"BUGGER!!"
She crashed to the ground, shoes scuffed with dirt, kicking up dust in her wake. The fall was harsh and unforgiving, and the sword that landed at her neck was just the same, glinting in the afternoon sun.
"Point," Came Beathán's voice, again.
Again and again, he gave her no leeway for being a complete failure. Sighing, irritated, she batted the blunt metal away from her with the back of her hand.
"Yeah, yeah. You win, you..." Her voice lowered into an aggravated mutter, "Absolute troglodyte..."
The afternoon was alight with laughter from those on the sidelines. Their spars weren't much of a spectacle since the outcome was always the same, but sometimes people stopped by to watch just because.
In this case, a small crowd had bunched up nearby, comprised mainly of gossiping teenagers chatting away with Gayle and a couple hunters returning from the forest. Most of the onlookers were simply passing by and stopped for a quick chat, the one-sided onslaught being little more than background visuals. They still found the time to 'oooo' and wince whenever Y/N received a particularly hard counter or laugh when she predictably hit the ground. There were a few motivating cheers whenever she was able to take her teacher off guard, as well.
There were whispers from a group of older mothers further out. They stood by a storefront, hair pulled back in conservative buns and braids, eyelashes flickering over disdainful eyes, hands clasped over murmuring voices as they shared looks between them.
But Y/N didn't see them. Didn't notice the way they lingered on the sword loosely held in the young adult's ringless fingers before padding off with baskets of herbs and fruit towards their children playing in the streets.
Y/N did notice the way one young girl tried to scurry forward excitedly through the wide berth between the two adults and the sidelines, only for a father to grab her arm and pull her away. He had been a particularly vocal individual, but it seemed his fascination with the fight ended there. And when they made eye-contact, his eyes were the ones that looked away first.
Ouch.
"If you're frustrated," Startled by the sound of Beathán's voice, Y/N turned her head back to him, "You should quit effective immediately."
He had misread the trickling pain of her expression (her gritted teeth and upturned brows,as if she'd received a blow herself) as a sign of her bruised ego.
"I, honest to the Goddess, hate you and everythin you stand for."
"It should be easy to quit, then. You're not making any headway."
"Looks like you're the one who wants to quit, old man."
He heaved a sigh of defeat, as if he couldn't quite argue against what she was saying, and that fact made him upset. Out of the blue, from over her shoulder, an arm extended out, offering a glass of water. After getting over her initial surprise, she turned and gave the owner of said arm her full attention.
"You did good, kid. You did good," Dareth grinned from overhead, "Keep in mind that the guy is a trained soldier. None of us could beat him, not even me... as I am now. Once I reach my final form..."
"Certainly," The veteran rolled his eye.
With a huff, she took the cup and downed the whole thing before handing it back, using her free hand to wipe her mouth.
"Yeah, well, I've been at it for over a year, and I still haven't gotten any closer to wipin that cocky look off his stupid face."
"You never will. If that was your goal, then you'd give up if you knew what was best for you."
The look on Y/N's face was priceless. It sent Beathán into a fit of laughter (or the restrained chuckles and puffs of air from his nostrils- the only way he ever truly laughed since he was so disciplined), which only served to intensify the young woman's aggravation. She ripped some stray grass out of the ground with a closed fist, and, noticing her plight, Dareth patted her shoulder.
He had told her that her shift could be covered for the day after she arrived in the late morning and had touched on the Black Annis situation, so Dareth had encouraged her to spend the rest of the day with her sister.
Y/N very rarely brought Dwyn into town. Part of the reason was because of the protections on the house, which made it the safest place for someone who kept getting repeatedly targeted by mystical child eaters. The pathway could be dangerous for Dwyn if they left town late and the damned nutters were persistent enough. Y/N certainly didn't bring her musket to town, and her crappy, unpolished sword play would be a delay of the inevitable at best, no matter what nonsense Beathán spouted to make her feel better.
Thankfully, Black Annis were nocturnal creatures and rarely ventured into the daytime, as were most Fey, so there was no physical threat right now. Except for the tangible embarrassment felt at yet another failed match. Either way, Y/N felt comfortable leaving Dwyn at home after serving the youngster some blueberry porridge for breakfast and spending the majority of the morning at her side, assessing whether she could even be left to her devices.
Dwyn had seemingly mentally recovered from the day prior. She was a happy-go-lucky kid who bounced back quickly from things that upset her, and it seemed that confirmation that her tormenter had been taken care of had given her a spring in her step.
Y/N wanted to hurry back to her as quickly as possible, but getting some training for a couple hours was important in case they were attacked directly. Besides, renewing the barrier would require her actively venturing into the forest, and she didn't want to go in there unprepared. She needed to be able to defend herself, or else Dwyn would be left alone with no guardian. The plan was to take off back home sooner rather than later.
Her foot was aching, though. Probably better to stop here.
"Heeeey, don't say that," Dareth scolded the veteran, "She's trying her best. Even if she sucks..."
