"You may have to elaborate on that, with specifics" Brie grinned, and Mor shuffled a little uncomfortably.
"I have a lead on some people who are plotting against my family, they could become a considerable threat to my home" she stared off as if she were visiting her home with only her mind. The sheer expression of defiance that danced on her face; a true warrior - daring anyone hurt her family, it struck something hard in Brie, she'd seen that look before after all. "My home is still healing, it is in a place of uncertainty, of vulnerability" Mor shook her head "I don't want anyone else I care about getting hurt, or having to defend our home and people once again. I'd rather deal with matters personally." Brie stared at the woman opposite her in confusion as she began pacing. "It's my responsibility to stop whatever he's planning before…" she paused, and determination and fear flashed quickly in those golden eyes.
"I have something to do with this plan, I take it?" Her tone was less than kind but not quite reaching angry and Mor quickly met her eyes.
"I need someone who knows that land, someone…"
"Expendable?" Mor cringed but she did not attempt to correct her. "Where, exactly do you need to go?" Mor grimaced but quickly recovered as she took a deep breath.
"Hyburn" she whispered and paused. The embers from the fire reached out to her, darkening her tanned skin. Brianna blew out the breath she hadn't realised she was holding and met the faeries determined gaze.
"How could I help you?" Brie could feel her eyes grow frosty, as though Mor had just thrown a bucket of ice cold water over her.
"I have some very reliable sources that claim you know the lands there very well…I would compensate you handsomely of course and I-I would owe you" Brianna fiddled with a loose string on her loose pants. "After all that has happened, all the loss and pain…" She crossed the space between them slightly, she was so tall but Brianna could see in her eyes as she looked at her, that she was reliving some terrible event. "These people are more cruel than…" her eyes darkened with knowing "brute force isn't what they'll attempt. At least Not yet" to have a faerie plead, it seemed almost comical, but the woman stood inches from her was anything but. Her heart soared; she understood the worry and loss after all. "Brianna, I would never force anyone to do anything they do not wish to do. But please know, I do not ask this of you lightly". Brie sighed, what did she owe to the Fae?
"That is not a place I can go, it's too…I can't" Mor smiled her face bleak but understanding lined her sharp features "Mor…I'm sorry" But she only nodded.
"It's okay, I would never force you" curse that woman and her eyes!
"Mother save me" Brie muttered "I'm not saying yes - but I would have conditions" the words were out before she could stop them, what was she doing?
"Name them" it was the hope in those golden eyes that made Brie sigh inwardly.
"Later…In any case, you'd better get some sleep, the town is rather far from here now, I have spare sleep attire and the tent is more than large enough to hold us both" Mor smirked, ever so slightly and it sent shivers right through Brianna's body.
"I can find my own lodgings, don't worry" and somehow Brie understood with absolute clarity that Mor was strong, stronger than she could perhaps comprehend, because the look in her eyes told her as much. Perhaps, she would need to ask more questions of this strange faerie, like who she exactly was for one.
That didn't stop her from worrying, the darkness harboured creatures of considerable power, Brie had taught herself to survive and no matter how strong Mor seemed; Brie's own survival instincts told her to run.
"My company isn't so bad" Mor smirked "fine, it's better than what's out there, lurking in the dark!"
"Lurking in the dark" she repeated, head slightly tilted and over pronouncing the syllables, rolling them across her tongue as though tasting Brie's words in her mouth.
"Are you mocking me faerie? What lies out there…"
"I know" she said, eyes growing dark "I know what's out there" she looked out into the darkened trees and beyond, as though searching for something, or someone. Brie's muscles seemed to tense.
"Wait here" Brie stood and walked toward her tent, pulling the toggle and opening the flap entrance but before she could enter, a warm hand rested softly on her shoulder, Brie could only look down at it. The slender, callused fingers. As she glanced up at Mor and their eyes locked together, something shifted in her, that little voice became ever so slightly louder 'so close', what do you mean? She pleaded.
"I should go" and before Brie knew it, Mor had dropped her hand and began to walk away, as she turned a small smile on her face and said so softly "Think about my offer, Brianna". The faerie was gone, so fast and quiet that Brie could only remain standing like a tree stump, rooted to the spot, rapidly blinking at the space where Mor had once occupied. Who, in the Mother, was the faerie with the graceful walk, and the deep brown eyes and why, more importantly, did Brie want to know her?
"You're certain about her?" The low masculine voice murmured at his back. Warren turned in the dark shack and winced as the wooden floor creaked under his weight.
