There is no light without dark, and no norm without the unexpected. My charge had retreated into the woods just before dawn, the clothes of the fated awaiting her while I visited those I was due to call upon. It is true my companion and I are bound by duties of our own, but in times of disaster, there was no place I couldn't be. Observing one little girl would be of little consequence to my excursion. No one ever misses me. Indeed, they would rather I not turn up at all.

For all the bitterness between families, Oisín knew the girl well enough to rightly predict her return. I admit there is something to be said of children and their unquenchable thirst for love. Aoife returned to the baker's barely an hour past dawn, the morning chill leaving her cheeks pink and skin paler than usual. A tattered scarf had hastily been wrapped around her frame, something she didn't look particularly pleased about—no doubt an addition made at her father's insistence. Her walk was thankfully quiet. I don't suppose many have cause to venture outside. Apart from the businessmen, of course. Even as his cousin approached the humble shop, Nolan was sealing the wrappings with soda bread—that and other treats to sell over his three-day trip to Roscommon. He had only stepped into a small room behind the counter to do so when he heard his father.

"Rather early for you to be here, wouldn't you say?" Aye, especially if it's one of the regulars. He didn't catch much of a response. Perhaps there wasn't any at all. Early buyers tended to just grunt or huff their greetings these days anyway. Those that came later in the day were hardly better; they just sounded less grumpy and more tired. Nolan turned his attention back to his father's voice.

"Ai, come 'ere lass, you can stop searching for him now. No, no, he hasn't left yet. He's just at the back, packing up. Go on, I'm sure he won't mind."

"What, no, da—" But the door creaked open even before he could voice his protest. He groaned. "Ai, just come on in." He certainly didn't look like he meant it, I assure you. To nobody's surprise, let alone mine, the door shut with a squeak of what could've been an apology. "Aoife?" A muttered curse and a long-suffering sigh later, he dropped the package none-too-gently and rushed out, muttering.

"Aoife!" He quickly manoeuvred his way, past the meagre furnishings of the shop, to where she had stopped, getting as close to her as he dared, which wasn't much. "I... wasn't expecting you, is all." A pause. "Come with me?" She looked back at Oisín, who nodded with a small smile. "It's warmer in there, at the very least," he said. One would say that a man would vouch for his son regardless, but clearly, the baker had her trust. She followed, slowly pulling the door close behind her.

"You're not cold? Or sleepy? It is quite early."

"No," came the rather indignant reply. "I'm no child!"

"I meant no offence," Nolan said, offering a tentative smile when he noticed how mortified the girl looked. "Look, like I said, I just didn't think you'd be here so early. I assumed... well, I assumed it was a suitor for new money, if I must be honest with you. What brings you here at such an hour?" He didn't repeat that it was much too early, knowing Aoife would likely storm out if anyone pointed it out to her again. "I didn't think Liam would be too happy with it."

"Da doesn't mind," she said pointedly. "He just dropped me off." A brief pause, when she realised she hadn't really answered the question. "I never thanked you for the other day. Uncail Oisín said you'd be leaving, and..."

"Well," he said, placing another neat pack of bread by his side. "I'll be back soon. Roscommon is not too far."

"Oh."

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was that of packages of bread softly hitting the floor where they were being piled carefully. The pair of them worked quickly, neither quite knowing what to say to the other. Ah, if only they truly saw each other, they would not fear rejection so much! Evidently, the baker was of the same mind as I if he wasn't the least bit worried. Then again, children tended to be loud, and there was no evidence of an ongoing argument, if indeed there was one.

"Come along, Aoife." The last of the breads was packed. It was time to leave. Once Aoife had crossed the threshold, Nolan shut the door behind him.

"All set?"

"Yes, da. It should be a quiet journey."

"Any word from Aódhan?"

"Tipperary doesn't seem to be doing much better than us, but sales were better this time around. Word is, people have started taking new jobs. He said he looks to return by tomorrow."

"That is well."

Nolan made a non-committal humm. "I best get going. See you in three days!" He had all but walked out of the small shop when he turned around. "Stay away from the forest when I'm gone?"

Aoife startled from where she'd been fiddling with her gown. She flushed and nodded, and then, he was gone. Just like that, it was over, the meeting she had worried about all morning and the night before.

"Well?"

"Oh, uh...we... spoke? A bit. And packed up." A dreadfully normal conversation, if it could be called that at all.

Oisín only chuckled. "You know, he thought you'd hate him after the other day."

"I don't!" Though I think he dislikes me now. A brief pause. "Why would he think that?"

