Jori watched her sister leave with the adventurers. Both of the women held the girl’s hands as they walked, and she could see a skip to her sister’s step as she went with them. There was a lightness to her voice, an excitement that was common to any child that had just been told a story. Tales that had been denied to her all her life. She clenched her jaw and looked away from the girl, except now she held the knowledge of something else.
Her sister had a name.
Aria. It sounded pretty, and now that it had been said Jori could not think of anything else to call her sister other than that name. It was too fitting, and with its utterance she felt the last fragments of that image, that cold, uncaring stare from years ago, fall away.
Jon joined her in the silence. Normally, the boy was easy to read, his ability to hold any emotion back nonexistent. Now, however, her brother’s face was blank, its absence of emotions only telling her that he must be experiencing many of them at once. She recognized such sensations.
She was still feeling it now.
“It would be best for you to return home.”
She turned to Leon, his black armor glinting in the scattered rays of moonlight that pierced the veil of trees they hid behind. He too, held no emotion to his face, but the air about him exuded complete control, an opposite to the storm that brewed within her mind.
“We should escort them at the very least.”
Ren appeared from behind Leon. While he appeared to be much more approachable than his partner, the calmness around him surpassed the gruff man’s in spades. It felt too calm, and Jori could not meet the robed man’s gray eyes. She felt… scared looking at them, like all that she held inside would be exposed if she stared for too long.
Leon scanned the area around them, then nodded, “Did you see anything?”
Ren shook his head, “Either they did not decide to eavesdrop or their capability to hide outstips my ability to see,” he frowned, “I pray it is the former.”
The armored man’s jaw tightened, “I see… for now, let’s see these two back safely.”
He looked to Jori, expectation clear on his face, and she turned in the direction of her home. She shook Jon when he didn’t respond to her motions, and while it gave her brother a start, he did not say anything else when he started to follow.
The walk back to their house was made in silence, much to her relief. Some part of her expected Leon and Ren to question her further in regards to Aria, but she had seen them investigate the shack themselves. In reality, they probably knew more than her. In the past, that would have meant nothing, but now, even as she felt numb to everything that tumbled throughout her mind, she felt a needle digging into her chest.
She never tried to learn, never tried to understand.
The feeling lingered even as they arrived at their house. A shade of blue was cast over the complex, and for a moment it was as if she was in a dream, and that injured part of her so desperately wished that were true.
“There we are,” Ren said in a satisfied tone, “we’d walk you to the door, but I imagine your father isn’t too fond of us,” a corner of his lip quirked up, “or of his children sneaking out in the middle of the night.”
Jori and Jon did not say anything to that, and walked into the fields. Her eyes fell upon the shack, and out of impulse she turned back to the two men.
“Are you going to take her away?” she asked.
The smile faded from Ren’s lips, “Yes, we are,” there was a weight to his voice that was not there before, only magnified by the way he looked directly at her eyes.
Jori looked away, and when she found the courage to look back, they were gone.
Jon was still walking towards the house, and after she failed to find the two men again she ran to catch up with him. That needle in her chest was starting to grow into a knife, and in her haste to push it away she found herself running faster. She had to get to her room, to lay down and sleep, to forget about h-
“She has a name.”
Jori stopped and looked back at Jon. Her brother stood in the empty field, looking at the dilapidated shack in the distance. He still wore no emotion on his face, but there was a tremble to the boy’s voice as he spoke. A tremble that she knew that she could not soothe.
“Yes, she does,” It was all that Jori could say.
“She was laughing,” Jon said, “she got scared, she got sad,” his eyes started to glisten, “wasn’t she supposed to be a monster?” he looked to Jori, his emotionless mask broken, replaced by the pleading expression on his face, “an unfeeling, cold monster that lived in the shack.”
She knew what her brother wanted her to say, but she couldn’t say it.
“She’s just a girl,” tears streamed down his face, “Jori, what have we-” he shook his head, “what have I done?”
Jon’s shoulders started to shake, and as he sobbed a dark impulse came over Jori. A loud, intrusive desire that told her that they did nothing wrong, that they did what they had to do to stay safe. An insidious instinct that told her that it was all Ar- the girl’s doing, the fault of a monster with cold, uncaring eyes. The fault of a monster that almost froze her to death. A monster that was putting on an act… the semblance of a girl for the sake of pity. They had done nothing wrong, they were staying safe. They had to stay safe.
The tears that ran down Jori’s face told her none of those things were true.
She walked up to her brother and held his head up, meeting his eyes with hers, “Something that cannot be forgiven.”
Jon sobbed again, “We have to do something… anything to make it up to her.”
