Ariya looked around with a twinkle in her eye as they entered their first village in the Elzen Valley, as she often did on reaching any new settlement. Lusya did not know why. When it came to major cities, she could understand why one might be interested, even if the extent of it often baffled her, but this was a drop in the sea of small towns and villages they had visited over almost seven months. Few had anything that made them stand out. Few enough that anticipating it seemed a waste of energy.
This one was no different. The same squat buildings, the same thatch roofs, the same empty space. There was just one thing a little different than usual, and it was not a positive change.
“What do you expect to see?” Lusya asked, though she kept her guard up. She could see the way the villagers looked at them. Most would just look, but it only took one brave fool to cause trouble.
“I don’t know,” Ariya said cheerfully. “It’s just always interesting, I guess, seeing how all the villages are different.”
“Most of them are the same in every way that matters,” Lusya replied.
Ariya shook her head. “You just think that ‘cause you hate people.” That was not strictly true, but Lusya did not care enough to correct it. “They are a lot alike, but people always act just a little bit different.” Ariya frowned as she looked about, just now seeming to notice. “Or a lot different.”
The villagers walking by or standing outside their homes glared at Lusya and Ariya with the same mix of anger and fear one might direct at a venomous pest, muttering to any companions in furtive tones. And there were plenty of villagers, at least for the size of place. It was late enough in the evening that many had stopped working for the day, but early enough that they were still out and about, socializing or running errands. It was not uncommon for Lusya and Ariya to attract attention, of course. Lusya alone attracted plenty. Putting her in an unusual pairing amplified it. The hostility, however, was unusual. No one had paid them much mind in Zentril, but, although it was quite close on the map, this was a far cry from Zentril. There, even those who had regarded them with suspicion had done so with less, tempered by the knowledge that there were stranger things in the city. As far as they could tell by sight, anyway.
Even in other, similar villages, the stares were more curious than hostile. At worst, they were a little suspicious. This level of apparent aggression was unusual, to say the least.
“Pay them no mind,” Lusya said. “They are not a threat.”
“Don’t hurt them,” Ariya whispered.
“Unless they act first, I will not.”
Ariya nodded. She looked up and examined Lusya’s face for a moment before nodding to herself and turning forward once more. Lusya was not sure where the concern came from. She thought it quite well-established that she did not go out of her way to harm those who did not provoke her. Even those who did were often fine, so long as they did not actually inconvenience her. Especially with Ariya herself present. She may have proven able to tolerate a bit of violence, but Lusya was not eager to expose her to more.
Lusya led the way through the village. Considering the villagers’ hostility, she decided to find the inn herself rather than ask around. She doubted she would get any helpful answers. The village was not large, and it did not take much searching to get to the inn. It was about ten minutes before Lusya led Ariya through the doors of the Elhend Inn. Elhend was the name of the village. Creativity was not the innkeeper’s strong suit, though she supposed there was little need for the only inn in the village to differentiate itself.
They approached the counter where the innkeeper, a stout older man, stood, humming a tune to himself. He was gruff but civil as Lusya paid for their room and meals, then he directed them to sit where they pleased before disappearing through the door behind him.
Lusya selected a table at random and sat across from Ariya. The surface of the table was chipped, and there was an indent on the side where a sizable bit of damage had been done at some point. All the tables were like that, along with the bar counter. The floor had seen better days too, and the walls could have used a fresh coat of paint. It was not enough to be concerning, but the inn was not in the best of shape. That wasn’t strange, all things considered. The Elzen Valley saw less travel than most rural areas. Establishments like this had to survive on a handful of local regulars, like the ones there right now. This was fairly normal for an inn that was making it but not thriving. It was the last one that had been the anomaly.
There were two other groups in the dining room at present, both all men. One group shot a series of glares at Lusya, but seemed to lose interest a moment later and continued drinking from their mugs in silence. There was a mountain of empty mugs on their table, but no sign of food.
The other would not stop staring from across the dining room. They had been speaking over drinks and a big bowl of something fried when Lusya had entered, gossiping from what she had heard. Apparently, a conflict over the village’s most eligible bachelor had been resolved when he had jokingly suggested the two women vying for his affection share and they had agreed. This sounded like a satisfactory resolution for all involved to Lusya, but it was a bad thing, according to the men. Polygamy was frowned upon in most of Ysuge for reasons she did not pretend to understand. If all involved were informed and agreed, she failed to see any possible harm.
Since she had sat down, though, the men were silent as they watched her, save for some loud crunching as they finished their last bite of the fried snack they were sharing. It was her they were watching. Their gazes did wander to Ariya on occasion, but only for the briefest of moments before returning to Lusya. Of course, she would be the target of suspicion. Their imaginations were likely running wild and taking them far closer to the truth than they could ever know.
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“Is that what I think it is?” one of the men said at last. His voice was low as he leaned toward his companions, but the room was small enough that his voice carried plenty well to Lusya’s ears. He was one of three older men in the group, looking about fifty years of age with thinning brown hair. She did not think he was letting her hear intentionally. It seemed to be a combination of the room’s size and a naturally loud voice.
“We can’t read your mind, old man,” the sole younger man in his twenties said. Perhaps realizing the other man was easily audible, this one made no attempt to lower his voice.
“You know what he means, boy,” another man said. He, too, looked to be in his fifties, but still had a full head of pale blond hair. “A demon just walked in here. I’d heard rumors about them in the area, but never thought one would show up here.”
