log in one of his hands, with a strange affection. In front of him was a desk with several wood carving tools.

Obviously there were other things in the room, but from the position he was sitting in they weren't visible and for some reason he didn't get up to see what they were, it was almost as if he already knew what was there. Normally, at any other moment, the boy would freak out if he found himself in this situation, but for some reason he was very calm, even more peaceful than he had ever felt in his entire life in the castle.

Hunter stayed in that position looking at the log for several minutes, then he sighed and said to himself:

"It's just a wish... That's the only thing Ava told me to do before I started carving... A wish and automatically my hands will be guided by the magic of the wood and begin to carve the being that can fulfill it... Then why can I not do this?"

His voice had come out thicker, too adult to be his, but for some reason it didn't surprise him. It was as if it had always been like that.

A few more minutes passed and Hunter was still holding the log, doing nothing, so he sighed again and placed the log on the desk.

"Looks like I couldn't use the present Ava gave me for my birthday last month… Again," the boy told himself with a tone of disappointment. "She was so excited to see what my palis-something would look like… Never mind, I wasn't even supposed to have accepted a birthday present, parties and celebrations completely violate the principles of my religion... I don't even know why I said the date when she asked me, celebrating birthdays is her people's thing, not mine. The same goes for witchcraft..."

So, he stood up from the chair, noticing that he was waaaay taller than he remembered (which for some reason wasn't making him freak out) and then started putting away the carving tools that were laid out on the desk, when the door to that room opened abruptly.

"Henry!" A very handsome boy who didn't look even fifteen, also very tall and slim, with fair skin, blue eyes, perfect teeth, sharp nose, human ears and long, wavy dark blond hair in a ponytail shouted entering in the bedroom, running excitedly towards Hunter, hugging him tightly as soon as he got close enough. "Guess what, guess what!"

For some reason that boy reminded Hunter a lot of someone, but he couldn't remember who.

"Hey, looks like something good happened to someone today," Hunter said with a smile, returning the hug and strangely not bothering to be called Henry, it was like he felt that was his name.

"Yeah," Ponytail boy replied with a HUGE smile breaking the hug. "Pastor Hardman decided to go at the last minute to Happyfied, that neighboring village full of people as narrow-minded and crazy as he is, to 'fix some personal problems' or something like that for TWO WEEKS! Can you believe it, Henry? Two weeks, two whole weeks without the king of the delusional ones bugging us and making up nonsense about you! Isn't that wonderful?

"Absolutely!" Hunter (or this Henry guy, he didn't even know who he was anymore) said, smiling. "Best news I heard today, Phil."

"Yes! I couldn't take it anymore, him calling you 'son of the devil' behind your back, spreading nonsense about you being a wizard and saying you deserve to go to the gallows. How hateful! Do you have any idea how much he pestered me asking if you were 'doing something weird on the sly' just this week?!"

"No, but I can imagine it."

"Well, he wasted a lot of my precious time! Every time I took a little break from my work at the Council that creepy weird old man would appear out of nowhere like a ghost doing hours and hours and hours of lecture and cheap psychological manipulation trying to turn me against my only brother and… Argh! Just remembering makes my blood boil."

"Wow… what a punishment." Henry said, feeling a deep pity for the boy who was apparently named Phil. "Worse than the torture they make a unlucky person go through to get a confession that this person is a witch in Happyfield."

"Yes! I'm sure ALL my sins were atoned for with this torment this week," Phil said, being melodramatic.

"I can imagine it... Now, changing the subject, what do you want for a birthday present?"

"Birthday?" Phil asked with a raised eyebrow, suddenly serious. "Which birthday?"

"Yours," Henry replied. "You turn 20 next week."

"And?"

"Never mind…" Henry said, regretting what he'd suggested.

"Have you met that weird woman who lives in the woods again?" Phil asked with disappointment visible in his eyes and in the tone of his voice.

"No…" Henry lied, his heart aching as he saw the expression on Phil's face. "Why do you ask?"

"Because out of nowhere you decided to come up with some crazy idea of celebrating birthdays, making a meaningless celebration, which totally contradicts the principles of a true Christian and the teachings of John Calvin. Henry, we must live a disciplined and regulated life, guided by work and prayer. Have you forgotten that?"