From across the way, a few of her co-workers began heading towards them at a leisurely pace. Notably, Gayle was chatting lightly with Malik, who looked way better than he had the day before.
"You're both terrible," She cursed, and Beathán, being a horrible, awful person, only laughed openly in response, "You're terrible!!"
"Wow, and after the pep talk I gave you?"
"You just said I sucked, you absolute twit! What kinda pep talk is that??"
"Where is the lie, though?" Inquired Ingrid, who stopped before them.
"Oh, great. You're here, too."
As much as Ingrid was funny and relatable, when her sardonic attitude was directed to Y/N, it was infinitely less funny.
"She's just a sore loser," Still, Beathán held a hand out to her, and she took it, allowing herself to be pulled to her right foot, where she hopped for a moment before swinging her left foot forward and distributing her weight equally.
It was a weird little habit of hers. Beathán thought it was sort of cute. Like a rabbit.
She readjusted her grip on the dusty broadsword in her right hand, which was significantly weighed down. Quickly, she grasped the handle with both hands instead.
"It was a good try, Gloria!" Gayle beamed.
"You lasted longer than I would've."
"That's because you've literally never held a sword before," Y/N shot Malik a look, and he quickly held his hands up in a surrender motion.
"Calm down! I mean, yeah, I probably could do better-"
"Just stop talking," Ingrid waved a 'stop' hand gesture in front of the teen's face, recalling their conversation from the evening before.
Dareth took a few tentative steps away from the scene towards the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder firmly.
"She has a point, Malik. Never tell a woman to 'calm down'... it just makes them angrier. And Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned..."
"You have no experience with women, Dareth. That's not advice you can give," Ingrid thwacked the man on the back of his slick-haired head, much to his chagrin, "Getting serious, though, you can't expect to ever beat him, Gloria. The guy's a monster. You're not even in the same weight class."
"If I can't beat Beathán, I'll never be able to beat anyone larger than me," Y/N grumbled, picking at the dirt with the tip of the blade.
"Do you even need to?" Malik asked, "Do you think you'll be fighting a bear in the future? Just learn the crossbow or something. Hang on- didn't Rick have a muske- OW!"
Gayle yanked on the boy's ear harshly, cutting off his question with an apologetic smile sent Y/N's way. It seemed most everyone was aware of how Cedric was still a sensitive subject for the girl. Perhaps most people would feel insulted or patronised that they tiptoed around eggshells when it came to a topic that should be long dead and buried, but just the thought of talking about her older brother sent a sharp pain in her chest.
She couldn't help but be thankful for the gesture, as Malik was released from Gayle's unforgiving death grip.
"It was my dad's musket," She corrected nonchalantly, "And anyways, I know how to use that- but it works so slow, and the recoil is brutal. I need to have some melee combat to even out my spread, ye kna...? I live out in the woods, so fightin creatures is a very real possibility, like."
Even if bears wouldn't be in this region of Opia. Bears were actually the least of her worries. Better safe than sorry, right?
"Ooooohhhhh, that tracks, yeah," Malik straightened up, "Wouldn't it be safer to move into town, though? Then you wouldn't need t-"
"No."
"Okay- geez! Sorry for even suggesting it, damn..." The brunette boy huffed, folding his arms and turning away from the young woman's sharp glare.
Thankfully, Gayle stepped in to ease the tension. She clasped her hands together at her chest, eagerly jumping into the conversation.
"You had a good go at it! I was rooting for you! Don't be discouraged by the loss. Nobody else could get as far as you did."
"That's true..." Ingrid brushed some of her short auburn hair over her ear and out of the way.
Despite it being undeserved, the praise was nice to hear.
"Thanks... I'm glad you think so," Y/N admitted bashfully.
"Don't encourage her too much. She's supposed to be demoralised and eventually quit," Beathán complained, a hand pressed to his forehead as if all this commotion was giving him a headache.
"Shutty. You can't discourage an unpolished gem, Beathán. You'll lower her self-esteem," Gayle scolded.
"I am of the belief-" Beathán cut himself off before he could say anything more.
"It doesn't hurt to have a skill like this under your belt," Ingrid raised a hand, calling attention to her own addition to the conversation, "If it's because you're leaving soon and can't do it anymore, just say so."
As Ingrid shot a look at Beathán, all he could do was frown deeply.
"... That's not the issue here."
"What is the issue, then?" When Beathán sheepishly struggled to answer without sounding mean, Gayle turned to Y/N, "Glory, it's good that you're persistent with him. He's an unreliable man."
"That's not true. Glory will never succeed in beating me even if she trains her whole life- she has not a shred of natural talent for swordsmanship. I've trained recruits before, and in spite of whether they're green, most of them have a lot of potential to be shaped into fine young warriors. Not once have I had the same thought about Glory."
'Well... that's not disheartening at all...' She visibly deflated.
