"Lady Anise, I told you to not open the door." Bolverk chided with furrowed brows as he wiped dried vomit from Lady Anise's lips with the sleeve of his robe. He scrunched up his face, "Reaffirming it, you would have done so regardless of warnings. A blessing I rushed back as quick as I could."

Anise was hunched over on her knees, spittle of vomit clung to the corners of her lips. The pretty face of hers has gone ashen like ivory or the faded hides of elephants, and her blue veins casted a sickly contrast with her pale flesh

She was petrified, as if truly turned into stone. Her nails grasped at the earth, partly scrambling through the dirt for warmth, but ultimately stopping from the terrible cold and from the pain of flesh striking the harden earth. An eye was opened large and round in fright, unable to close lest the horror haunts her closed eye; the other eye was a sliver of faded pale green, jaded and washed, and in want of closing her vision from the world. However, she was trapped between cowardice and courage—she was trapped in indecision—and her chest heaved from both excess of air and lack of it.

When Anise fully came to her senses, she was lying on Bolverk's bed. Bolverk was at his workstation crushing herbs. The room became bloated from an ocean of mint, basil, lavender, rosemary, lemongrass, and other scents. It was as if the terrible odors of decay was never drowning the room just moments ago.

Anise sat up and pulled the blanket closer to her chest, and, with tear droplets forming in her eyes, she cried, "Boo, you beast! Scoundrel! Rapist!"

Bolverk with a wry and exasperated laugh replied, "Lady Anise, is it in your blood to always tease me at every opportunity presented?"

Anise tilted her head to one side and wiped off her fake tears, and she said, "Of course. It is the most entertaining activity in the world. Besides, when else would I be able to put to use my crying skills."

Bolverk smiled at her while not truly smiling. "For when your future husband, the next baron, bullies you, Lady Anise. All men are weak to a woman's tears, so that is when you must cry. However, if one has seen a woman cry often, then he would not be fazed—like I to you, Lady Anise of the Chicks."

"Oh, be quiet, you pleb! We were both little, and you were even older than me—yet! you cried louder than me at every fright, from bugs to mutts." The noble shouted with reddened cheeks. She frowned. "Boo, must I marry him?"

"You must." He answered while turning back to his work. "It is the baron's command, so it is your duty to obey, Lady Anise."

Anise sighed. "Boo, I am a lady, correct?"

"Yes. Since your mother earned the title four or five winters ago." The sound of clacking filled the empty room again.

"I am your lady, correct?" Anise asked, gazing at the scholar's back.

"Yes. As my father before me, I swore to serve your blood—not the Din'ae nor any other Tan'ae. The humble house of Yam has always served and will continue to serve the Second Sons of Din'ae and their family. That is our blood oath." Bolverk whispered the last words softly, as if they were so sacred that to speak them loudly would shatter the words, and as though Bolverk wish he did not have to speak those words.

Anise buried her head into the blanket and asked, "Then why have you left me and mother when we became nobility and acquired a mansion? Why have you gone and not visit—not even on your lady's birthdays? Today is the first we have seen one another in a long time, so why must you call me Lady Anise, instead of Ane?"

Bolverk smiled sadly and his heart became heavy, "It is because you are my lady. To move to the wilds so that I may best study herbs and anatomy is the best I can do to hope to serve you. Afterall, so cursed I am with the sword that I would cut my own arm off before I do the enemy's, so I cannot protect you in the same manner like my father, and once you marry into the baron's family you shall have an army to guard you. Becoming a learned scholar and a medicine worker is the best I can do. If Audny above favors me, perhaps chamberlain is not too far off a dream."

"Even so, can you not call me Lady Anise like a mere stranger when we are in private?" Anise said with a bitter expression, almost as if she held herself back with utmost effort from screaming. "Are we not friends?"

Bolverk stopped mashing his herbs. He squeezed the mortar tightly, a frown on his face. "It is because we are in private that I must refrain. However, I shall always serve you, Lady Anise."

The lady slammed her fists onto the bed in frustration. "So be it then."

