“You trust her,” the Chronicler said as she put her tea cup down.

“I shouldn’t,” I said.

“She’ll earn it,” she said with a nod full of confidence.

Wanting to groan at her statement, I chose instead to put the book down on to the armrest of my chair. I hadn’t read a single word let alone a page in several minutes, and I was tired of pretending to try. “What do you want from me? Do you want me to take her somewhere?” I asked her accusingly.

“What do you want from her, Vim?” the chronicler asked me.

Shaking my head at her, I wondered why I even bothered talking to her sometimes. And Renn said that I spoke in riddles.

The person in question wasn’t here. Renn had wanted to go and watch the blessing prayer for the new year. Although a little worried about her… I knew I couldn’t keep an eye on her forever. I wanted her to choose this place as her home, which meant she needed to be able to live here alone without me. Plus I had asked Jelti to keep an eye on her.

“Don’t avoid my question,” the chronicler chided me.

“I wasn’t. I was thinking about it. I want her to stay here, and work with you and the rest. I think she’ll be a good fit. She seems to like your stupid faith,” I said.

The chronicler moved her head, and I knew she was glaring at me… even if it didn’t show in her eyes or on her face.

“So I want her to stay here. To become one of you or something like it. She’s smart enough to be able to, plus although she’s not as in love with humans as I had first assumed she’s more than fine with living amongst them,” I explained.

“I see. So you want her here so you can see her as often as you can, is it?” she asked me.

The book that I had put down fell to my lap, and I did my best to not cough or growl as I picked it back up. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I told her.

For a long moment the chronicler stared at me, or at least at whatever she thought she saw while looking at me.

I stood and walked over to the small shelf. I put the book back in its place as I tried to make sense of this conversation.

We weren’t in her usual room. We were in the small loft that could be found above it. The room was a little bigger than her office, but only because her office had rows of shelves and this one didn’t.

“The war you fear is coming,” she said.

“I don’t need your eyes to see that,” I said, and although hated this topic too I found it more favorable than the last.

“Yet you want to hear it all the same, don’t you?” she asked with a chuckle.

Did I?

I tapped one of the oldest books in the world with a gentle finger. The binding of the spine felt rigid, as if as hard as a rock.

“Renn wishes to be like you,” the chronicler said.

My tapping came to an abrupt stop. “I thought we were talking about the war,” I said.

“You hate talking about that. Plus she’s much more important,” she said.

“Is she now?” I asked her. Maybe there was a reason she was being so weird about her. Usually the chronicler was more like me—indifferent to those who no longer needed help. Maybe she wasn’t just teasing me through her, but knew something about Renn that I didn’t… or knew what was going to happen because of her.

“The harder you try to push her away, the stronger your grip will become,” she warned.

I turned away from the small bookshelf and frowned at the woman who could see things even I couldn’t. “Do explain,” I ordered.

She frowned but nodded. “Haven’t you tried already? Or do my eyes deceive me?” she asked.

Hesitating, I wondered if I should nod or not.

Had I tried?

For a small moment I thought of my recent months. Meeting her. Helping Lomi. The burning of the paintings. The trip here.

Yes. There were a few times I tried to ignore her, but other than the moments at Twin Hills and our return to Ruvindale I had never actually wished her gone…

“You wanted to kill her originally, didn’t you?” the chronicler asked.

“I did. But that was before I had read the letters, or found out the truth. It had simply been a moment of anger,” I said. I stepped back towards my chair as I spoke.

“Funny, since I saw you kill her several times,” she said.

Pausing before the chair, I hesitated. “You did?” I asked.

She nodded, and I hoped that she had only seen what could have been and not was to be.

I’d kill her if I needed to… but now…

“Do not worry; her blood will not stain your hands. At least not for as long as I can see,” she said.

I hid my relief as I sat back down. “I’m beginning to dislike you,” I told her.

The chronicler laughed, her old body jiggled in glee. “Good!” she said.

While I shook my head, I felt as if my head should be hurting. It didn’t of course, but it felt like it should.

“Will you teach her?” I asked her.

“To earn your hatred? I don’t think I could even if I tried,” she said, still enjoying the moment.

“I’m being serious,” I complained.

“As am I!”

Taking a deep breath I sat back and did my best to not get upset. I really wasn’t in the mood for this. I didn’t even want to be here as it was, I wanted to leave.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“And no. I will not,” the chronicler then annoyed me even more by denying my request.

“And why not?” I asked.

“Because I’ll not have the time? You two will be leaving soon after the festival, after all,” she said as if it was a matter of fact.

For a small moment I glared at her, and then sighed as I decided to just drop it.

She wasn’t going to give me a straight answer. Which meant she saw something. Something that she feared if she spoke about, even to me, it might change the result of fate.

Which meant there was no point in continuing to either worry about it, or complain.

“Don’t look so defeated, protector,” she teased me.

“Why not? It’s what I am,” I said.

She scoffed at me and shook her head. “With the war, another prophecy,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow and wondered which one she spoke of. “The war in the south or…?”

“No. The one to come.”

“Wonderful. At least something is progressing, if not my own,” I said.

“This one will reach even here. I worry for our weaker members,” the chronicler said.

“All of our members are weak.”

She smiled and nodded, agreeing with me full-heartedly.