"Because she's a young woman?" Gayle inquired, genuinely curious.
"No, I have trained women before," Noticing Y/N's downtrodden appearance, he patted the top of her head, affectionately, "It's not that you're hopeless, but you'll never be on the same level as any of the people I've fought or trained. You should quit while you're ahead."
"That's not gunna happen," She shoved his hand away.
"It would make both of our lives easier if you did. Most of my trainees were able to disarm me at least once within fifteen months."
"I'm not quittin."
He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, only slightly irritated.
"You're far too stubborn for your own good."
"Isn't that why you keep me around?" Y/N grinned, smugly.
Somehow, the older man seemed incredibly embarrassed by the observation and glanced away. As the surrounding crowd started dispersing while the two bickered, Patricia from the Keys Inn passed them on by. Y/N felt something hollow out in her centre.
Beathán waved in acknowledgment. It was a stilted motion that invaded his back and forth with his student, and everyone quickly looked to the direction he seemed to be aiming at.
"It's Patty," Ingrid commented, belatedly.
"Oh hoho...!" Gayle smirked, leaning towards the towering man, "What's the story there??"
Patricia also sent a small, awkward wave their way before turning quickly with a frown and leaving to join some older women who had been chatting during the whole ordeal. The group quickly left after that, but not before the dark-haired innkeeper glanced over her shoulder and then turned her back entirely.
Absently, Y/N wondered what her expression was, obscured by the shade of a passing tree.
"There is no story," It was the same tone of voice he'd use if he were pulling moss out of divots of stone brick, "She runs the inn that I've taken up residency within."
"With-inn, you could say," Y/N smirked.
"Funny."
Gayle stared at him, expectantly, as if waiting for him to give the juicy details. When he just looked back at her, uncomprehendingly, she quickly became displeased.
"What, that's it? Sounds like a romance for the ages..." She muttered sarcastically.
"Pardon?"
"Romance is dead."
"I only waved because I saw her."
"If you knew how to treat a lady, it would be a secret gesture between two lovebirds with a deeper meaning. I can't believe your life is really this boring," She folded her arms, disappointed.
"Why would there be any hidden meaning a wave of all things? It's strange that you think that way."
"And she's married," Y/N noted absently.
"Secret affairs are entertaining!"
"That's..." He looked like he didn't even have the words to give her and just trailed off into stunned silence.
"That's bad, Gayle," Ingrid said, but she seemed amused all the same, "How would you get adultery from a wave?"
"I thought it was possible! I never said it was fact! By the Goddess- I didn't even say that! I just said there could be a hidden romance! Now, I'm saying there isn't, and that romance is dead."
"That's kinda soundin like a good thing from my perspective."
"Agreed," Ingrid gave a firm nod towards Y/N.
"She has a point, though. I've met six-year-olds with better game than you, Beathán," Malik snickered, "For a sec, it looked like you'd never even looked at a woman before."
"The awkwardness comes from the fact he's never spoken to a fair maiden before," Y/N put on a posh voice and held a palm up, as if declaring something to an object presented to the high heavens, "He doesn't know how to act around them."
She poked at his arm, teasingly. He turned his head towards her, his expression seeming bewildered.
"You think I've never talked to a woman?"
"Not even in passin."
"I was married," His eye narrowed in bemusement.
"Why d'you think you got divorced? It's hard to stay married when you never speak to your wife."
"That's not-" He cut himself off, knowing that talking about his marriage was a losing argument anyway, so he changed trajectories into a point he could make, "I'm a merchant. Building rapport with men and women is my entire job description... among other things."
Y/N's eyes slipped off his face like water and back to Ingrid as she smirked.
"Could've fooled me."
"And me," Malik tagged on.
The older man gave the pair a baffled expression, then shifted back to Y/N with the thought in his mind that Summerville's residents were truly strange.
"Well, you've definitely never taught anyone swordplay before. You're a terrible teacher."
He scoffed.
"You're the one who keeps insisting when I refuse," He lightly shoved her shoulder with his arm.
"You're the one who can't even wave at a woman without lookin constipated."
"Glory, you're gonna make him insecure," Ingrid flicked her forehead, and she flinched back, the pain spiking in her skin as she rubbed the spot.
"Ow! What the hell, mate??"
"Language," Dareth commented, also flicking her on the head.
"OW!"
How was 'hell' even considered a swear word?? Dareth said 'damn' all the time, the hypocrite! Glancing back up at Beathán, she found him looking stupidly entertained.
"Your reflexes require some work."
"Yeah, I got it!" She snapped, crossing both wrists over her forehead in case anyone tried to flick it again.
"Speaking of awkward exchanges-! How are things going with Ellowyn?" Gayle turned to Malik, changing the subject, "Did you talk to her today?"
Needless to say, he was not expecting to be put on the spot. Startled, his tanned cheeks deepened in colour as he avoided eye-contact, tripping over his words.
