Fantasy Adopted Trouble | ellarose & Sash

[ellarose]

The girl didn't have a name.

She might have had one, once upon a time. But she opened her eyes to this strange world without memories, companions, or possessions with the exception of the scrappy rag of a dress that clung to her scrawny frame. (There was also a tiny stone living in her pocket, with a simple face painted on the surface. It didn't shimmer like gold, so it held no true value. She held onto it anyway.) Ever since then, all she was was hungry and cold. A nameless, living thing that had to adapt to her surroundings to survive. While she searched tirelessly to find something she could call her own-- food, warmth, or shelter-- somehow she had only managed to earn herself a reputation. It started with little things that piled up over time. Those who shoved past her in the village's busy market square would bring their hands and arms away to find blood, as if they had been cut by something sharp. Yet they could never find the source of their mysterious injuries, for the girl who had caused them was small, quiet as a mouse, and lost herself easily in the hustle and bustle of a crowd. In fact, the girl herself didn't even realize then that she was the cause.

These incidents gradually became more and more common, though, and that did not go unnoticed. Days passed and rumors spread. People exchanged fearful whispers about the workings of dark magic, a curse, those 'damned witches' ruining business. The crowds in the square thinned, to the point where it became more like a ghost town. And as a result, less people were willing to stop and toss their scraps her way. The girl became hungrier and colder than ever. More desperate. Having learned the streets by then, she observed the patterns and routines of each stall in the square. Over time, she began swiping the ugliest fruits she could find from the farmer's cart. The bruised ones that no one ever picked, the ones nobody would miss. Perhaps it was muscle memory from the life she lived before, but she worked nimbly. With the finesse of a worldly stray cat, she was graceful and quick on her feet. (There were other things she could do as well. She could read, for one. She was educated, so she must not have lived on the streets like this forever. Sometimes she wondered what kind of life she had before she found herself in this place. But such thoughts were always short-lived when she was trying to stay fed and out of danger.)

Nevertheless, she scraped by this way until the day the baker's wife caught her during one of her heists. Instead of boxing her ears and reprimanding her for being a filthy little thief, the way many of these busy people might have, the kindly woman rushed inside to fetch the 'poor thing' a fresh loaf of bread.

That was when the people were truly able to pinpoint the source of the mysterious phenomenon plaguing their town. When the girl reached for the bread that was generously offered to her, blood flecked her dress... because the mere brush of her fingers cut the woman's hands like knives. The eyes of bystanders grew wide with fear. Then, having barely processed what had happened, the burly baker saw red and lunged for her in a fit of rage on his wife's behalf. It was chaos. The girl was stunned, of course, but facing immediate danger, she didn't have time to come to terms with what she had done before she dodged his arms and took off.

What happened next, she honestly couldn't explain. It was a cacophony of screams and colors as she ran, ran, ran as fast as her feet could carry her on those cobblestone streets. Anyone who tried to subdue her were slashed up, the same way as the baker's wife. Blood speckled the streets and left a gruesome trail as she fled. No, no, no. She didn't mean it. She didn't mean any of it! There was something wrong with her. She had done something bad, something truly, truly bad. And although she had done it unwillingly, the intense, repulsed reactions of the people told her that her intentions would mean very little to them.

Still cradling the loaf of bread to her chest like a babe in need protection, the girl escaped the village and disappeared into the wood. Cautiously avoiding travelers smoke and footprints of varying sizes, she ran, tripped through brambles, cut across shallow streams, and continued to run until she couldn't run anymore. And then at last, when her surroundings were quiet and lonely enough she clambered into the darkness of a hollowed tree. She curled up there and, succumbing to exhaustion, fell into a deep sleep.

Some time passed before she woke, feverish and aching all over. Her bread was cold. (And though it made her feel guilty, she wolfed it down to quell her hunger.) Just how long had she slept? Well, no one was around to tell her that. She supposed it didn't matter. When she poked her head out from her hiding place, she discovered a golden sky that told her that another day was coming to an end. Hm. That left her with only an hour or so of daylight to explore her surroundings before night fell again. Weakly climbing to her feet like a newborn fawn, she tilted her head back to examine the trees that towered high over her head. Had trees always been this tall? The world pulsed and blurred around her. Her throat was dry. Thirsty. Unable to ignore her needs once she acknowledged them, she walked and walked until she heard the gentle trickling of a nearby stream. Following the noise, sure enough, she managed to find what she was searching for. Kneeling down, she cupped her hands to gather water and drank greedily from them. In the process, she got a glimpse of her reflection.

A nonthreatening, curious set of gray eyes stared back at her. Her face was smudged with dirt and blood. Flashes of the destruction she wrought the other day lashed at her. Closing her eyes tightly, she splashed her face with water and scrubbed furiously. As if cleaning herself off would make it all go away.