"No… I just… I just thought it would be nice to give you a present…"

"On my birthday?"

"Yes…"

"Henry, this IS a celebration and also a completely meaningless and, at this present time, even dangerous action! Henry, what if Hardman finds this out? That will be the excuse that madman is looking for to sentence you to the gallows and start a witch hunt here in our village!"

"I know..."

"Then why are you trying to make his life easier?"

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are," Philip interrupted. "Look, all of us here in Gravesfield came here, to the Colonies, and founded this village three years ago to escape religious persecution in our old home, but always, always, always there's a Hardman out there wanting to stalk someone even when this persecutor already had tasted what it's like to be chased. As you can't keep quiet seeing injustices and always tries to protect innocent people from the evils of these Beelzebub spawns, these monsters end up making you a target. Not that I think it's bad you protect the weak and the downtrodden, far from me such a thing! This is one of the characteristics I most admire about you, and it is also the mark of a true Christian. You are a hero, Henry, and the best older brother in the world!"

"Ow…thanks, Phil," Henry said emotionally.

"But, as I said, you being a good man ends up attracting the wrath of the bad ones. And the bad ones never rest! They keep watching for any silly and unnecessary (even innocent) acts to use to create a lie convincing enough to accuse the good people of something wicked, condemning them to death for a crime they would never commit. Tell me, brother, is this what you want to happen to you?"

"No."

"Thank Heaven…" Phil said with a sigh of relief. "So don't do or even consider doing anything unnecessary again, okay?"

Henry didn't answer right away, looking away for a few seconds, until he finally took a deep breath and managed to look Phil in the eye again and say:

"OK"

"Excellent! It made me more relieved now."

Henry didn't respond.

"Look…" Philip started. "I know you just wanted to do something nice for me, show me how much you love me, and I appreciate that. Really. And I love you too! I love you more than anything that exists in this world and that's why I want to see you safe and confident in the faith in Our Lord. So if you really want to do something special for me, you just need to pray more than you already pray and continue to live a pure and disciplined life, without drinking, partying, or distractions, as every true Christian should. Can you do it for me? That's all I ask of you."

"Yes…"

"Thanks."

Henry didn't say anything, that conversation was creating an unpleasant atmosphere between them and Henry felt guilty about it.

"Already…it's getting late and it's past time for our nightly prayer and…" Phil said awkwardly, as if he'd noticed he'd caused a tense atmosphere between them. "I don't think you're in the mood for that right now, huh?"

"Sorry…" Henry said.

"It's okay… No need to apologize… Let's… uh… Let's just forget this weird conversation happened and go back to acting normal without any weirdness, okay?"

"OK."

"Great."

Phil approached again and hugged Henry tightly saying:

"I love you brother."

"I love you too, Philip," Henry replied, hugging him back.

"I'm going to my room now," Phil said, breaking the hug. "I will pray a lot for you before I sleep, my brother.

"I'll do the same."

"Thanks."

So Philip walked to the bedroom door and when he got there he stopped and said:

"Good night, Henry."

After that, Philip left the room, not waiting for an answer, leaving Henry alone again.

Then Henry collapsed on his chair, with a sigh of weariness and sadness.

"Once again I couldn't have a sincere conversation with him…" Henry said to himself as he picked up that strange blue log on his desk again. "We used to be so close and honest with each other when we were still living in England… How has that changed? When did I change? Following Calvin's principles was so easy, so natural… Why does it now seem such a heavy burden? When did it become so difficult to profess my faith? When did being a perfect member of the community stop being what I am and became just a mask I wear all the time so as not to displease nor disappoint those around me?"

Henry continued holding the log, stroking it as if that object were a small animal or a stuffed animal, saying:

"I just wanted someone I could talk to about my anguish… Someone who wouldn't be disappointed when I said some stupid or sily thing… Someone who could see behind my mask… Someone to help me carry this burden… Someone… I just … I just… I just wanted a friend."

At that moment the log began to emit a warm, faint golden light, which began to spread, enveloping Henry's hands, causing them to begin to move of their own accord.

Henry should have been terrified of it, but instead he was calm, caught in that strange comforting light, letting himself be guided by that trance, which eased his anguish and erased all his thoughts, while the magic made his body act in automatic mode, taking the carving tools and starting to carve something in the wood.

