In the weeks that followed, the heat of summer began to ease away, and the people of Elediah’s Trail discovered what they would eventually come to call ‘normalcy’. Though they looked to the east every day for threats from the mountains, they saw no hint of demons on the horizon. Physical wounds healed, and slowly, people learned how to go on without those that they had lost.

Another lumber expedition yielded enough wood for the cooper to start making new barrels, and the people were eager to collect rain water and begin preparing for salting and pickling their eagerly awaited harvest.

Though Arvel tried everything he could to refuse the resources offered by the villagers, there was little he could do when they returned from another lumber expedition and dropped off a wagon full of logs in front of his gate. By Frederik’s reckoning, the villagers’ logic was solid; some of the most important members of their community were living in his house, and it needed to be repaired, secure, and weatherproof before winter.

Lunette was back on her feet again and beginning to train with the local militia, trying to recover the step she’d lost through her recent ordeals. In spite of her frailty, she commanded respect from the militiamen simply by merit of her experience. The militiamen often found themselves answering her most common question: “Just what has Arvel been teaching you?”

Fidget had begun leading hunting and trapping parties up into the mountains. With no demons about, it was remarkable how quickly small and large game had returned to the area, and no one was more excited to have fresh meat in the larder than Fidget.

Though Rain was still living in Arvel’s home, and sleeping every night in his bedroom, or ‘the den’ as Fidget had taken to calling it, he felt like he hardly ever saw her. She left at the crack of dawn most mornings with a day-old biscuit or a boiled egg in her hand to eat on the way to Elediah’s Trail, and often didn’t return until dinner time. By the time they were settling in for the night, there was never any time for Arvel to speak with her alone, and he was getting the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.

On one fine morning, just as summer was giving way to autumn, Arvel decided to take a walk into the settlement. He’d taken to wearing his father’s sword on his hip, shabby scabbard and all, which looked rather awkward with his dingy overalls and straw hat. But it was a part of the new ‘normal’ here, and all of the townsfolk greeted him with a smile and a wave.

“Good morning, Arvel!” Frederik called out, looking up from his book of crop records that he was meticulously updating.

“Mornin’!” Arvel called back, “You seen Rain around?”

“I believe Lady Deleraine is hanging laundry, last I saw,” he replied.

“Thanks,” Arvel said with a nod, picking up the pace a little as he jogged through the small cluster of one-room wattle and daub houses.

On the northern side of the settlement, the ladies had put up posts and laundry lines, and were hanging their freshly washed and wrung linens up to dry. Arvel kept his distance as he scanned the maze of gently flapping sheets and curtains, until he noticed her carrying a basket of lightly damp sheets.

Rain had taken to tying her hair back with a scarf to keep it out of her face, as she couldn’t stand to part with even an inch of her lilac tresses. She hadn’t worn silk or satin in months, and had taken quite comfortably to a commoner’s dresses and pinafores. She looked just like a ‘country girl’, laughing and chatting with the other ladies.

As Arvel approached, the other women found excuses to quickly slip away, leaving Rain confused as she hung the sheets up on a line all by herself. She gasped when Arvel stepped into her periphery, dropping a wooden clothespin on the ground by her feet.

“Believe y’dropped this, m’lady,” he said as he bent down and picked up the little wooden pin, and offered it up to her.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, before offering him a shy smile. Her fingers brushed faintly against his before quickly taking it back, and giving him a quick “Thank you.”

But as she pulled her hand away, he caught it in his.

“There a reason you’re lookin’ at me like ya want to turn tail and run?” Arvel asked, keeping hold of her hand.

“That’s not— W-Well I, I don’t mean anything like that,” Rain stuttered, glancing about and realizing there was no one else nearby.

Arvel stepped toward her, and Rain stepped back, until her back bumped against one of the posts of the laundry lines.

“Y’may not mean it,” he said, “But you’re darn sure doin’ it.”

Rain looked down, her cheeks deeply flushed as he stood close to her, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his chest so near to her face.

“We ain’t hardly spoke since we came down off that mountain,” Arvel said, lifting an arm to rest his forearm on the post above her head, and leaning his head down a little closer to speak more quietly, “Y’ain’t got nothin’ against cuddlin’ up at night but it don’t seem like you want to risk havin’ a private conversation with me.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Rain bit her lip, glancing away.

“There are... There are just a lot of things we could talk about,” she whispered softly, “and I don’t know where to start.”

“Well you gotta start somewhere,” Arvel replied.

Rain said nothing.

“Is this about me sayin’ I love Fidget?” he asked, “And Lunette?”

“No!” Rain replied, looking up at him, before looking back down, her cheeks burning again, “No, n-not exactly...”

Arvel lifted a hand to touch her chin, and gently tilted her head back up to make her look him in the eye, and asked, “Is this about me sayin’ I love you?”

