I’d spent an agonizingly ten minutes bartering with her for a reasonable price. We managed to agree on one, but it was half of what I wanted for it—what Mother deserved. We shook hands and she gave me the payment, smiling as she left my side. I offered her back a vulgar gesture.
I counted the coin once again. I mentally kicked myself for not pushing a higher price, but I had to remember that this was better than nothing. I was down to my last few coins before today.
I walked past the bakery giving off a pure scent of fresh bread. I had to remind myself that I could not afford it. As much as mother and Albert would’ve loved some, our money had to be spent wisely. I turned away, trying to ignore its temptation.
As I walked among the villagers, I felt my stomach turn at the sight of them. These gossiping, adulterated mongrels made me regret ever coming here. They never cared for the starving or anyone else that was not them. When I was with Leo, they made sure to remind me that I was not welcomed among them—whether it was by the looks they gave me or the brave ones that would tell me to my face.
I tried to ignore their glares and moving mouths. I had more important things to focus on: I was to get some supplies and medicine for Albert. I would get that and leave for home.
My local medicine woman, Marion, was on the end of the small village. Her store was part of her home. She had lived upstairs, unwelcomed by some of the suspicious villagers. A few people thought that she delved into some type of witchcraft because she could make tonics to cure illnesses. I didn’t believe a word of any of it. I had seen that she simply used herbs and boiled them together. She had shown me some of her work due to my curiosity.
Her shop was called The Waking Moon, after a story she still to this day refused to share. I noticed her sign was beginning to rust. I would need to see to that for her when the weather cleared.
The one good thing about this village was her. She always welcomed me here. I was never turned away, even when I had nothing to offer her. I would be put to work doing chores that were too much on her old body to make my payment. It was the first kindness I had received since father’s death.
I would handle her firewood, clean out her garden or simply help her clean. She took the time to appease my curiosity about her work and taught me some of the herbs. She showed me ones I would find in a grassy plain or grown from a forest tree. There were some that would kill you if consumed and others that would help a wound if you were injured. I held no candle to her talent, but I was always eager to learn more from her.
The doorbell rang when I opened the door. A small woman with graying hair approached the front counter. Her wrinkles seem to vanish when she smiled. She was a lovely looking woman for her age. “Welcome, Ellyn. Please come in,” she said.
“Hello Marion, how are you today?” I asked closing the door behind me.
She sighed. “Oh, the same dear. This cold is aching my very bones. How is your cough?” I winced. I hated it when she brought it up. She treated a single cough or sneeze as a reason to drown me in her medicines. She meant well, but it drove me mad some days.
“It’s fine. I need something for Albert today. Something stronger if you have anything.” She placed her finger on her chin thinking. She smiled and left through a door behind her.
While I waited, I let my gaze roam over the store. These past few years it hadn’t changed much. She decorated the walls with various decorations she had collected over the years. The most prominent ones were the masks—each one had various expressions. The one wooden mask particularly fascinated me was a black one with wings that would spread to the sides of your face. It exposed the mouth, but hid everything above the nose. The eye holes had a midnight blue hint to them. There was something mysterious about it. Something compelling. It pulled at me, though I didn’t know why.
Marion closed a door behind her and walked towards me, carrying a small bottle in her hand then placing it on the counter in front of me. “I made this serum this mornin’. I think it should do what you need. The recipe has been in my family for generations. It always helped my father when he took ill, Goddess rest his soul,” she said.
The bottle was clear except for small leaves at the top. I sighed. I had a feeling this would get expensive. “How much?” I inquired.
She didn’t answer me. Instead, her eyes traveled to the scarf around my neck. An interested smile passed on her lips. She tilted her head slightly.
“That scarf is such a lovely color.” Her eyes gleamed. I mindlessly placed my hand on the scarf. It was a birthday present from my mother. She made the scarf with yarn to match my eye color. It was one of the only presents I had gotten from her over the past few years.
I didn’t want to sell it to Marion, but I felt the lightness of my money. I needed that medicine for Albert. His health was more important than a scarf, but part of me still hesitated.
I pulled off the scarf. “In exchange for the medicine, tea and some ointment for wounds,” I said. She narrowed her eyes, questioning me.
“I have very little on me, but I can give you half of what I have and the scarf as payment.” I prayed that she would barter with me. The remaining money couldn’t be spent entirely on the supplies and medicine. Most of it had to be saved for upcoming months.
She clicked her tongue. “Well, you are a good girl and your mother has never disappointed me in her work. I still have that wrap you sold me. I simply adore it!” she exclaimed. It was a victory for the most part. We shook hands on it and then I gave her the money with the scarf in tow.
I’m sorry mother. This is too important, I thought gravely.
“Let me get you the other stuff you wanted. I’ll be right back.” She wrapped the scarf around her neck, rubbing it on her cheek with a smile. At least she would take care of it and appreciate it. If I were to sell such a thing to anyone, I could trust her to use it properly.
