Fantasy The Dark of the Wood

[The One Called X]

The Dark of the Wood
It's the spring of 1163, and something awful is happening in the small Irish village of Kilvea.

It's a sharp turn in luck, to be sure, after the miracle of the previous winter. The crops had been struggling, in the harvest season, and most of the farm animals sick. But it all turned around, somehow, just before it was too late, and the winter had been kind. Not a single soul was lost to hunger or the elements- a thing to be grateful for, indeed. Of course, that was before the children started vanishing.

It began with the four-year-old daughter of the half-mad widow who lived on the edge of the village. A tragedy, true, but still- it was only a matter of time (and this was always said in a knowing tone with a sad shake of the head) before the Fair Folk lured her off. Living so close to the wood, and such a beautiful child, with such bright yellow hair- yes, of course, it was only a matter of time. And then it was the blacksmith's little son, and farmers' children of every age- and within weeks, there were only a handful of children under five left. No changelings left in their places, only empty beds and cradles and the echoes of laughter in the night. Precautions work- cold iron, four-leaf clovers, old bread- but only to delay what is fast becoming inevitable.

As a last resort, a group of villagers- in defiance of their priest, their lord, and their elders- hire an odd, itinerant young woman, who seems to have a gift for knowing things she oughtn't and- even worse- appears to have bound one of the sidhe to her will. A witch? Perhaps, but desperate times lead to desperate measures, and anyone knows that humans will march into Hell for their children's sake.

The handful of brave, desperate souls gather in the house of the one who lives nearest to the wood, to meet their guide and prepare for the journey ahead. If you want to ask questions, or back out- this is your last chance. Once you leave, you must see your journey to its end.

Spoiler: Optional post BBcode

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[The One Called X]

Sarah

Sarah twisted her hands in her lap, silent and uncomfortable. She wondered when she'd become so unaccustomed to Lysander's absence.

Oh, she had a vague idea of where he was. She always did. They were, in a sense, never truly parted. Only-

Sarah glanced at Frieda from the corner of her eye, then immediately dropped her gaze back to her hands, twisting in the grey wool of her skirts. She was uncertain, of people. She unsettled them, with her vagueness and the intensity of her gaze. And they, in turn, made her nervous. Lysander also made her nervous, but he-

He was-

Sarah bit her lip.

Frieda was the one who'd asked for her help, told her of others willing to follow. It had been something of a relief. The ground had been insistent in leading her here- north, north, north, and then east, inland, farther and now- now the trees tugged at the corners of her mind. To the forest they must go, but- the children wouldn't be there, Sarah knew. Not in this forest- but the only way to find them was to go deep enough that the woods ceased to be these woods, until they became somewhere else, someplace that didn't belong to humans. There was no question that the children had been claimed by the Fair Folk, but- in such numbers, all at once, with no changelings or other clear signs? It was unheard of.

Lysander thought the entire affair was deeply amusing. But then, Lysander was fae. Everything was amusing to him.

Except for you, came the unbidden, uncomfortable thought. Her brow furrowed at the memory of their conversation that morning. They won't make it, you know, he'd said, unusually serious, tilting her chin up so she'd be forced to meet his eyes. Vibrant, cobalt blue- nothing human had such eyes. They won't make it, and you'll think it's your fault for leading them, and you'll weep over it, sweet girl. He'd brushed his knuckles over her cheek, oddly tender despite his complicated expression, before he'd wandered off. He did things like that sometimes. She never knew what he meant by it.

But anyhow- Lysander was fae, and that was why he was not here. There were things people would need to be told, precautions to take. He was- gentle, in a way, to Sarah; and perhaps their best hope of surviving this quest- but he was not a tame creature. She had no illusions that he was not capable of the same cruelty as his brethren. She could restrain him, usually, but it was best not to take risks.

It was afternoon, now, close to the agreed-upon time. Sarah glanced at Frieda again. Perhaps it was time to begin speaking, if only so it would be less difficult to retreat into herself once the others arrived.