"I gave you all the information I had collected" he replied feigning boredom, sitting on a crooked chair and putting his feet up on an old, dusty table.
"We will see if the information you have collected is worth the price" Warren yawned and grinned as the dark shape materialised directly behind him. He felt himself tense, the muscles rippled along his shoulders and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck rose. "Do you have to do that?" He felt the low laughter on his neck.
"I need to know you're not slacking" the voice rumbled "we can't delay further, my informants have been retracted, you need to keep watching her, get closer" Warren stood and turned to face the Man of Shadows.
"Relax Azriel, I told you, Hyburn runs in that girls veins - I am almost positive of it" the shadows kissed Warren's bare arms and swirled around his legs, as though memorising him. He felt shivers crawl down his spine.
"Almost is not good enough…" Azriel warned and placed a small brown pouch on the table. Warren watched closely as the shadows whisked him away, crawling out of the small shack like it was made of paper. Leaving Warren with the small pouch and a headache.
How could he possibly get closer to the girl? He sat back down in the chair and began throwing the pouch in the air, catching it when it returned and beginning the process again and again as his puzzled mind raced.
"Perhaps I need to get her to come to me?" he whispered to the shadows, to which they seemed to sing in approval. He smiled, liking the sound of the rattling in his palm.
The wind was howling, so loud that the material of her tent rippled ferociously, Brie sighed loudly, cursing nature for rushing her. That day marked the final day she could stay in that particular spot, meaning she'd have to go through the timely effort of packing her meagre belongings and finding somewhere else to camp.
She flung herself out of the giant sleeping bag she had sewed herself, using sheepskin and wool. It had taken her ages but it was warm and she had a special bag that protected it from the wet she had bought from a trader, so it seemed worth the effort for the added comfort and protection it brought.
The rustling of the trees and the sound of the birds chirping forced her to begin her packing, as she took down the crooked poles and stuffed her clothes and belongings into her large bag, rolling the material that provided her shelter. She stood straight, holding her back and looked to the clear blue sky, sun beaming down on her face. She relished it, the slow warmth creeping around her body.
She stayed there, eyes closed, for just a few more moments, smiling despite herself. Enjoying the warmth of the early morning, basking her lightly freckled skin in a little blanket of golden warmth. It's brightness reminded her of the faerie who would return no doubt. Brianna's mind wondered what the woman might look like in the light of day.
Would her golden eyes be lighter? Would her tanned skin, seem darker? Would her cheeks flush as she smiled, pulling her full lips up into a lopsided, knowing grin? Would she be wearing that unusual clothing? Brie let the smile fade from her lips, shame sinking into her heart. She hadn't agreed to go to Hyburn with Mor…. she certainly wasn't comfortable with the knowing that Mor – a complete stranger - had some knowledge of her ties with that wretched island. Still, she couldn't quite shake the look of real fear and desperation from those golden irises.
But to ask to help her to go to a terrible, unforgiving place? How could the faerie ask that of a stranger? She did believe the woman, when she said she would not force her into helping her, Brie knew she had the strength to do so. Still, she was certain she hadn't given Brie the full story, and why would she? Brie ran her fingers through her hair and grimaced, perhaps bathing would help loosen the tangles? She thought. She grabbed her bag and grunted as she flung it onto her back, she hated carrying it, with her spare clothes, tools, rolled up tent, sleeping bag, food and water, it weighed a fair bit, and she wasn't the strongest of her kind.
She began the short walk to the stream, crunching leaves under her thick footwear, her thoughts drifting back to the decisions she would need to make. She could simply disappear, although she realised that the faerie probably had resources to track her down. Was she ready to go to that place? Where pain loomed in every street corner? Were there any streets left?
But survival teachings and fear were something that had taken root inside Brianna, and she couldn't imagine boarding a ship and intentionally sailing to that island, the island that held so many atrocities, so much pain, so much loss…and she hated ships. Brie dumped her bag down, a light layer of sweat rested on her forehead and took off her footwear.
She couldn't help but think of her family. She tried not to dwell on her family, on her four brothers, who would tease her relentlessly but loved her fiercely. And her mother, the softly spoken, beautiful woman, with the red hair and freckles; a pale yellow apron around her slim waist and a spoon in her hand, either for cooking or punishments depending on her day and how idiotic her children were behaving. Brie had been the most to receive the end of that spoon.
Her father was less reserved, more open, free spirited, much like Brie herself. With his shaggy hair, and the tired but durable body he used to chop wood, catch food, throw Brie up in the air and catch her when she fell, his callused hands, scrubbing stains and hugging his wife. Brie smiled sadly, tossing her clothing from her sticky body and folding it neatly on a fallen tree.
