That's Not a Chicken
Seventy-two hours. That was how long it was since he last laid eyes on Talla. Harvey was doing his best to keep things together, if only for the sake of the injured. Luckily, the soldiers took charge of navigation once they heard the plan to travel along the river to the western coast of the continent.
Since no one pursued them, Talla must have bought them some time, but Harvey was beginning to lose faith that she would return to the group. Was she injured? Had the Gotorons captured her?
The syren's haughty level of self-confidence bordered on hubris. Yet the doctor acknowledged that as a demigoddess, Talla was somewhat justified in that way of thinking. Despite the confidence in her ability, the needle on Harvey's moral compass kept insisting that he ought to turn back to search for her. It was getting more difficult with each minute to resist that magnetic pull.
But even if Harvey's worst fears came to pass - that Talla was now held captive or suffered some worse fate - what could he possibly do? He was neither a soldier, nor a master tactician, nor anyone of political importance to negotiate her release.
Reluctantly, Harvey acknowledged that turning back would risk the lives of the Ferngill Republic soldiers - and therefore was not an option. So, in this constant state of anxiety, the traveling medic traveled with the escaped soldiers from his home country.
That night, Harvey sat away from the campfire and gazed up at the waxing crescent moon, pondering whether Talla could see it, too.
"Are you worried about your friend?"
The doctor nearly jumped out of his skin, alarmed that Kent snuck up on him so silently. He glanced up at the man through thick lenses and relaxed. The blond stared down at him. Harvey cleared his throat. "She's not my-" the brunet hesitated, unsure of how to label his relationship with Talla.
While the syren vowed to ensure his safe return, Harvey's employment contract with Talla was technically terminated at his own request. Labeling her as a guide was too impersonal, and he was no sailor that worshiped her in song, nor was he a fellow merchant. The doctor was a normal mortal, he just happened to know more about the syren than most and perhaps less than others.
"Yes," Harvey conceded, boiling down his answer to its most simplistic accuracy. The demigoddess may not consider them friends, but he did. "I think Talla might be in trouble." His mustache drooped, heavy from the weight of his guilt. "I left her behind. I know she told me to, but I can't help but feel I shouldn't have."
Kent nodded grimly, offering Harvey a swig from his water canteen. The doctor drank it eagerly while the soldier filled the silence with his own regrets.
"Jodi's always said she understood why I fight," Kent began, keeping his voice low so his fellow soldiers would not hear. "But my wife's spent the prime of her life waiting for a guy like me to come home to her." Harvey heard the remorse pouring out of the soldier with each word that flowed from his mouth. The doctor offered the water jug back to its owner.
Kent downed the canteen as if it were a pint of strong alcohol. "I should have stayed home this time, been a better husband to Jodi and a real father to my boys." His voice cracked as he buried his face into his hands, "I should've shown Jodi how much I love her instead of leaving her all alone again…"
The dam of emotion broke and Kent quietly sobbed into his palms. It was frightening to see such a physically and mentally capable individual fall to pieces like this. Everyone had a breaking point, and this man was forced to carry on long after his own was reached. Harvey suspected that the experience in the Gotoron camp had broken Kent, but he had done his best to hold himself together until he was safe.
The doctor felt his eyes grow sympathetically misty and he placed a hand on his neighbor's shoulder. Harvey wanted to assure Kent that things would be okay in the end. "We'll get you home to Jodi and the boys soon, Kent," the brunet vowed. "Then you'll finally get the chance to make it up to her."
Harvey prayed he could keep that promise, unlike his assurances to Heather that she would survive her cancer treatment. But hope was all he had right now. Harvey clung to the chance that syren's sacrifice would allow the former prisoners of war to return home safely.
Craning his neck to gaze back up at the moon, the doctor ached to hear the sound of Talla's voice – that sweet lullaby she sang when he had trouble falling asleep. Hell, he would even settle her belittling his mortality again. At least then Harvey would know she was safe.
It was too early to be awake, but Sam had agreed to take Vincent to Fairy Rose Farm today to check on the "dragon egg" and the blond was not about to disappoint his little brother.