After hours of manual labor, the log had become a beautiful carving of a red cardinal and the magical light controlling Henry faded away.

"W-what?" Henry asked himself, startled when he saw the sculpture on the desk and one of his hands still holding a chisel. "Did I… do it?"

Henry approached the sculpture with curiosity and a little fear, so he touched the sculpture and at the same moment it began to glow with a golden light again and at the same moment it also began to change. Its color, which had previously been bluish because of the strange magical wood, turned red and more and more the sculpture stopped looking like a wooden statue and became a real bird, feathers and all.

At the end of the transformation there was no difference between the ex-sculpture and any red cardinal.

"How…?"

"Magic," the little red cardinal chirped in his bird language.

And Henry jumped back, covering his mouth to keep from screaming, almost having a heart attack with fright when he realized that he had just understood the chirping of a bird.

"Are you all right?" The red cardinal asked worriedly in his bird language.

"Can you speak?!" Henry asked, still shaken.

"Sure! Why couldn't I?"

"Because you're a bird!"

"Birds don't speak?"

"No!"

"I didn't know..." The bird said crestfallen.

That was enough for Henry to stop being defensive and make him feel bad for making that little animal sad.

"Hey… it's okay…" Henry said, trying to comfort the red cardinal. "It wasn't you who shouldn't be able to speak, it's me who shouldn't be able to understand you."

"What?" the bird asked confusedly, looking back at the man in front of him.

"Humans don't understand bird chirps, but for some reason I seem to have turned into a freak who can understand yours," Henry continued. "So I'm the weirdo here."

"You're not a freak!" the little bird retorted. "Nor a weirdo. At least I don't think you are. I like you and I like that you understand what I say."

"I… uh…" Henry began, trying to argue, but he couldn't. "Thanks."

"No thanks needed," the bird replied with what Henry thought was a cheerful expression or even a smile. "Now… What's your name?"

"Henry. Henry Wittebane. And yours?"

"I was just born, so I don't have one," the little red cardinal replied. "Can you give me one?"

"What?"

"A name! Please…"

"Fine, but I'll let you know that I'm terrible with names."

"All right! I'm sure any name you give will be wonderful."

"I doubt it," Henry said. "The most you can hope for coming from me is a name as unoriginal as 'Red'."

"Well then, you'd better try a little harder to be creative."

"Hey!"

"Go, try, make an effort… I never asked you for anything…" the bird begged with puppy dog eyes. "Please…"

"Okay, I'll try," Henry said, looking away from the bird and to the window so he wouldn't look at the cute pleading face. As he did, he saw that it was snowing through the window.

"Winter," Henry said. "This is your name."

"I liked it. Does it mean something?"

"Nothing much, it's just the name of the season we're in now… And it was also around this time, last year, that I first met Ava."

"Ava?"

"Aveline Clawthorne, but I call her Ava. She's the one who gave me the piece of wood I used to carve you."

"Oh, great! I loved the meaning of my name! From now on I am Winter!"

The bird began to fly excitedly around the room, singing:

"I'm Winter, I'm Winter, I'm Winter! Best name ever! I'm Winter!"

And Winter kept flying and singing, while Henry began to hear a voice calling him:

"Hunter?"

The man decided to ignore the strange voice, but…

"Hunter?" the voice called again.

And with that, everything began to fade away around him.

"Hunter," Winter's chirping called in a worried tone, finally managing to pull his witch out of sleep.

From the way it sounded it sounded like the red cardinal had been trying to wake Hunter for a long time and the young witch just didn't hear in his deep sleep. Which was strange, as the boy had never fallen into such a heavy sleep before… And the dream he was having was so real… For a moment he thought he was that Henry guy and felt everything that non-existent human felt…

"Hunter?" Winter called again. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I am, thanks," Hunter replied, releasing Winter and sitting up in bed, still sleepy. "I just had a dream that felt very real and I'm having a hard time waking up because of it…"

"Really?" Winter asked curiously, flying to Hunter's shoulder. "Dreamed of what?"