"The- others, they'll be here soon."

She winced a little. Stating the obvious, yet again.

It Begins

The RP has officially started! It's around three in the afternoon, and your character heads to Frieda's house to meet the mysterious stranger and prepare for their journey.
Tags: imacrazyllama Life. Troldmand KiKi Kitsune Coin

 

[imacrazyllama]

Sean walked throught the field, nervously sweating beneath his thick leather apron and gloves. Switching the hammer to the hand with the sack of bread and cheese as he walked up to the entryway. He braced himself, and knocked on the door.

 

[Life.]

Nevin

At what point in time did Nevin ever consider venturing off to find lost children a sane decision? What in the God's name was he thinking?

Nevin asked himself that very question as he stood in the middle of a path staring out at nothing in particular. Finally the rational side of the priest in training caught up to the boy's actions. He was headed towards Missus Frieda's residence for the start of their journey. But now he was starting to question his decision.

Was there really a decision he had made in the first place?

The boy tried to recall his thought process from when the kidnappings started, but all he could remember were the emotions he felt; frustration, anxiousness, and helplessness. This in turn clouded all logical processes and fueled his emotional impulsiveness to persuade himself to take action. While this may be some part of the truth, Nevin knew this wasn't the main reason. Deep down inside the boy's heart was a selfishness that pushed him to embark on a quest that interacted with forces that went against his beliefs; to become a hero.

Nevin may not want to admit it but after learning that his father was Fintan Killough, he has wanted to achieve the reputation that the man had earned and even more. He wanted to prove to others that he was a better man than Fintan was.

Which now brought him to his current predicament. Should he continue on with this decision?

Nevin's right hand tightened around the strap of the knapsack he carried. His eyes looked over towards the general direction of where Missus Frieda's house lied and saw the back of another boy heading in the same direction. For some reason this brought some relief to Nevin. In some way his mind was psychologically trying to reason with itself that since someone else decided to join in on the party that he should go as well. After all he would be mad if they ended up finding the children and receiving the glory for it without him being a part of it. Just that thought alone convinced the boy's mind to proceed as planned.

With somewhat confident steps, Nevin followed right after the boy he spotted soon catching up to him at the entrance. He stood a few steps away from him to receive his first impression of him. Nevin was somewhat familiar with all the names of the people in the village but he was horrible at tagging the name to a face, so no name came into mind when he looked over to the boy. He did however note how nervous the boy appeared from his apparent perspiration.

Nevin heaved a big sigh as he stood there dreading his decision again, but because he was already standing by Missus Frieda's door and surely noticed by the boy next to him Nevin could not back down. Not unless he wanted to appear like a weakling, which at the moment the blonde saw the redhead as because of his short attempt at a knock to the door. Because of the urgency of the situation, permissions to enter the lady's premises were given earlier. With this detail in mind, Nevin decided to take the initiative. First he cleared his throat, simultaneously throwing a sideways glance to the boy next to him, then called out to Missus Frieda. "Missus Frieda we're entering in." Without waiting for a reply, the blonde stepped forward and swung the door open to allow himself in. His eyes glanced back to the redhead behind him, "Come on in, time is of the essence."

 

[Coin]

Gilbert

Shame, such a shame. Bless one village the courage and feed to survive a winter, but at the loss of all the children? No sane parent would take that trade. Every single one of them would rather have it the other way around without so much of a drop of hesitation. But everyone knows that wasn't how the fae worked, the tricky bastards.

Me, take me instead. They wept, but no amount of weeping would bring back the lost. That much Gilbert knew so very well. Only action would bring closure, and that was why Gilbert volunteered. Not to earn favor with the peasants of Kilvea, not for the reward or accolades, not to appease God above -- just because Gilbert could deliver closure to empty homes. Plus, it's what his wife would have wanted if it had been their child lost.