“If she were a demon, we’d be dead,” the third older man, this one bald, said with a roll of his eyes. “They don’t just waltz into town and sleep at the inn.”
Some would have. Plenty of high-ranks had the restraint to pick and choose their targets, at the very least. Even some of those who didn’t might have found it amusing to play at being an ordinary traveler before striking. Lusya chose to keep that information to herself.
The younger man nodded. “Right. She’s gotta be a reltus.”
The blond old man scoffed. “Same thing.”
The younger man gasped. “Pa!”
“What? We were all thinking it!” He spread his arms wide and looked to the other two to emphasize his point. They both averted their eyes, apparently unwilling to agree with or reproach him. He didn’t seem to notice, crossing his arms and indignantly turning up his nose as if his point had been made. “Can’t say anything these days…”
“Demon or not, can’t say I’d mind that being that last thing I see, though,” the brown-haired man said.
The bald man chuckled. “Don’t let Gertra hear you say that.”
The brown-haired man grinned and seemed about to retort, but stopped and looked to Ariya with a frown. “What do you want, girl?”
Ariya was scowling at the men. She had been throughout their conversation. The conversation did not bother Lusya much, but she would allow Ariya her own opinion. There was no reaction of note in her Malice, so it was fine.
“Didn’t your mamas ever teach you it’s rude to talk about people like that?” she asked, puffing herself up as she planted her hands on her hips.
Each of them men had their own reaction to that. The young man laughed, the bald one snorted, the brown-haired one frowned and looked away—seeming properly chastised with his reddening cheeks—and the blond grumbled something unintelligible before chugging down the rest of his drink and screaming for a new one. The men went silent for another moment, then resumed their earlier conversation.
“So, anyway, sounds like the plan is for one big wedding,” the blond said.
“And one big wedding night, I’d assume,” the brown-haired one said. “Lucky bastard.”
The bald man scowled. “Watch it.”
The innkeeper emerged a moment later with food for Lusya and Ariya, as well as the drink the blond man had requested. Lusya thanked him, and he responded with a grunt and retreated to the counter. He didn’t seem to have any staff, or none working at the moment, at least.
“They’re mean here,” Ariya said, keeping her voice too quiet for others to hear. Whether she was blind to her hypocrisy or did not care, Lusya did not know.
“Indeed,” Lusya replied.
Ariya jabbed a fork into a piece of meat and chewed it with unusual aggression. “I liked Zentril better. People didn’t even stare there most of the time.”
“I would have expected you to be acclimated to the stares by now,” Lusya said. She took a bite of her own meal. It was bland, but that was fine. She had never been a picky eater. Her preferences were not strong enough for it.
“I am. But not having them is still better.”
Lusya nodded. “Fair enough, but there is little to be done about it.”
“People could just not be mean,” Ariya said in a bitter, almost petulant tone. “You know, like in Zentril.”
“Their environments differ too much,” Lusya said. “Zentril has long had all manner of travelers passing through, and now as many different kinds of people living there. A resident must adapt to them to live. The same cannot be said for this village. They may never have seen a reltus before.”
She could not say she understood the tendency of others to fear and attack the unfamiliar, but she was aware of it. Some degree of caution was justified, even wise. Fear and hostility seemed not only excessive but foolish. It might well earn the animosity of one who otherwise would have left them be or even been an ally. She had known demons who would have left them in peace, only to kill them all when met with such reactions on principle. That was an extreme example, but the idea seemed broadly applicable.
Ariya gave a skeptical grunt and resumed her eating.
Her skepticism did not change the truth. The Elzen Valley did not see many travelers, and those it did were likely to be human. Maybe tiransa. She had heard it was growing in popularity, but it had a long way to go. The valley was known for its so-called natural beauty, and that did draw some visitors. In practical terms, however, the only reason one would pass through was the same reason Lusya was: to avoid reltus lands, something many humans did out of ignorance, superstition, or to avoid heightened linguistic or cultural barriers, real or perceived.
Otherwise, the valley was seldom the quickest or easiest route to get anywhere. Even those who did travel through would tend to be in a hurry because of that. The people here were not used to outsiders, let alone relti.
Of course, there was a certain irony in the people’s suspicion and the men’s reasoning. After thinking on it for a moment, Lusya decided she found it humorous.
“Did something good happen?” Ariya asked.
“I will explain later,” Lusya replied. She could not very well talk about it where others might hear.
“Okay.” Ariya took another bite of her hash and scowled, tilting her head just a bit. “The food here sucks.”
“It is sufficient,” Lusya said, though she would not dispute that it was a step down from the last several establishments they had visited.
She cast a suspicious, side-eyed glance at the innkeeper. “I wonder if he made it bad on purpose for us.”
“Nah,” the young man from the other table said. “Kenner just couldn’t cook worth a damn if Telresen showed him how.”
He said that last bit extra loud, ensuring the innkeeper, presumably Kenner, heard him.
The innkeeper scowled. “Travelers are one thing, you can stay home if you don’t like it.”
“But then we’d miss your lovely company,” the brown-haired man said with a grin. The others laughed, and they all took a swig of their drinks. Even the innkeeper himself replied with a brief chuckle.
Lusya did not find that comment humorous. Ariya, it seemed, disagreed, if her giggling was any indication. She took another bite, and her laughter was abruptly halted by a grimace.
“It still sucks, though.”