...It didn't. But she still forced herself back up and onto her feet. Humming a simple tune to compete with the screams echoing in her head, she collected berries from a nearby bush in her skirt and then ambled back to her hollow tree. She paused when she stepped on something that gave a distinct crunch. Paper? Reaching down to examine it, she found her throat was dry again. It wasn't from thirst this time.

Now it seemed that the village people had found a name for her. It was the headline of the poster in her tiny hands, scrawled out in bold, bold letters. 'Little witch with the touch of death'.

Fear barely had time to wrap its icy hands around her before she caught the unmistakable sound of voices nearby. Men. Hunters, maybe? And if posters were strewn this far out in the wood, then... Dropping some of her precious berries to the ground, the girl panicked and scrambled to hide in the base of her hollow tree.

 

[Sash]

At the break of dawn, he came into the town through the eastern gates, on foot, a large leather bag soaked with blood thrown over his shoulder, a parchment with a job contract in his hand, road dust and leaves in his tangled hair, and immense tiredness in his bright blue eyes. He marveled at the sight, shocked not to meet any guards, and hid the parchment in the inner pocket of his long fur coat, way too warm even for the chills in the air at this time of the day. He still intended to visit the chief of defense, and would need his paper for that, but something was telling him that the chief won’t be accepting audiences anytime soon. A pity, for he couldn’t think of a place to leave his bloody baggage other than the barracks.

He was greeted by a weeping woman, who approached him on unsteady feet, her hands red with cuts from the waist and upwards. “Master Bennett,” she recognized him, probably by the large figure with broad shoulders, as well as his Southern clothing manner, because his face looked different now than when he just left the town, as his stubble grew darker and added him at least five years on top of his thirty-with-a-heap. “Master Bennett, did they find the witch?” she asked but was too shaken to tell him what exactly happened. He offered a healing spell to help her wounds, but was pushed away and shouted at, because, in her words, this town had enough magic for one bloody day.

He proceeded deeper into the streets, shocked by the picture: grown men, women, and children all wounded in the same manner, healers barely managing to tend to them all, soldiers gathering in groups and organizing some kind of patrol – if it wasn’t for the houses still standing untouched, not burned with an enemy’s fire, he’d think there was a bandit raid on his dearest town. He asked several times who would do such a thing, but wasn’t given a proper answer until a guardsman – a friend of his - bumped into him at a crossroad.

“Master Bennett!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up with a tired but excited smile. “I did not know you were back in town! You must be after the witch, too?”

“I just arrived,” the man answered, offering a brief smile in return. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“They’ll pay three hundred gold pieces to whoever brings the witch’s head,” the guard jumped into explaining, though his words were rushed and didn’t make much sense at first. “I’ll be damned, Master Bennett, if I don’t cut it off the deathly kid myself! You know what happened to Lica? You remember Lica, don’t you? We were to celebrate our wedding in but ten days’ time. Now her face is all cut, and last night she cried to me saying she’ll never be as beautiful as before. She’s still crying, my poor Lica!” He gasped for air, impatient to walk away and join the town’s vengeful hunt.

“And the witch?” the man asked, frowning in concern.

“Escaped through the western gate, we believe it’s hiding in the forest.”

“Why aren’t you with Lica, then?”

The guard blinked as if he didn’t understand the question. He was younger than the one he called Master Bennett, way more hot-headed and less considerate when it came to distinguishing important and valuable things from a parade of false pretenses that was revenge and hatred. “I gotta go,” he snapped and excused himself, and handed the other man a piece of paper, “here’s about the witch. I hope you help us find her.”

“I’d rather help the wounded first,” the man sighed, but the guard was already running towards the western gates. Well, it’s not like he could do anything about people’s distrust, anyway. The only ones less fearful about magical spells were kids, but their parents intervened as soon as someone spotted a sign of “foul magic” anywhere near their precious offsprings.

The forest was cold and unfriendly. The trees were tall and offered a lot of shadows, and the wind picked up speed when rushing between the trunks and branches. The man, too used to warmer weather, buttoned his coat tighter, tied a scarf around his neck and the lower half of his face, swallowed his inner desire to rest after the long journey he just completed and joined the search. He couldn’t compete with hunters in their ability to hunt though. His height and broad shoulders didn’t allow him to walk quietly, and his steps were heavy and loud. The rattling of his armor was only softened by a layer of fur, and the metal clanking of the sheath of his sword against his belt was easily heard at a considerable distance. But if anything, he believed it to be an advantage. If the witch – if it even was a witch – was as malevolent as people described, he’d be an easy target. If it wasn’t, his noises would drive her away – further away from the town, that is. Either way, he was winning.