"So, how long was I out?" Anise asked sharply with a scowl on her face, looking out the window and seeing pale light.

"About half an hour. We have time," Bolverk said as he pulled a chair from the center table to the bed and sat down. "Lady Anise, you should stop."

Anise gnashed her teeth and said with an expression like cragged rocks, "Lady Anise this! Lady Anise that! Lady Anise, Lady Anise, stop what?"

"Stop your training. Stop looking for that man who saved us; you are promised to the baron's son. Accept that. Please. Listen to the words you told the twins: if you keep doing dangerous things, you will die. I do not want that; no one does. Why can you not understand?" Bolverk said with a scowl on his face.

"No," Anise yelled. "Why can you not understand? I am not training to chase after him. I am training to-"

"To protect the people? To save the world? To fight demons and monsters?" Bolverk breathed out. He looked at Anise and said coldly, "All I see in your eyes is lust—unbridled lust like that of a sow."

Anise slapped him. Erratic breaths left her like desperate laughter, and it left her bangs like frayed clothing. Bolverk's cheek began to bruise. Anise glared at him with struggled breathing. Bolverk massaged his cheek.

"You are afraid, Lady Anise." Bolverk said after a spell of silence which oppressed even the first chirps of the birds. "You are afraid of death. You are afraid of the dead. You are afraid to kill. Lady Anise, you are afraid."

Anise squeezed the blanket over her with a red face. "I am not afraid." Those words seem to clot her throat and make her unable to breathe. "I am the daughter of Tiresias Tan'ae. I have his blood. I have his brave blood."

Bolverk pulled her face to meet his black eyes. Anise found that her Boo's hands has grown since they last met: rugged, large enough to encase her very being. And he leaned in so close that their noses kissed.

"Lady Anise, you are afraid to the hilarious point that you lose control of your weak stomach when you see not even human corpses; even those of mere animals dissected in the back room causes you to become utterly petrified by fear and inability." Bolverk tightened his grip on Anise and he breathed into her ear, "How, then, are you going to slay monsters? Perhaps by feeding them your vomit instead of your flesh, you may even live to become a seed receptacle. Well, perhaps that is what you wish, my lady sow."

Anise slapped him again with such force that his head cracked to the side. Two streams flowed steady from her eyes. She tried to leave, but was pushed back by Bolverk. Her eyes widened from surprise.

"Lady Anise, did your many tutors not teach you not to stay alone with a man? Did they not teach you to respond when asked, Lady Anise? Are you going to answer this peasant's question, Lady Anise?" Bolverk breathed those words out while chaining his lady's hands to the bed. "How are you going to go out adventuring when you are so easily pinned down by me? How then are you going to go and pursue that hero who saved us years ago? Pray tell me? Perhaps with your sheer knowledge of bedroom matters? Ah, that must be it!"

Anise rammed her foot into Bolverk's innards. He was whacked once more. Anise looked at him with tears in her eyes and lips parted, heavy breathing coming through like storms. She kicked him once more and ran. The door slammed shut.

After Anise left Bolverk's cottage by the woods, she scrambled onto Solana in a flustered fashion. Solana gave a worried look at her mistress who tried desperately to pull back her tears. Anise rubbed Solana's mane. The mare settled back into her usual aloofness and the two headed west to the Ardin's capital, Bolsur. In only half an hour, the lady reached the city. It was on average an hour ride from the outskirt of the province to the capital.

It was a great city grown like a half moon with five layers. The outermost layer was the main residential layer with simple brick houses lived in by the middle class of craftsmen, artisans, and merchants. The next layer was laid like a labyrinth of streets and alleys with stalls, peddlers, and shops scattered throughout like seeds. The first and second layers were once an ocean of flora before the humans took it as their own. The third layer were the houses which once belonged to the fae These houses were made of wood as well, rather than the pricey granite of the residential district. The fourth layer was reserved for the nobles. This layer was like an intricate jewelry box: tall spruce rose high above the many willow, oaks, and mahogany which served as the actual houses; on the outskirts were spry willows, the older families resided in oaks, and the oldest lived in mahogany. And the last layer laid on the innermost part of the half-moon. It was where the baron lived, his great castle.