Violet gave them permission to check the incubator anytime they wanted, so Sam decided that he would not bother the farmer and her friend Bex and just head straight for the coop on the southern end of the property.
As Sam led the way, Vincent hopped on one foot, teetering as he waited to jump onto the next footprint his brother left behind. Sam smirked in amusement, wondering how long Vincent would look up to him like this. Would things stay the same when their dad came back? Or would Vincent ditch him to hang in the blink of an eye?
Sam was not sure how to feel about Kent's return. He admired his father's bravery and was glad he was alive, but he better understood how his father's absence had hurt his mom now and the resentment was slowly creeping into his mind. How bad must it have been if his mom decided to forget her husband? Did she even think of the consequences?
What the hell am I gonna say to dad when he comes home? Sam questioned, tugging at the edge of his ear.
A friendly bark from Bruno distracted Sam from his thoughts. The dog came bounding toward the brothers, tackling Vincent in a slurry of snow and saliva. Vincent giggled with delight and Sam crouched down to greet the farm dog. "Take it easy, Bruno! We'll give you some love."
Once Bruno had his fill of affection, the trio continued toward the chicken coop. The German Shepherd happily plunged his snout in the snow whenever he sensed something interesting may be hiding under the layer of white. He huffed noisily to get a good sniff, leaving a dusting of fresh powder on his nose.
"What do you think he's looking for?" Vincent asked, curiously inspecting a divot in the snow left by the Shepherd.
Sam shrugged. "Beats me." When they reached the farm building, the musician noticed Bruno's nose was firmly wedged in the corner of the coop's lower door frame, as if the dog were trying to push it open.
"Bruno, you aren't allowed in with the chickens," Sam scolded their canine companion in a low, calm voice. That was the one rule Violet gave them and he was not about to break it. He tried to nudge the canine out of the way. "Rumor has it you terrorized the hens last time."
But the German Shepherd would not obey, forcing Sam to muscle his way between the dog and the door before going inside. The warm air from the heated coop rushed toward him, carrying the heavy weight of silence. No hens rushed toward her. No clucking, either.
Something was off.
Cautiously, Sam stepped inside, completely forgetting that he meant to keep Bruno out. Vincent, to his credit, stood his ground despite the edge of uncertainty in his voice. "What's wrong, Sam?" the boy asked, peering into the building.
"I'm not sure, but stay back just in case…"
Bruno fell into step behind Sam and a low growl emitted from his throat as a pile of hay in the back corner rustled. On the opposite side of the coop, the hens huddled together in a frightened mass of feathers. The blond counted the fowl and found none were missing. "So, what's in the hay?" he muttered to himself.
Sam took a step forward and something cracked under the soles of his boots. There were shell fragments on the floor. "Your egg hatched!" he announced in an excited whisper. Slowly, the man approached the hay pile and gently swept away layer after layer with his hand.
After a few moments, a blur of green lunged for Sam's hand and he shouted in alarm, stumbling onto his backside. Bruno barked, but wagged his tail as he inspected the creature. It was scaly, with orange spines along its back. Its bright, beady little eyes gazed up at the farmer's dog curiously.
Vincent stood beside Sam, staring at the creature, his eyes growing larger with every passing moment. Finally, he pointed at the reptile and shouted, "Sam, I told you, I told you! It really is a dragon!"
Abigail awoke relatively late that morning. It was surprisingly sunny for Winter and the light reflected off the snow, casting a bright glare directly through the open curtains of her bedroom window. She winced and rolled over, trying to block out the offending light by throwing a pillow over her head and curling into a protective ball.
Although Abigail did not like to admit it, something finally clicked with Rasmodius' lessons while they went exploring in the mines yesterday, causing her to expel more magical energy than she intended with an especially large splash of acid. The viscous liquid had melted a few monsters on contact, but the sorceress came dangerously close to fainting.
Sam and Alex had to help her limp out of the cavern after that. It was embarrassing, but probably for the best. Samantha was having a crisis when she realized that the slimes and other creatures in the mines were real and not some small-town hoax.