Her family were deemed 'odd' in her small village, how they taught their only daughter to fight, to read and write, and how they liked to sing to each other, with a gleam in their eye – it was strange for the other poor folks of the little village. Brie thought that perhaps they were simply afraid of those who would dare challenge the norm. Of course her neighbours never once complained when her father fixed their fence, or chased away foxes that threatened the chickens. Or even when her mother baked large pies and brought them to village gatherings, helping to clean up afterwards, and they definitely didn't call her three older brothers odd, or menacing when they…
Brie felt something treacle and splash onto her leg. As she blinked, she noted the traitorous tears freely streaming down her face, dropping on her exposed leg. She sat on her bottom, sniffing loudly and wiping her face with her bare arms, shaking her head furiously at herself. She hated those memories, the happy ones. The memories that made her heart grow weak and her blood turn cold. The pain, she could use, even master to bend to her every whim and will. But the good memories, of a time long gone. They only made her weaker. Pathetic. She shook her head and ran into the freezing cold stream, loving the feeling of the water as it splashed up her legs and rushed up to her waist.
Pain, she could master.
It was gloriously freezing, painfully so. Brie swam a little, allowing the current to toy with her and challenging it by swimming against it. She liked that most, to feel like she had control. So much of her life had been so outside of her control, that when she bathed or got to swim, the water didn't deter her, on the contrary, she liked the challenge. It didn't treat her like a scarred woman. It treat her like she were nothing, just a floating mass of blood and skin that had fallen into it. So she floated on her back, thinking of the pretty faerie that had asked something great of her, perhaps without the woman even really knowing of its magnitude.
But all she could think, as she drifted like a fallen tree branch, was of her brothers in their matching grey uniform, a bag slung over a shoulder, and her mother gripping Brianna's small hand firmly, fighting back the tears in her pretty blue-grey eyes. How she looked into her elder brothers' eyes, green like Brie's own and how sad he looked, but there was something else, something they all shared, all three of them, fear, so undiluted, so raw, that young Brianna had cried.
Gripping onto her mother, and her youngest sibling, Vale, clinging her other hand, his little body hiding behind her slightly, confusion written in his small face. She'd only ever known her big brothers as teasing, funny, kind and handsome young men, not too far off boys themselves. Don't go, she wanted to shout, please stay or else, let me come? But at that time, Brianna didn't understand, she was but eight, her youngest brother six, she couldn't have known.
Brianna let out a scream, dunking her head under the water, her eyes raw and open wide. They stung and still she forced them open. Damn Mor, damn her for making these emotions, these locked away memories resurface from that rotten, forgotten part of herself.
She soared to the surface with a spluttering cough - her insides gulping the fresh air, the sun beaming on her, the stream spitting her out as though it was finished with her; Brianna rolled her pained eyes at herself, it's time to leave, she thought.
Her feet squelched under the dirt and as she dried herself, water droplets rushed back to the earth, Brianna shoved back the growing ache in her chest. After she put on clean clothes, and washed some of her others in the stream, she sat back and waited while they dried in the baking sunshine, willing them to hurry so she could get to the nearby town and stock up on some supplies, say some farewells and disappear.
Mor was a stranger that had clearly done a lot of research on her, and Brianna did not like it one bit. She owed her nothing. She owed her people even less. She kept repeating these facts in her mind, all the while her heart grew more and more doubtful. A seed had been planted in her heart by that faerie and her pretty mouth and soft worried gold eyes – and the weed was growing and growing. So Brie decided it was indeed time to move on, it's the only way, she assured herself.
The path to the town was not too long, and she soon saw the little huts of various shapes and sizes, sticking out in the distance but as she got closer her nose crinkled as it scented burning smoke. Her ears then caught the onslaught of screaming and cries from mothers, children, Brie she swore loudly as she dropped her bag behind a tree and sprinted the rest of the way.
"What happened?" She asked no one in particular.
"Stove fire, the old woman left it burning and fell asleep, the stupid old bat" said a man next to her, stroking his grey beard.
"We need buckets, pots, pans!" she shouted and a number of eyes, men, women and children, found her eyes. "Go, get as many as you can, take them to the well, make a line back and pass them down quickly…go!" She shouted, and they all dispersed to their own homes, retrieving buckets, stove pots and Mother knew what else.
Brianna glared at the blaze, small embers flickering, trying to reach out to the other buildings around it. Not today, she tried to tell it. The people had already began throwing water onto it, and it hissed in reply, but still, the buckets and pots came, filled with water, passed down, emptied by Brianna and some others before going back down the line to be refilled.
