"So, that were all the craftsmen inside the village. There are a few farms further away and some lumberjacks inside the forest that come here from time to time. But you will most likely not meet them in the near future."

They had walked through the entire village, and stopped by every house so Jonas could tell him something about the inhabitants. Almost all of that was gossip, that would sometimes date back as far as a hundred years. It truly was a gift to remember everything so effortlessly for him.

And now they were finally walking the path to the lighthouse.

It was beautiful. Though most humans wouldn't think about it like that. They would think it was an eerie place that should be avoided at all costs. It was only natural for non-magical creatures to avoid all places surrounded by magic. That was the best defence mechanism in the world.

The trees surrounded the path in every direction. And with the constant turning, it was effectively impossible to see the village after walking only a few metres. Though if that was all, most humans around this side of the world wouldn't think too much of it. Places like that were quite a common occurrence here.

So that wasn't the reason why Jonas almost immediately stopped talking when they left the town. It had more to do with the tree branches, they appeared to be everywhere; and even though your brain knew they were unable to move, you would think they were approaching you. Trying to capture you, and drag you into the depths of the forest. Never to be seen again.

But these weren't that uncommon either. People disappearing like he had, and never to be seen again, which luckily didn't include him, happened from time to time.

It had mostly to do with the fact that it was dark. Barely any light could fall on the path, because of the branches.

Over the years the trees had grown till the top parts were touching, entwined. After that, the trees from both sides of the path became one. Intertwining at every opportunity, till it was impossible to tell one tree apart from the next.

Now they had formed an impenetrable arc that reached from the beginning till the end of the road. Though there were still some parts where light was able to touch the forest floor, it did absolutely nothing to erase the eerie feeling the surroundings gave.

Fortunately for Jonas did the forest know not to mess with an ancient warlock, and it stayed out of their way.

After an awkward walk of around thirty minutes they left the forest and reached the dunes. Now that the oppressive feeling of the surrounding forest had disappeared Jonas was again more than willing to fill the silence with mindless chatter.

"So... I did read your name on the form that the committee sent. But..." He trailed for a second time. Clearly unwilling to ask the obvious question he had.

"Hiem, you can call me Hiem." The short answer was the push Jonas apparently needed to really start talking.

Though the warlock didn't really listen.

"Well Heim, that's a beautiful name. Hopefully you can make it a reality here with your daughter. For that you'll need something or someone else. And—"

The warlock had since long stopped listening. If he wanted to preserve his sanity in this remote place, that was a skill he would need to cultivate once again. Because it had become clear that Jonas wouldn't leave him alone in the foreseeable future. He was already missing the quietness he had had during his lone journey. Though it was a lot safer to just endure the rambling sound.

And now that they had reached the lighthouse, he could finally calculate how long it would take to turn the ruin into a livable environment.

You couldn't see through the tower so that was a relief, but the roof of the house was gone. And if the smell was any indication, then there was wildlife living in it.

Altogether it was honestly better than he had expected it to be, considering that it had been abandoned for more than a year. It was possible to start living here almost immediately, after throwing any animal out that didn't get the clue. It wouldn't be optimal, but it was good enough for the foreseeable future.

Maybe he could get some help from the forest, and he had his magic of course. With their help he would fix this place fast, and make it livable again.

"It's pretty bad isn't it? You're sure you'll be able to live here?"

"It will take some work but it won't be a problem for me."

"Well if you're so determined, then I think we should go back to the village. Morgan said he had still some wood over from the repairs he made to his boat. I'm sure he'll be willing to help us restore your house. And my wife can ask if some of the women have some clothes or other house supplies. Because I saw you didn't have anything with you when you walked into the village. Of course you'll need to be able to cook for yourself and your daughter."

While he was happily talking, Jonas turned them around so they could walk back to the village. Taking the longer road over the beach ensured they didn't need to walk through the forest again.

