28. Faylinn
Chapter 28
Faylinn
T he walk into town was scenic and I enjoyed every minute of it, even with the rather awkward and heavy box of tonics I carried. There was something to be said for living off the land and with the land. I really couldn’t picture myself living in a large city, and I was glad that I didn’t have to. My life was here, in Isrun, and I was content to keep it that way, even if some other part of me longed for an adventure, or at least a challenge. The challenges here were small—aches and pains related to age, a broken bone on a child, a few scrapes or lacerations to mend—and I desired something deeper. But I was also content to live in a place that was mine, a home that was mine, and near people who meant something to me.
The sun rose higher in the sky as I walked, burning off the remaining fog that was a permanent fixture this time of year, and the air heated even further. My breaths came in pants, the sweat from both my tryst with Ben and the garden work earlier this morning was back in full force, trailing down my neck and back and causing my hair to stick to my forehead.
I should really invest in a small pull cart , I thought as I changed my hold on my box once again. I wasn’t out of shape necessarily, but the walk from my house was long and the box was heavy. The vials clinked as I adjusted my grip again, my sweaty hands struggling to find purchase on the wood.
With a grunt and a sigh, I bent over and set the box on the road .
I’ll just rest for a bit.
I looked down the path and noticed that I was relatively close to the town. From the top of the hill I stood on, I could see the edge of it, dominated by a few houses and small farms. Beyond that was the little town center, which was my destination for today. If I could just make it to the farmhouses, Ben would inevitably stop his work and help me with the box the rest of the way into town.
Which was great, because my arms were feeling a bit like wet noodles, and seeing Ben was always the highlight of my day.
I twisted my back a bit, trying to stretch before bending down to heft the box again.
Oof, tonight was going to be rough .
I could already feel my muscles cramping and knew that it would only get worse as the day wore on. The sun was barely halfway through the sky.
Maybe Ben could visit again and work his big hands into my abused muscles before putting them elsewhere . My core clenched shamelessly at the thought.
Hussy!
I hummed tunelessly as my feet crunched against the dirt path. I thought about the most recent book I was reading—an encyclopedia of plants—to distract myself from the discomfort in my back and shoulders and the constantly slipping box.
“Ho, Faylinn!” a deep, rumbling voice called as I finally neared the edge of our town, my heart rate picking up at the familiar sound.
A smile crawled across my face as I squinted in the sun to see Ben standing and waving to me from his perch on the stone wall that surrounded his family’s property.
“Good morning, Ben!” I called in return. Ben was incredibly good-looking, tall and muscular from working the fields with his father, eyes that matched the earth he worked, and a mop of brown hair that was always unruly no matter how much he tried to tame it. He was an Earth Mage with no Vessel—many of the Mages out here didn’t get the option of a Vessel—and he was extremely popular with the women in town. Though he cut his wild ways once we decided to take our friendship to something more. I never begrudged him his history, the man could do wicked things with his tongue.
I blushed at the thought, thankful that the exertion from my walk covered up any evidence of embarrassment. While I was never embarrassed of Ben or what we did together, I was far from experienced.
Ben jumped from the wall, the muscles in his shoulders flexing as he pushed himself off, and met me halfway down the path. He stopped right in front of me, making it impossible to continue walking without running into him.
I halted and stared up at him. He was at least two heads taller than me and wore a shit-eating grin.
Is he thinking of last night, too? How he took me first on the wall by the door and then again on the table before we collapsed in the bed together?
My nipples tightened and my core clenched, again, at the memory.
I shook my head slightly at the thought.
“What’cha shaking your head for?” he teased.
I shrugged my shoulders as best I could while holding the box. “Just curious as to why you’re stopping me without helping me with this box.”
Ben’s face fell and he looked sheepish before quickly grabbing the box from my hands.
I groaned as the weight left my hands and Ben shot me a heated look.
Clearly he was thinking about last night.
I brushed my hands off and stretched my back again before gesturing to the road. Ben stepped out of the way, and we quickly fell into stride. We walked quietly for a few minutes, stopping every so often to speak with a neighbor or inquire about people’s health. At our fourth stop, I gave one of my vials to Mrs. Henshaw to help ease some of her pregnancy discomfort.
“Oh, Fay, let me pay you, please,” Mrs. Henshaw said as she pocketed the little vial. Three kids ran around her, chasing each other with sticks, and another two were jumping off the porch of the house. The whole scene was mildly chaotic. The youngest Henshaw, barely a year, was doing her best to pull Mrs. Henshaw’s breast from her dress, clearly needing to feed.