The hollow tree caught his attention by accident. Nobody would look inside it, because it didn’t occur to the soldiers that the “witch” could have been frightened and hiding in such a shelter. Simply put, nobody looks for a demonic beast where a squirrel would build its nest. He looked inside and couldn’t hold back a quiet and compassionate “Oh, dear!” – when people said the witch was a child, they surely didn’t lie. And what a child! Small, and fragile, and pale, and probably scared for her life! The man shook his head. It’s not that he pitied children. There were cruel, horrible beasts that disguised themselves as kids. It’s just that he was willing to push his luck when no one else was.

“Found anything?” someone behind him asked, and he heard a pair of footsteps approaching.

“Nothing but grass and dry leaves,” he lied confidently. The footsteps stopped for a moment, then turned back and soon faded away. They’d be back soon, he knew. But until then he figured he’d make some sense of the witch’s strange actions.

“Hey,” he addressed the child with a soft smile. He was a big but kind man, and even though his statue could appear frightening, his face was that of a friend to all children. “Are you hurt?”

 

[ellarose]

The deafening thump, thump, thumping of her heartbeat upon being discovered steadily calmed when she realized what was happening. Grass and dry leaves? He lied for her? But... why? The girl dared to release the breath she held onto, summoned all the courage she possessed, and shyly glimpsed the man blocking the entrance of her hollow tree. The man who had only just discovered her. And instead of glaring at her, he smiled like she was a friend instead of a scary witch. Perplexedly, she tilted her head to the side. Hm. If only a glance could have told her why he was acting this way. Unfortunately, his true thoughts weren't written on his face like the headline on a poster. Shouldn't he be upset with her? Shouldn't he want revenge for his family or friends or-- or even the reward promised for turning her in? Remembering the chaos she had wrought to land herself there in the first place, she flinched like a wounded animal and averted her eyes again. Even if he was taking pity on her... the baker's wife had been generous too, hadn't she? And the poor woman was the one who truly got hurt. Her and who knows how many other people in the village when she fled. It would truly be better for everyone if she disappeared in the wood, wouldn't it?

Frightening creatures lived out in the thick of the woods. People screamed at things that frightened them. The village people screamed at her. Which clearly meant that she was a frightening creature, too, and...

It wasn't as though anyone would miss her. She didn't even have a name.

The girl quickly shook her head 'no' to answer his question. Saying without words that no, she wasn't hurt. There were bruises and scrapes crisscrossing her elbows and knees. Her back and feet were undeniably sore from her ordeal. But she wasn't bleeding or dying, was she? This man might bleed if he touched her, though. Like everyone else.

"Just resting in my house. 'Course I'm not hurt." She tried her very best to sound definitive and grown-up about it. Even if the concept of a hollow tree being home to anything other than a family of squirrels was, well, ridiculous. But she was just a child-- and a frightened and tired child at that. And in her mind, if she pretended this was normal enough, maybe he would simply accept it as fact and go on his way? Still. She ought to warn him, oughtn't she? "...You might get hurt if you come any closer, though."

Bowing her head with shame, she curled her dirty toes and hugged her legs to her chest, huddling even deeper yet into her hiding spot. She was cornered and there was no place else for her to go. Sure, she was small enough in stature and quick enough to push past him, but-- did she really want to risk injuring him in the process? Especially if he meant her no harm?

"I won't go into town anymore. No one will ever see my face again." She rasped out, seeing no other option than to give her solemn word. "Cross my heart. I won't hurt anyone else."

 

[Sash]

The man’s smile widened with relief once the girl had confirmed she wasn’t hurt. With the townsfolk blinded with rage and revenge, he feared the worst – that they somehow wounded the child before they gave it a second thought. The guards were quick to draw their swords around here, too used to horrible beasts and creatures awaiting at every turn to see that there’s more to the world than evil and malevolent forces of destruction. Well, the girl wasn’t hurt. Not only in her own words but as far as he could see, too. He didn’t notice any blood, at least. That was great. He saw the bruises and scratches, but those weren’t immediately dangerous and healed quickly on a young body.

He tilted his head to somewhat match her expression. If she wanted to talk like an adult and pretend that this was a completely normal situation, he could do that, sure. With some effort, admittedly, because his instincts were telling him to just grab the child, and then do the caring, whatever that included. She probably hasn’t had a proper meal in quite a long time. The man couldn’t quite get over how small she was, especially compared to him. He towered a head above the guards, not to mention the rest of the townsfolk.

“Some house!” he exclaimed in a theatrically disappointed manner, though his voice stayed as quiet as he remained cautious. “Have I perchance mistaken a wild squirrel for a young lady?” He bent over to take a better look inside her little shelter as if he was actually considering the possibility of her being a squirrel. “Or maybe you’re a swarm of wasps?” he added, scratching his head.

