Eris Vanserra Fanfiction-A Land Of Lavender And Thistle-Book One

CHAPTER I

Ruth

Stepping out on the porch, the wood creaked under my boots as I squirmed at the clouded sky. I scowled when I noticed the dark clouds at the northern horizon, the rain already thick in the air.

So much for the first day of spring.

I began to pull the door close, when something shoved itself between my legs, ruffling the black skirt of my dress. Turning, I looked down the several wooden stairs, to the white-gray wolfdog sitting at the bottom of the porch, one blue eye pointed at me in silent request. I chuckled and descended the stairs, crouching and scratching the ear above his blind left eye, the fur sparing the stripe of flesh that crossed it.

"You know you can't go with me, Brux," I told him. "The villagers don't like a wolfdog posing a threat in their lovely village." I finished bitterly and he huffed in agreement. "Go now. In the house."

Locking the door once Brux pranced inside, I stalked past the garden divided at both sides of the cottage. Flowers were already growing, a couple of them in full bloom. Lifting my hand, I grazed my fingers over the petals of a dahlia thriving alongside the fence. The chirping of birds was carried by the morning wind as a pair of doves soared above my head.

Not ten minutes later, I left my cottage and the thicket surrounding it behind me and entered the village. It didn't appear much different from what it looked like weeks prior, when frost layered the muddy ground and people struggled to find food to feed their families. Reaching into my satchel, I dug out a piece of paper with scribbled words on its crumpled, yellowish surface. Reading the list of items I needed to find, I cast the filthy road in front of me a hopeless look.

Warren, my best friend and a man of too many thoughts, came to my cottage yesterday and begged me to buy him these couple of things, promising a strawberry cake as my reward. I agreed, of course, knowing damn well he didn't have the skill nor the ingredients to make me a strawberry cake. But I appreciated the effort.

Once I bought the handful of things I needed for myself, I began to scout for the starch powder, gauge and the rest of things I was certain our joke of a market didn't have.

The sun was already halfway up and barely visible through the clouds, when I finished searching through the entire market. I even went so far as to visit a few of older hunters I suspected might have the remaining three things from Warren's list. 

There was nothing more I could do.

So, with my satchel heavy on my shoulder, I headed south for the old and nonfunctional mill. Yet, despite spending probably a good amount of decades at the rim of an empty stream, it was still capable enough to release the smoke from its chimney. Standing on the dirty and grassy ground, the mill was a two-story construction with small windows and dark wooden walls.

Not bothering to knock, I welcomed myself inside, almost colliding with a tray of hot bread and its carrier. Giselle yelped, then smiled at me once she steadied the tray in her hands.

"Ruth! I'm so glad to see you." she said, her bur accent floating through the space as the daylight mixed with the fiery sheen from the hearth across the spacious room.

"It's good to see you, too, Giselle."

She placed the tray on the table, its mesmerising scent making my stomach greedy. Giselle threw the rugs previously shielding her snow-white hands from getting burned beside the tray, saying, "I told you, Ruth, call me Gisa."

I met her pretty, slanted hazel eyes and smiled lightly. "If you say so," I glanced at the spiraling staircase and asked, "Where is Warren? I bought the things he–"

I was cut off by an explosion from the level above, the sound followed by a familiar shout of victory. But, there was nothing pleased or excited on either of our faces as Giselle and I ran up the stairs, black smoke coming to greet us.

Coughing, we covered our faces halfway and began to call for Warren, right when he stepped out of the smoke, waving a hand and grinning like a child who just had his long since wish come true.

"I did it! I'm a genius. A genius!" he cheered, his usually blond hair stained black, soot smeared across his face as he removed his handmade goggles, leaving circles of ivory skin in its stead. Giselle and I stared at him as he laughed. "I can't believe it. It works. I did it!"

"What? To burn this place down?" I retorted, catching my breath as the smoke slid out when Giselle opened a window.

Warren did not answer me. He didn't even appear to have remotely heard my question. "Did you buy the things I asked for?"

"Yes, but–"

"Excellent!"

Warren snatched my satchel and vanished into the remaining mist of inkiness as Giselle came to stand beside me.

"He is my best friend. He's like a brother to me and I have learned to live with his delighted moments like these over the years." I said to her, "But, you're his wife. How do you handle his genius pleasure?" I asked, flicking a hand at Warren's latest mess for emphasis.

Giselle kept gazing in the direction of where his silhouette could be glimpsed, a dreamy look in her eye and a bland smile on her mouth. "He is the best thing that's happened to me ever since I left the continent. I can't imagine my life with anyone else, no matter how reckless he can be with his experiments."

She started down the stairs and I leaned against the wall beside the window, watching Giselle as she made her way down. A small smile tugged at my lips.

I remembered Warren from three years ago, when we chewed the freshly picked apples and discussed what our futures might be like.

He told me he would stay here, in the mill, with no one but his inventions to keep him company. He said nobody would want someone as strange as him, and that he was all right with that. I knew that, deep inside, it was a lie he told himself to cope - I had several lies like those myself. But, I also knew that it was a lie because Warren wasn't someone who couldn't be loved; he was just someone the world was yet to learn how to love.

And Giselle, as plain and sweet as she appeared, I believed someone who came from the wondrous continent to here, with such desperateness, couldn't be your average lady on the street.

A couple of hours after Warren's fiasco, with my belly content and full of Giselle's tasty bread and cheese, I approached the door. Warren pulled me into a hug, brief but strong, then raced up the stairs, back to his genius ideas. Giselle's eyes followed him and she giggled before facing me. I smiled in farewell and made to stride out of the mill, when she called my name.

"Thank you for coming. It is always a pleasure to have you." she said.

"The pleasure is all mine," I paused, then added, "Warren is lucky to have you as his wife, Gisa. To have you in his life in general."

Red bloomed across her cheeks, a broad smile curving her lips as she tucked a strand of middle-length brown hair behind an ear. "He is lucky to have you, as well, Ruth."

I didn't know how to answer that, so I waved and left. As I ventured between the trees back to my cottage, listening to the singing of birds, I failed to get rid of the doubt and discomfort caused by Giselle's words.