Gilbert grit his teeth as his eyes squinted to the horizon. He gave his rucksack one swift adjustment, causing a bit of clattering and strain, then continued to march towards the small farmstead. He was a bit farther behind the other two that had shown up, and it was almost certain that they didn't even know Gilbert was following them. It didn't matter, he would meet them soon anyways. When they disappeared inside the house, Gilbert hastened his pace and followed in their tracks.

When he arrived, he breathed in a steadying breath and knocked on the wooden door with the back of his knuckle, "It's Gilbert. I'm here." Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the door and let himself in to join the others. Upon entering, he lowered the hood to his cloak and ran his fingers through his scraggly oaken hair.

 

[The One Called X]

Sarah

Sarah jumped at the knock on the door that sounded nearly as soon as she'd finished speaking. The door opened, and a pair of boys rushed in- one blond, one redheaded. They were followed by a man who introduced himself as Gilbert- his manners were more evident than the boys', but she supposed that that was to be expected. Sarah took a moment to observe the newcomers, turning her gaze on each man in turn. It was unnerving, for most people, when she did that. She'd been told many times by many people- her mother, her caretakers, the man she'd been supposed to marry- but none had put it quite so poetically as the traveling bard she'd met at an inn one night, in her first month of traveling. You've no idea what it does to a man, do you? he'd said. You're such a beauty that I wish I could look at you forever, but whenever you turn those pretty eyes back on me it's as if you can see through to my very soul, and know every terrible thing I've ever thought. It's awful and thrilling all at once.

Sarah, desperately uncomfortable, had mumbled some excuse and fled before he could say anything else. Even the memory was enough to make her fidgety. She returned her attention to the present moment. It was difficult, sometimes, to keep her mind from wandering, but she had to try.

The redheaded boy was taller than her, though his bearing made him seem small. He carried a large hammer- a blacksmith, then? Sadness clung to him like a cloak. The blond boy was smaller, of a height with Sarah, perhaps, pale and with an air of... desperation, maybe? Sarah wasn't certain. Thirst, perhaps, for adventure or glory... or a desire to flee, to rid himself of shame and inferiority. The man was thin, undernourished. He, too, carried grief with him- old, settled grief, not fresh and burning like Frieda's. Sarah liked him, she decided. His eyes were kind.

She rested her hands on the table, lowering her gaze to them. "I'm Sarah," she said. "I suppose there are still a few more people to wait for, and there are things you must all be informed of. But for now... is there anything you'd like to ask me? I'm afraid I don't know how much any of you know."

Coin imacrazyllama Life. Troldmand

 

[KiKi Kitsune]

Leah

It had just been issue after issue this morning. One of the pigs had gotten out, the milk had spoiled, and to top it off, Leah couldn't find her one boot. She stormed around her home, one foot in a boot and the other with just a sock. Eventually she found her boot being gnawed on by the dog. She had half a mind to kick the creature, but then it would just bite her anyway. With a yank, she reclaimed her shoe and was finally able to get going. She yelled a goodbye as she left the house which was answered with a farewell and then shouting. Leah sighed. She was glad to be getting out of that for a while, at very least.

She made her way up the hill towards the forest where the witch girl lived. She saw three figures in the distance. She squinted but still couldn't make them out. They went into the witch's hut. They were probably here for the same reason. Leah was getting frustrated at how long the walk was taking, but she knew better than to run. She got there a minute or two after the others had entered. Without bothering to knock, Leah opened the door a little too hard.
"I'm here for the children hunt thing." She looked around and saw faces that she didn't really recognise. "I'm Leah, in case you care for names." She introduced herself.

