He wasn't a strong child, I remember. And in the early days he suffered from separation anxiety, often clinging to the nearest adult in sullen silence. Perhaps it stemmed from his abandonment as a child. He would cling to the coattails of anyone who would let him, and one in particular seemed to seek him out when he traveled with us. Her name was Magdalene, although most children called her by the unfortunate nickname Maggie. She was a kind and gentle woman, the kind who always had a smile and a gentle hug for everyone she met along the way. There was no doubt in the world that Maggie was a witch, for she had a talent that the Irish had long since abandoned, even though we weren't called that at the time. No, the words we used were buried in time, hidden to avoid persecution and to protect the secrets we lived as everyday life. Maggie arrived with little pomp or circumstance, simply approaching as if she had been there that day. all the time and Tynan would become her shadow, never seen far from her, a black-haired child in the care of a gray-eyed witch. Every time he left, I wondered if he had taken it with him. But invariably, he would find himself clinging to someone else, and life went on. I think I was ten when he finally stopped clinging to people, so he was nine before he finally set his feet on the path to social independence. I was patient with him and soon discovered what spirit lived in that shaggy, black-haired head. He had the benefit of listening to adults, of learning secrets and things I could only speculate about, and in the end I think he turned out to be wiser. From then on, we were inseparable, brothers in nature, though. in a physical battle, he had little chance of resisting me. ... in the middle of the paper ... her, even if in the end she chose me. She asked him to tie the handfasting knot, and even though I know it broke his heart to do so, he did. I don't have a clear memory of returning from the battle in the southern areas... I don't understand what happened on the battlefield and how we survived. But we survived, and his joy when he took me to her was so painful to him that I think it was why he left us so suddenly. Only many years later would I see him again briefly. , and only fleetingly, as he fled from me as a ghost might flee from the splendor of the light. But even then, I had no reason to suspect that what had truly brought me back from that battlefield had not been luck, but something darker. I still don't know the extent of it, and given the few scattered interactions I've had with him since then, I may never truly learn.