She gave me the rest of the supplies. I spoke to her about her sign and that it would need to be sanded down and redone. I offered to do the job for her if she paid for the supplies. She said she wanted to wait until the weather warmed up first, but she would keep it in mind. Not a yes or no, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t mind having a new sign. It was the best I was going to get today.
I left her shop moments later to head home. I was about halfway out of the village when I spotted a small unwelcoming group of two girls and a boy on each arm. The smirks on their faces made me feel like they had bad ideas running through their heads. They were dressed in finer clothes than I had, but they were still cheap knock offs from the clothes they wanted to fool others with. They stopped in front me as I tried to cross the mini bridge that crossed over a stream.
The others giggled as one of the red-haired boys remained in my way. He appeared older than the rest of the small group, probably several years older than I am. I don’t have time for this. He held his hands up. “Oh, I’m sorry, Miss. Please excuse me.” He stepped aside.
I glared at him. I don’t have time for this.
I barely made three steps before I felt a pair of hands push onto my back causing my body to fall forward. My bag flew off my shoulder as my hands came up to protect my face. My body tensed as I landed on the ground, feeling my chest burn with ache.
I looked up to see the group was laughing her heads off. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment and rage. My clothes were soaked in mud and freezing water from the stream. Tears threatened to fall, but I forced them away. I would give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“That, my girl, is the least you deserve after what you did to Leo. He is a good friend of mine you see, and you have made him never want to come out of his house ever again. He can’t walk and much less show his face to his friends!” the red-haired boy yelled down to me.
So that was what all this was about. Punishment for giving a weasel what he deserved.
“Monster!” one called.
“Savage!” another called.
Then they walk
ed away continuing to laugh. Before all of them were out of my line of sight, the red-haired boy stopped and turned to me. “He might not be able to walk well anymore since you put that knife in his back, but he will always be better than you, you worthless peasant!” And then he joined his companions.
I forced my aching body to stand, feeling the muscles in my knees crack. The mud laid thick all over my pants despite brushing most of it off with my hands. I winced as I pulled some of the mud out of my braided hair. Once I made sure they were gone, I let the tears fall, my mouth trembled. I didn’t deserve this. They believed only what Leo had told them. Of course, they didn’t understand that I only did it to protect myself. They didn’t understand many things it seemed.
These people had no idea what it was like to starve—to have so little in the world. They were not too much better off than my own family, yet they treated me like I was beneath their knock-off shoes. I supposed it made them feel better about themselves. Perhaps it is how they cope with their own issues.
This town had no name. No lord nor king would take the time to call it anything but a waste. We held no rich lands to crop anymore. The soil was too polluted to plant is what I was told by the locals and that our winters were too harsh to maintain them after the summer heat. I don’t know what had happened to the land, but whatever it was, no one had the answer as to how to solve it.
I grabbed my bag, but my supplies had fallen out.
Sighing, I searched through the mud. After so long, I’d found everything but the medicine. My knees dug into the mud beneath me to find it buried within it. I brushed off the excess dirt. Thankfully, it hadn’t burst open on impact. There was no way I could’ve replaced it. I thanked the Goddess for her kindness.
Clouds covered the sun, threatening rain. I would need to rush home to start a fire. Perhaps I assumed too soon that my luck would improve.
I put everything back into my bag and headed home, my feet squishing in my boots with every step.
CHAPTER 3
The bath hadn’t been as pleasant as I hoped. It took a matter of minutes for it to turn cold. I spent most of that time trying to brush off the mud in my tangled hair. After my bath, I scrubbed my wet clothes and hung them above the fire, praying that they would dry soon.
Shivering, I checked on the fire to see it was low. I added two logs into it and adjusted the wood with the poker. I would have to bring in more wood to burn for the night.
Mother was rocking in the chair my father had made her for one of their anniversaries, sewing something. It was white and her thread was blue, so perhaps it was a patch for a pillow cover. I couldn’t make out the pattern
The chair she sat in was made by my father before he passed away. It was a gift for her on one of their anniversaries. It was not the most beautiful chair, but it was sturdy. The stain on the wood was light to match her kitchen cabinet he also replaced.
I pulled out the bottle of medicine from my pocket and placed it on the end table beside her. “Mother, this is Albert’s medicine,” I said. She sat there focused on the stitch as if she didn’t hear me.
I sighed. “I also bought some tea, maybe we can make a pot of it later. It would drown out the taste of the medicine.”
She continued to ignore me. I placed the small bag on the end table. “I’ll just leave it next to his medicine.“
Part of me wanted to raise my voice to her, but I knew it would be pointless. When she got into these moods, there was no getting through to her. She wouldn’t even look at me, making me nothing but an insect on the wall. I decided to leave her alone to her sewing and went to check on Albert instead.
He was asleep again. I would need to wake him for dinner later after I came back from my hunt. I closed the door behind me and went to my room.
I sat on my bed, brushing the tangles out of my hair. I remembered when mother would brush it for me, telling me how lovely it was. At the time, all I wanted to do was cut it all off, but she insisted it was too beautiful. I never cut it because of it. It was one of the few times we would spend together.