His castle was made not of marble or even of stone, and it certainly was not made of metal. It was alive. It was a wooden castle formed in a peculiar shape—as if it was a deformed and hollowed ancient oak. The shape was like the cascade of waves interweaved through many hills: some parts of it grew tall to the clouds like regular citadels and towers do, other parts of the castle arched like a leaf bearing water, touching the ground, and other parts spiraled as if unbound by all will but its own—to the skies or to the horizon expanding in all directions. This strange castle was even dressed in foliage of green, and at times of gold and scarlet, and, other times, of eerie black, which encircled the entire castle and never withered. This castle faced the east towards the border of the civilized world. What laid beyond was a desert to which the fae who built the city and all its great buildings were banished—exiled—after the Great War.

Anise glanced at the castle which casted shadows on the entire city. She felt a tightening of her chest because its leaves were turning black. The old wives who have lived for a long time often cooed that it was an omen. Though a disaster never struck before, a healthy chicken would die or an accident or a bout of madness in one of the men often would occur when the leaves turned black.

The young lady shook her head and climbed off Solana. The two walked quickly to the outskirts of the capital. As one approached the city, it became an intimidating sight with its tall wall and numerous sentries. The numerous farmers and merchants passing through the inspecting guards were accustomed to its power and had scowls from waiting. Anise, being the daughter of the former captain of the guards, knew her way around the wall. She avoided the main entrance until she came upon another part of the wall. It looked no different from the rest of the wall with its gray bricks stacked like the scales of dragons. However, Anise simply walked through it and she appeared on the other side behind an aged house. She told Solana to hurry back to her stables. Then she turned back to the magical wall.

She smiled fondly. She always did. It was how she and her father always snuck out of the city to skip work and pick fruit in the woods. Her father told her it was one of the many secrets left behind by the fae that he has discovered. The others was too dangerous and he always said he would reveal them when Anise came of age. She always felt a want to touch that part of the wall, but never do because her hand would simply slip right past it. However, today she placed her hand as near the illusionary wall as she possibly could.

"Papa," She told the wall. "I don't think I can come here everyday anymore. After all, your little girl is going to finally grow up in just a few days. I know I have been engaged for a couple winters now, but I am just realizing I am engaged. And I hate it. I want to punch a wall; I want to run away from it all; I want to be strong like you. I want to do so many, so many things—I simply do not know how. So many things are changing, and I do not understand." She retreated her hand and smiled sadly, and she massaged her wrists which still throbbed from when Boo pushed her down. "Papa, this was all because of Boo. I really hope my wrists do not bruise, else Aunt Elspeth is surely to kill me. I should have kicked him a lot harder than I did—and not just in the stomach! I would be a true Hero if I had ended the house of Yam once and for all. It really hurts, Papa."

Anise placed her hand on the "wall" one last time, gave it a parting glance, and walked to the front of the aged house. Instead of appearing wary and wistful, the house gave off a very cozy feeling from the miniature gardens planted in boxes hung from the many windows stained with dust and cracks. Without knocking, she entered.

"Did none taught ya how ta knock, girl? Always comin' so early like a farm boy!" A boice like wind beating against rock greeted her. The voice came from a shriveled hag with untidy locks. The hag had so many wrinkles it would seem she spent her entire life soaking in hot water.

Anise giggled. "You know you like me, Madame Rem."

"Do I now?" The hag spat the words out. She squinted at the young noble with her beady eyes. "Girl, why ya got yaself a pair of stained windows? Ya fine there; ya also got yaself a pair of red wrists."

Anise waved her hand and replied, "No, I am fine. Some dust got into my eyes while I was riding my mare."

"What 'bout that wrist of ya?" The crone pointed with her pipe.

Anise laughed. "Oh, this? Do you not know, Madame Rem? Redden wrists are a popular fad right now. It originated from Great Capital."

The hag took a drag of her pipe. "If ya be fine, then git ya clothes and git."

