My husband never recovered fully since that day. I’ve had to stop him from lifting the heavier equipment around. The man was stubborn, but not that stubborn. My days of being the face of our little shop were coming to an end, but I didn’t mind. No one really comes here anymore, not since the “accident”. From the way people look at me when I go to the market, you could’ve sworn they had seen a monster’s captive or prisoner. And to be fair, I’d have agreed with them, if it had been me from several years past.

  I grew up in a village even smaller than Chance Village. I didn’t really remember all that much about it, only that it was close to the sea. Not the Border Sea, but the Other Sea. The salt and sand and cawing of birds, that much I remember. But everything else comes and goes, and I never understood what they meant for me. My first real memory was of begging with other kids, in a city called Precipice. It was a strange city, where people lived among chasms with no bottoms. We would wait for people at bridges and the like, hoping for a stray coin to come our way.

  This went on until I looked someone wrong one day. That’s what I think happened since I woke up in a dark, cold room with none of my friends around me. I didn’t have a stitch of clothing on me, and I had been cleaned up, with rough brushes and cruel hands. Everything was sore and dry and dark. No light, no hope, and no way out. I waited for hours until someone came with a light.

  It was blinding to see again, and what I saw was disheartening. The one that came looked like a walking corpse, with a gaunt face and a cruel sneer. He brought the light up to the slit in the door, at which point I realized there was a door. I tried to cry out for help, for food, for clothes. But nothing came out, and I found myself staring at the floor, sobbing.

  “You should stop that.” The man said, “Water’s hard enough to come by down here, and I’m keen on keeping costs down.”

  “ … Why are … you … doing this?” I managed to croak out this question.

  “I haven’t done a thing, little miss. I’m just a manager here. Ask that question to the boss when you meet him.” The man scratched his cheek. “He’ll feel pity and let you go. But that’s unlikely. He’s an efficient monster, he is.” The man stepped away from my door, the light no longer blinding me. “Be a good girl miss, and I’ll be good for you as well. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  And then he left.

  I … would rather not remember what happened after that. Life made me into a rough and broken thing, and I accepted that it was my fate. I put my pain onto others and sought to crush hope for the lie that it was. I made a lot of enemies, including my husband. We fought, and fought, and did so until one day we stopped. He had enough and asked me to escape with him. I didn’t quite have enough but figured I’d stick around him until he let his guard down and I’d kill him.

  And now you’re here, fussing about his health like an old mother hen. I laughed inside at the irony. The domestic life agrees with me more than I like to admit. I even care about caring for him more than finding out who hurt him. I sighed while I let the past go once more.

  I looked up from the table to see my guest, chief of Chance Village, Mathis Moreau. He was in old military gear, with an impressive spear on his back. He had come in and demanded to see Brier two hours ago. I said no, and he tried to force things. The wards almost kicked him out, but my curiosity got the better of me. So now he sits, restrained and waiting for me to start talking.

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  And so I did.

  “Why are you here?” I started with a simple question first.

  “I told you when I got here.” Mathis scowled.

  “No, all you did was barge in and yell at me to get my husband.” My eyes rested on the spear behind Mathis, power restrained to a single tip. I thanked my wards for subduing him before he could use his spear. That thing is bad news. I nodded to myself. I’m not getting my house blown up for any reason.

  “And I apologize for that, I am, but I’m on urgent business right now.” Mathis exhaled, his stress so clear that I had the urge to offer him a sleeping aid.

  “What kind of “urgent business”, Mathis?” I asked, taking a sip from a concoction Brier taught me a few years back. It’s supposed to keep one’s skin youthful and melt fat. Unfortunately, it also tasted like melted bread with stale jam.

  The things I do for love. I chuckled.

  “I can’t say.” Mathis face turned sorrowful for a moment. “”

  “Anything you can say to him, you can say to me, Mathis.”

  “It’s about my daughter! She’s … dead. Murdered.”

  “Murdered? Mathis, you can’t start looking for someone to blame over her death. The forest took her, as it did many others. It’s how life goes here.”

  “No, I have proof this time. The adventurer a few months back, do you remember him?”

  “Him? Oh, that one. Yes, he went here and bought a couple potions. Brier might’ve invited him to his office to talk about something. After that, he …”

  “What? What happened then?”

  “Brier was attacked. The adventurer had the gall to accuse me of knifing my husband. My own husband!”

  “I don’t care about that. Tell me where he went next.”

  “He left, after helping me carry Brier back to his bed. Left only a couple coins for his potions, though I only found out once I went back to the front and checked the counter.”

  “And?! Did he say anything about where he’s going? Did he say his name?!”

  “No. And that’s everything I know about the matter. You can ask my husband ONLY when he’s better and if you ask nicely.”

  “F-”

  “NO.” I slammed my hand on the table. “THAT IS ALL THAT YOU’LL GET TODAY, MATHIS. YOU’LL GET UP AND WALK OUT THIS HOUSE, AND LEAVE.” Mathis’ face seemed ready to protest, but I had enough. I got up and walked to the front, gesturing for my guest to follow. At the threshold, I had Mathis face me one last time. I cracked my knuckles and went to work before he could say a thing. I didn’t have the luxury of time or familiarity, so I went with what works most of the time.

  You will leave this place and not remember what happened.

  You will not feel anger or ill-will towards Brier Ezy or his wife.

  You will not return unless told otherwise.

  Three suggestions of similar natures. Each made to reinforce the core message of the spell. Once it looked well-done, I snapped my fingers and shoved Mathis off. I stayed by the door a bit longer, watching him go from confusion to anger, and then to grim determination. He walked back to the village, his spear powering down, thankfully. I stayed there until he was no longer in sight, and then I sighed in relief.

  It’s okay, you did nothing wrong. You were only protecting yourself and your family. Everything will be fine. I repeated to myself as I went back, hoping that I was right for once.