We stop on either side of Thorpe's body. Lowering myself to my knees beside him, reaching out to turn him over, but my hands stop. Hovering over the old man shakily as if I'm too scared to see his face.
The mage groans. "Oh, come on." Leaning over to use his free hand to grab onto Thorpe's bare side. The body is rolled over onto its back. Old Guard's head is limply hung to the side. Eyes empty and vacant. Blood dribbling from his open mouth.
Cold and lifeless.
My heart feels like it's sinking into a pit. Despair crashes against me in brutal waves. Threatening to pull me under to drown. Shouts of praise stinging my ears from all around.
"YOU DID IT!"
"FIRST KILL IS ALWAYS THE HARDEST!"
"IT'LL GET EASIER!"
I gasp hoarsely, eyes snapping open in the dark. My heart is beating hard against the inside of my chest. I'm immediately aware of a weight against my back and what feels like arms wrapped around my waist. Panic fills my senses as I struggle against whichever of the bandits has grabbed hold of me. My hand reaches around desperately for a weapon of some kind.
The arms grab tighter and pull me in closer, wrapping around me like a snare. "It's okay, Dove. I'm here. You're safe."
The voice instantly ceases my desire to struggle. My eyes search the darkness, taking in the familiar shapes of my own room and the softness of my own bed beneath me.
My heart feels like it's about to beat through my chest. "Wh…what happened? What's wrong with me?"
Her arms squeeze a bit tighter. "It was just a nightmare, dove. There is nothing wrong with you."
Despite the assurance, I can't get myself to settle. That feeling that I'm under attack refuses to subside. A faint prickly sensation rolls across my shoulders as if danger is breathing down my neck.
I roll myself over in her arms so that I can face her. And immediately, my heart pangs at the sight of her. The worry etched around her eyes and mouth. I know what it looks like after she's cried, and she definitely has been. Too many times I have seen her torn down like this. My stalwart mother, shaken by the stress.
It breaks me.
A flood of pent-up emotion hits me like a wave. Tears freely streaming down my cheeks as a sob catches in my throat. "I…I'm sorry."
Her face scrunches up as she pulls me tightly against her, raising a hand to cradle the back of my head. Unable to stop herself from crying either. "You of all people have no reason to be sorry." She whispers down to me, pressing my cheek against her chest. "None of this is your fault."
My hands clutch tightly to her back, weeping in her arms. "But I hurt Thorpe…he almost died…" Sobs muddle my words despite my best efforts to keep them at least coherent. "I can't…get it out of my head."
Mama buries her face in my cloud-like hair, kissing the top of my head. "But he didn't, Dove. And he's alive because of you." Her hands slide in between us to cup my cheeks as she slides back a bit. Tilting my head up to meet her gaze. Her face is still marred with worry and wet with tears, but she smiles nonetheless. "Because you are smart and brave and cunning. And I am so proud of you."
My body trembles like a newborn deer. Lips quivering and cheeks soaked in moisture. My nose is runny and dripping. I must look like such a mess.
I was braving the wilds, fighting monsters and bandits just days ago. Now here I am bawling my eyes out in my mother's arms. But I really think I needed this. The healer's draught may have healed my body. But this is healing everything else. No need to stay calm or collected. No need to keep my eyes peeled. No shadows prowling in my periphery. Just a release of all the raw emotion that had been collecting in the nooks and crannies of my mind.
It was already clearing up the moment we got back home. When I finally stopped staring at every corner, like something was about to jump out at me. Even as it lingered still. But this moment feels like the last of it bleeding away. Like she's chasing off the last fox that was prowling in the brush.
I stay quiet for quite a while. Enjoying the warmth of her embrace. I'm not certain how much time has passed by the time we hear the village's bell ringing outside. Signaling the call for the all-hands meeting.
Mama gives a long exasperated sigh. "I have to go for a bit, Dove. Get some more rest. You deserve it." She says, petting my cheek.
I shake my head slowly. "No…I'm going too. I need to be there."
Her mouth forms a thin line. "I think you've had eno…"
"Mother…I NEED to be there." I interrupt, giving her a much more determined look. "I was there. I can't just separate and hide myself from it now."
Her eyes widen slightly in surprise as if she hadn't expected me to be that steadfast. And for a moment, she just stares. Analyzing my face while lost in her own thoughts. But eventually her brows relax and her eyes close for a brief moment before offering a slight nod. "You're right, dove. It wouldn't be right of me to try and keep you out." She agrees, but gives me a rather pointed look. "Just promise me that you won't strain yourself. And that you'll give yourself a break for a spell. Okay?"
A smile forms across my lips, returning the nod. "I promise. Honestly, I'd already been thinking I'd enjoy a bit of hibernation for a while. Maybe a good week or so to let myself resettle."