“We are long past that,” she tried to keep her voice calm, but it was easy to hear that she was failing.
It was not the words that her brother wanted to hear, but she needed to say them just the same. There was no point in deluding herself that forgiveness was possible. She could blame her father, blame how he raised her, but it was her who willingly obeyed his instructions, it was her that did nothing while the townspeople called her sister a monster. All of that was her, and even if she could not be forgiven the least that she could do was acknowledge what she did.
“The best we can do for her is hope that she is taken to a better life,” Jori said, “...away from us.”
She wished she could say that she spoke purely for Aria’s sake.
___
“That was quite the interesting tale.”
Helbram looked to Elly, who had stayed with him in the tavern of The Wandering Fowl. Jahora had taken Aria upstairs to put her to bed. The girl didn’t want to disturb Cora or Erik, who were already asleep. Leaf went to patrol the streets around the building, still cautious despite not seeing any signs of the golems that they were looking for. The Black Cloaks’ plan of using Aria to lure the Shade’s puppets was not successful, though even they admitted it was not the most sound idea. Though Helbram did wonder why they were taking so long to get back.
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“I am surprised I remembered it, to be honest,” Helbram said, “the last I heard it was when I was a child, but the way that she was looking at the moons… it all came back to me.”
“And good that it did,” Elly took a seat next to Helbram at the bar, “I don’t think she’s been that vocal since we met her.”
Helbram smiled, “That is true, unfortunate that such a reaction come from a butchering of the tale,” he snorted, “I am sure my grandfather would give me quite the lecture for not including other details that I must have forgotten.”
“That would be a bit heavy,” Elly said in a dry tone. She frowned, “according to some.”
“Still bitter are you?” Helbram said with a smirk.
“Just a tad,” Elly said while pinching her fingers together, “...here I thought I’d naturally be good at it, given my parents.”
“Storytelling is an art,” Helbram said, “And like any art it requires practice. Perhaps you need to get back into the swing of things.”
Elly gave him a side eye, “So you agree with Leaf?”
“I admit to nothing,” Helbram said. The Weaver gave him a frown and he returned a grin. Elly scoffed and looked away, but he could see the smile tugging at her lips.
“Still, I am curious to the story’s origins,” she said, “There have been many theories as to why there is a crack in the moon, but I can’t say that I’ve heard of a children’s story that addresses it directly.”
“Is that so?” Helbram asked, “Unfortunately I could not tell you much about where the story came from, just that my grandfather was the one that told it to me.”
“Yes… but you mentioned that he was a scholar, correct?” she spun in her seat and leaned her back against the counter, “what was his subject of study?” her eyebrows raised, “if you don’t mind me asking, of course.”
Helbram smiled, “Not at all, though I must admit I spent far too much time of my childhood training to give you a detailed answer,” he rubbed his chin, “the man is wise in many things - he was in charge of my education, after all - but what he was most knowledgeable in was stories.”
“Of what sort?” Elly asked.
“All kinds,” Helbram said, “the man could tell you tales of dragons from the Far East one moment and stories of the ancient cities on the Southern Continent the next,” he smirked, “all in excruciating detail, of course.”
Elly nodded approvingly, “As it should be. But, a scholar of stories? It is not unheard of but it certainly is rare.”
“He himself admitted it so,” Helbram said, “Would often say that perhaps his talents could have been used in other fields of study, but when the man would speak of ancient legends…” he smiled, “Well, it could not have been any other way.”
Elly gave a warm smile, “I’m sure he had quite the audience to keep the passion alive.”
Helbram chuckled, “Perhaps he did,” he stared at the far corner of the tavern, but his eyes were distant, “he would always tell me that stories held far more to them than just fancy worlds and tales of daring, that within each story there was always some kernel of truth. It was just a matter of figuring out what that truth was,” he took in a deep breath, “When I was a child, I promised him that, when I grew up, I would help him find out what those truths were.”
He remembered the sad smile on his grandfather’s face. The knowing look of a man that had been made a promise that could not be kept.
“For now, I will be content that I could give a girl a reason to wonder,” he said.
Silence fell over them for a moment.
“Perhaps if we have time… we could see him,” Elly suggested, “I’d be interested to hear these stories of his.”
Helbram smiled, “He would like that.”
___
Aria lay in the bed, bundled under its covers such that only her head was uncovered. She wasn’t tired, nor was she ready to sleep, but she did revel in the warmth that was building around her. Jahora was at the window, her eyes searching as she peered through its pane. The woman’s brow was furrowed, and she was biting her thumb. It was clear that she was anxious, but for what Aria did not know.
