I was glad we were finally getting ready to leave, yet at the same time I was starting to fear what we’d find next.

Renn and Elisabell were on the other side of the courtyard, near the workshop. They were with Nasba and some of her children, readying the packs that I’d soon be securing to the horses we’d be taking northward.

Honestly this had gone better than it could have. The mercenaries had all been taken care of. We had found enough proof in the form of ledgers and letters to know that I’d likely gotten all of the ones here, and that they had yet to send any letters elsewhere about their intentions. We had found a short, simple, letter written by the captain here that they had intended to send north once the raid had been finished. It hadn’t mentioned the Weaver’s Hut, or its location, just that they planned to pillage a nearby community and meet their fellow in some baron’s territory in the north.

I planned to make a stop in that territory on the way back to Telmik. If their band was still there by then, which would likely be the middle of winter, I’d deal with them.

So the attackers were dealt with. Without casualties. Other than a broken window and some torn up beets in a small garden near the hill, from the horses trudging through them, there hadn’t been much damage. There’d been a few days’ worth of work and stress, I guess, but nothing drastic.

The only remaining issue, Elisabell, wasn’t an issue either.

She had calmed down and adapted quickly. Typical of a pagan woman in this era. She probably thought herself something of a slave now, and had almost completely adopted the roll. She followed Renn around dutifully, but wasn’t a walking depression. She was upbeat now, smiling and talking with everyone as if she had been a member all along.

Which was the main reason I was so worried.

Fate was doing its damnedest to make Renn get hurt. Lamp and her people. Those pirates. That young boy. Now this girl. And even before Lumen there had been others. Those female merchants we had traveled with for a short time, for example.

I’d not really noticed it much before, since stuff always happened during my travels… but it was now clear that there was something amiss.

Why was it always women and children? Why was it always people Renn pitied? Why did they always tug at her heartstrings without remorse?

How was I going to protect her from such things? I could be cruel… cruel enough to heartlessly slaughter those who were as much victims as not.

But could I be cruel enough to break Renn’s heart and soul?

Something told me I knew the answer already.

“Vim.”

I turned to the Weaver. She waved me into the building from a nearby window.

Glancing back at Renn and the girl, I narrowed my eyes at them and debated letting her out of my sight.

I’d not allowed it. The only moments since this all started that I’d allowed the human to leave my line of sight was when she bathed. And she had done so only with Renn, and I had made sure to stay near enough that I had been able to hear everything that had happened.

Sighing, I stepped away and went to enter the main building.

Once inside I quickly found the room that the Weaver was in. It was the one next to the large room where Nasba enjoyed giving lectures. I entered the room, and passed by one of Nann’s children as I did. I walked over to the window; the same one Nann had waved me in from, and once more put Renn and her human baggage in my field of view.

“Really Vim… not only is she likely not to do anything, I highly doubt Renn would allow it,” Nann said with a sigh.

“From your mouth to your dead god’s ears,” I said.

“Dead…?”

I turned and frowned at the young girl now staring at me with wide eyes.

Woops.

Nann sighed again, and stepped around the rack of clothes to look at me. “You’ll be headed to see Horn and his family after the Crypt right?” the Weaver asked.

I nodded.

“Good. I’ll send you with some nicer winter clothes. Knowing Horn they need it,” Nann said as she turned to the girl and pointed at the rack. “Pack all this as well, would you dear?” she asked the girl.

The girl nodded, but did so worriedly. She was still bothered by my earlier comment. She stepped up next to the rack, grabbed a few sets of the clothes hanging from it and then hurried out of the room.

“I’m only taking two horses. One’s the girl’s,” I reminded the Weaver.

“Says the man able to carry more than any horse could dream,” she said offhandedly as she stepped over to another rack.

Shaking my head at her I turned back to the window. I found Renn, then Elisabell. It was easy, they were right next to each other… like always. They were with the little girl who I had made that stuffed animal for. They were all kneeling around a box, rummaging amidst its contents.

“This is where you tell me that my worry is unfounded. That she’ll likely adapt and live the rest of her life in the Society. Joining it just like all the others who’ve done the same,” I said.