"N-Not yet... but I did talk with Caleb and..." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as his mood dampened, "You were right, Glory. Not completely, but... I miss my brother. I don't know when things are gonna get back to normal..."
Y/N... wasn't expecting that, with how set he'd been on winning Ellowyn's affections at his brother's expense. She was glad to hear he at least realised the consequences and wanted to fix things. It was a welcome change.
"They might never," Ingrid shrugged.
"Or they might," Gayle swiftly contradicted at the sight of the teen's frown.
"Yeahh, don't give up hope, man," Dareth lightly punched the boy's shoulder, "One day, he'll understand. You're brothers- family is family. It's not like you can give Ellowyn up to him."
Hey, Dareth finally got her name right! Good for him.
"I know. I don't think there was any way to win. I lose something no matter what."
"Sometimes it's like that..."
Honestly, Y/N didn't want to see another sibling relationship get ruined because of a whirlwind romance. Even if Malik and Ellowyn were built to last, Caleb and Malik should've been built to last, too. It really reminded her too much of Cedric.
She wondered if Cedric would've stayed if he'd received advice from someone like her. Whether they could've worked through things or whether he never truly wanted to work through things in the first place.
"You should marry and move out as soon as possible so we can have the house to ourselves."
As soon as a woman he wanted to start his own family with came into the picture, did he become dead set on abandoning his sister? Or was there a time when he, like Malik, wanted to work through things with her while keeping his relationship with his fiancée? And did he receive bad advice or no advice at all, which led him to leaving her behind?
"You know I want what's best for you. But I also have to think about what's best for us. Odette is my family now."
If they went back to the beginning, and Cedric was in front of her right then asking for advice on how to fix things with Y/N after their first big argument... what would she say to him? What would she suggest he do?
"You're turnin fifteen soon, so you should be thinkin about which boys from the village would be the best choice."
Putting her bitterness aside, could she tell him that both relationships could work out? Could she tell him that Y/N would be okay with it one day even after everything he said?
"I'll approve of whoever you pick. Just do it quickly. She said we could give you at least three months..."
She swallowed, looking Malik in his brownish eyes.
"Honestly, if you love each other enough, I'm sure you'll both recover."
"Agreed. Relationships are about compromise. That applies to family."
"You can't say that. You got divorced," Ingrid pointed a finger and then waved it up and down as if counting the buttons on Beathán's loose shirt, wholly unimpressed.
His lips thinned, and there was a slight grumpiness to his words that had no real fire to it.
"Divorce is a type of compromise."
"It might never be exactly the same... somethin like this will affect both of you for a long time," Y/N interjected, "But you'll be able to talk one of these days."
"Ellowyn should be your priority. The fight will be pointless if it doesn't work out between you two, and your brother will move on if he thinks you've moved on," Gayle advised.
"I definitely think that communication is key here, though," Y/N disputed, lightly, "I mean, leavin things as they are might be detrimental later on. Just give him some space for a while, do your thing, and then wait until he's ready to talk. You can apologise and talk things through then, like."
"Apologise??" Dareth questioned, taken aback, "You have nothing to apologise for, Malik. You were fighting for love, and you won. If Caleb had won, would he apologise to you?"
"I think he might've. And, anyway, you're not apologisin for winnin, in this case. You're apologisin because he got hurt, because you don't want to hurt your brother. Because you love him."
Y/N words seemed to strike a chord in the boy. Nervously, he turned it over in his head. Even then, the hesitancy was obvious in his face.
"Apologise...?"
"It's not that hard to say 'I'm sorry' if you really mean it. Does your pride really mean more to you than your brother?"
"... No..." He sighed, still looking a bit reluctant.
Y/N could never understand that. People seemed to have so much trouble apologising, and for what? What game are they losing if they say 'sorry' first? If you apologise, you can make someone you care about feel better, and if you don't, you let them hurt. Y/N could be competitive but never competitive enough to not apologise. She didn't lose anything by saying 'sorry', especially if she meant it.
"So, it'll be fine," She assured him before correcting her posture as an urge settled in her shoulder like an itch.
Carefully, she rested the broadsword in one hand and rolled her shoulder, listening to the muffled cracks that sounded like rocks scraping against each other beneath water until she was satisfied. Malik and Beathán both leaned away with mirrored distasteful looks.
"Gee- you ruined the moment! That's so gross!!" Malik called out.
"Kid... why?"
"My shoulder needed crackin," She deadpanned.
"Needed?"
"It felt weird!" She wasn't lying about that, it was like something had slid into her joint, leaving an odd sensation behind that could only be alleviated if she cracked it, "Your grossed out faces are definitely funny, though."
"Stop that, man!" Malik shivered, "You're being freaky."
"That's just how Glory is. You'll get used to it," Dareth squeezed his shoulder consolingly.
"Okay- says the spider-lover!?"
"You're still on that? Women-... women never change..."
"At least it wasn't the other shoulder. It does still kinda kill a bit," She patted her right shoulder, the one she'd used to shoot the musket last night.