“What’s wrong?”
Jahora turned to her, her face instantly shifting to a smile, “It’s nothing, just keeping an eye out is all.”
Aria frowned. It was clear that Jahora was hiding something from her. The woman noticed this.
She sighed, “You are quite perceptive, you know that?” she walked next to Aria’s bed and sat at its foot, “but rest assured, it is nothing that you need to worry about.”
“But you’re still worried about it,” Aria countered.
Jahora snorted, “You’re not wrong there…” she took in a breath, “and I shouldn’t be, things are going so well.”
She didn’t say anything more, but Aria decided to push.
“But you are.”
Jahora laughed, “I never would have taken you as a persistent one,” she fell back against the bed, “I… I just feel like this peace could break at any second,” there was a slight tremble to her voice, but she cleared her throat and it vanished. She sat up and clapped her hands against her face, “But this is my burden to bear, not yours,” she sat up from the bed and walked over to Aria, placing a hand on her head, “the burden of sleep, however, is all yours,” she said with a smile.
Aria looked into Jahora’s eyes. It was well hidden, but there was a pain there, one which, deep down, felt familiar.
“Do you want me to teach you that song?” Aria asked, remembering how fond the Mage was of it.
Jahora ruffled her hair, “Not now, Aria, you’ve done enough for me already,” her pointed ears perked up, “how about I treat you to one of my own? It may not be as lovely as the one you performed, but I think it will help you sleep.”
Aria nodded, smiling as the woman’s sadness started to fade.
Jahora cleared her throat and, still brushing Aria’s hair, started to hum.
It was a simple tune, carrying a slow, calming melody that rocked back and forth, sweeping Aria up in the tides of its notes. It was… comforting, like a warm blanket over her soul, and with every brush of Jahora’s hand, the girl could feel her eyes grow heavier. Her vision started to blur, but the melody remained, and as she drifted off she started to dream.
Dream of a knight and a wizard who fought a drake.
Dream of sisters that danced amongst the stars.
Dream of the smiling faces that pushed the cold away.
As the last of her consciousness faded, she heard Jahora’s voice.
“Thank you Aria,” she said, “Thank you for being alive.”
___
When Aria woke, she was trembling.
Fear had not taken her, as she did not feel her heart racing, nor did she feel that deep hollowness to her chest, but even under the covers did she tremble. When she pushed the blankets from her she saw gooseflesh trail down her arms, and out of instinct she started to rub them, though it was a useless gesture. As she breathed, a light mist parted from her lips, shimmering in the pale sunlight before dissipating.
When she looked around the room, she saw that it was empty, though the luggage of Elly and Jahora still remained. When she walked by the window, she saw that it was sunnier than usual, but as she approached to peer through it she noticed how much it fogged as she exhaled. The girl’s breath quickened as she stepped away, but before her thoughts could linger on what she was feeling could mean, her attention was captured by the sounds outside her room.
She heard chatter and the clattering of plates, a noise that she’d grown familiar with over the past couple of weeks. Jahora and the others were no doubt in the middle of their morning meal.
Jahora… she still remembered the woman’s sad smile, the pain it brought to her chest. Aria went to the door and opened it, letting the laughter down below ring clear in her ears.
Yes… happiness was there. Happiness that she always wanted.
She walked to it, a hunger growing in the back of her mind, the trembling in her fingers growing worse as the desire grew. She made it to the stairs and walked down. As she expected, they were all enjoying a breakfast together, one of bread, eggs, bacon, and even porridge. The smell of it all drifted up the stairs, but she could not feel her mouth start to water, like it had before. Still, she walked to them. With them she could be warm. With them she would not tremble.
Helbram saw her first, his smile calming the shake of her fingers. Jahora noticed her next and stood up from her seat, the warmth in her expression causing the hunger to recede. Slowly, as the others looked at her, as she saw their welcoming faces greet her, the trembling stopped. She smiled back, and for a brief moment felt that everything would be alright.
Then Ren looked at her.
The robed man’s eyes were wide, but there was little else that betrayed what he was feeling. As Aria approached, he stood up, an action that drew the confused attention of everyone at the table.
“Jahora, wait a moment,” he said, his voice measured, but cautious.
The smaller woman stopped and turned, but didn’t say anything.
“I need to confirm something…” Ren explained as he walked past her.
He knelt down in front of Aria, the gray of his eyes shifting to gold. He did not say anything as he looked her over, his brow furrowing more and more the longer that his eyes lingered. When he stood up, let out a long breath, his once relaxed expression giving way to something far more grim as he looked back to the others.
“The seal is breaking.”