“One needs not know how to solve puzzles to answer that,” Nann said.

Right.

“If not her… what about Renn?” I asked.

“Hm… thus the reason I summoned you. I’d blame the human, but she’s impossible to separate from you even on a normal day,” Nann said with a small giggle.

Shifting, I wondered how true that statement was. I felt like Renn usually distanced herself from me when we were visiting others. She normally became friends with someone, or everyone, and spent more time with them than me. Merit in Lumen. Herra’s cousin at the armadillos. Riz at Secca, Landi, and so forth.

“Thank you for teaching her by the way. She vastly enjoyed it,” I said.

“Hmph. Regrettably not as well as I’d have liked. I’m not sure why, but she really struggles with sewing. Which is funny since she seems to have phenomenal hand-eye coordination, and her memory is sharper than any needle I can craft,” Nann said.

I nodded. I had only sat in on a few of Nann’s guidance lessons, as to let Elisabell spend time with Renn, but the few I’d been around for had told me the truth of the matter.

Renn was simply not very good at fashioning clothes. On any level. She was capable of making the basic stuff, but they were relatively shoddy. Prone to failure, or tearing.

As if she suddenly became stiff and uncoordinated the moment she sat down with a needle, or some other method to sew or fashion clothes.

“Might be internalized trauma,” I reasoned.

“Highly likely. I’ve heard she can paint rather well,” she said.

“She can.”

“Then it’s likely something from her youth. Time might fix it, though it could likely be fixed rather swiftly if you’d like to know a better method,” Nann said.

Glancing away from the window, I watched the young girl from earlier enter the room. She was accompanied by a couple other girls, who all went straight to the rack of clothes. They gathered up the remaining clothes hanging upon it, and hurried out of the room.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? You’d think our human members would fear you more than the ones more like us,” Nann said as the girls left.

I frowned. “Humans can’t usually comprehend me, or what I represent. So in my experience, no.”

Nann huffed at me. “Humans aren’t so simple minded as that Vim. Just because you’re currently annoyed with one in particular doesn’t mean you can generalize their whole race,” she said.

She got me there. I shifted and looked back out the window, to try and ignore Nann’s smirk.

Renn was now carrying the little girl. On her shoulders, giving her a piggy back ride. Elisabell was following after them, dutifully, while carrying the stuffed animal for the girl.

I smiled at the sight, especially so the way Renn was smiling.

Such a sight made me wish she had found someone, or somewhere, else. Something other than me.

She deserved to have every waking moment filled with such happiness and joy. To live somewhere that would enable her to be so happy every day, and maybe even one day be carrying around her own children in such a way.

Instead she was stuck with me. Constantly traveling around the world… hating every moment of it. Weeping instead of smiling.

“The one you’re so desperately protecting is as fragile as I’d assumed,” Nann then said.

My jaw clenched, and I realized this was also going to be a painful conversation for me. In more ways than one.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Oh, very.”

Great.

“I can’t know her heart, of course… I don’t know her whole story. What few pieces I’ve been able to gather have made me assume some things, and expect others. For that you can blame the human, if you’d like. I didn’t want to pry too much with her there. Out of courtesy.”

Thankful for the excuse, and permission, I went ahead and did so.

“Basically Vim, your lovely partner has endured heavy heartbreak. Several times, likely in quick succession. At least for our kind. I’ve known many others, many predators even, who have broken from less. I worry for her. If you keep her with you, over time she may either break completely or become numb. She may lose that strange gentleness that exudes from her, eroded away as the two of you continuously endure hardship,” Nann warned.

My shoulders lowered as I watched Renn carry the girl to the center garden's gazebo. To let the girl reach up and touch one of the hanging lamps upon it. Or at least, she tried to. Even while on Renn’s shoulders they were still too short to reach it.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“She chose this life. And I don’t think I can convince her away from it anymore,” I said softly.

“Can’t or won’t?” Nann asked me.