It was probably bruising as they chatted.
"Cripes- that's right! You slayed a Fey last night!" Malik brightened as if he suddenly forgot how the conversation led to this point, "How was it? Did it really look like an old lady?"
"Have you never seen a Black Annis?" Beathán asked, raising a brow.
"No, the adults always dealt with them back when I was a kid, so I haven't seen one."
"Ugh, we're not even close to being that lucky..." Ingrid muttered.
"I think if you see a Black Annis in person as a child, that likely means you're not coming back to tell the tale," Gayle shrugged, "I've only seen one once when we joined the mass emigration through the badlands. They had a whole manhunt when they nabbed a child from one of the wagons."
"Wh- really??" Malik yelped.
"I did. Sadly, the poor boy died," She brushed some fingers through her wavy fringe, a despondent look catching her face, "I was part of the action. I grabbed a torch and went with one of the search parties while my husband stayed back to protect the children."
"He let you go alone?" Ingrid questioned, concerned.
"I wasn't alone. I was with a group of people, and I was only there because I wanted to confirm the boy's safety. I wasn't in any danger."
"You never know when it comes to the badlands," Beathán shook his head, his visage unreadable.
"I'm here now," Gayle smirked.
The badlands (aka, the Fey Wild) were an exceptionally dangerous place with many twisted tales behind its creation. A huge, thick forest where if you ventured deep enough, the canopy could be so dense that it would block all light from above. Yet grass still thrived on the forest floor. It was nothing like the forests here, where grass was sparse beneath the trees and only thrived under the patches where sunlight broke through irrefutably.
Technically, all forests on the continent were once connected to the badlands. You could say that the badlands are the heart of all nature. That's one of the reasons it was so dangerous. Those with control over nature- the Faer- protected it, and those part of nature- Feyries- they thrived in it.
"What did the Black Annis look like when you saw it??"
Gayle looked oddly excited to share the details, and Malik looked oddly excited to hear about it (although perhaps that was out of morbid curiosity), as Gayle leaned in conspiratorially.
"I didn't get a good look at it, but from what I saw, it was like the soul had been shocked out of it's body- like it'd been hit by lightning! It had white hair and it's mouth was so huge when it was open that it's jaw came down to here," She chopped at the centre of her chest, "That aside, it was basically just an elderly person, I suppose..."
"That's... an image..." Ingrid grimaced.
"What about you, Glory?" Malik turned to her, interested, "Did it look the same?"
"Sayin it looked like an old person would be puttin it kindly. Honestly, it looked more like an old hag's corpse than anythin human, like."
"So... like Margot...?" Gayle hummed, thoughtfully, only to receive a disapproving thwack on the shoulder from Ingrid.
However, the others were seemingly cracking up. Dareth's face was red with effort as he held his lips tightly together, smacking Malik's lowered shoulder with the effort to hold back his laughs. The younger boy leaned forward with a hand over his mouth to smother the sounds threatening to break free. Y/N let out a surprised laugh at the comment but all giggles that followed were more like amused puffs of air from her nostrils, and when she glanced up at Beathán, he looked away, but was clearly chuckling minutely under his breath.
"No, uglier."
"Wow, really? I didn't think that was possible!" Gayle gasped, but even then, there was an ever so slight snicker to her smile, and her eyes gleamed with encouragement to continue the story.
Well, her nickname wasn't 'Gayle Gossip' for nothing. Y/N thought for a moment on how to satisfy the brunette's curiosity. What would be the best description for the disgusting creature she saw last night?
"Its face was saggy like... a deflated ball. And its mouth was more like... an arsehole," Y/N supplied, awkwardly, "Or a tapeworm."
"That's disgusting," Ingrid's eyes were constricted, her face contorted in mild disgust as she unconsciously leaned away from the conversation as if a tapeworm would jump right out at her.
Y/N shrugged helplessly.
"I put a bullet in it, so it's not like it'll be botherin you guys."
"Did it have teeth? The one I saw didn't have teeth."
"Yeah- it had teeth like a leech, yeah. Just rows and rows of 'em stacked in there."
"Gross..." Malik repeated.
"You asked."
"Well done. You did a service by doing away with it, Gloria," Beathán praised, with a congratulatory pat to her shoulder.
"Funnily enough-" As always, her impulsivity almost made her make a mistake, but she stopped herself mid-sentence and tried to think of something else to say- "Uhhhhhh- um- I- I also got followed by a Mimic, too. Just a bit earlier than that."
Good save. How was she supposed to tell them that she was dealing with the Black Annis on a semi-regular basis? Encounters were actually supposed to be quite rare.
It was definitely just because a new Fey Circle had opened up somewhere. There was no other explanation. But they could draw from the past, they could make it up as they went along based on nothing.
"Ehhh- seriously? Aren't you popular?" Dareth couldn't exactly smile about it, though.