I looked at my reflection. Somehow, I could still hear those hurtful words those people called me.
Monster. Savage. Peasant.
I didn’t want to admit it, but their words stung my heart. Perhaps it was because I knew they were true, even if only partially true.
Monster.
I was not a monster. That red-haired boy misplaced his accusations. He wasn’t there. He didn’t know what happened.
Savage.
I protected myself from harm: it was self-defense.
The laughter rang in my head so loud it was as if they were in the room with me—humiliating me. I tried to cover my ears to drown them out, but they rang only louder.
And that was it. I slammed my fist into my mirror causing a crack to spread across its face like a spider web. The impact wasn’t hard enough to shatter it, but it would be practically useless to me now.
My hands quivered as the blood dripped down my fingers.
I went to the bathroom gripping my wrist the entire way, trying to will away the pain. I carefully washed my injured hand pulling out the tiny shards that remained in my knuckles. The pain hissed between my teeth as I got the last of the shards out.
I mentally yelled at myself for doing this. After all these years, I should know better than to lose control over my emotions. I was an adult and this act was childish. It doesn’t matter what they said, I know the truth and that should be enough . . . shouldn’t it?
Gingerly, I made a fist. I would still be able to use it, but I’d need to be gentle, otherwise the cuts wouldn’t heal properly. I dressed in some fresh clothes a little light for the temperature, but it was all I had to wear until my thicker clothes dried. This was going to be very unpleasant hunt.
I left for the back porch and found a lot of my previously stacked wood has gone missing. Mother must have burned a lot more than I wanted her to. I would need to keep an eye out for anymore fallen down trees while I was out.
I grabbed my ax and bow heading towards the woods.
~ * ~
The lifeless forest contained more snow than anywhere else I had seen today. There was little sign of any animals roaming about the trees and white floor. The rain did not come as I predicted, but it would arrive by tomorrow I suspected. The animals must be preparing for it by seeking shelter from the upcoming storm.
I mindlessly touched my throat where my scarf would’ve been. It had been a birthday present for me. Mother spent over a month weaving it, using any and all blue yarn she had available to her. For the first time in years, my mother smiled at me when she saw how much I liked it. It was one of the only moments we connected.
I prayed to the Goddess that she would bring my mother back to me—that she would regain her mind and be able to function properly. As I walked deeper into the forest, I sensed that my prayers would go unanswered. Nothing would change.
Everything was too quiet. The birds did not sing their songs, there was no movement to speak of. Although, I didn’t usually come this late in the afternoon, but I expected more than this. I decided that the quiet was a blessing. It would give me time to think and calm down from the events of this morning.
I never felt more alive than I did when I hunted for prey.
I glanced down at my bow reminded of the day Father taught me to shoot. It was years ago, when I was very young, but these woods held good memories.
“Ellyn, part of being a good hunter, is knowing your surroundings.” my father said as he held my hand as he led me to a tree with a large opening.
“What’s this, Father?” I asked him.
“This, my dear.” He squatted down and pulled out a bow and quiver, “is where I keep my bow.”
“Why do you put it here?”
“You know your mother hates it when I bring my weapons inside the house. She is terrified you and Albert will hurt yourselves with them. But don’t worry, once you
two are old enough, you will each have your own.”
“I’ll have my own bow?” I asked him excited.
He smiled and revealed a second bow. My smile spread from ear to ear. I hopped in place, clapping my hands. “My own bow!”
“Careful now, I have to teach you how to use it.”
The memory made me want to cry again. My father was a good man, dead long before his time should’ve been due. He taught me everything he knew and even let me hunt on my own when I was old enough. I eventually took over most of the hunting so Father could spend more time with Mother and Albert while working on our cottage repairs.
I shook my head, dismissing any further thoughts on the memory. There was too much to do before the rain came.
There was still no sign of life between the tree trunks. It was too much to wish for a better day after what happened I supposed. I had hoped the Goddess would take pity on me and provide me a chance to kill a fat prey for a change.
I walked further into the forest mindful of every step. My chest tightened as I grew closer to the base of a large tree. Something was wrong. This was more than just an approaching storm to cause such lifelessness in this forest.
I stood very still, listening to the wind.
There was a distant howl. A dog? No, it would not make sense for me to see dogs in this forest now. I had been coming here for years and never saw a single one. There was one possibility. I sucked in a breath, not wanting it to be true.
Wolves.
I had only seen one or two wolves in this forest since I started hunting, but none of them came this close to the cottage. Praying that I was wrong, I knew I had to make sure.
I hurried to a nearby tree, dropping the ax at the base. I shimmied to a large extending branch for a better view with a leg on each side. I nocked an arrow, but there was nothing in sight. Could I have been imagining it? I was sure I heard something.
Just focus.
I took a deep breath and aimed my bow in the direction of the first howl. If the wolves were hungry, then I would be ready for them. I had heard what wolves do to their prey, they will not get to my family.
A Kingdom of Shadow Page 2