“Uhm, no that’s quite okay! You’ve got enough going on . . . here,” I said as I gestured lamely to the utter chaos happening in the front yard. The two oldest boys were now wrestling each other in the dirt, throwing punches at every exposed body part. Why this woman wanted to have another child was beyond me, and I sent a silent “thank you” to Sharol for the conception rune we inked on my stomach last week. It was reversible, thankfully, but I highly doubted I wanted any kids, especially if they behaved like that .
I slowly started backing away from the fence and Ben followed me.
Mrs. Henshaw looked relieved at my words and thanked me profusely as she unabashedly pulled her breast from her dress and began feeding the baby.
Aaand that’s my cue to leave.
I had no problem with nudity, especially when feeding a child was involved, but it wasn’t something I was just going to sit around and watch, either.
I turned quickly on my heels and strode down the road toward the town, my pace brisk. Ben jogged a bit to catch up with me, the sounds of the Henshaw clan fading the farther we walked until it was muted in the distance and all we heard was the crunch of our feet against the path.
“You’re a natural at this, you know?” Ben said, breaking the comfortable silence.
“What do you mean?” I looked up at him, a wayward curl falling in my face. I crossed my eyes and blew it, only for it to rest on my nose again. Ben chuckled softly at the sight.
“This. Helping people. How’d you know that Mrs. Henshaw needed this particular tonic?” He tenderly brushed the curl behind my ear, and I shrugged my shoulders.
“She’s pregnant. Has a horde of miniature humans. And is helping in the fields. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she’s a bit stressed.”
Ben just shot me a look.
“This particular tonic is brewed with lavender and eucalyptus. Both of which have relaxation properties, especially in their scents. When the tonic is applied topically, it seeps into our skin and helps relax our muscles, too,” I explained. “I read it in a book,” I added when Ben looked at me quizzically again.
“Of course you did, Fay. You’re smart, and way too good for us,” he said with a soft smile.
My cheeks pinked again, and I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see.
“Can you believe that Mrs. Henshaw is only our age?” he asked after a minute. I barked a laugh.
“Yeah, do you remember school together? She was always trying to get the older boys to notice her.”
“And look how that turned out.” Ben grimaced .
“What? She seems . . . happy,” I said. “Content at least. She has a family, a husband who loves her and cares for her, a roof over her head, and food in her belly.”
Ben hummed in thought.
“I can think of a lot of worse things,” I added quietly.
Like feeling out of place. Or never being loved .
I shook my head at the dark thought.
“And, is apparently having a lot of sex,” Ben said as he wiggled his eyebrows.
A loud laugh burst out of me, and I threw my head back in mirth. We made eye contact as my laughter subsided and I saw a sparkle there along with a glimmer of heat.
I gulped and darted my gaze away, back to the road.
What would it be like to have a family with Ben?
It wouldn’t be long before his mother convinced him to get married and have a brood of his own. She was already putting pressure on him, and I was in no place to start a family.
Maybe I should cut him loose? Let him find someone to give him what his family wants?
It wouldn’t be long before one of the other girls in town snatched him. He was strong, a hard worker, and exceptionally kind. His charm and good looks didn’t hurt either. I snuck a glance at him out of the corner of my eye and I settled on his rather large and calloused hands.
And other parts of him are just as large . . .
“What’cha staring at?” I jumped at the question and stumbled over my answer.
“Uh . . . the . . . uh. The box. Yes, the box. Is it too heavy for you? Do you need to switch for a while?”
Ben only smiled. “Fay, if a thing like you can carry this all the way from your house, I’m pretty sure I can carry it into town.”
“Thank you, Ben,” I said, softly. We continued ambling toward town in comfortable silence, calling out and waving to people as we walked. The trip from the Henshaw’s to town was relatively short and the dirt path soon changed to cobbled stones which widened into a larger road as we passed the walls surrounding the town center.
The village was small, and the center of town reflected our population. The main town square, which hosted the shopping district and government center, was comprised of just over a dozen buildings, half on the north side of the road, and half on the south. Market Street ended just after the buildings and the cobbled road expanded into a large square that faced the small manor house, which housed the mayor and his family. A small pool of water sat in the middle of the square and, as always, it was full of women washing clothes, children splashing and bathing, and horses drinking.
Even as I wrinkled my nose at the thought of all that bacteria in the water, I couldn’t help but appreciate life in a small village. It was more of a large extended family than a gathering of strangers, and my chest warmed at the thought.