 

[KvronSB]

Turlough [IMG='width:175px;']https://img00.deviantart.net/4d74/i/2014/311/b/a/daily_portrait__002_by_h1fey-d85l5gk.jpg[/IMG]
Rumors have spread in and out of Ireland for many years. Sometimes they hold their validation, but most of the time, rumors are nothing more than gossip. But it's the fear of the unknown that kept Turlough up at night. There had been quite a number of alarming disturbances that have been noticed through Kilvea's small community, in the past few months. Anything that ever comes about in Kilvea has Turlough's attention, because of the value that the village holds within. Asking villagers on the outskirts of the town had become fruitless, and never lead him to the answers that he wanted. What started as "children have been wondering off without their parents, when they shouldn't," soon turned into a distressful number of reports of children missing. Rumors claim that kids started wandering through the woods to play and get away from their chores. Some claimed that there might have been some wild beasts that have been spotted on the outskirts, attacking children as they come through, but living on the edge of the village for some time, Turlough knew the land wasn't producing child eating beasts. But the rumors didn't give Turlough any answers. They were mere speculation at a situation that was much larger at stake. And nonetheless, he had his own brothers and sister that could have fallen victim to these disappearances. He couldn't stand to wait around for the stories to become more clear before he acted.

Turlough gathered his gear together and shuffled them together in his knapsack. The air was quite crisp this afternoon. The chill of the wind had never been too kind to him through the years. He couldn't tell if it was the wind that chilled through his shoulders, or if it was the thought of his family in jeopardy, but he knew he had to keep moving. He threw the last pile of dirt onto the smoldering site he had camped at the night before. The smoke rose and cleared through the gusts in a matter of seconds. There must be something I can do.

He threw his bag over his shoulders and tracked along the path he was familiar with. He had traveled this same path for a number of years. He knew the path that leads to and from Kilvea. It must have been pure adrenaline of fear that he quickened his pace towards a town that he knew wouldn't accept him. After all these years. Is there any way I can get a chance for direct answers?

Maybe there are children in the village that he knew of, aside from his own brothers and sister, that has been missing. He reflected on all of the friends that he had grown up with who all had siblings. What if they were in a panic at everything that had been happening? Could they have loved ones missing too? What's happened to this poor town that I used to know?

Then he stopped. He remembered Evelyn. There wasn't a day that went by that he wasn't thinking about her. The way her hair smelled of a subtle Irish Sweet Pea. The she smiled at him when he would grab her by the hand to lead her through the woods. The way that she would carry herself in such a loving manner when she would take her sisters into town for the harvest festival because she knew how much it had meant to them. Evelyn...

Her sisters may be a part of the missing children. He imagined the way it must have ached her heart to have something happen to them. He remembered it as a similar look as when he was leaving the village for his last time. The pain that it had caused her. I can't let anything happen to them. He secured his things and began again at more of a sprint. He knew that time was fragile and that he couldn't waste any more time where he was. He began blazing down this path until he heard the sound of voices coming from a cabin nearby.

"I'm afraid I don't know how much any of you know...." "I'm here for the children hunt thing."

Turlough began to slow down and watch carefully as people entered this cabin. He couldn't recall a house ever being build here. He knew that he had ventured through these parts for a number of years, but still hadn't ever recalled passing through and seeing this home. Has it always been here?, he wondered. It appeared as though it's walls were established well before he ever passed by it, but he still never noticed until now. He approached the cabin cautiously and knocked at the door.

 

[Life.]

Nevin

Nevin's blue eyes glanced backwards as he felt another presence follow after him and the red-headed boy. A cloaked man who introduced himself as Gilbert had followed right behind the two boys. In fact Nevin recognized Gilbert as he revealed himself by his removal of the hood on his cloak. He was the gentleman that came time to time to help clean up around the church. Douglas had told Nevin that he was a man of a kind but broken heart and that he was a man who was destined for heaven. The boy didn't quite know what he meant by that, but how he interpreted was that he was a man to look towards.

Nevin's thoughts were interrupted when a young woman introduced herself. From the diction of her sentence she was an important player of the operation, but who was she exactly? She had a different air about her. Mysterious and unknown. Nevin concluded that she was the guide for the journey, the witch. At least that was what he was told of from small blurbs of conversations. Sarah, what an ordinary name for an anomaly. Nevin instinctively felt suspicion in his heart as he allowed the labels of the villagers to influence his thoughts.