"You alright?" Ingrid's tired expression cleared up just a little to accommodate genuine worry.
"Oh- yeah, I'm fine. It was gone by mornin," She spoke just a little too quickly, still recovering from her screw up, "It was stressful, though."
"I noticed that the Fey population had an uptick recently..." Gayle tapped a finger on her chin.
"I don't think there's anyone that hasn't," Ingrid replied, just as Malik jumped in.
"Wouldn't it be safer for you and Dwyn to stay in town?"
No- noooo, that was not happening. But she didn't say that aloud.
"Yes! That way, if something goes wrong, you'll have a lot of people to help- not that I think anything will go wrong!" Gayle added, smiling nervously at her own amendment.
"The inn would have a room ready for you," Beathán concurred, "I've been staying there for as long as I've been here, and they have not kicked me out."
Y/N highly doubted that there would be a room waiting for her. Not after everything that happened those years ago... there was a dreadful feeling left sitting in her chest.
"It's been a while since I've seen that little nipper, Din," Dareth mentioned.
"Dwyn," Ingrid corrected, almost exasperated.
"You should bring her around some time! What kid doesn't like to have a pick of some baked goods, ehh?"
"Oh, and let your sister know 'you're welcome'!" Gayle chimed, referring to the zuccini bread as she clasped her hands together.
"I'll... think about it," Y/N offered, hesitantly, despite the fact she had already thought about it plenty and was keen to absolutely not do that.
Seemingly noticing something was off, Beathán reached out tentatively, a concerned sensation furrowing his brows. He opened his mouth to say something just as Y/N looked up and-
"Hello?! Hey!!" Came an obnoxious- an unfamiliar- voice from the treeline.
Everyone knew everyone in Summerville. Which meant this wasn't someone from the village. As that realisation set in, almost in sync, the group turned towards the nearby dirt pathway linking to their little pow wow area to see an older man rushing forward, waving his arms in the air, frantically.
The group exchanged looks with one another, Y/N automatically looking to Beathán for guidance, Ingrid and Gayle also shared looks, and Malik and Dareth seemed to be on the same wavelength, too. Y/N sure as hell wasn't going over there, that much anyone could tell. It wasn't that she hated outsiders. She just hated talking to people. She wasn't really sure how. She wasn't charismatic, and she hardly ever thought before she spoke.
Plus, social interaction was just... eugh... she disliked it.
Beathán was the first to act, stepping forward and crossing the space between them. Ingrid left a firm jostle on Malik's shoulder, subtly telling him to stay there (since he would've probably rushed in head first), before following after the war vet, and it wasn't long before Dareth gave chase, too. The group united with the newcomer not so far away.
"What's going on...?" Malik questioned, leaning towards Gayle as if the gossiper would have any answers.
She didn't look at the boy, merely gazing forth with uncertainty clear in her expression.
"I don't know... it looks like it's about to go down."
Malik and Y/N could both see her straining her ears to catch what was being said between the group.
"Thank the Goddess I found someone!" The man gasped for breath, hands against his knees as he bent over.
"What seems to be the problem? Who are you?" Beathán interrogated, gravely.
"Yeeeahhhh, we don't like trouble around these parts. Are you trouble?" Dareth accused, although he was hardly as intimidating as the older merchant.
Seeming to sense the sizzling hostility in the air, the man stood up straight and backed up a few steps. It finally sunk in with him that he was an intruder. Y/N noticed over her shoulder how bystanders were watching from a distance, whispering amongst themselves, antsy. She could hardly blame them- they had just been talking about Fey/Fae not even a few moments ago, although Fae rarely came out this far even in disguise. Especially not in a highly populated area.
Still, the town rarely got visitors since it wasn't even on the maps, so they weren't accustomed to outsides. It took a while for the town to warm up even to Beathán. There were apprehensions surrounding Y/N's family when they first arrived, too. But since they were relatives of someone who had lived nearby, and her father was accompanied by two children, the residents were much more open to accepting them into the community- as opposed to an unmarried merchant with no family.
"Oh- no- you've got it all twisted, I'm not here to make trouble, I swear!" When there was no reassurance from any of the surrounding instigators, he quickly moved to explain himself, "My cart broke just down the road!"
"Hmm... convenient," Dareth narrowed his eyes.
"N-No-! Just listen, one of the wheels snapped right off before we knew it-"
"'We'?" Ingrid interrupted, skeptical.
"My wife, and I-... and our two children-"
"You left your wife and two kids out in the woods?"
"Yes! Wait-! It sounds bad, but it's not-!" The man hurried to his own defense, "My friend, O'Doyle, and my son- he's an adult now- those two stayed behind to keep an eye on things. I ran ahead to get help."
Y/N inspected the man closely. He had a wide-brimmed hat over his white hair, and his face looked appropriately aged for someone with an adult child... plus, he had the typical father set-up: baggy shorts with too many pockets. A polo-shirt, for good measure.
"You said it broke down on the path?"