Yet even after a good night's sleep, Abigail's body still felt like lead. As she tried to get up, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen, and she fell off the bed in a heap of limbs and sweat. "Abigail, what is going on in there?" Pierre's voice shouted on the other side of her bedroom door.
She did not want her father to see her in this state, so she lied. "I'm - I'm fine, dad," she called to him. "David just knocked over something on my dresser." Abigail doubted that her guinea pig could knock anything over, but she hoped it would keep Pierre out of her hair.
No such luck. The door burst open, and Pierre unceremoniously stormed into her room. He whipped his head around, nearly throwing his glasses off his face as he scanned the room for something - or someone - in particular.
"Abigail," the shopkeeper addressed his daughter angrily. The noise felt like a knife piercing her skull and Abigail winced at the sound. "I've had it with you staying out late partying with your friends, then sleeping the day away." Pierre continued listing his grievances, "You have duties you've been neglecting! You should be helping your mother in the kitchen, and me with the general store!"
The amethyst-haired woman was already miserable from her magical hangover. Pierre's sexist shouts only added fuel to the fire. It boiled up inside her - compounded with all the same attitudes of her new-found biological father. Pierre wanted her to stay in the kitchen, Rasmodius did not believe in her ability as a sorceress, and her mother not only lied to everyone, but allowed both of her fathers to speak down on her. It made Abigail want to strike back at them - all of them.
Shaking, she stood up to her full height, glaring daggers at Pierre. "I'm so sick of all your backward beliefs!" the young woman shouted, her voice rising to new heights as she released all her pent-up fury. "I won't be told what I can and can't do anymore!"
Pierre opened his mouth to form an argument, but Abigial did not give him the opportunity.
"You really want to know where I've been going these past few weeks?" she shouted, smiling as she paused for dramatic effect. It felt cathartic to air everything out. "I've been hanging out with my real father!"
Pierre's expression contorted between confusion, anger, and despair. "Wh-what are you talking about? I am your father!" the brunet insisted, though even as the words left his lips, his confidence faded noticeably. Abigail could see the gears moving in his mind as he did some quick calculations. No doubt about the time he and Caroline broke up and got back together.
It was now Pierre's turn to take out his emotions on someone else. "How dare you lie about something like this," he growled, balling his fists at his side. "I forbid you from leaving the house until further notice!"
Abigail could feel a strange energy at the tips of her fingers, and it harmonized with the steady beat of her pulse. The sorceress's hands tingled - something was about to happen, and she was not sure whether she wanted to stop it.
That was, until Caroline stepped into Abigail's bedroom, and the power was snuffed out like a candle in a storm. "What is going on here?" the emerald-haired woman demanded in a firm, commanding voice. Abigail stepped back in surprise; she had never heard her mother speak with such authority.
Pierre spun around to confront his wife. "Our daughter claims to have been spending time with her 'real' father." The brunet slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose and crossed his arms in front of his body. "Where did she get such a ridiculous idea, Caroline?"
He practically dared Abigail's mother to contradict the established narrative that she carefully crafted all these years. In an instant, it seemed Caroline decided it was not worth the effort to keep up the façade anymore. The woman sighed audibly and acknowledged her deceit.
"That's because I told her the truth," Caroline revealed solemnly." You aren't Abigail's father, Pierre."
"What?!" The grocer's cocky smirk dissipated as the blood drained from his face. "B-but you swore to me - "
"And you swore that you'd never see that girl from Grampleton again!" Caroline shot back, disallowing her husband to list his grievances. The tension in the air was so thick, it smothered Abigail. Caroline clarified, this time at a softer volume. "I was not about to raise my daughter alone and you were the only man in my life who could fulfill that role."
At first, Abigail was happy to see Pierre knocked down a peg or two, but her mom's last comment had been the finishing blow. The man she had known as her father crumpled to the floor. Regret stirred in her heart. She should not have said anything, not in a situation like this.
"So, all these years I've been raising another man's daughter with a woman who only ever saw me as a convenient fool."
The silence that followed lingered on too long, but Abigail could not find the words to fill the space. Finally, Pierre rose to his feet, removed his glasses, and asked his wife one simple question. "Did you ever love me, Caroline?"