He had been aware of an unusual guide for the mission, but now as he stood there in the foreign home with a room full of acquaintances and/or strangers his decision was starting to appear poorly made. Once again his doubts were beginning to anguish his mind. The witch was right in that he was not given much information. Just that there were children missing and they needed to be saved. But from what? Then there was the question of how? How are they supposed to find the children? How are they to trust this guide, this witch? As the small amount of details began to fall into place, Nevin felt a slight surge of panic. His heartbeat began to unnecessarily accelerate as small beads of sweat began to line the boy's forehead.

Nevin's pride was nowhere to be found at this moment. A sense of urgency to flee began to dominate his mind. His eyes glanced from Sarah to Gilbert to the red-headed boy then to the door which was opened up by a girl who introduced herself as Leah. All these people...they were fools. What hope, what power did any of them really have to find the children? What if all this was a set-up by this Sarah? The what-ifs began clouding Nevin's judgment.

The boy tried to stay as composed as possible, his chin lifted slightly up higher than usual and his nose scrunched up. He needed to stay strong. Like Fintan. Like Fintan.

In the end it all came back to that man. His reasoning, his desperation, his pride. Nevin made it his goal to become better than Fintan, and this journey surely would be the ticket to that path. That's right. Nevin needed to go onto this mission. For himself...and the children. There was the children to consider too.

Finally coming back to his somewhat sane self Nevin cleared his throat prepared for his questions to be answered, all the while not completely committing to the mission quite yet by withholding his introduction. "If I may ask, how shall you be guiding us on this journey? That is if you are the one that had heeded the villagers' call. How can we know that you are true to your word? Is there perhaps something you have that we do not that will help us?" As the onslaught of questions flew off the boy's lips, a knock sounded on the door of Missus Frieda's home. Surely they knew they could simply walk in? Were they not a voluntary participant of the journey from Kilvea? Nevin's eyes had momentarily glanced over to the door when the knocked sounded but his attention was mostly on Sarah, the witch.

The One Called X imacrazyllama Coin KiKi Kitsune KvronSB Troldmand

 

[imacrazyllama]

Sean

It seemed to Sean that every time someone else entered this shack it would get warmer. By the time this strange man with the unkempt beard entered he felt like the forge itself.

He observed the people there, the, strange girl who made his spine crawl. She was a beauty to be sure but, those eyes, they reminded him of a fish he saw at the market. The church boy, it seemed like he had smelled the same fish a week later. Did I really smell that bad?

Gilbert, the only reason he knew his name is that he had once helped out at the forge. His eyes told Sean something, although for the life of him Sean had no clue.

The last three were mysteries to Sean, He had seen both of the Women but barely knew them. The elder who owned this house seemed nearly double his age but even then he couldn't seem to look in her eyes. Something was there that he didn't want to see.

The younger, the only thing he knew was that the housewives would constantly be gossiping about her house, but it seemed like every time he got close enough to hear them clearly. Their would be nothing to talk about.

Again the man with the unkempt beard. Sean had never seen him before in his life, and he smelled of the forest.

Nevin said something that sounded unpleasant. Which brought Sean out of his thoughts, and with this he realized that he should be telling the one with the scary eyes his name.

"Oh um, yes, my names Sean, the blacksmiths son."

It seemed like the right thing to say at least.

 

[The One Called X]

Sarah

Sarah took a moment to study the girl who barged into the house. She was similar to the blond boy, in a way- she was running from something, Sarah was nearly certain. She did seem far angrier, though- and of course Sarah's intuition, strong as it was, was still no match for truly getting to know a person. She returned her attention to the blond boy as he broke the quiet.

"If I may ask, how shall you be guiding us on this journey? That is if you are the one that had heeded the villagers' call. How can we know that you are true to your word? Is there perhaps something you have that we do not that will help us?"

Sarah was quiet a moment, thinking how to respond. She should be grateful, she supposed, that she hadn't been outright accused of witchcraft yet.