"Madame Rem, can't I stay for some lentil soup?" Anise begged with large puppy eyes.Madame Rem rapped her pipe against the arms of her rocking chair. "Oh, for ta love of ta gods! Ain't no one like no lentil soup! Or did eatin' lentil become ta new noble fad? Either way, I ain't gittin' off this chair to make no lentil soup."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Anise strolled over to the old crone and hugged her. She said to the hag, "Lentil soup is warm though. I like eating it with you around the hearth."

Madame Rem pushed Anise away with annoyance and the old hag pulled her lilac shawl over her face. The crone muttered angrily, "Ain't I tell ya a thousand times not ta hug me, girl? And all soup is warm! I'm startin' ta think ya be slow; either that or simply dull or stupid!"

Ignoring the old woman's intense protest, Anise hugged Madame Rem once more, burying her face into the crone's shawl. "Your lentil soup is really warm." She said.

"And I told ya, that I ain't like nobles huggin' me." Madame Rem muttered in annoyance. Nonetheless, the crone caressed the young lady's back, smoothing out Anise's hair.

After a moment, Madame Rem pulled Anise off of her and said angrily, "Ya stayed too long! If ya stay longer, I'mma sell ya into a brothel! Ain't I tell ya I hate ta stink of nobles? Git ya clothes, then git, ya hear? And, no, I ain't making no lentil soup no matter how many times ya ask me. I ain't even got no lentil."Anise smiled and then left for the madame's bedroom. The madame's bedroom was a dusty, dirty room. However, her dresser -- though one leg was broken and had to be propped up by a stone -- was made of mahogany and it was evident that beautiful designs once flitted across the wood. Underneath the dresser was a pile of books now eaten through by rats, time, and mildew.

Anise retrieved her regular clothes from the top drawer. She stripped and placed her adventuring clothes in exchange. Her hands lingered on the sword.Then she changed into her dress. It was in the form of a bellflower and with the color of water. A corset kept the waist slim to fit the dress (Anise pulled and fidgeted with the thing as always but gave up as always.) The bottom of the dress expanded and sloped gently. The many frills acted as a cascade of water down the dress (and hid the many unbecoming wrinkles and folds). Anise undid her braids so that her hair scattered about her like a wash of orange sunlight. To match, the young noble girl dabbed a mixture of crushed poppy and rose petals onto her cheeks. The resulting effect was that her childlike appearance vanished, replaced witha painting of a noble: glowing, poised, detached -- a goddess of the light among peasants.

Anise walked back into the main room. She twirled around.

"Yes, yes. Very pretty." The old hag said. Anise smiled and started for the door. Madame Rem held up her hand. "Wait. Stand in front of me so I can see ya. We need ta talk."

Anise obliged and walked in front of the old hag.

"When do ya plan on stoppin' comin' here," the crone said and took a deep drag of her pipe. "Ya 'bout ta git wed ain't ya?"

"Madame Rem, you know I want to be an adventurer."

The hag leaned back and said, "Girl, ya ain't ever tell me why?"

Anise smiled, "Why not?"

The hag puffed out smoke. "Girl, ya gotta stop comin' here."

"Why?"

Madame Rem followed the smoke wisps with her pipe like the whiskers of a cat. "Ya be wed to the baron's son. It's ya duty."

"I don't want to."

"It's ain't 'bout want. Ya to be wed."

Anise looked at the old woman. She spoke softly, "Then is it about honor, duty?"

The crone laughed madly. She slammed her pipe against the arm of her chair. "It's 'bout livin'." She growled and took another drag of her pipe. "Ya to come of age; the baron's idiot son lusts for ya—all is to it."

"I, I—" Anise tried to speak but could not find any words to say.

"Not another word out of ya," the hag said. "Girl, ya ain't strong. Maybe ya are dull or slow—why run from power, gold, and all them good things?"

"I'm not weak." Anise's voice caught in her throat. She pounded her fists against her thighs. She half-yelled, "I'm not weak." The girl's eyes widened; she slowly pulled her fists toward her chest and whispered once more, "I'm not weak".

