Naeva-To Fight a Monster

Chapter 3

Naeva vaguely noted an oddly spicy, yet sweet, smell as she entered Molly's house.

"How was the search?" Molly asked offhandedly, adding a pinch of some spice or another to the simmering pot.

Naeva grunted. At Molly's insistence, she'd received a haircut. It was barely any longer than that of the boys in town, but at least it was neatly done. She hadn't had a comb or a brush in ages; this was a refreshing change.

Even with the new haircut and somewhat restored physical build, no one had hired her. She had tried applying for simple, peaceful jobs, but the people hiring had rejected her politely.

They all had their reasons, but Naeva saw their discomfort. She always glanced at potential escape routes while she spoke, and her hand twitched towards her staff at the slightest unexpected sound. They knew she was paranoid, as did she, but old habits, especially ones that had kept her alive since childhood, didn't easily remove themselves.

"You look tired," Molly noted.

Naeva glanced at her. "Not tired. Annoyed."

Molly nodded and didn't speak. Probably wise. As stubborn as she'd been about avoiding fights, Naeva was itching to pull her staff out of its sling, and whoever prodded her next was not likely to have a good time.

She sat down, emotionally exhausted. Resisting the urge to let her mind shut down just yet, she said, "That's a new smell. What are you cooking?"

Molly added a dash of something red and stirred it in; the smell grew spicier. "It's a mutton stew, in the style of the eastern peaks. Polina's visiting again tonight, and she's bringing Erin Snell, a woman from her order. Polina said something about a girls' night, and this is Erin's favorite."

That did admittedly sound nice, but something about the circumstances made Naeva suspicious. "Polina's already visiting again?"

"Mm-hm."

"And she's bringing one of her guild members?"

"Order members," Molly corrected. "A lot of them are more like corporations than guilds. Small distinction, but it's an important thing to remember."

Naeva scowled. "She's trying to recruit me again."

"Possibly," Molly said, picking up the ladle and taking a sniff. Her brow furrowing, she reached for the spice rack again.

"She's persistent," Naeva said, feeling an urge to press the subject. "It hasn't even been a week since she found out I was here. She's starting to get annoying."

Molly selected a bottle and knocked four puffs of spicy-smelling powder into the stew. "I think your own stubbornness is the main thing that makes it annoying. She thinks you would do well in Lowly Champion. What's wrong with that?"

Naeva grunted again.

Molly chuckled and gave the stew a taste. Looking satisfied, she turned down the stove and moved to the table. She sat down and silently watched Naeva sulk.

After a minute or so, Molly's silence started to make Naeva uncomfortable, so she said, "The, uh, the stew's done, right? When are the others going to—?"

The door opened and Polina walked in, wearing jeans, a sweater, and a pleasant smile. Prepared for her, Naeva didn't react to this. Her eyes widened, however, the moment she saw the woman behind her. The woman wore torn jeans and a T-shirt, but that only seemed to accent the rest. Her hair seemed to flow, even at only shoulder-length, and the way she walked seemed to radiate confidence. She bore a proud figure that Naeva had never associated with fighters.