It took until well after midday before the heat of the fire lessened, and the tired eyes of those around her, faces smeared with smut and grime and that's when she heard a whimper, a small cry coming from the home.
"Did anyone check the home?" the tired and scared people around her shook their heads as the pots were passed and thrown, confusion written in their dirty faces. "Did anyone get out?"
"Yes miss, the old woman and her husband but…" Said the man next to her, grunting as he threw another heavy bucket onto the blaze "but the woman's grandson was dropping off before he left for the ships" he was a soldier then. Brianna sighed loudly.
"Keep up with the water, we nearly have it, we can't stop, if it spreads this whole cursed town will burn to the ground" He nodded and barked for more water.
Brie entered through a blown out window in the back, deeming it the easiest and safest entry point, covering her mouth with some material. She coughed "hello? Is anyone here?" she shielded her eyes from the smoke and remaining fire. The heat alone made her blood boil.
A muffled cry came from the adjacent room; it was a testament to luck that they weren't already dead. "In here" a muffled voice cried. Brianna covered her eyes and dodged fallen blackened wood from the torn roof, fire grazed her leg and arm, but she pushed through, coughing heavily.
The young man was tucked under a bed, she couldn't look at the ruined home, the little paintings burnt, stools, tables and clothes black, a whole life, wiped away. "Thank the mother" he whispered.
"Can you walk or not?"
"A bit of wood fell on my leg" he pointed to his leg, twisted slightly. The man didn't seem much older than Brianna and despite the dirt around his face, he was undeniably handsome, his dark hair cut hort, his skin very dark with his eyes a dark brown, almost black.
"Right then" she coughed "fancy getting out of here?" He only smiled. "This is probably going to hurt, but I find" she hooked his arm around her, he was larger than she was, his body rippling with thick muscles, she was lucky she was somewhat strong herself. She huffed as he wiggled out of his spot, whimpering in pain, and dragging his leg up, which made him swear, loudly. "Bones heal," she continued and they began to move, dodging debris and the remnants of the fire, eager to devour them both "but a dead man does not" she finished with a small lopsided smile and grunted as he rested most of his considerable weight on her.
Brie rushed out of the window, offering her hand to the man, who took it gladly, hoisting himself out with a little more trouble than Brie had. She hooked her arm under his middle and they hobbled back to the group who had almost tamed the raging fire. Relief washed over some of their faces as they noticed the pair. She laid him down and they both began to cough, wiping their faces with the backs of their hands, Brianna began to laugh. Quietly at first, through the coughing and then full blown howling. The mans face shifted in confusion but let out a small chuckle himself.
"I owe you my life" he whispered, looking into her eyes as an expression washed over him. Brianna grinned and tore some of the middle of her clothing. The mans big eyes widened and she rolled her own before wrapping his leg with around a long stick she'd found by her own foot, securing it in place.
"I don't see any blood, you'll live another day" he stared at her, undeniable awe in his dark eyes. She didn't have the energy to feel flattered, that despite how haggard she felt she presumably looked, he still found her appearance agreeable. She stopped for some time, cursing herself for stepping in to help these people given most of them either mistrusted her or outright disliked her. But she recalled a fire like that in another village and she hadn't known how to help and a child lost his life. "Keep it strapped for a while, any wounds, clean them thoroughly" she let out a long breath and stood, dusting off some soot, watching the final embers blow out and hearing the cheers of the people, made her smile before she turned.
"Wait!" He bellowed, and she stopped, hating how she needed yet another wash. "I don't even know your name"
"Brie" he grinned, showing some wonkey, white teeth, his only flaw, she thought, but this somehow made him more handsome, human faults and all.
"Well Brie, I know you saved my life, please allow me to thank you" it didn't sound like a question.
"It's not necessary"
"Let me anyway? Just a drink, later, get cleaned up and I'll see you in the tavern…please?" He pleaded, curse the human mans ego and the propriety of it all. She had to go, she had to leave…but he did have a handsome face, and Mor didn't exactly say when she would return. She assumed she had some time.
"One drink, and then I have to go" he held his hands up and nodded.
"Of course" she nodded, and turned in the direction of her abandoned bag, noticing people smiling warmly at her, typical, she thought; now she had earned their trust.
"And thank you again" he coughed and Brie walked away. It would seem someone really didn't want her leaving just yet. She glanced back, noticing that his build seemed somewhat familiar but shook her head and hoisted her bag onto her back, grimacing as her burned wrist had similar wounds to keep it company.