“It’s something, isn’t it?” Ben asked beside me. He wore a smile that I was sure was similar to my own, and his tone was revenant. The sounds of children laughing and women gossiping provided a happy background to the whole scene.
I hummed in agreement.
“Though I am particularly glad to have my own water supply.”
Ben barked a laugh at that before hoisting my box up onto his shoulder. “Come on, witch. Let’s get you to Holt.”
He placed one of his large hands on my lower back and guided me down Market Street. I sucked in a breath at the pleasantly warm contact and let my body relax a bit into his hand. I wasn’t sure if this thing between Ben and I would go anywhere, but I was happy for his company.
Holt’s store was a stone’s throw, literally, away from the central square, and we reached it in under a minute, though we stopped at a few of the market stalls along the way. From early spring through late fall, there were always food stalls lining the edges of Market Street. Honeyed breads, fruit, vegetables from local gardens, fresh meat from hunts in the woods—you name it, there was a cart run by a local family supplying it. I even had my own cart a few days a week where I sold some of my most popular tonics and creams.
The smell of honeyed bread stuffed with fresh wild berries drew me to the baker’s cart, and I reached behind me for Ben’s hand, pulling him along with me as he laughed. My stomach growled, reminding me of the work I had already put in today and the lack of food I ate.
Cotton would be so disappointed !
“Two honeyed breads, please! Oh, and any of your day-old bread if you have it,” I asked.
Jani, the baker’s wife, smiled kindly at me. “For you Faylinn, we have anything.” She was warm and kind and what I pictured an aunt to be like. She certainly treated me like family, and I appreciated her. Jani gave me the breads I requested and, as I tried to shove two coins into her hand, she backed away and shook her head.
“You fixed up my Micha this winter, Fay, when we couldn’t pay you. Please, take the bread.”
“Jani, maybe if you took my coin, you could pay me,” I jested in return and redoubled my efforts to pay her.
“Nope. You keep those coins and that bread.” She shook her head again, so I tucked my coins back into the bag at my waist. Ben took the breads for me but left me with one of the honeyed breads.
“Fine, but we’re even now, Jani, you hear me?” I waggled a finger at her just as I pushed a rather large mouthful of honeyed bread into my mouth and moaned at the taste. It was tart from the berries yet carried the sweetness of fresh honey. And it was warm . Both Ben and Jani laughed at my reaction to the taste. I simply shrugged my shoulders before taking another bite.
“Have a good day, Faylinn! Ben,” she said as we walked the final few feet to Holt’s store. I was feeling light and happy, but my mood dimmed slightly when I saw a Mage in a black tunic and matching pants standing stoically outside the shop’s door. His Vessel stood within arm’s reach and wore the same outfit. The only way to distinguish that she was the Vessel and he the Mage was by the runes embroidered onto the shoulders of their tunics.
I shot a glare at the Mage as Ben opened the door to Holt’s store for me, but he seemed completely unfazed. Neither the Vessel nor the Mage even seemed to recognize our presence.
“I hate that they have to be here now,” I said once Ben and I were fully inside the store. I shoved the last of the honeyed bread in my mouth and dusted my hands on my pants as we waited for Holt to emerge from the backroom.
Holt’s shop was small by large city standards, I imagined, but it was the perfect size for the necessities the villagers needed. Holt carried a variety of items that we couldn’t get or make on our own and allowed the townspeople to barter or pay with coin, something that, again, made this feel like more of a family than a community.
I gazed around the space, taking in some of the new wares that Holt added to the store after the most recent wagons came in from the Southern Territories. There was some interesting meat hanging in the back icebox. Long, thick strips that resembled bacon, but with a black tint rather than the normal pink hue. I shuddered at the sight and quickly moved my gaze elsewhere, where it caught on a range of herbs and dried flowers hanging from a shelf on the wall. I walked over to investigate and heard Ben set the box down on the counter with a sigh.
I smiled to myself.
Men. Can’t even admit when a box is heavy .
I reached my hand out and ran it over a strange plant, it was short and prickly with a small pink flower on top and a faint sweet smell. I gasped and quickly retracted my hand when the plant poked me.
A rumble of laughter sounded from behind me as I sucked on my finger to ease the sting.
“Careful with that one, Fay. It bites back.” Holt was an extremely large man, and his voice rumbled as he spoke. I turned with a grin and promptly launched myself at him.
“Holt!” His laugh boomed across the small store as he pulled me in for a tight embrace, my feet coming off the ground.
