Page 3 of Triadic

"S-so we won't be separated," I stammered. Was I the only one willing to even negotiate for this?

"No, Corbi," said Wren firmly, his words hitting me like cold water. "You have important training to do here,and Marit has a gigantic library at his disposal. I wouldn't feel right having you both along for the ride and sacrificing everything in order to keep us together. We've always known my path would lead me from here, and although I'll miss you both very much, I must go and find these gods, so they can continue to protect the Danubian peace, as fragile and new as we know it to be."

That was it, then. Marit and I stared at Wren, our sweet Wren with his tanned skin and honey-colored hair and the soft hazel in his eyes that could see into other worlds. He believed in his calling, no matter how treacherous the path that lay before him.

In that quiet moment as his truth settled over us, my intuition spoke and guided me toward understanding. Things could change in the future, but for now, I needed to let him go.

"Okay," I conceded, even though it hurt.

"We'll support you," Marit added.

Wren smiled. "Thank you."

Three days later, we saw him off from the front of Diana Monastery. One last hug, then he mounted a horse and rode away from us, following the guide. Marit and I waved, just in case he looked back. At the first bend, which would take him out of sight in our dense forest, Wren turned and saw us waving. He gave a huge wave, his beaming smilestill visible even at that distance. Then his horse took him around the bend, and he was gone.

Marit and I waved a moment longer, and a part of me wished Wren would come trotting right back, having changed his mind. But he didn't. He'd chosen his path, and it had taken him away from us.

I was at a loss for words, completely overwhelmed.

"I won't leave you," whispered Marit. "Even if the gods call me to their service, I will not leave you."

I swallowed down my despair, taking his hand and not caring if anyone else saw it. "I feel the same."

Chapter Two: Peter

"Oh!" I shrieked in victory as the line tugged, and with my voracious yank, a fish came flying out of the water. I thanked the river, then thanked the fish before I drew my knife and gave it a swift and clean death, tossing the head for my dog to pounce on and eat. Lastly I blessed the magical forest that had become our home.

Magical because I could see things I shouldn't be able to, and because in all the months here and even with a wild dog as a companion, I hadn't found a way to escape.

Schneewittchen, or Snow White as I called her, wiggled her little rump in the air while she ate and made me chuckle to myself while I cleaned the fish and got it onto a spit over the fire.

Some Christians paused at the large beech tree and saluted their god further down the bank. I knew something magical was going on with me because while I couldsee them, they couldn't see me. And just as strange: while my eyes told me I was looking at just another huge beech tree at a fork further down the riverbank, I knew for certain the Alpine Christ was there, or a representative there on his behalf.

When I'd first charged into the forest and promptly gotten lost, I'd traded one bad situation for another. I'd escaped my village, but rather than finding the shortcut that could have gotten me to the nearest town, where I maybe could have started over, I'd become trapped, circling the same area in the forest and forced to sleep there overnight, cold and scared. As a child of course I'd heard stories of people getting trapped by fairies in magical pockets in the forest, never to be heard from again, but I'd never thought such a thing could happen to me.

An image as beautiful as a painting had appeared to me, and even in my dream state, I'd recognized a sketch from school that taught how Christians had depicted Jesus in a living tree full of green leaves, a thousand years ago during the Renaissance.

I clearly got the feeling that this image appeared to me so I wouldn't be frightened. But there was someone behind the painting, an angel or messenger. By speaking into my mind, they'd asked whether I'd come seeking the Alpine Christ. I'd answered no—I was now without a home and lost, and after all the shame I'd been put through in the name of our faith back at the village, just for being gay, I didn't think I'd be Christian if I had any choice in the matter. The messenger hadn't argued. They'd accepted myanswer and explained the door was always open if I ever wanted to come back.

It wasn't until morning that I'd realized the angel also hadn't told me how to get out of here. In the coming days as I searched for a path out of the forest, I'd always circle back to that same spot to sleep, and over the months it had become my home base. At least when I slept, I knew I had a representation of a deity nearby who tended to be benevolent and kind. Since I was no longer a follower, he might not lift a hand to protect me if a pack of wolves ate me for lunch, but at least I'd have a witness to my demise and wouldn't die alone.

The relief I'd felt from that dream had taught me another important thing: I needed to talk about why I left my village, air out all the pain I was carrying around unprocessed. I'd started just talking to the forest so I could say it out loud, then when Schneewittchen had found me, I'd explained it all to my dog. I might not ever make it out of this forest alive—maybe I'd disappeared months ago, and no one would ever hear from me again—but at least I'd healed from my past for the most part and grown a lot as a person while I was in here.

Schneewittchen finished her food and bounded back to me. I sent her a sharp look, shooing her away from the skewer over the fire. "The rest is mine, honey. If I starve, then I can't share my food with you. Why don't you go catch a rabbit, sweet thing? We'd have rabbit soup for days, and I'd be grateful for fur mitts when winter comes."

I'd better find my way out by then, or I'd freezeto death.

My dog wagged her bushy white tail and lolled her tongue at me, her white fur somehow always immaculately clean despite the muddy environment, her wood-brown eyes twinkling in delight. She might stick around for easy food and entertainment, but I was glad to have her and would move heaven and earth to keep her.

I checked the fish, and it looked ready. Grabbing some lingonberries from my stash, I reverently blessed the food once more. "Time to eat.Mahlzeit!"

Chapter Three: Marit

Part of my duties at the library involved processing the monastery's mail. As such, I was first in line to check everything that came in for a message from Wren. I tried not to bug Corbi about it, but I was worried sick that he'd been mugged or worse. We should have established that he'd send word back immediately once he'd arrived safely.

One of our older bards—he was only in his late thirties, but he used a glamour for protection when traveling that made him look like an old man—had been mugged recently, and Ceridor's injuries haunted my dreams, transposed onto my beloved Wren's body.

Corbi and I had spent the last two weeks just missing him. We curled up together in bed, trying to comfort each other as we both grieved. My sex drive had shriveled up and died; Corbi didn't seem interested, either. It was like neither of us wanted to take that step to sleep with eachother without Wren there, knowing it would be just us from now on.

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