"I dreamed that I was a kind of emo adult human wearing old fashioned clothes who had a weird and very familiar younger brother and that I was talking to him and he was doing a lot of facial expressions in a very short period of time, some of them were cheerful, others were quite silly and funny, and others bothered me a little in the dream. I don't think I've ever seen anyone more expressive than this dude in my life," Hunter replied. "Forget it, I just remembered that I did, the Owl Lady's human pet, but apart from her, this boy of my dream would win a contest for who makes more different faces per minute pretty easy."

Winter immediately laughed at the comment.

"I'm serious! I think the human and this guy would tie for first place in a contest like this," Hunter said. "Continuing, then this brother I had in this dream and I finished talking and he wished me good night the same way Uncle Belos does when he wants to stop a conversation he isn't liking and then he left and I started to carve a palisman almost identical you and after that I woke up."

"Almost identical?" Winter asked curiously. "What was different about him?"

"He didn't have that scar you have in your eye."

"Only that?"

"Only that."

"Cool!" Winter said, genuinely excited. "You're right! This is a crazy dream!"

"Yep," Hunter said with a slight smile, starting to get caught up in his palisman's excitement. "So…I think it's about time I went to see Agatha."

"Agatha?"

"Yes, she is the head of Healing Coven. Uncle told me to go to her and ask her to heal my wounds as soon as I woke up."

"I understood..."

"Are my eyes too swollen?"

"Do you really want me to tell the truth?"

"Are they that bad?"

"Yes, they are."

"Damn… I didn't want to leave here looking like I've been crying…"

"But you've been crying!" Winter snapped. "What's so bad about them knowing you've been crying?"

"Kikimora. She'll be the first one to hear if some gossip about my last meeting with the Emperor starts to circulate in the castle and I don't want to give her that pleasure."

"You're right, anything is better than that," Winter agreed. "But now that you're no longer crying, your voice is no longer failing. Too bad you don't have that golden mask anymore... If that weird dragon Kikimora kept as a pet hadn't swallowed your golden mask you could wear it and no one would know you've been crying..."

"Actually… I kind of have a spare mask stashed…somewhere in this room…" Hunter spoke a thoughtfully and a little embarrassed.

"What?!" Winter asked in surprise. "Then why haven't I seen you wearing a mask since that day Kikimora tried to murder you in Latissa?"

"Because with everything that happened I kind of forgot I have a spare mask…" Hunter replied sheepishly.

Winter looked up with an expression of disbelief.

"Hey! I had a lot on my mind and I was afraid of being replaced!" Hunter defended himself. "And I'm still…" he completed in undertone to himself.

"Sorry..."

"It's okay," Hunter said, trying to console the palisman. "At least you reminded me of its existence and now I can look for it here in this room. With the mask, not even Agatha will suspect. Thank you, buddy."

"No thanks needed, but how do you know she won't find out? Won't she need to examine your head? You took a lot of falls and must have hit your head a couple of times fighting the purple haired girl yesterday."

"Yes, but Agatha is blind, she couldn't see my swollen eyes anyway. So even though she does a battery of exams on me, she still won't be able to see that I cried before bed. Perfect! No gossip and, above all, no Kikimora setting off fireworks of joy when hearing about a moment of weakness of mine! Now I'm going to wash my face and change."

"Wait," Winter asked. "Before that, could you tell me what happened at the meeting with the emperor that made you come back crying?"

Hunter froze at the question and after a second trying to get back to normal, he took a deep breath and said:

"I don't want to talk about it… At least not right now… Is that okay?"

"Yes, I don't want to force you to do something that bothers you. You are my witch and my friend," Winter replied. "But if something's bothering you and you need to talk to someone, you can talk to me. I'm always ready to listen to you."

"Thanks," Hunter replied emotionally.

"No thanks needed, that's what friends are for."

Hearing this, Hunter, thrilled and grateful, hugged Winter tightly, almost crushing the little palisman, only stopping when he heard the bird's complaints that he was about to pass out.

"Sorry," Hunter said, dropping the palisman.

"Okay," Winter replied with what could be guessed as a huge smile, flying to Hunter's shoulder again. "I like hugs."

"Really?"

"Yeah, just be careful not to crush me next time."

"I promise I'll try," Hunter replied seriously, as if he were taking a solemn oath. "Now, just one more question before I go, how long did I sleep?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Winter…"

"Okay, I'll tell you. Twelve."

"Minutes?"

"Hours."

"WHAT?!"