Rain’s eyes widened, shocked that he would simply come out and say it.

“I didn’t say it on a whim,” he whispered.

Rain glanced away, squirming against the post, and said quietly, “...’for some reason’...”

“I didn’t say ‘for some reason’,” he said, “I’m pretty sure I said ‘in spite of everything’.”

“That’s worse!” she replied, looking up at him sharply.

“The hell it ain’t!” he replied, his shoulders stiffening, “Ya say ‘for some reason’ when ya don’t know a good reason. Ya say ‘in spite of everything’ when ya know all the good reasons ya shouldn’t but ya do anyway.”

“How is that not worse?!” Rain asked.

“It just ain’t!” Arvel replied, pushing off the post and stepping back, reaching behind his head to rub the back of his neck, “You got to be the most infuriatin’ woman...”

“I’m infuriating?!” she asked, balling her hands up into fists.

“Don’t act like yer hard of hearin’!” Arvel replied, folding his arms across his chest.

“Lady Deleraine!” a voice called from beyond the laundry lines, “Mr. Arvel!”

“Freddy?” Arvel asked, looking toward the sound and lifting an eyebrow.

Frederik nearly tangled himself in a flapping curtain as he rounded the end of the laundry line, panting to catch his breath.

“Th-There’s... There’s a... That woman is... there’s...”

“Slow down,” Arvel said, “Catch your breath ‘n put one word in front of the other! Tryin’ to say em all at once don’t help nobody.”

Frederik slumped forward, resting his hands on his knees, before he slowly lifted his head and said, “There’s a strange woman on the west side of town. I think... I think it’s her.”

Frederik’s panic hadn’t spread to the rest of the settlement. People were going about their daily lives like usual, and Arvel and Rain did their best not to raise any alarms, walking quickly but calmly down the street toward the western side. There was one unoccupied house there, just off the gravel road; its owner had lost his life in the final demon attack, and there had been some talk of using it as a community pantry, but they didn’t have anything to store in it just yet.

As Arvel and Rain approached, they saw a thin stream of smoke rising from the chimney, and a woman outside of the house sweeping dirt from the stepping stones that led to her door. As soon as they saw her, both of them froze on the edge of the road.

She was a beautiful woman with fair skin, dark hair, and deep amethyst eyes. She was like no one else in the village, but they had both seen her clearly before.

“M-Melodia,” Rain whispered, clutching Arvel’s arm tight.

Arvel clenched his fists, and began to walk toward her.

“What th’hell are you doin’ here?” Arvel asked, his eyes narrow.

Melodia paused, and turned to set her broom against the doorframe, before giving Arvel and Rain a small smile, and said, “I believe I was sweeping.”

“You know that ain’t what I meant,” said Arvel, one hand hovering near the hilt of his sword.

Melodia nodded a bit, looking down at that sword at his side, before she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, and a soft exhale, before saying, “You told me that your lady knight’s only ‘purpose’ was to live. It was something she seemed to feel quite strongly about. In our discussions, she tried against all hope to convince me that a human life held meaning simply by being lived.”

“And?” Arvel asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion; “What about it?”

Melodia opened her eyes half-lidded, glancing from beneath her dark lashes as she said, “I want to try it.”

“Try it?” Rain asked, brow furrowed.

“Living,” she replied, “I want to try ‘living an ordinary life’. If it’s so precious to you, I want to know what it’s like.”

Arvel’s eyes widened, his hair standing on end, as he asked, “Do you think you just get to waltz in here like nothin’ happened and—”

“Arvel,” Rain interrupted, squeezing his arm, “Maybe we should carry on this conversation inside...”

He looked around, and realized a few of the townsfolk had taken note of him beginning to raise his voice. Arvel gave them a small grin and a wave, before Rain began to tug him toward the small house.

The inside was austere. There was a bed made of straw, a few cooking utensils by the small hearth, and a table made of a few planks across two barrels, with one wooden stool on either side. Rain and Melodia sat, but Arvel insisted on standing behind Rain, his arms folded.

“I’m afraid I have no tea or refreshments to offer,” Melodia said as she sat, smoothing the wrinkles from her apron and skirt on her lap; “I’m not sure I’d even know how to make tea yet.”

“We’re alone now,” Arvel said, “You can drop the illusion.”

Melodia smiled softly at him.

Rain squinted as the image of Melodia blurred and distorted before her. She blinked, and rubbed at her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were sitting across from a demoness. She seemed somehow less intimidating than before; her enormous raven wings were smaller, now a cherub-like set resting on her back, and the imposing crown of her horns had shrunk to a smaller pair that framed her head like a circlet. Her claws were more like ordinary human hands, though her long, glossy black fingernails still seemed as though they could strip flesh from bone if she tried.

“Better?” Melodia asked.

“No,” Arvel said, “We’re still a long way from ‘better’.”