But the warlock was still dumbfounded why Jonas was talking about an 'us'. When there was quite clearly no 'us', just a him. Why would the people in the village help him? He was just a stranger who would now live in their town.

Then he realised they obviously just wanted a working lighthouse again, to ensure their safe travels on the sea once more. And for that they would also need him functioning as best as he could. That was clearly the reason they were helping him.

Because when they re-entered the village, Jonas immediately started asking around for help. It wasn't just Morgan and some woman offering help. To the warlock it felt like the entire village had come to his aid, and they acted like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. While it clearly wasn't.

So when they reached the lighthouse once more there were more than enough hands to help him renovate it. It even left him enough time to take care of his daughter, who luckily was in fact female, something he had stupidly just assumed. That would have given the village something to gossip over, if he hadn't known his child's sex.

When she was clean and presentable again, there were more than enough hands willing to look after her while he helped with the build.

In the end he left her in the hands of Lize, the widow of the former blacksmith. Not because he trusted her the most, but because he smelled dormant magic on her. She would know not to talk if she saw something unusual about Kleia.

Because he was taller than most of the villagers, he was positioned near the foot of the lighthouse. That way he could help the men near the top by giving them the wooden planks, which they then would use to repair the lighthouse.

While he was assisting by the lighthouse, others were busy with the house. And after three hours or something the warlock had time to look around. He saw that it was almost repaired already. And after another half an hour, the men who had previously been busy with the house came to the lighthouse to try and finish that too before the sun would set.

"Hé Heim, do you think we can finish this before dark? Or should we just go back home and finish tomorrow?" Before the warlock could fully comprehend what he was just asked. Morgan, one of the fishermen, continued talking. "Personally I suggest we go back home. We wouldn't want to be outside with the kids in this place. And," the smile he previously had on his face changed to something mischievous, "after a hard day of work we could have a little party in Jonas' inn. Good idea right? We could even make a small bonfire and call it a mid-season celebration."

The warlock didn't really know with which part of this small speech he had the biggest problem. The fact that his name was wrongly being spread, or that someone suggested that he should drink alcohol and enjoy it, with a lot of people for an undeterminated amount of time. Probably the alcohol and human part. A new name wasn't really something he was going to fret about. Though how he should react to it he didn't know.

Luckily he was saved by Lize. "Morgan, everyone knows you don't need a reason to drink in the inn. Nor anyone else who is living here needs a reason for a party." Morgan at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed about being called out like this. "So don't bother Heim, and just finish the job you clearly can finish before dark. That way everyone can get back to work tomorrow."

With a mumbled excuse towards the warlock, Morgan quickly leaves. When the warlock starts to follow him he's stopped by Lize putting her hand in front of him. "Don't let them bother you too much. They mean well, most of the time. They are just not used to new people. Especially not the ones that are strange and reek of magic." That last sentence was softly muttered, so that only the warlock could hear it. "That said if you ever need help with something unusual, just ask."

With that promise made she swiftly left him with Kleia in his arms. It was only because of the fact that there wasn't something for him to do anymore. But otherwise he would have needed to find someone else to watch Kleia. Someone he didn't slightly trust. Because with Lize walking back to the village through the woods, he lost his babysitter.

"Well that was the last beam, let's go back home." With one last satisfying hit of his hammer, Jonas stepped on the ground and turned around. "I know Morgan was joking about a party, but I think it's an amazing idea. After a long day of helping a neighbour we deserve some fun."

The cheers of the other townspeople were in clear support for the suggestion. So without further ado, everyone cleaned up and walked back to the village.

Naturally they took the long road back along the beach. The adults chatting together and watching the kids run around, trying to catch the wind.

This feeling of belonging, of having a family. Wasn't foreign to the warlock, Heim. Once upon a time he had been one of those kids chasing the moonlight. He hoped more than anything that this, this, fairytale wouldn't end. Not like what happened to his village. So he could guarantee Kleia's childhood would be without that loss.