My eyes narrowed as Renn swapped with Elisabell. She gave her the girl, and took the stuffed animal. Thanks to the human being a little taller than Renn, the girl was now able to reach the lamp. She didn’t really grab it, and just touched it with a fingertip, but it had been enough to make her very happy.

“So…? What do you think I should do? Insulate her? Keep her at a distance? How? Whether I like it or not, events like this happen all the time. Most of the time they end far worse, too. And even if fate is kind, and I’m on my best guard, tragedy always inevitably strikes,” I said.

“I’m sorry Vim… I don’t have an answer for you. I wish I did,” Nann said softly.

Then what was the point in telling me what I already knew?

I blinked, and realized I had grown upset. I did my best to toss aside such an emotion. Not only was it misplaced anger… Nann did not deserve it to be directed at her or in her presence, even.

“She may be fine, Vim. If she’s survived all this, until now, she might be able to endure whatever may come… especially if you’re always there for her,” Nann added.

That’s just it. The longer this went on the more she’d rely on me. The more she’d make me her foundation.

Such a thing worked until it didn’t.

Such a thing worked until her heart couldn’t take it anymore.

I’d experienced such things before. I had seen it happen before.

Though in Celine’s case it had started before I had tried to make myself her anchor. She had grown tired. Too tired. The brunt and weight of that which she endured had crushed her… and by the time I had stepped in, to try and alleviate some of that burden from her…

It had already been too late.

Too little too late.

“If… if Renn does survive. One way or another. If she doesn’t break and crumble… where do you see her? In a few hundred years, for example?” I asked the Weaver.

“Other than right next to you?” Nann asked, and I heard the grin on her face.

I nodded, admitting I had set myself up for that one.

“Well… I suppose it depends on how many of us she forgives, and how many she won’t,” she said.

Frowning, I turned away from the window again. “Forgives?”

“Oh yes. She’s very upset. At all of us,” she said.

Renn was…? “You’re kidding me,” I said. Where was this coming from?

Renn? That girl? Hating the Society?

Disappointed, maybe, at best… but actual hate? Anger? I just couldn’t see it. She loved the Society. Its people. She pitied them… and those she pitied, she loved.

Right...?

“She does not like how we treat you. I’m not sure yet… what that means. Is she upset that we need you? Is it a selfish thing? Or are we not properly compensating you, in her view? Or is it something else entirely…? I don’t know. All I know for sure is that woman, for better or worse, feels we have slighted you. As a whole. As the Society. I don’t think she’s made a decision yet concerning it… but well… something tells me we’ll all know when she does,” Nann said as she crossed her arms and nodded.

I gulped at the heavy accusation, and shifted a little. “You’re serious,” I said.

She nodded again. “Very. Surely you’ve noticed it? Or has she said something about it? She doesn’t necessarily hate us as individuals… but there’s definitely some underlying issue in her eyes. She gets very annoyed, deep down, when such topics come up. For instance she watched you fix that window the other day, and one of my children made a small comment. They had simply joked that they wanted to ask you to fix something else in their house, since you were obviously so good at it. It was a simple comment one makes without thought, and with no ill meaning, yet Renn had taken offense,” Nann said.

“What’d she do?” I asked. Why hadn’t anyone said anything?

“Do? Nothing. One of her ears had simply fluttered a little. Barely noticeable. She had been in the middle of sewing something, and talking with my granddaughter. The one you gave that duck to,” Nann said with a wave.

Wait… “So her ear fluttered… after a comment from a passerby, and now you think she hates all of you,” I said.

“If you want to put it that way, sure,” Nann said.

I sighed and looked away from the Weaver. Not because I was upset with her, or not believing her… but rather the opposite.

I did believe her. Because I knew exactly what she was talking about.

Renn has indeed made many comments about that exact thing. Sometimes she said so under her breath. Other times she did so vocally, loudly.

She didn’t appreciate how the Society treated me at all. At least from her perspective.

“Do… do you think it’s a woman thing?” I asked carefully.

“Woman thing?” Nann asked back, and I noted the annoyance in her voice. She hadn’t liked how I had phrased it.