She chuckles lightly at that, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. "I will hold you to that. If you hadn't suggested a time yourself, I had half a mind to lock you in the cabin till you were 18." She jests. Or at least I think she does. It's suddenly a bit difficult to tell if she meant that in earnest or not.
I pushed the issue from my mind and sat up, my body screaming in protest the entire way. Gritting my teeth at the soreness that has very well settled into my every bone. "M...make that two weeks."
Mama sat up as well, holding onto me to keep me steady. "Poor thing. I'll get you a weak healing potion. It should at least help with the aching." She says, sliding herself out of bed and stepping into the hall. She was still wearing her work tunic and trousers under the covers, but they didn't smell like usual. Must not have stepped into the fields today since the inspector arrived.
With a bit of effort, I climb out of bed and stumble a bit on my feet. The sensation of pins and needles in my soles. The aching definitely feels like it's going to be haunting me for a while. My higher Resilience stat should help it go away faster, at least.
I strip off my nightgown and throw on a basic tunic and some work trousers from the chest at the foot of my bed. Most of the clothes in there were Leo's. Mama gave them to me when I started my training. They used to be very loose on me, but I've filled out enough since then.
Mama steps back into my room with an overcoat on and already fitted into her boots. Handing me a set of my own boots, along with a small tincture of health potion. "Grab a coat as well. It's getting a bit nippy these nights. Gelid might be encroaching early this year." She says with a sigh as I take the items from her. "Would be just our luck if Harvest is cut short when we're already struggling. Might just be the pessimist in me, though."
It feels constricting to be putting these boots back on after wearing them for so long, but no other shoes fit me currently. Mother's words draw my attention, as well as my dismay at the negativity. It's never good when she gets like this. "Don't say that. It's not our fault that this is happening. We know now that it's sabotage. And knowing that is better progress than we've had in years."
She purses her lips at me, her foot tapping a few times before she lets out a low groan. "I knooow...you are right. But I can't help but feel even more unlucky knowing that as well."
I nod slightly, not really able to disagree with the sentiment entirely. Popping the tiny cork from the tincture and downing the glistening red liquid. The familiar tingling sensation coating my throat as the aches across my body slowly begin to subside to a more manageable level. "What about the inspector? Did you get all of his luggage up here?" I ask, grabbing the dark blue overcoat from the hook behind my door.
Her face instantly contorts into a rough grimace at the mention of the man. "Yes, we did. No thanks to his incessant prattling all the way there AND back." She sneers as both of us step out of my room and head up through the hall to the entranceway door. "I swear, we couldn't lift a single trinket from his mass of luggage without getting an earful of how it was worth more than our lives."
My nose wrinkles at that. "He already hadn't sounded too pleasant when Margo and Mrs. Bennett described him. But now I'm certain I wouldn't be able to stand the man." I admit without any remorse as we make it outside of the cabin and into the lightly chilly evening air. The night lanterns hanging from posts around the village are still in the process of being lit. "Where is he now?"
She closes the front door behind us before moving along with me as we turn right and follow the curve of the dirt path. Heading eastward towards the long wooden building with the bell tower at the center of the village. Several others are leaving their homes to join us in the same direction.
Mama ties up her braids into a lazy nest on top of her head, her brows pinched inward. "We are putting him and the Mercs guarding him in the guest rooms. He wasn't too pleased with that either, but I wasn't going to budge more than we already have. I refuse to let him take over one of our homes."
My eyes widen slightly as I reach over to grasp her hand. "Wait...Teovar was supposed to stay in one of those. What about him?"
She squeezes my hand and offers me a light smile in return. "No need to worry. Gordon has a spare room for him and was more than happy to offer it. And it seems Mr. Teovar would prefer to be able to help with the village's food once he's rested some."
I frown a little at that and sigh. "That makes sense. I just hope he actually takes a long break. He's had such a hard life. I can't imagine how he'd want to start cooking again so quickly."
Mama gives my hand another squeeze as we approach the twin doors at the front of the longhouse. Light spilling from the multiple windows along the sides. Many voices chattering inside. "That he has. But we can't make that decision for him. If he finds fulfillment and comfort from cooking for us, then who are we to stop him?"
My mouth cocks to the side. A part of me wants to refute it, but I can't really see anything wrong with what she said. Teovar did seem a lot more relaxed when he cooked for Thorpe and me the last few nights. Even though he had been doing it nonstop for his abusers for decades.
It doesn't make sense to me. If I were in his position, I don't think I'd want to cook for anyone but myself ever again.
But I'm not in his position. And he obviously loves doing it despite everything. So perhaps it is more of a reclamation of his craft to him than anything else.
For the first time in a long time, he is cooking for someone because HE wants to. And that is all that matters.
I smile a little bit at that thought. "His cooking is really good. Just about as good as Papa's. I think you'll like it."
Mama lifts a brow and returns the smile. "Really now? Well then, I will look forward to it." She states lightly before she pushes against the door and leads us into the longhouse.
And joining all the nervous neighbors within.