Caroline smiled sadly. "I did, Pierre." There were tears in her eyes that the woman was too proud to release. "But you've shown time and time again that work is more important to you than your family," the emerald haired woman explained. "I'm not so sure what I feel is love anymore."
Pierre inhaled deeply. "Get out," he ordered, swiping his hand toward the door. "Both of you leave this house, I don't care where you go!"
Abigail looked to her mother for guidance. Caroline nodded gravely and disappeared from the room. The young sorceress grabbed her backpack and threw in her essentials as quickly as she could as Pierre stomped out of the room. She tossed some fresh food in David's cage, too. The woman knew she would have to come back for her gerbil later, once living arrangements were figured out.
When she was done, Abigail left Pierre in the room and went to find her mother. Caroline was nowhere to be found in her bedroom, so the amethyst-haired woman then went to check in the greenhouse.
Only when she went to the kitchen, the door to the indoor garden had vanished. It was as if it - and her mother - had disappeared into thin air.
The former king of the Ferngill Republic sighed heavily, stroking his thick beard as he reviewed the intelligence Marlon had collected on his behalf.
Michel Montmorency had always been a piece of work, but his son Howard had taken things to a whole new level - and a low one, at that.
Howard probably gave the deceased Lothaire a run for his money on the number of women he strung along before moving on to greener pastures. Guillaume himself had never taken an interest in women - or men for that matter. Quite frankly, he preferred to be left well alone in his solitude. It was a major reason he had abdicated the throne.
If Guillaume remained the country's rler, the nobility insisted he produce an heir the old-fashioned way with one of their daughters. Or adopt an heir among their sons. The latter was somehow worse. So, rather than playing along with the tiring political games of the nobility, the retired royal decided to dissolve the monarchy in its entirety, change his name, and live off the land. The man was much happier now in his daily life, despite the occasional disruptions to the tranquility.
But now the consequences of that decision were coming back to bite him. Hard - and with distinct venom. The white-haired man pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned back against the wall behind him. Across the room, Gil's rocking chair creaked as the old man swayed beside the fireplace.
Marlon noticed his displeasure and approached warily. Despite the guard's bad leg, he still kneeled respectfully. "Is something troubling you, your Highness?"
"I may have to go to the capital to clean up one of my brother's messes," the retired king groused. He scratched his beard and realized it had grown longer lately. He hated the idea of shaving it, but perhaps a trim would not be so bad.
His loyal bodyguard's eyes lit up. "Do you mean - ?"
Guillaume interrupted. "Prepare things just in case. I hope I won't need to intervene, but those idiots have an irritating tendency to prove me wrong." He lifted a finger pointedly at Marlon. "This doesn't mean I'm coming out of retirement. I don't want rumors floating around after this, understand?"
Marlon's mustache twitched guiltily. "Yes, your Majesty."
"I told you to quit calling me that!"
"My apologies, Your Majesty."
Violet, Bex, and the brothers all stood in a half-circle around the green lizard wallowing in the hay of the chicken coop.
"¿Qué carajo es eso?" Bex inquired, crouching down to on the scaly creature's level.
"Language, Bex," the farmer warned, reminding her best friend that there was a kid in their presence.
The cosmetologist huffed in annoyance. "El niño no habla español," she groused, but did not argue any further. Bex turned her attention back to the animal in question. "It's obviously not a chicken, so what is it?"
"It's my dragon!" Vincent declared, trying to push past his protective older brother for the dozenth time. The blond kept the kid a safe distance from their mystery hatchling, but Violet noticed the gleam of curiosity in his eyes, too.
Honestly, Violet was excited about this, too. The little "lizard" appeared to be a baby stegosaurus and for some reason out of all the strange things that the farmer had encountered in her first year living in Stardew Valley, this one surprised her the most.
"I now understand how those scientists felt in Jurassic Park when their little dinosaurs hatched…" Violet chuckled under her breath. Despite her nervousness, this hatchling thrilled her inner child. The farmer plucked a bit of hay from the heap and rolled it into a ball, offering it to the pseudo-dinosaur with an open palm. Sadly, her bait was not enticing enough.
