He turned his head trying to get a look, but it was of course impossible. "Who are you?" he called back.

"B-Brint?"

Brint couldn't believe it. "Aelric?"

"What have you done to me!?"

"What are you talking about?" Brint said, feeling his frustration rise. He couldn't see the boy and he sure hadn't done anything to him. It was Aelric who had ruined his life.

"Let me free!" Aelric demanded. "The Elders will hear of this! Let me free, Brint! I'm warning you, I'm going to start shouting!"

"What in Herleric's name are you talking abou—you're bound too?"

"Yes, I'm bound! You… what… what do you mean? You also?"

"I can't move a muscle over here, you idiot. Syl must have bound us both."

"Syl? Who is—is she the Ascendant?"

"Yeah…" Brint said, frowning. "How do you know that?"

"I've met her," Aelric said. There was a moment of hesitation in his voice. "Brint, she cast a spell on me."

"She cast a spell on me too. That's why we're in this mess. Bright Heleric, you’re stupid sometimes.”

"No! I mean she wiped away my memories the day I met her."

"What are you going on about?"

"She took my memories, Brint! The only reason I remember them is because I saw her at the festival today."

The anger and pain flashed through Brint again. "You mean the festival where you embarrassed me in front of the whole village? The festival where you took Feyna away from me a second time after she had agreed to giving me her hand in marriage? The festival—"

"Listen to me Brint! This is serious! The Ascendant has bound us both! She's our enemy, Brint. Who knows what she will do next!"

"You are my enemy! I should have killed you on that square today. I should have broken every bone in your body."

"You tried. I won that duel fair. I won it just like I'm going to win Feyna back."

"That's a load of ox manure and you know it, Aelric. I went on easy on you because of your stupid, whiny speech, crying about how sad poor Aelric's life is like you always go on and on about. I went easy on you even though I swore to myself that I wouldn't. But I did it anyway, like I always do. Like everyone in the village does. I did everything I could to protect you from being seriously hurt. And you took advantage of my kindness like you always do, claiming victory in a fight you never could have won in a thousand years!"

"What… what are you talking about? What do you mean like everyone in the village does?"

"Oh drop the act, Aelric. You know how everyone treats you. 'Poor Aelric this', 'poor Aelric that', 'he tries so hard', 'he always looks so sad.'"

"They… they don't say that…"

"Of course they do. That's why all the adults are always telling you how great you are. How you're a 'good boy' and a 'hard worker', 'Oh, Aelric, here's a jar of milk I have left over from today's milking. I really don't need it, you're a growing boy, and you should have it.' 'Hey Aelric, could you help me draw a bucket of well water? Here's a barrel of apples for your trouble. That's a fair payment, don't you think? Because gods-forbid your father finds out we're giving your family charity.'"

"Wh-what do you mean? What's anything got to do with my father?"

"His pride, Aelric. Everyone's always tiptoeing around his pride."

"That's a lie! Everyone treats him different because he was born Mirebound!"

"Sure, some people do. But don't tell me you haven't noticed how everyone has to bend over backwards coming up with some dumb excuse just to lend him a hand. My father had to tell him the boar he'd shot was a gift from a neighboring village in order to get him to come to the summer swim last month. And last week, he didn't even come when my father invited him."

"What? Your father invited him?"

"Of course he did. Every family in the village is invited."

"I… I don't believe you."

"Sure, don't believe me. Just ask yourself if one of us hasn't helped your family out recently and made up some excuse for it. A gift of some sort? A discount on goods? Tell me that hasn't happened, and I'll shut up."

There was a long silence, and Brint laughed, feeling gleeful in telling Aelric every word he's always wanted to tell him but his father had forbidden him to say. "You've thought of something haven't you?"

"But it's not the same. Miller Tabb gave my father a discount on milling our wheat harvest, but it was because the winds were strong that day."

Brint barked a laugh. "'The winds were strong', he says. When are the winds ever not strong on the hill? Tell me that Miller Tabb didn't have to cast a spell to keep the winds going."

"Well… he did… but… it… it can't be."

"It is. Everyone coddles you and your family, Aelric. Everyone. Even Feyna. Do you know how many times she told me she wished she could visit you in winter? She knows she can't because your father will demand to give her a welcoming meal each time that she knows he can't afford."

"I… I didn't know…"

"Only the gods know what she saw in you. Always whining, always crying. I was always the one who had to stand up for you against the other boys. I was always the one who protected the both of you. Did you ever see me cry when we were young? Did you ever hear me whining about my woes to you? And after all that she goes and chooses you, thinking she can help you, make you stronger."

"That's not why she chose me. She never said that to you."

Brint could tell that Aelric was feeling broken now, his words more a question than a statement. He knew he could lie then, and drive the knife into the center of his heart. But once again, he just couldn't do it.

"No, she didn't tell me that in so many words. But I know her as well as you do, Aelric. She's too kind. Too kind by far. It's a good thing her parents finally talked some sense into her."

He could hear Aelric crying now, and it just made Brint even angrier. "Oh here comes the river again."

"You d-don't know w-what it's like," Aelric said between his sobs.

"And here comes the poor-Aelric’s-sad-life song."

"You know nothing!" Aelric declared, anger flashing. "My mother laid with the Legionnaire’s reeve just to delay our debts!"

Brint's mouth dropped. He hadn't known that. But the anger still burned in his heart. "S-so what? You think you're the only one who has it tough? I don't even have a mother, Aelric! She died when I was born, and my father still blames me for it! I've never known the warmth and kindness that you get from your parents and the rest of the villagers. My father is the best hunter in the village and everyone just assumes we have it good. No one asks me how I'm doing. No one asks if I need anything or makes an effort to lend aid. You think only your family suffers the Legionnaire’s men? The Legionnaire’s steward took away my father's hunting rights for an entire month last season just because he couldn't track a wolf that was scaring the Legionnaire’s stallions! He couldn't hunt anywhere in the whole county and the steward had his men check to make sure my father wasn't bringing in any new furs or meats."

"Wh-what? Why would the steward do that?"

"I don't know. Because he's an ass. Because he can. He wanted to pressure my father into tracking a wolf. But my father's no idiot. One demand would only lead to another, and he had been putting them off for ages, telling the steward he didn't have the skill. He wanted to wait for the Legionnaire’s return to ask for his rights back, but Kallow was called away again before he could get an audience. Why do you think Renas found a dead wolf under a tree? You really think a wolf would die to a tree fall?"

"I.. I…"

"My father caught the wolf and bound it, then he and Renas pushed the tree over. He couldn't be the one who did it otherwise the steward would always come to him for every stupid thing with the threat of his hunting rights hanging over his head."

"I didn't know…"

"You don't know a lot. It's not just my father, every family is under the boot of Kallow's Sealed. Why do you think Elder Sharp is never home and no longer farms his—"

"Oh good, you boys are finally awake."

Brint whipped his head and found Syl standing to his side with a grim smile curved on her face. This time, unlike the times he'd seen her before, there was no wry humor in her eyes. They looked dead.