“Little Fay!” I was by no means little, but Holt had acted as a stand-in father for me when I got here. After I phased out of the small children’s home as a teenager, he let me live in the storage room of the shop, cleaning it out and adding a small bed and nightstand. Without his help, I wouldn’t be where I was today, and I was forever indebted to him. For all intents and purposes, he was my father, and I loved him dearly. Though, we were both terrible at admitting our feelings. So, he was still Holt, and I was still little Fay.
After I built my home in the woods and started making my tonics, I made sure to keep Holt constantly supplied and expected nothing in return. After everything he did for me and the love he continued to show me, I couldn’t accept anything from him. Doesn’t mean he never tried.
“It’s so good to see you. It’s been far too long,” he said as he gave me one last squeeze and set me down on my feet. His arms lingered around me, though, and I leaned into him just a bit. It did get lonely sometimes out in the woods, and I loved Holt’s hugs, they were warm and completely encapsulating, like sitting in front of a fireplace with a blanket and a book on a snowy day. I inhaled deeply one last time, savoring his smell of pine and smoke, before stepping back and rolling my eyes in jest.
“It’s been three days, Holt. Three days.”
He boomed another laugh and tousled my hair with one of his big, calloused hands.
“Three days too many, little Fay.” He winked as he lumbered back behind the store’s counter. “Ben, how’s the family? How’s the farm?”
Ben straightened from his position against the counter and tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his clothes as Holt’s gaze fell onto him. “Uh, great, sir. Everyone’s all good.”
“Humph. Is that so? Then why’d your mam come in here yesterday asking for more Earth crystals?” He eyed Ben expectantly, one brow raised, and his arms crossed on his broad chest. I had been under that scrutinizing gaze a few times growing up and knew exactly how unnerving it was.
Ben’s head fell in shame.
“I’m using them too quickly, Holt,” he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear.
“You need to slow down, kid. Especially with the slim chance of getting a Vessel. The more you burn through the crystals, the more you’ll need. I don’t think I need to tell you what happens when you can’t get the crystals you need, eh?” Holt lectured. Ben shook his head in silence. No one needed a clarification of what happened when you couldn’t pull enough power. Eventually, no matter what type of Mage you were, or which god claimed your power, if you couldn’t draw enough from the crystals, your power ate you from the inside out. Any person’s blood, Mage or Vessel, contained wisps of magic, it was how we were able to sense power and channel it. There were even extensive theories and papers written about it, scholars speculating that we were all born with wisps of every type of magic within our blood, a person’s affinity simply depended on which was more dominate at the time of our Awakening. Genetics obviously played a factor in that—if you had Elemental parents, the likelihood that a person had any power other than an Elemental power was slim to none—but I always enjoyed reading different interpretations on the origins of magic .
Mage Sickness, as we started to call it, found those wisps of power and attacked, not caring that the power was attached to vital organs. Everyone’s symptoms were similar: chest pain, rapid heart rate, and a feeling like their blood was on fire, which eventually progressed to blood, and magic, leaking from every orifice before they inevitably died. Death was slow and painful. It wasn’t the way any Mage wanted to go.
Just last spring, Ent, a Pleasure Mage, succumbed to Mage Sickness. She worked in a pleasure house in one of the larger villages a few miles away and was used relentlessly for her gifts. She was forced to channel continuously, pushing her gifts into clients, which apparently made them finish faster and tip larger. But she burned through her crystals faster each week, until, one week, there were no crystals for her in the weekly rations. She tried desperately to get back here, to her home, but she collapsed somewhere between the two towns. The sickness took her, and by the time travelers came across her body, she had already bled out. Her family was still grief stricken, moving about in a catatonic state, barely surviving the loss of their only daughter.
Mages, especially ones in rural villages like ours, tried to reduce the amount of magic they used, to not need crystals or only use a few of them each week. The effects of not using power were just as devastating—the magic went into survival mode, again attacking the wisps of power found in our blood and often killing the person in the same manner as if they had used too much.
Balance in all things.
I shuddered a bit at the thought. There was no known cure for Mage Sickness and my herbs and tonics could only do so much to ease the pain and allow the patient to sleep as much as possible.
“I have your crystals for this coming week, Ben, but there’s a caveat,” Holt said on a released breath. I had never heard him sound so sad before, so resigned.
“What?” Ben was twisting his hands through his hair and lightly tugging on the ends.
“There’s less than usual. Three less, to be exact.”
“Fuck,” Ben cursed and closed his eyes, his hands still in his hair and his head tilted back. “So, I’ve only got two for this week, then?”
