Wren had seen a lot in her 24 years of life. She had witnessed war and death, heard the screams of those desperate for help, and experienced the deafening silence of those who had given up. The same silence now filled the house. She couldn't quite pinpoint what was wrong, but she had developed a keen sense for it. Even with her magic out of control, beckoning her to ignore whatever was going on, she just knew something was amiss. And once again, her senses were unfortunately correct.
Simon had been pleading with her for days to rest, but she always told him she got plenty of sleep each night. She could tell this answer annoyed him, but she couldn't help but smile a little inside. Even if he didn't show it expressively, his little tells made her smile. He always looked so cute when annoyed, though she knew he would get confused by her comments and disagree. But she knew it was starting to really bother him, so she relented and agreed to at least take a bath. It was while she was in the middle of preparing the bath that the feeling began to weigh on her—the feeling that something was wrong.
Wren watched the tub fill with water for a moment. She knew Simon would tell her to just ignore it and get in the tub; he was desperate for her to leave something alone for once. But whenever she left something alone, she knew something bad was bound to happen instead. In an instant, she shut off the water, slipped her slippers back on, and ran downstairs. Something was deeply wrong; the air felt heavy with the sense of dying dark magic. Why was dark magic in the air? It was only ever really present anymore if Jack was losing control.
She knew she wasn't being quiet in her urgency, unintentionally capturing Simon's attention as she rushed down. He had called out to her, but whatever he had said was lost on her. She threw open the door to Jack's room, only to be met with a scene that looked like something right of her childhood.
Jack lay sprawled on the bed, his face pale and his body unnaturally still. Blood soaked the sheets beneath him, pooling around his wrist, which was still bleeding from a deep, jagged gash. The shard of his broken staff lay on the floor, glinting ominously in the dim light. It took almost everything in her to keep from screaming. The last time Wren had seen that much blood was from their time on Nod, but even then, she had never been this close to it.
Wren's breath caught in her throat as she took in the horrifying sight. Her mind raced, trying to process the scene before her, but all she could think about was that she was too late. She sensed Simon behind her as he caught up. She knew he was there and that he was also processing the scene now, but her head felt dizzy as she continued to stand and stare.
Simon watched Wren as she stared at the scene before them. Why wasn't she moving? She would have leapt into action by now, but she seemed frozen, as the endless rain outside had grown heavier. He didn't want to push her, but at the same time, Jack was surrounded by a lot of blood, and something needed to be done. He quietly moved past her, collecting his stardust and looking around for something to slow the bleeding while he searched for ingredients for his rhyme.
He worked quickly, wrapping a piece of blanket around Jack's wrist as he continued to feel Wren's stare from behind him. Simon wanted so badly to know what was going through her mind, but he pushed those thoughts aside as he focused on Jack. Once he had Jack's wrist wrapped, he reached into his pouch, pulled out some moss, and began reciting the rhyme while looking for something to mix it in. He found a small cup in the room, placed the moss into it, and mixed it with stardust and water.
His hands worked swiftly as he kneaded the mixture. He needed to be done with it already, but Wren was still desperately trying to interrupt his thoughts. He glanced at her occasionally. She continued to stand frozen and uncharacteristically silent. He wanted to go over to her, to bring her to a chair and ask her what was wrong. He wanted to hug her and comfort her, to let her know it would be alright, but he just couldn't do that right now.
Before he knew it, his mixture was done. He quickly went over to Jack, removed the makeshift bandage, and applied the mixture to the wound while singing the rhyme that would close it. He watched as Jack's skin began to mend itself, looking as if nothing had ever happened. The only sign of the injury was the blood pooled at the wrist and a white scar, adding to Jack's endless collection.
Simon sighed in quiet relief that the bleeding had stopped. He knew that even though he had fixed what was visible, they weren't quite out of the woods yet. He would need to get ahold of one of Jack's healing books to figure out what to do next, but for now, he knew getting Jack some water and keeping him lying down would do. He silently looked over at Wren, who still seemed stuck in place. He hated to ask her to do something, but he really needed her help.
"Wren?" he asked quietly, unwilling to break the silence. She continued to stare.
"Jenny, Jennifer," he said a little louder now, needing to capture her attention. He held his breath as she finally tore her gaze away from Jack and looked at him. He truly didn't want to bother her, to become another person asking for something, but he needed her back now. He felt guilty watching her become somewhat alert again, starting to process what had just happened and getting ready to spring into action.
"Please," he said quickly, interrupting her before she took control of the situation. Even though he needed her right now, he didn't want her to stress over it. "Just bring some water."
Wren scanned the room, finally starting to get a sense of what had happened, and left quickly to do so. Simon's mind raced as he tried to figure out what would happen next. Whatever it was, Jack was going to live, and he was going to get Wren to sit down and talk to him.
