A month later. “Oh, you want a buffeting?” I say aloud menacingly, flaunting my daggers in a reverse grip with the edges out at a tree I have randomly selected to be my “opponent”. I’m practicing the moves I learned to do during spars with Severin. “You want to fight me? Ah, no… You are unworthy of being my opponent. Hm? What did you call me? Take this, then!” In a flurry of attacks, I strike the trunk of the tree, leaving cuts, marks, and dents on its dark, rough bark. I occasionally slip in a kick or two to make my battle against my imaginary opponent more realistic, but I only end up hurting myself. The dull sounds of metal meeting wood surround me with every hit I make, giving me a small sense of satisfaction as the sharp edges slice through the tough outer layer. I’ve become more nimble, more reactive… mayhap impulsive, even. This might be enough to put a stop to my father, but I must do more, I must continue to improve; not when it will be two people against an entire nobleman
Figuring out how this rock-like… thing… will be useful in creating a seal of protection is giving me a headache. This hardened clump of bluish-grey mud with an odd band made of sinew protruding out of it… What is it? Why is it like this? I’ve no idea what to do with this! Do I hang it around my neck? No, the band is too small, it weighs too much to be hung, and it is far too big to be kept hidden… What the hells should be done with this?! “Mayhap you should rest before continuing to lour at that rock, Severin,” the brunette seated right behind me states, hearing her continuously scribble something on the spare papers I’ve given her upon our return. “You seem like you are about to slay someone. Pray thee, don’t let your murderous intent out on me.” I whirl around, slightly affronted. The sight of Maia’s focused look and damp, unbraided hair astonishes me, and makes me look away almost instantly. I cannot allow myself to be distracted right now. “H-how is your writing going?” I a
Alas, 'tis another day working alone in the village… There have been no signs of my beloved friend, not even after the news about the death of Lord Edgar a month ago. I do not believe it one bit that he had died due to a disease, nor of natural causes, despite the knights’ announcements that day— they’re hiding something, and I know it is because Maia caused his death… I can feel it! T’was exactly a sennight after she left that the lord died; it is the only thing that makes sense. Maia had successfully slayed a Davidson. As terrified as I was for her when she was insistent to leave the village all alone, I was filled with pride upon discovery of a noble's death, and I am quite glad that t'was the old fart who passed… eradicating him must've helped Maia get one step closer to achieving her goal. As I roll the cart across the village to deliver barrels of grain to the village’s brewer, a couple of villagers greet me on my way, asking the same questions they always ask me since the day
Under no circumstances, at all, have I ever thought that getting attacked in broad daylight would only happen in stories… And yet, hither I am, next to Severin, whom I’ve never seen look so… calm and inscrutable … at an armed, trouble-making bunch who presumably followed us from today's raid. I defensively keep one of my hands hovering over my dagger’s grip, ready to unsheathe it the moment one of these weaponed men makes a single move. My other hand is clutching a sack containing what is supposed to be today’s meal, and I guess I… have to put this aside, for now. We do not want this to go to waste now, do we? “Have you ever been in a fight like this, Severin?” I whisper to the green-haired man next to me, who is standing with one foot forward. I can see his other hand hidden, fingers stiffly curled inwards and ready to conjure an element. “The kind of fight where you are outnumbered and you lack the experience?” “No,” he whispers back, his gaze unwavering. I catch his eyes watchi
“Go where, now?” I ask the excited brunette, who gently drops all of the items she has stolen from the village into my arms. “What are you going to do, again?” “I need you to head back to the pit house on your own for now— do not push yourself if you cannot make it thither alone, though!” “Pray thee, tell me why am I going to leave you in this village?” “There is something I need that— as I’ve heard— can only be bought in this specific village,” she answers as she pulls back her hood over her head. “I can make it back on my own, you need not worry. Be careful on your way back, alright?” With a hesitant nod, I watch her smile at me and carefully exit the forest edge, blending into the crowd when a cart-pulling donkey passes by. She disappeared fast! About two days ago, we were attacked by this odd organization who called themselves “The Unkindness”. Their name can only mean two things to me: they are merely the epitome of malice and ill will, or that of a flock of ravens, which ha
Bustling with men in armor, even ‘til nightfall… at every damned place inside and outside the manor! The number of my father’s men had increased, and I found not only more of them at the manor's gatehouse, but also guarding the manor’s halls, the inside of some bedchambers, and most especially the cobblestone footpath for the villagers. I may have made it out of the manor’s vicinity unseen, but I cannot risk going off on my own again… Not when my family is still waiting for me to return. “I should not have scouted alone; I was ill-equipped, and I could have been caught. The organization will have no idea how to rescue me if I did… if they even bother to rescue me." With a sigh, I cautiously scan my surroundings before going through the hideout's main entrance— across a creek that is a walk away from the central village, through a narrow crack in the hillside that leads into the cave, and then a guarded metal gate. There is only one entrance, but there are many, many exits around th
“Oh, oh! How about setting my daggers aflame?!” I exclaim excitedly as I share my thoughts with Severin. I am preparing a salt brine in a pot for the vegetables he and I stole today to preserve them. “That way, it can seem like I am using magic as well! You must tell me that that counts as something!” “And set not only yourself, but everything else on fire by accident?” the green-haired man replies, turning to me from his position in front of the table with a straight face. “That is no better than the last six ideas you’ve suggested, Maia.” With a pout, I submerge the reddish-purple root crops into the brine and place the pot over a fire. “I’m merely being true to life with these ideas. Mayhap it can help us improve as a team!” “Of course, because blasting magic out of one’s hands is true to life.” “You’re practically a living enigma, Severin. Would you mind adjusting the fire for me? Gramercy.” Nose-deep in his mother’s journal, he promptly lifts his arm and flicks his hand upwa
Right after the brunette and I had discovered this peculiar silver five-pointed shape that is roughly the size of my stout finger, I instantly ruminate about giving the enchantment another try. Where did this necklace come from? Why did my mother hide it by covering it in mud? And why does this symbol look so familiar to me…? “I feel like I’ve seen something like this before,” I mutter to myself before keeping the necklace at eye level to examine it in the candlelight. “But I cannot put my finger on where or when I have seen it…” I hear shuffling from behind me, and turn to find Maia pacing around while reading the contents of Mother's journal. “I still do not understand, Severin,” the brunette says, her shuffling coming to a halt as she sits on my bed. I hear her heave a sigh out of frustration. “To me, it does look like something that should be combined with magic, but how could we have known that that thing was inside the mud?” Is this what could have made the enchantment work?