“Seems that way,” Holt said. Ben said nothing in return, just removed his hands from his hair and opened his eyes, the usual mirth absent. In its stead was a resignation, a defeat that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Thanks, Holt,” Ben finally said as he crossed the room and took the bag of crystals from Holt’s hand, stuffing them in his pocket. He turned to look at me but his gaze wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’ll see you around, Faylinn. I’ve got . . . well, I’ve just got to go clear some things up.” He gave me a wan smile and abruptly left the store, the door slamming slightly on his way out.
Holt and I stood in tense silence for a few minutes after Ben’s exit.
He’d complained of chest pain recently, but we attributed it to his work in the fields. I suddenly felt a sharp stab of guilt, first for not recognizing the symptoms, and then for using his magic this morning in my garden.
What kind of lover, what kind of Healer , was I?
“I’d tell you he’ll be okay, little Fay, but I’m not one to lie,” Holt said softly. “I wish it were true, I know how much you . . . care for him. But I just don’t know.”
I turned from the door to regard Holt. “I care for him just as much as anyone in this town.”
A smile tried to tug at the corners of Holt’s mouth, but it fell quickly. “Just . . . be prepared, lass.”
I wrung my hands together and mused over Holt’s words as I heard him move from behind the counter to sort through the bottles of tonic that I brought. Holt knew me well enough to not try and offer any type of physical comfort or words of reassurance, I needed logic in times of fear, not emotion.
There has to be a way to reverse it. There is balance in all things . . . Maybe one of my books would hold the answer, or maybe it was time to visit the Librarian again while I was here.
I did promise Cotton a new book today .
“I see that mind of yours whirring over there,” Holt said as he unpacked the box and shelved the tonics near the window. He had enough that the villagers should be set for the next few weeks, which was good because I knew I’d be otherwise indisposed with a book for the foreseeable future.
“Hmm,” was my only answer as I moved to help him unpack.
We worked in silence for a few moments until my box was empty, the bread I purchased earlier placed back inside so I could carry it home with me. Holt placed one of his large hands on my shoulder and squeezed softly before directing me back to the strange plants I saw earlier.
“These, girl, are called cacti, or at least that’s what the merchant told me yesterday. Not sure what they do, but they seem like a prickly bunch.” I laughed despite my mood, and I was pleased that warmth and mirth replaced the look of resignation in Holt’s deep-chocolate eyes. They matched his skin and I always pretended growing up that he actually was my father, even though my skin was much fairer than his own. Holt untied one of the cacti and placed it delicately in a pot before setting it in my box for me, knowing as usual what I wanted without me even having to ask.
“I wonder what they’re used for?” I mused as I stroked the spines, careful not to let them prick me again.
“You and your plants. I’m sure one of your books would be able to tell you,” Holt said, his voice warm and full of humor again.
I perked up at that. “You’re probably right, Holt. I need some new books, especially with a few new . . . developments.” I shrugged at the piercing look Holt gave me at that admission. “What? You seriously cannot expect me to not research it or try and find something to help him now that I know?”
“No, lass. I don’t. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
I scoffed slightly, “I know better than that, Holt.”
He wrapped me in another tight hug before handing the box back to me. “Be careful, Fay. Knowledge can be freeing, but it’s also a chain. Once you know something, you’re honor bound to do something about it. It’s simply who you are.”
I sighed as I opened the shop door. “And who do you think raised me to be that way?”
Holt ran a hand through his close-cropped curls, recently peppered with white, before waving one of his big hands at me. “Get out of here, before I prick you with that cactus in your box.”
I laughed before stepping onto the small porch outside. “I love you too, Holt!” I called with a wave.
The door slammed behind me, and I breathed in the early spring air. For it getting so hot so quick this year, the air still smelled sweet like spring and hope.
Or maybe that’s what you want it to smell like .
The Mage and his Vessel were still stationed outside the store when I left, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and shoot a verbal barb his way.
“Do you have nothing better to do with your day? Rebels aren’t going to just come up to the storefront in plain daylight, dickhead. Go glower at someone else with your salary paid by our tax dollars.” I threw my hand up in indignation as I turned around and strode across the street. Before I turned, though, I swore I saw the corner of his lips tip up.
I walked quickly, barely greeting familiar faces as I passed. I had a mission now, and once I aligned myself to an outcome, I rarely strayed from that path. Especially when knowledge was involved. And especially when that knowledge could have the potential to impact someone I cared about.