Anise looked at Madame Rem who replied with silence; the girl stepped back and opened the door. She smiled wryly towards the old hag and said, "Madame Rem, I—I must take my leave now. I will see you tomorrow."

The door closed slowly and soon the room was dark, save for what little light streamed in through the many stained glass windows. Madame Rem coughed into her lilac shawl. She tilted her head back towards the ceiling. Red splotches painted the purple fabric."Stupid girl," the crone mumbled to herself groggily as she took another deep drag on her pipe.

Anise walked quickly through the empty streets. Husbands and wives were going about their days: shopping, making business deals, or any of the other hundred possibilities. The children were all confined in school inside the local parish which served as the border between the residential and commercial districts. Unlike the other buildings, the buildings of the parish were made of a strange white stones which stood out in complete darkness.

Anise glanced at the small corner of the two districts. She noted that the ground near the parish still laid burnt from when the original buildings were razed to make room for the Church of Aalok centuries ago. However, it was only around the parish that no plant grew. The rest of the two outermost districts hired peasants from the surrounding villages to weed and maintain the roads every few days. It was as if the plants could not bear the aura of the Church. Usually, the Church was also where the various other great establishments (such as the Convent or Merchants Guild) would be located; however, the land in which Anise resided was rather undeveloped due to the nature of the lingering fae magic which shrouds the entire capital.

She continued walking. The commercial district was a hub of ruckus, colors, smells, and more than a few brawls. Anise weaved through the crowd and through alleyways till she was in the third district.

The third district was reserved for the branch family of Din'ae, the Tan'ae. It was where the unwanted concubines wasted away in exile; it was where the irrelevant relatives toiled their days away; it was where the second sons spent their days, forever guarding the baron's ambitions, after they come of age; it was where those unlucky in past lives were sent after barely missing the silver spoon. It was a downtrodden place.However, the trees were not always rotten carcasses which seem to carry sickness down to its very roots: stunted, cramped, and damp. Once, when the humans first took the trees as their own, the trees were as beautiful as the trees in the second layer. It was where the fae danced and laughed, when fae lived life listlessly like the wind. It was beautiful then, and so the first Tan'ae, first captain of the guard, asked of the first baron for only this land. Yet, joy lasted as long as a breath. The Tan'ae eager to establish themselves in the new land planted many seeds looted from the fae and attempted the magic of the fae -- it exhausted both the land and the magic.

And the third layer quickly wasted away into a place where people resented all things, especially fate and of their own blood. It was a place full of cheap and eager labor to exploit: men who wish to earn fame as great knights in wars, only to be dead without burial; women who pretty themselves up, only to be thrown back to their hovel before the night's end; men who would wager savings in business ventures, only to be enslaved in debt. It was a place where only the second sons of the Din'ae could live decently since the second son was, in a sense, the head of the Tan'ae and was housed in the better trees with just a bit more room than all the other trees. Due to that reason, considerable amenity has fostered throughout the generations between the Tan'ae and the second sons, more so if the captain was incompetent or a coward.

So even as a child, Anise led her brethren to the other layers rather than stay choked in the unbearable atmosphere of the third layer. However, those children were now of age or close; some were dead; others were spending their nights in filthy beds; Anise was a noble. There were no memories or worth in lingering. Thus, Anise continued walking onwards to the second layer.

The second layer had a wall built long ago by the first families who took claim to the trees after the fae were exiled. It was a wall which block everything that was on the other side: the people's misfortune, the children's laughter, the cold wind, and the pale light. Despite it being the district of nobles, the buildings were not especially sprawling nor huge. After all, the houses were the trees and were only as huge as the age of the tree. Despite the many trees, fewer than ten houses lived in these trees. Nor did any try to grow additional structures, for the Tan'ae showed that fae magic was wild and delicate.

In the fae' golden age, each house was lived in by the oldest fae. They were rewarded these great trees because they had become "gǔ lāng-hún", of the old tree soul, whether through wisdom, luck, or cunning. The humans simply called them Fae'd, a portmanteau of "fae" and "old". And in those days before their exile, these trees were great centers of knowledge and social activity. Now, many of these trees served as extensions to be used as storage of waste.