I shook my head. “Possessiveness. Is it sourced from a desire to keep me all to herself?” I asked.

Nann sighed at me. “Men are just as possessive, Vim. And I don’t know. It could be. I don’t think it is, not just because I don’t want to think that Renn is that simple… but look at her. She’s more than happy with what you do. She was very happy you made that stuffed animal. She likes to hear us tease you, and tell stories of you. If this emotion, or whatever it is, is sourced from her desire to keep her to herself I wouldn’t see her doing such things. The people I’ve known to act so possessive usually didn’t want to share in any way at all, not even simple memories,” Nann said.

Right… Renn did enjoy it when I did things she deemed gentle or kind. She absolutely adored it when I did something simple for the Society, like helping out in little ways. As weird as it was to say, and admit it, my penchant of going out of my way to help the Society even in the little ways, like fixing a broken window, was something Renn found immensely attractive. So for her to have gotten annoyed over that very thing, meant Nann was right. She didn't mind me helping... she didn't mind sharing me... she disliked not the request, but either the individual or the method of their asking of it.

She enjoyed the little things too much to hate them. Such little things were likely what had drawn Renn’s eyes in the first place. The way she had watched me hold Lomi as she slept, running from nightmares, had as I told Nann and Nasba, been the origin of her fascination with me.

“Honestly Vim it could just be a cat thing. Aren’t cats known for latching onto a singular person?” Nann suggested.

“Yes. Most animals do,” I said.

Nann huffed, since she knew I had just tried to include her in that statement.

Well… I wasn’t wrong. Even if Nann would never admit it.

She loved her family… but there was no denying the only person she ever truly loved was her husband. The love she felt for her descendants was simply the love that spilled over. She loved them because they existed thanks to him. That was it.

I’d never voice such a thing aloud though.

I blinked as I realized that was a good example.

Renn was a little different. She would likely love her children something fierce. And it wouldn’t be just because they were of my blood.

Frowning, I wondered if maybe that was the solution to this supposed fragile heart of hers.

I tossed the idea out of my head the moment it sprouted, mostly since I wasn’t sure how to address the main problem of it.

If I wasn’t able to have children with non-humans, how could I fix that in the first place?

Plus bringing a child into this world just because I worried for Renn’s stability was rather cruel, in its own way.

Especially since I wasn’t sure how big of a problem it was yet, anyway.

“You just thought something weird, didn’t you?” Nann asked.

Glancing to my right, as the Weaver stepped up next to me and joined me in staring out the window… I nodded. “I had been,” I admitted.

She smirked at me. “Want advice? Love her. Cherish her. Even if you really don’t. Not only would it keep her mind and heart safe, it’d do both her and you good. Plus it’d do the Society good to see you having fun, for once. How long has it been since Nasba laughed like that Vim?” Nann asked as we watched the young girl who had been getting carried around by Renn and the human run into Nasba’s arms. She had the same tail feathers as her, so it made sense. She was more a granddaughter of Nasba than Nann.

“A long while,” I admitted. Nasba had always been a more cheery person, but the last few decades had been rough. And not just because her husband had passed away. Her first generation of descendants were gone now too. And that had seemed to hurt her more than her husband’s death.

“Regrettably the reality is she’ll likely perish or be lost to us for a different reason far sooner than simple depression. Yet all the same. I look forward to the letters I’ll get about you two as you travel over the years,” Nann said.

I scoffed. “From Renn herself, no doubt,” I said.

Nann giggled and nodded. “She did ask if she could send letters to us. Adorable isn’t it?”

Yes. It was. But I’d not admit it.

“Keep her safe Vim,” Nann said gently as Nasba headed our way. With the little girl. Hand in hand.

I nodded. “For now,” I said as I turned.

Nann giggled at me as I left the room, heading for the exit. Renn and the human had gone into the workshop, so I needed to head there as well.

As I left the building, I ran into Nasba and the little girl.

“Big brother!” the little girl drew my attention, and she beamed a happy smile up at me as she lifted the little duck stuffed animal I had made her. “Everyone loves it!” she told me.