He instinctively stepped back when the girl threatened him to not come any closer. It’s not that he was afraid of getting hurt, but he felt necessary to show her he didn’t mean her any harm at all, and wouldn’t approach if she didn’t want him to. She looked scared enough already, and frightening her even more was the last of his intentions. It took him a few moments to realize that what she was saying wasn’t a threat at all, but a warning.

“That’s quite alright,” he assured, as he stepped back some more, but only to reach a little spot where the grass was particularly thick and soft, and sit down, cross-legged, right in front of the hollow tree. “Everyone will heal,” he added, and it wasn’t just to make her feel better. He saw the wounded. No one was dead, and there were enough healers in the town to take care of everyone. Nobody was going to die. Everyone would heal eventually. “People heal quicker than you think,” he said confidently, “though sometimes they think before they heal.” He wasn’t sure she understood that he was talking about the hunters and soldiers who went after her. Surely, sometimes dangers called to action, but there were other times – times like this one – when people should have reflected on what they were planning to do before going and doing it. It’s easy to put a bounty on someone’s head, but they tended to forget that, once chopped off, it can’t be put back in place.

“Here,” he reached into one of the pockets of his coat and pulled out a big yellow fruit the name of which he didn’t know. It looked ripe and, as far as he knew, was quite sweet. He bought it yesterday from a vendor he met on the track not too far from the town’s walls. He put the fruit on the ground between the girl and himself – in fact, as far from himself as the length of his arm allowed. “I could buy you a proper meal later. Not in this town, if you don’t want to come back.” He could understand that. With a bounty on her head, she would want to find a new town where nobody would recognize her as a “witch” that hurts people. For now, though, he just needed her to come out of the shelter for a moment so he can cast a spell to help her bruises and scratches heal. Sometimes he was so angry with himself for not putting enough effort into learning better healing spells earlier in life. He was by no means a professional in the matter and regretted it deeply.

“Can you tell me what exactly happened?” he asked, it seemed, but a hundredth time today. “In your own words.” Not what the people said. People – no matter how many – were often wrong in their quick judgments.

 

[ellarose]

Food. The man brought up food and she simply could not get it out of her head. She had been so hungry and yet she had dropped the berries she collected out in the wood when she heard the approach of the men's footsteps. That was a particularly concerning part of her plan to live out here, wasn't it? Would she really be able to live on handfuls of berries forever? Well, maybe she could learn to catch fish from the stream, or... or either way, no matter how wonderful his offer sounded, she still sat as still as a gargoyle on a castle ledge, trying to gauge his intent. This mess began because she accepted the kindness of a stranger, hadn't it? And this man, however kind, was not traveling alone. She may have been a child, but she lived on the streets for long enough to know that you couldn't trust everyone in this world. There were shady characters that walked the village streets. Some people with no place else to go disappeared without a trace. She may have been invisible, but she heard everything as the town bustled and gossiped around her.

For some reason, though, she wanted to trust him. Maybe it was because of his smile.

The girl's stomach answered when words failed her as it growled. And growled loudly, at that. Loudly and fiercely, like a wolf protecting her pups. She blushed and quickly pressed her hands over her gut as if that might erase that it ever happened. The fruit looked so tempting, full, round, unbruised and probably tastier than anything she had ever stolen from the farmer's cart. She was salivating. And yet, and yet…

"The baker lady caught me stealing. I was hungry." Her stomach spoke again, as if to confirm this for her. The girl curled herself into an even tighter ball. "I was hungry and she brought me bread. But when I reached out for it..." Unfurling her palm, she looked down at the crumpled poster she had found. She didn't realize she'd been holding onto it so tightly this whole time. "'Touch of death', like the posters say. When I took the bread, her hands started bleeding. She was nice to me. I didn't want to hurt her." Blinking rapidly when her eyes became wet, she shook her head violently. She doesn't like thinking about what happened next. But the man needed to hear the whole story, didn't he? "I was confused and... and the people were so cross with me. I got scared and I-- I can't remember what happened after that. I ran into the woods and..."

And that was essentially it. She found the hollow tree she was in this very minute, a conclusion the man could see right before his eyes.

"But she's going to heal...?" The girl asked hopefully, remembering his words from before. She tried to make herself a bit brighter as she nodded to herself. "That's good."

Feeling a trifle more comfortable after sharing her story, the girl glimpsed the fruit the man had offered once again. Like a frightened rabbit gradually coming out of hiding, she cautiously poked out from the entrance of her hollow tree. She didn't have the chance to even think about reaching for the fruit when she heard the sound footsteps and voices again. Oh no, oh no. The group the man traveled with must have realized he was missing. They were coming back for him! A tiny noise of surprise left her throat. She couldn't crawl back into her hollow tree-- she didn't want to be cornered there. So she quickly scrambled up to her feet and took off deeper into the woods.