Violet rummaged through her bag and found some berries, placing them atop the lump of hay in her hand. The green reptile sniffed the air, its nostril flaring. Bright eyes locked onto the alluring treats and the stegosaurus shuffled eagerly toward Violet.
She smiled at the cold-blooded creature and placed her food offering on the floor in front of her, but Vincent voiced an objection. "I wanna feed my dragon first, Violet!"
"Vince!" Sam scolded the boy. Vincent pouted and turned toward Violet pleadingly.
The floral-haired woman sighed with an affectionate smile. While she wanted to be the one to bond with the possible dinosaur first, she had promised Sam's little brother he could care for it. "Sure, Vincent. Come on." She beckoned him toward her. "Don't rush at her, though. We don't want to spook her."
"¿Por qué?" Bex was more cautious than the little boy. "You think this one spits acid?" she asked, eyeing the animal suspiciously.
Violet shook her head. "No, that one had frills. I think she's harmless." The woman watched as her young neighbor slowly lowered his hand to touch the plates on the orange plates protruding from the hatchling's back.
The boy giggled as the dinosaur leaned into the warmth of his hand and Violet could not help but grin at his infectious laughter. "She likes me!" Vincent squealed, looking toward Sam.
"Of course, she does! She knows you've been taking good care of her," the blond man replied with a proud smirk. He crouched down beside his little brother. "Mind if I give it a go?"
Vincent nodded approvingly and yielded his spot to his older sibling. Violet did not mind. It was sweet the boys were having a bonding moment and the wavy-haired woman knew that Sam was dealing with a lot right now. They needed this more than she did.
Within ten minutes, the miniature dinosaur was surrounded by the four humans, reveling in their body heat, and gorging itself on another handful of berries. Violet began to wonder after the third helping how much this reptile could eat and whether the hens would get enough to eat with her around. "Stegosaurs are exclusively herbivores, right?" She was nearly one-hundred percent sure she was right, but there was no guarantee that this lizard was the species it resembled.
Vincent corrected her. "Dragons eat meat, too!" The boy was giddy, his smile reaching ear to ear. "And her name's 'Chomp.'"
Sam opened his mouth to comment when the door to the coop burst open. Violet turned and found Abigail in the doorway. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy and there was a heavy duffle bag slung over her shoulders. "I finally found you dorks!" she wailed. "I've been texting you and you wouldn't answer me, Sam!" She wiped a fresh trail of tears from her eyes.
Sam shot upright, immediately engaging in boyfriend mode. "Oh, shit! Sorry, babe," he apologized, closing the gap between them and wrapping his arms around her. He tilted his head toward the hatchling. "We've been kinda busy here."
"We don't know what it is," Bex chimed as she stroked the reptile's full belly.
Abigail blinked hard, as if she could not believe what she was seeing. "Violet," the sorceress queried, her eyebrows creased in confusion. "Why do I smell smoke in here?"
Haley laid on her bed, scrolling through her phone. A lot of the models she followed for inspiration were on vacation, opting for white-hot sand and the crystal-clear waters to fight the winter blues. The blonde sighed heavily. She really wanted to get out of town.
Leah, whose head was resting on Haley's stomach, glanced up at her. "You okay?"
"I just want to get out of town for a while, you know? I'm so bored of being stuck inside!" Haley could deal with snow for a little while. It was pretty and it was a great excuse to wear cute, cozy accessories, but the blonde could only take so much before being cooped up began to wear on her.
Leah turned to her side, facing Haley. "You know, Emily asked if we wanted to go on a double date with her and Shane tomorrow. Would that help?"
Haley sat up, accidentally smothering her girlfriend in the process. "Oh my gosh, yes!" she exclaimed, "Let's go on a date!"
The blonde scrambled out of bed, nearly knocking Leah onto the floor. "Ugh, what should I wear?" Haley fretted, opening her closest to go through her options. She threw several outfits onto the bed for her girlfriend's inspection.
Haley scanned the closet, looking for her periwinkle scarf that would totally bring out Leah's gorgeous eyes, when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. She stopped for a moment to enjoy the sensation.
"You'll look beautiful no matter what you decide," Leah mumbled into her curls.