"For the same reason it took you days to accept anything I gave you. He was worried about what your aintín Alma would say. Not that she knows," he added. A small reassurance, if anything. His smile slowly drew out into a thin line. "Do you remember what I told you that day, Aoife?"

"Yes." They were both solemn now. "That it will be a tough year, just like da said. And it was okay to take help."

"Hmm... and?"

A twinkle as she meets Oisín's eyes. "We are still family."

"That we are! Well," he said, rising with a slight grunt. "Looks like the people are out and about. I better go set things up, 'twill get busy soon. What possessed Liam to let you out so early anyway?"

"He caught me the moment I got out of bed," the girl admitted bashfully. "But I told him why I had to come, so he agreed to drop me by the street before he went off to work."

Oisín nodded thoughtfully as he went about clearing the counters and arranging the display. "Sounds like him. I still wish he'd be around more often. A young lass like you ought not to be going about all alone."

"Uncail! I am grown now! And da just found his new job. I will be fine!"

"Of course, a leanbh! Hurry along now, before you get lost between the shelves," he said good-naturedly. "I will see you tomorrow."

Aoife hesitated, making a show of straightening her clothes as she rose to leave. It scared her, no doubt, the thought of meeting another cousin who had possibly spent years pretending she did not exist. But perhaps she found some hidden courage, or maybe the baker was her only 'friend', so she waved her goodbyes, agreeing to come.

It would have heartened my companion some, if I had stayed longer, but I left her just as she crossed the threshold into her home. Her eye caught the treeline once, but the promise must have been fresh on her mind. It was for the better; wails from various households rose in a morbid chorus. Which of those voices belonged to my own charge, I never could tell. I suppose such things never made a difference.

It was by the river that we met again, deep within the forest, when the sun had retreated into the farthest reaches of the world. The dipping and wringing of clothes quickly joined the gurgling river. It was a while before the silence was broken at all, and even then, it was under the pretence of enquiring about the state of the town. Suffice to say, I could not stall for long.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"Maybe."

"Why not?" She sounded indignant now, any act of washing completely abandoned. Her hand dripped wet from where she had firmly placed them on her hips, having risen from her place by the river. All in all, she looked very much like the girl whose comings and goings she wanted to hear of.

"The day-to-day life of an adolescent girl is hardly entertaining. Although, it might interest you to know that she is no longer avoiding her cousins."

"Cousins? There's another one?"

"I'd hardly be surprised, but yes. She promised to meet her uncle tomorrow. I'm not all that certain she knows she's meeting her cousin too."

The implication of Aoife listening to anything her cousins had to say wasn't lost on her. "They will not let her come back. Will they?"

"Not by choice, no. Indeed, she promised she'd stay away, but the girl might come regardless. After all, they have only been recently reacquainted. I doubt it would weigh on her heavily, should she break her promise as she no doubt wishes to."

She scoffed at that. There was a distinct bitterness to it, and when she spoke again, it was with a weariness borne through the years. "It would be for the better that she doesn't. Nothing good will come of us. It never has, and it never will."

A valid statement, though one easily dismissed. "That she has been around us makes no difference. Ere long, there will be none in town who can claim to remain untouched by our shadow."

The inevitability of Saol's fate must have become all the more clear to her then, for she paused. "Why?"

I raised an eyebrow before counting down with my fingers. "Hunger, cold, ill—"

"No. Why are you so insistent?"

"You need her." There was no need to embellish. It was just another truth she hoped to outrun.

"When has that ever mattered to our kind?" Her voice cracked as she faced me, eyes blazing red.

"It matters now. Come here." She joined me beneath the tree, a child, as she sat herself down on my lap, burying her face against the folds of my cloak. I wrapped an arm around her, the other carding through her hair.

"Would it be so bad?" She asked suddenly, tilting her face to see mine.

I looked down at her. "The end, as the town believes? It depends. It won't take them all quickly, nor will it be gentle. But humans recover."

"No," she murmured. "Whatever awaits me, would it be so bad if it happens?" she asks before turning away. "It must be something, if you would rather I mingle with the living."

"Whatever it is, I do not want that for you. You will not become another whisper in the wind." I knew even as I said it, it was the wrong thing to say. And so it was, to her. That choice is not yours to make for me! she'd all but screamed as she pushed herself off onto the forest floor, but oh, it was. She was mine to protect since the day she died; nothing she did or said would stop me from leaving her own sorrows to haunt the living. That the dying heard her was enough.