"Yessir," The man nodded hastily at Beathán's sternness, "I go by Noonan, by the way..."
Beathán dragged a hand through his hair. Even from a way's away, Y/N could tell this inconvenience was turning into a major aggravation for him. But he maintained a polite demeanour.
"Indeed..." He turned to Dareth, who jumped a bit at the sudden attention, "Dareth and I will assess the damage."
"Ehhh- me?" Dareth shook his head rapidly, "No, that's no good. I have a business to run. I'll get my old pal, Ronin. He's a carpenter- and a damn good one! It'll be a quick fix if he's on the job."
"Yeah, if you pay him," Ingrid snorted.
"That will suffice."
With a single nod (that seemed to hold an incredible amount of authority) from the war veteran, Dareth took off passed Y/N's small group. Mr. Noonan looked positively relieved, but he wasn't out of the woods (heh) yet when it came to the interrogation. Beathán straightened, pushing his shoulders back confidently, and all attention seemed magnetised to him and his commanding presence.
He never did say what his role in the army was. But from this alone, Y/N thought he must've been a general or something. Someone who was in charge, who had power.
"You said that you were travelling with others, right?"
"Yessir! My friend and my family."
"Any injured?"
"Nope- Larbear damn near got trampled tryna calm down Old Betsy- that's one of our horses- but nobody got hurt. 'Cept maybe the axle."
Ingrid and Beathán exchanged meaningful looks before the lady turned towards the outsider.
"Why were you coming through here, anyway?" She asked.
"We were just passing through from Aramore, headed down to O'Doyle's place in Dunborough. He just got done at the Domu Academy in the Capital, y'see? He's getting back to his family. They own land, and we were just tagging along for the ride."
"Oooh, the Academy?" Gayle murmured to herself.
Aramore was a particularly big town out there. Whereas Summerville was so small, it wasn't even on the map, Aramore was one of the only landmarks out in the wilderness, surrounded by several other small villages. Travel between Aramore and the surrounding villages could take three hours at most, but there were dirt paved roads branching out between them.
Y/N didn't actually know a lot about Dunborough, just that it was by the sea. She couldn't even read a map, so how was she supposed to know this information??
"We didn't ask for your life story," Ingrid dismissed, waving a palm with spread fingers as if to say 'stop', "It'll take a while for your cart to get fixed. You might have to stay the night in town- maybe longer."
"It depends on how major the damage is."
"So... you'll help us?"
"Why do you think we're fetching our carpenter?" Ingrid raised her chin, cynically- as if putting herself on a higher level than him.
"Thank you so much! I can't express it enough! Thank you!"
While he was busy grovelling in gratitude, much to both of the less socially-inclined adults' discomfort, Gayle rubbed her hands together as if she'd just gotten her hands on some juicy information.
"I can't wait to tell the girls about this...!"
"What are you talking about?" Malik pulled a face.
Gayle quickly adjusted her glasses and then patted her apron free of any leftover flour stains before gearing up to run off into town to spread the news.
"Apparently, his friend from the Academy isn't married, and if he just graduated, he must be in his prime. I'm sure plenty of other mothers would be keen to set their daughters up with a high value man like that-!" She paused before slyly giving Y/N a slap on the shoulder, "What about you, Glory? Do you think you'll finally break your vow of nunnery?"
"What-?" She startled, "Uhhhh. No...?"
"Oh, come now! Why not? He even mentioned he had a son of his own who's an adult now! What did he say he was called? Lawburne? Larbert...? That's two men of marriageable age!"
"Uuummm..." Her face scrunched up a bit, "But they're travellin. My place is here, that's the thing. I'm not opposed to gettin married, but our interests should align, right?"
She wasn't lying, either. Marriage was just never her priority. Especially since she had no family of her own to speak of (aside from Dwyn, of course) to back her up or even appear at a wedding venue- no matter how modest it may be.
"I didn't even think of that..." Malik trailed off, deep in thought.
"We should just get married, Malik," Y/N offered, because at this point, she was just tired of all the pressure.
"No way," Came his instant reply, "My heart belongs to Ellowyn."
"Worth a shot."
"Oouuuh," Gayle winced, "A staggering rejection from Malik, leaving no room for arguments!"
"It wasn't even a serious proposal, anyway," Y/N shrugged, unaffected, as she handed the practice broadsword she'd been using over to the young man, who took it without a second thought.
"The most disappointing love triangle of all time."
Gayle looked... far too invested in all this business. Really, Y/N could understand the desire to know the gossip, but wasn't she too obsessed with it at this point?
"There was no love triangle, man," Malik responded.
"Yeah, no thanks," Y/N concurred with an emotionally drained sigh, "I'm not interested in competin for your affection, Malik."
"Let's just pretend this conversation never happened."
"I accept your terms."