Anise lived in a simple willow house. It was a house with hair which reached only its shoulders, and with a garden of emerald delicacies. It was one of the more simple and younger houses. The other houses varied in many designs. The most old of the houses were of great mahogany with a width of 50 burly men and a height which scraped the sky. Those houses even had rope systems to move from the top to the lower levels more easily. And the trees of oaks even had extensions to the trees: with wings, towers, and all sorts of structures perched on pillars with rope bridges connecting it all to the main tree. Those old houses were also beautifully carved with patterns of flowers, wolves, and hawks. The patterns seem to take flight or roar as branches swayed or light shimmered throughout the day. Each marking was an expression of the history of the Faeds who resided in the house before; these days, the markings are just markings: mere decorations of age and wealth.

Anise's house was a tree with little marking carved into its bark. Rather than symmetrical flowers or ardent goatheads, the willow bore swirls like simple vines. The vines did not bear even a dragonfly or simple bud. Every other willows displayed intricate markings: perhaps of the celestial night sky or of drifting clouds wanton. It was also a house with no more than 5 stories—the carvings did not even pass the very first level. Each level had a measurement of 2 men's height. Other willows had 10 or more. Anise's willow was only around 20 burly men's width.And the house was not gifted by the prior baron or the current baron in honor of Anise's father nor to gain the favor of Anise. It was earned, paid for through the efforts of Anise's mother. However, a commoner will be looked down upon even if she has made a name for herself, especially if she was a young widow, no matter if she was one of the wealthiest merchants in the surrounding provinces and held considerable influence.

"Ah, Lady Anise! Good morning to ya!" A squadron of guards greeted her.

"Lady Anise, how be your daily walk?" One of the patrolling guards asked. These guards did not wear heavy armor, rather they wore thick layers of cloth, similar to the fae. It was due to the uneven soil which the trees grew.

"Uncle Hans, could you call me Ane like you once did?" Anise asked with a frown, hands on her hips.

The patrolling guards laughed merrily. "No can do, my lady. After all, you are not only a noble, but to be wed to the next baron."

"It is the gods finally paying ya family back for taking away the captain so young. A great man and a hero of Ardin he truly was," exclaimed one of the older guards. "It would be great if ya sire many children and a second son who will be great like ya father was."

Anise grew hot in her face and slapped the older man's chest. The guards laughed with amusement.

One of them made a habitual motion to pat the girl's head but pulled back. Instead, all looked fondly at her like she was a precious treasure.

"To think, I once changed the next baron's wife's diapers when little." One of the guards guffawed.

"Aye! And to think I was the one she always ran to when she be frightened by the shadows of dancing flames." Another guard added, stroking his beard in nostalgia.Soon the streets became flooded with laughter as the guards retold stories of the young girl. Luckily, most rich nobles operated on a different schedule than commoners, and the streets held no people except the guards.

Anise pouted which made the guards coo in joy from the cuteness and youth. The young lady made small talk with the guards and then parted, reminding the guards as always to not tell her mother that she take early morning strolls.Anise circled the willow until she found her bedroom window. She did not enjoy living in the upper levels as the other nobles did. She snuck through the window with practiced motion.

Anise lived in a big room, far too big for one person she felt. There was room for a large bed, a dresser, a table, a cabinet, and a large mirror with distance to spare. Anise plopped herself back onto her bed with an assortment of cloth dolls. It was a very soft and fluffy bed. It was soft enough for the girl to fully sink into the mattress.She climbed into bed and fell asleep. She slept for the remaining time before her mother had to rise. Anise slept huddled inwards toward herself as her heart pained from the restless days her life has become.

Anise woke and rang the bell resting upon her bedside drawer. The bell signaled that the lady was awake and that breakfast should be prepared. Anise sighed and decided to properly speak to her mother about her future.

Author's Note: I feel this chapter is too long, but there's no good place to cut it into chunks. Maybe there is, but I probably wouldn't like cutting the chapter into smaller chapters. If you like this story, leaving feedback would be nice. Feedback would be nice; feels lonely without even a single hater bashing my work.