"But I want us to look cute on our first real date!" Haley whined in rebuttal. Going out to The Stardrop Saloon did not count. Everyone knew them here. She spun around, still encapsulated in Leah's embrace. "We could wear a couple's outfit!"
Leah's eyebrows rose questioningly. "You want to wear the same clothes?"
Haley noticed the doubtful look on the red head's face.
"I don't think I have anything that matches what you wear, Haley." Leah stole a fleeting glance at Haley's chest and flushed. "And I don't quite fill out a top the way you do."
Haley cleared her throat, caught off guard by Leah's comment about her figure. Recovering, she shook her head.
"No, not the exact same thing." She slipped out of Leah's arms and handed her girlfriend a blouse. Then she pulled out another in a different style, but the same color family. "We can wear similar shades, or colors that complement each other." The blonde went to her vanity and opened a drawer, presenting Leah with a variety of accessories. "Or wear the same accent color!"
Leah's face went blank, and Haley was hit with a wave of self-consciousness. "Unless you don't want to?" Maybe her girlfriend was not into the idea of coordinating date outfits. The younger woman knew she was more into personal style and fashion than Leah, but was this a step too far out of the artist's comfort zone? Doing something like this might not appeal to her.
But Leah refuted her conclusion. "No, it's fine. It's just Kel - " the ginger hesitated, her grey eyes fixated on the stray hairs coming free from her braid. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring her up. We just never did anything like this."
For some reason, that made Haley feel better. She gathered Leah's hands in her own, pulling them toward her. "Then I get to be your first." The blonde swept a hand over the line of clothing displayed on her bed, "So, which outfit gives you 'night out in the city with my hot girlfriend' vibes?"
Leah shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Actually…"
Haley did not like the tone of her girlfriend's voice. She had a sneaking suspicion that her sister had something to do with it. "Oh, no," she groaned. "Please tell me this double date isn't a camping trip!" She hated camping was a passion.
Haley adored the sound of Leah's laughter. If only she knew exactly what to say to hear it whenever she wanted. "No," the shorter woman assured the blonde, stifling her amusement. "We're going to Grampleton tomorrow. It's not exactly a romantic getaway or a trip to the city."
Lips protruding in a pout, Haley expressed her disappointment with a huff. "Grampleton?!" She flopped onto her bed, her curly hair fanning out around her on the sheets. "It's just another tiny town in the middle of nowhere!"
Leah sat on the edge of the bed beside her and offered Haley a sympathetic pat on her knee. "Does that mean you don't want to go anymore?"
"I never said that!" Haley was suddenly worried that Leah would change her mind because of her negativity. "I still want to go out on a date," she insisted, caressing her girlfriend's arm. "Even if only, like, three people will be there to appreciate how great we look."
A smile briefly graced Leah's mouth. "It might be better to start out somewhere closer to home and with fewer people anyway," Leah shrugged, her lips stretching thin in a downward curve. "It's safer."
Haley's face pinched inward. "What's that supposed to mean?" Was Leah embarrassed to be with her? Maybe Leah was getting cold feet with the upcoming brunch with her parents. They loved Kel, after all.
Leah averted her gaze, choosing instead to stare at the floorboards. "I just mean that it might be easier to ease you into being in a same-sex relationship in a public space, that's all. It doesn't happen a lot, but people can be huge assholes."
Haley's jaw clenched as Leah's grey eyes flickered back to her. "I'm just worried you'll decide it's not worth the hassle and harassment to be with me," Leah confessed sheepishly.
The blonde scooted closer to her girlfriend and wrapped her body around Leah. "We're going to be a power couple that even gross neckbeards won't mess with," she proclaimed. Haley pressed her lips to the red head's cheek. "So, quit worrying about that and let's focus on what kinds of desserts your parents like. Maybe I can bake them something to give them at brunch to butter them up?"
"Your baked goods are delicious," Leah agreed, leaning her head to rest on Haley.
Haley kissed her and the tension from her partner's muscles melted away under her touch. The ability to make Leah's troubles disappear, even temporarily, made the blonde euphoric and powerful. "Just like you," Haley added with a grin.
