None wanted to stay at the farm with Isa walking around the premises like a shackled ghost. For dinner, Myde invited Roxas and Lea to the village pub where they were promised the most delicious steak this side of Ferelden. Lea had not doubt it would taste heavenly. Myde had raised the cow served at the inn that day.
The dark clouds that had threatened with rain all day thickened. It rained hard once they walked back to the farm. They could have taken the horse and carriage, but Myde did not want to get back too soon. Maker willing, the rain would cleanse his farm from the evil that had decided to contort Isa's mind. The Maker might have heard Myde's plea, or so they thought for the short moment it seemed that Isa had left the farm. Lea took notice of him on the grassfield at the back of the main house. He ran in the rain, accompanied by Myde's two horses. His feet were bare and his clothes clung to him as wet as they were. The dark horse ran past him and he managed to jump onto it. Isa carried his bow and arrows. Watching him practice had always been awe inspiring. Every move was made to seem effortless, but a single slip could cause him great harm.
Lea was to turn back to the shed when the dark horse slowed into a trot. Isa leaned forward, his face against the horse's mane. He remained that way, like a child clinging to its mother, as the horse trotted around the field.
Roxas was asleep when Lea came back to the shed, soaked to the bone. He shivered as he quickly changed clothes and hung his wet ones to dry. Like a dog, he flung his head around to get the worst of it out, but with hair as thick as his, he would have to wait a while longer before he could go to sleep. Lea paced to keep warm. The stove wasn't generating as much warmth as he would like it to. The cold got to him eventually and he decided to go to bed. Lea pulled his covers back and in the dim light he saw a flower crown on his bed. The flowers were wilting, their colors pale and uninspiring. Love, courage and strength. Lea sighed and took the flower crown in his hands. It would make for good fuel for the smoulders of fire in the stove.