The two gave a handshake of mutual understanding. Then, Y/N idly stretched, arms above her head and reaching towards the sky. While others were busy getting on with their days, stopping and staring as Ronin was unwillingly corralled out of his shop by Dareth, and inspecting Noonan from a distance, Y/N decided that she should get back to Dwyn right about then.
It was noon, a warm, sunny day. She'd rather spend the day with her than waiting until the newcomer's wagon or whatever got fixed to continue training with Beathán.
"I'll be off then," Gayle announced just as Y/N noticed she was already turning to leave, "I've got people to talk to, places to be. You understand..."
She didn't leave any room for a reply before she was already jogging off. Malik gave an exaggerated wave after her, yelling a farewell that she the woman didn't bother to reply to. She must've been very enthusiastic to get the other mother's in on the matchmaking possibilities and... whatever else.
"If only Ellowyn's mother wanted us to get married that bad..." He sighed.
"She doesn't disapprove, right...?"
"No..." Malik puffed air out to blow a stray strand of hair out of his face in a sort of juvenile manner, "I think she finds mine and Caleb's fight funny..." Suddenly, as if an idea had struck him, he turned to face Y/N fully, "Hang on- why don't you marry Caleb?"
"What?" Y/N deadpanned, entirely unmoved- perhaps even slightly disgruntled by the shallow suggestion.
Even though she was the one randomly proposing to people so that she didn't have to put effort into courting and... all that.
"It'll help him move on from Ellowyn faster! Plus, you're likable. It'll work out between you two!"
"Yeah, no," She gave him a wide-eyed look, a sour half-smile on her face that didn't reach the apples of her cheeks- it was a look that asked why he even bothered to bring up a terrible idea like that, "I'm not gunna play rebound for an immature guy with an age gap on me."
"You just proposed to me," Malik glared, "Caleb and I are the same age, man!"
"I just said it wasn't a serious proposal, though."
"What would you have done if I agreed??"
"I would've said somethin like 'woah, stop there, mate. No thanks. It was just a joke' and then I would've excused myself. You're, like, seven years younger than me."
"I'm seventeen."
"... Give or take a few years," She amended, tacking it on like unimportant flavour text.
Malik gave an exaggerated sigh.
"Whatever... cripes- I tried to help. It would be like killing two birds with one stone. You get to marry someone, and Caleb gets a girlfriend! That's a really good deal, if I ever heard one."
"Make sure you never sign a contract without a lawyer then, cuz'a the fact you're so bad at makin agreements," She rubbed her sweaty palms on her skirt, choosing to ignore the affronted noise that came from her younger co-worker before turning to leave, "Anyways, I'm goin."
"Tell Winnie I said 'hi'," Malik mumbled grumpily.
"Righty-o, then!" She gave a small smile and left the commotion behind, calling over her shoulder one last time, "And you-! Make sure to tell Beathán I left so he's not wonderin where I am!"
"Whatever!"
=======================
Since it was the middle of the day, the woods were not so eerie. Perhaps that's what led to Y/N letting her guard down somewhat. Most Fey were nocturnal, so it was normal to not expect any sudden attacks. Of course, that didn't mean having an encounter was impossible- that was the reason that she still maintained the tension in her shoulders as she walked the dirt-scuffed path.
Comfortable, but not too comfortable.
But still comfortable.
Then, it wasn't.
All it took was an instant. A moment of peace frayed like rope on its last threads before snapping in one fell swoop. A cacophonous blast roared in her ears. The ground rippled beneath her. She stopped and turned, a shock wave sweeping through the trees like the slice of a sword before bowling into her side. With a yelp, she was sent off her feet. Lifted into the air with hardly a chance to protect her head before she was skidding on her chest into stone.
"Bu-... gger-" Winded, she couldn't even yell it.
In the wake of the woodland, her voice was barely even a whisper. The impact reverberated through her bones, overwhelming her mind with blind panic. Vibrations echoed through the earth, kicking loose rocks and dirt up. It was like an explosion. It was like a tsunami, an earthquake- natural disasters she'd only ever heard about.
Fingers scrapped uselessly against stone tile and then into flesh. There was blood on her tongue, a stinging in her lips, and heat on her chin.
It was the sound of trees splintering, of the forest splitting. Cracks like fissures through the fabric of reality screamed through the air. Y/N was knocked off the floor and then went tumbling back into it, hands scraping against stone and knees skinning against uneven pavement. She was a heap, all ruffled fabric, tousled hair, and bruised elbows.
Birds launched themselves into the sky in droves, and the wilderness was alive. It was loud. Ear-splitting with raw, unbridled emotion. Rejoicing, startling, fearing. It was overbearing and bursting through her eardrums like a stampede.
A dust cloud rolled out from the trees, like a plague of locusts flooding the pathway, enveloping Y/N in a whirlwind of dark mist that she just barely shielded her face from. It whipped against her legs like pebbles being thrown at her skin, and it assaulted every crevice, thick in the air like smog from the city or a polluting, suffocating smoke from a factory.
And then it was silent.