Great Spirits

∆ Twenty-One ∆

Fingers combed through Wren's hair. They were soft and gentle. Gentle enough to lull him back to sleep if he was not careful. Wren opened his  and noticed a fire going. The crackling and hissing sounds finally registered to his ears. He groaned and turned on his back as his head began pounding. Too much stimuli not enough rest, he thought as he shielded his eyes with his forearms. He grew weary of even his vision. Everything disoriented him. When he chanced another glance at his surroundings Wren's eyes was met with a pair of smiling brown ones. 

Wren lurched forward, but Silas pressed him back down. 

"Not too fast... You are still recovering," Silas said as he brushed back the stray hairs of Wren's that had fallen in front of his face. 

"I understand that, but why... why am I lying on your lap?" His cheeks burned with the endless thoughts that riffled through his mind. 

"Would you prefer the dirt?" Wren glanced at Silas before turning away, abashed. 

"No, I suppose not."

A long, tense silence sat between them. 

Although Wren had many, many questions for him, Wren thought better of it. It did not seem like the right time. Wren did not want to make it look like he was doubting Silas as Walla was. He wanted to support him in whatever human ways he could, but how could he, if Silas would not tell him a thing beyond the basics.

"Punga is here," Silas said.

Wren sprung forward and looked at Silas full of worry. 

"As well as some of the others... " Silas finished.

"Others...?"

"I do not want you to be in harms way, and I cannot fully protect you if you are with me."

"Silas. It is just you. You cannot face them alone."

"I must."

"For what reasons must you?" Wren pressed. "What reasons would drive you to such crazy lengths such as this?" 

"A voice. A calling... I cannot quite explain it. Her voice was the voice I heard when I had awoken."

"Her? Another god, perhaps?"

"Maybe..."

"...And you think you will find her here?"

Silas shook his head no before lowering his eyes. "Something is drawing me here. Calling me here."  

Wren rubbed his forehead and sighed. Finally, some answers, but they are just as cryptic as ever. They answered some questions, yes, but many more questions followed after. What was he to do with him?  

"What terrible creature are you when you look as though you have confessed to a crime?" Wren joked to break the growing tension. 

Silas smiled making Wren's heart warm. It was more natural seeing him smile and it put him more at ease was all. 

"I give life, but I take life as well. Something cannot come from nothing, but many humans fail to realize that."

Silas rose and walked towards a dimly lit cliff wall. He let his hand glide against the rocks , brushing away loose dirt and overgrown vegetation. It soon revealed the writings of old. The ones his elders taught him long ago. 

Wren rose and followed after Silas. He hugged himself tight, already missing the warmth of the fire. When Wren got close enough, Silas moved a little to the side to let him take a look. 

"The language of the gods, you say... " Wren murmured. 

For some reason Wren was hesitant to touch it. They were merely carvings on a dirt wall. If not for Silas' presence they would be just that. With him here, they were given more meaning— power. Perhaps, that was why Silas referred to it as such.