"I have... a sense, you might say. I know where I am needed. The ground tells me, the wind, the rocks, the rivers, the plants. I can- feel- where I am meant to go. That's what brought me here. I didn't know what I'd be needed for until I was told of the missing children. It makes sense to me, now, why I feel as if I'm being called to the forest, where the Fair Folk dwell. This is almost certainly their doing, and we are-" she cut herself off. She'd need to explain Lysander at some point, and yet. And yet. It was one thing to speak of a calling. It was another to reveal one's association with a fae. "I am certain that I know how to guide us there and back. As for being true to my word, all I can do is to assure you that I am here in good faith, because it pains me to think of the families that suffer."

She took a breath, smiling at the other boy who introduced himself- Sean. "I think- this is everyone, yes? I must warn you that this will be a dangerous journey. I will give you as much information as I am able. Please, heed my words, and think carefully if this is a venture you truly wish to risk yourself in."

The door swung open again. "Yes, mortals, turn back. Turn back, before it's too late!"

Sarah heaved a sigh. She should have known better than to think that Lysander would have waited for them.



Lysander

Lysander tossed an apple in the air, caught it, and tossed it again. It was perfectly ripe and completely out of season.

He lay back and took a bite, listening to the voices that filtered through the roof of the village woman's house. Sarah was already being questioned, of course, though fortunately no accusations of witchcraft had been flung. Yet. Mortals were terribly finicky about that sort of thing.

His mouth twitched. If he'd had his way, they'd have never come here. Best to keep her away from other humans. They always seemed to end up hurting her, one way or another.

It was interesting, at least. His brethren stealing away all a village's children of less than five years? Uncommon, to be sure. Not to mention inconvenient, and messy. What use were that many children to anyone? They were charming enough on their own or in small groups, but a herd of them would be horrendously loud and difficult to keep track of.

He smiled a little at the sound of Sarah's voice. She had such a sweet voice, as soft and gentle as the girl herself. He frowned, though, when she shied away from mentioning him. A sharp flash of irritation replaced his ease. Very well, then. He was capable of introducing himself.

He stood, tossed the apple away, and strode to the edge of the roof, jumping down to land next to the man standing at the door. He looped his arm through the man's, flashing a grin. "Come now, my good fellow, this is no time to be timid, now is it?"

With that, he opened the door and entered, pulling his newfound companion along after him and declaring his presence with what was, in his opinion, excellent timing. He disengaged from the man and made a beeline for Sarah. He ruffled the hair of the blond boy who'd questioned her as he passed, perhaps just a little too roughly, and stood behind Sarah's chair, resting one arm on the back of it and wrapping the other around her shoulders, pulling her back towards him. She huffed. She was irritated. Wonderful. "I asked that you wait outside, Lysander."

He shrugged. "I missed you too much, darling," he said, "And besides, I found you a straggler." He gestured at the man he'd found outside. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't even ask his name."

Sarah sighed again, one of her hands coming up to grip his wrist. She was always uncertain about things like this. It was improper, apparently, for him to behave this familiarly with her. She made no move to extricate herself, though, so he remained as he was, watching the play of the sun on her hair.

"That is one of the most important things to remember," she was saying. "If you forget everything else. Never, ever give your name to a fae. A nickname or other false name is one way. You can also use your true name, but you must be cautious with your phrasing. Always say 'You may call me,' or 'I am known as,' or 'I'll respond to,' never 'My name is'. If anyone asks you if they may have your name, say no and tell them what they may call you. And do not eat any food you're offered. You've all brought provisions, I trust?"

Life. Coin KvronSB KiKi Kitsune imacrazyllama

 

[Life.]

Nevin

Did it really matter what Sarah's answer came out to be? After all Nevin already knew how ridiculous this idea and situation was. Was her answer really going to be one that would satisfy him or even reason with the logic of the circumstances they were in? As he stood there digesting the words that turned out to be her answer he slowly determined himself to be insane. There was nothing comforting or concrete about the answer. It was all based on feeling. Nothing logical about it.