“Well that’s not good. You better get strong enough to protect it, then,” I warned her.

The little girl’s smile blinked into a look of pure shock. “You’re right!” she shouted, astounded she hadn’t realized it before I had mentioned so.

Smiling softly I nodded. “Keep it safe okay?” I asked.

She nodded back quickly, with a serious expression. “Right…!” then she pulled her hand free of Nasba’s, and ran off into the house.

Nasba sighed at me. “Please Vim. You forget some of our children see you like a god, so they take your words to heart,” she said.

“That’s your fault. I’m not a god,” I said sternly.

Nasba shook her head at me, telling me she wasn’t in the mood to argue with me.

Still I smiled at her. “We leave tomorrow at dawn. Anything you need from me before we go?” I asked her.

“I have a letter for you. For Merit. I’ll bring it to you in a bit,” she said.

I nodded, I had been expecting it… which was why I had asked. Usually she had it ready within a day or so of me arriving. But I knew the reason… the reason was staring at me right now, off in the distance, from the workshop’s window.

“Thank you for teasing Renn. She’s enjoyed it,” I said.

Nasba smiled. “I’ve enjoyed it too. I really hope you’re wrong, Vim, and you aren’t infertile. I really want her children to mix with my own,” she said.

Frowning at the duck, I shook my head at her. “You’re as weird as Merit,” I said.

She smirked. “Mighty fine compliment, thanks.”

It hadn’t been, but sure.

Nasba then reached over and gently touched my arm. “All the same, I’m glad you’re doing okay Vim. I’ll admit I’ve… never actually really thought of it. So I’m glad that you’re doing good,” she said.

Frowning at her, I wondered what she meant. “Never thought of what?” I asked.

“Your happiness. I used to really get upset with you… since you were so mean to Merit. I’m sorry for that. I never took your feelings into account,” Nasba said.

A little disturbed by Nasba’s sudden… genuine apology, I wasn’t sure what to say or do.

“Uhm… sure… Thanks?” I said, and felt stupid. She was being rather serious, and I had just been sarcastic.

Nasba though smiled and giggled at me. “I also thanked Renn. She got all red and cute, you should have seen it.”

Ah… I nodded. “She does get all red, doesn’t she? Isn’t it weird?” I asked.

“It’s adorable. Those our age usually don’t get so emotional so easily… so it’s neat to see it when it happens. Please don’t let that part of her die, okay? I know how you get sometimes… don’t make a mistake, Vim.”

Taking her warning to heart, I nodded. “I’ll do my best to try.”

She nodded back. “Good… Good…” she whispered.

For a small moment we didn’t say anything more, and then one of the children shouted from inside the house. Nasba’s tail feathers shifted at the shout, telling me she recognized the voice. “Someone just started a fight,” she said knowingly.

“Children,” I said.

She huffed and nodded. “Sometimes they make you regret giving birth to them, I swear…” she mumbled as she stepped past me, to enter the house.

Smiling at her, I watched her go for a moment… then she paused, and glanced back at me.

I tilted my head at her, and she frowned at me. “If you have a son, give him to Merit, Vim. It’s the least you can do,” she said.

What little bit of a smile I had died instantly, and Nasba’s frown deepened as if in offense. “I’m serious!” she shouted.

“I could tell. Make sure you get me your letter before we leave, Nasba. Or else I’ll tell Merit you had spent all our time visiting with Renn and hadn’t had a moment for her,” I warned her.

“Gah! She’d believe you too!” Nasba groaned as I left her and stepped away.

Smiling as I crossed the courtyard, I paused a moment before the workshop to stare at the small pile of stuff Renn and the rest had prepared.

I had mentioned we were only taking two horses, hadn’t I?

Two horses. Three people. Yet there was easily three horses worth of stuff there in that pile. The type of amount that wouldn’t allow anyone to ride the horse as it carried all of it.

Sighing, I shook my head and entered the workshop. To find the source of this headache… and if possible, not fall deeper into love with her.

I needed to keep some dignity, after all.

What little I had left was precious...