“Disease is coming as well. It’s already appeared in the west,” she warned.

“What kind?” I asked.

“The kind that kills even the strong. I fear it will kill many before it passes,” she said with a pained voice.

I frowned and wondered if it was a plague. If so, then…

“It’s time the humans died off a little,” I said as I thought about it.

“Heaven forgive him,” the chronicler made a small prayer as she brushed away my comment.

“Speaking of your heaven, has someone new appeared in this church? Your clergy has suddenly become very generous,” I asked.

“Nay. A disciple of mine, a woman I’ve raised, has simply gained her rightful position. We will be safer for some time yet thanks to her efforts,” she said proudly.

I noted she didn’t tell me her name, or her position. Probably afraid I’d scare her away.

“Will I get to meet this one?” I asked her. She hadn’t let me meet the last two.

“Not willingly,” she said simply.

“I don’t hate all churchmen you know,” I admitted.

“You don’t. But all of them hate you,” she also admitted.

“Hmph.”

“You're part of that prophecy, by the way,” she changed topics, most likely on purpose.

“That’s nice,” I said.

“Don’t you want to hear it?” she asked.

“No.”

She sighed, and I knew I had upset her. Although she had brought it up to keep me away from her new disciple, she had also been serious in wanting to tell me it.

“Fine. I’ll just tell it to your new companion,” she then said.

“That’s impossible… she’s not part of any of them,” I said.

“Neither were you in the beginning,” she rebutted.

“Well…” I paused and realized she was right.

She giggled, pleased with herself.

“I’ll be useless if she breaks me,” I whispered.

“Then don’t let her break you,” she said plainly.

“Easy to say,” I said.

“I know no man stronger than you, Vim.”

I shook my head. “I’ve met countless.”

“Stronger of arms, maybe. But not of what is found deeper,” she said.

Standing from my seat, I felt anxious as I went to pacing. The chronicler didn’t even look at me as I glanced at the nearby window. The one that overlooked the mansio Renn and I were staying at.

“Our society will be fine, Vim. We lose some, and then gain others. Have you not ever wondered how they just… simply appear? Like your new companion. Out of nowhere, yet she appears,” the chronicler said with a voice of awe. I knew she was alluding to her deity.

“Droplets amongst a storm,” I said as I stepped away from the window, and paced back towards her.

“She’s a fair more than a simple drop of rain,” she teased me.

I couldn’t help it, I smiled at that.

“You know she thinks she’s ugly?” I asked her.

The chronicler shifted in her seat, and had obviously not expected such a thing. “Renn?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Hm… something tells me that’s your fault. Has she tried crawling in your bed and you’ve kicked her out of it, or something?” she asked.

My feet came to a stop. How the hell had she came to the same conclusion as me so quickly?

The chronicler laughed. “Indeed!” she saw the truth.

“She hasn’t… not like that. To that level. At least not yet,” I said, and hated how easily I could see it happening. Even last night… though…

I was glad I had lain down with her last night. The poor woman had an actual panic attack last night.

I wasn’t sure what had happened with her brother, but whatever had happened must have left quite a traumatic scar within her.

“At least you admit she has affection for you,” the chronicler said with a nod.

“That will pass in time. I’m… amusing, to our kind. Upon our first meeting,” I reasoned.

“Really Vim…” she sighed and shook her head.

I didn’t try to argue with her. I knew this for a fact, after all. How many of our kind did she think I knew? How many women? Had she any idea how many I had saved? From not just death, but fates much worse?

It was a miracle I wasn’t a philanderer.

I turned around and returned to the window. I didn’t like how antsy I felt.

Reaching the window, I studied the house again. It looked the same as it had for years.

“This prophecy… does it relate to the disease?” I asked her.

“Time will tell,” she answered.

That was a maybe. A hard maybe.

Great. Although I didn’t need to fear disease or pestilence, many of our members did. In fact, most of our members who were basically immortal had only such things as those to fear.

Disease and swords. Fire and iron.

“And the…” I started to ask my next question, but noticed something near the house.

Barely visible at this angle, was a plain clothed Renn. She was hurrying to the house, carrying a wooden box.

Most likely the gift given out during today’s sermon.

Studying her as she went to the house, she had to put the box down as to open the door. Once the door was open she turned to look around, and I was able to make out the happy smile on her face.

She was enjoying life.

“Ah… look at that,” the chronicler’s voice pierced my ears, even though she had whispered them.

Turning around to look at her, I studied the white orbs. They were piercing into me even farther than her words had done.

“Where’s the pigeon?” I asked her, before she could say anything about me.

“He is on a boat. He’ll be back in a few weeks, after you leave,” she said.

“Where’d he go?” I asked. A boat? That far? Maybe the lake beds to the south?

“On a date.”

“Date…?” I stepped towards her and wondered what the heck she was talking about. That man? On a date? That far away?

“He’s fallen for a young sailor,” she told me.

I sighed and shook my head. “Of course he has.”

“Seems everyone has been falling lately,” she happily said.

“Falling into insanity, maybe,” I agreed.

Stepping towards the door, I decided it was time I left. And not just because Renn was back. Definitely not.

“Dinner.” Stopping before the door, I glanced back at the chronicler. She nodded. “Tonight. Bring her,” she said… or more like, ordered.

“If I can suffer it.”