He should have expected such an answer but hearing it in real time simply convinced his doubtful side that it was right. Perhaps he should opt out of the mission. There was very little certainty to it. If perhaps some certainty existed then he would have considered, but there was little to none.

"Faith you say? Sense? Feel?" each word escaped his lips in a low, soft tone. He wasn't really returning a response back to Sarah, instead he was simply talking to himself. The madness was already starting.

And it only seemed to continue when he heard an irksome voice entering the premises. Nevin, along with everyone else's, attention looked over to the door as a new face dragged a man inside. The owner of the nagging voice was a rather perfectly inhuman man. Immediately Nevin felt irritated and anxious around him. His annoyance was solidified when he felt the stranger's hand ruffle his hair. Ruffle his hair! The audacity of the man!

"Ha. If this the formation of the group then I will have to opt out. I wish you all the best on the trip as you seek out the young, lost souls." Before anyone could question him on his reason to leave, Nevin turned and stormed his way out. That inhuman man certainly convinced a majority of his mind to not continue on this quest. His intuition was screaming at him not to trust the pretty man. Something was off about him and really with everyone. This was all a mad plan to begin with.

The One Called X imacrazyllama Coin KiKi Kitsune KvronSB Troldmand

 

[Coin]

Gilbert

Gilbert's nostrils flared when Sarah's companion entered the cramped confines. There was an air of unnatural mystery about him, and if Gilbert's gut was right, the man was no man after all -- it was a fae. As for why Sarah was such an object of its interest, Gilbert could not answer, but her knew that something was certainly up. As it turned out, he was not alone, as the young boy, Nevin had a much shorter temperament that matched his age. It took only the fae's presence and a tousle of hair for him to begin stomping his feet on the way out. No matter -- it was probably better for young men like Nevin to stay out of danger for the time being. Their village desperately needed those with plenty of years ahead of them to survive. He made no attempt to stop the lad.

Gilbert cleared his throat to draw some attention towards him and raised a brow at both Sarah and the creature that she had called Lysander, "Last question, Sarah. Will he be helping us?" Gilbert made quick gesture with his hand towards Lysander, questioning his intentions.

To say that Gilbert had reservations travelling alongside a known fae was an understatement. Not that he believed Lysander wasn't capable of helping them find the village's children, more so Gilbert was concerned with what he wanted in return.

 

[The One Called X]

Lysander

Lysander watched in amusement as the boy stomped away. "That's for the best, truly. He practically reeks of the church." He turned his gaze on the boy with the hammer. "And really, how many frightened children do we need with us?"
Sarah stood, shaking off his hand. "Lysander. That was cruel." She fastened her cloak, glancing at the man who'd spoken. "I will not speak for Lysander. His words have more weight than mine. He is Fae, he cannot lie. You may believe him more easily than you'd believe me." Her tone was matter-of-fact. Lysander's smile slid away, his jaw tightened. She was so accustomed to being mistrusted by her own kind. Petty, timorous, panicky little creatures. It made them fun to toy with, but it was- irritating- when it affected Sarah.
"I might help you," he said, "If the mood strikes." He thought, briefly, of the look on Sarah's face when she'd spoken of the missing children. "I don't care to hinder you. All I care to do is look after my Sarah. Her, I'd protect with my life. The rest of you are your own concern, for better or worse." That ought to assuage them. Of course, he'd made no promises. Should looking after Sarah require doing the mortals some mischief, then that was hardly Lysander's fault. It was up to them, really.
Sarah frowned at him, and he caught himself beginning to look away like a guilty dog. He forced himself to return her gaze. "I ought to make you promise to help," she muttered, but of course she wouldn't. It troubled her, the thought of forcing anyone into anything. She sighed, settling her bag over her shoulder and looking at the rest of the group. "For those of you who still wish to join me, it's time we set out. We've some time yet until twilight. It's best that we get as deep into the woods as we can before then. It's the in-between time, when we'll most likely be able to cross from our realm; and the farther from cultivated lands we are the better our chances."

imacrazyllama Life. Coin