Chapter Six: Smoke

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The next morning Jorlin was awoken by her mother shaking her shoulder.

"Wake up! There's a huge mess downstairs from last night that you still need to clean up before we open."

Jorlin groaned; it was so early. "The blood isn't going to come off the floorboards," she stated groggily.

"You're going to try anyway," her mother said sternly as Jorlin sat up in bed. "Now scoot. You've got half an hour to get the downstairs in shape."

It took several minutes for her to be awake and in the bar. The sun hadn't even risen yet. First, she swept up the shards of the mug she had smashed over the soldier's head the day before, recalling the strength her rage had lent her. Then she got to work scrubbing the blood-stained floorboards, even though she knew it was a futile attempt. The stains faded somewhat, but it was still obvious they were there. When she was nearly done, her mother came down the stairs to inspect her work.

"These stains still look foul," she said, pointing to one with her shoe as Jorlin stacked the shelf behind the counter with mugs.

"I tried, but none of them came out," Jorlin muttered, struggling to keep her temper under control.

"You didn't try hard enough! I'm going to have to get the carpenter to replace these boards. I can't run a business with the place looking like this. You have five minutes to be either upstairs or out the door; opening time's approaching," her mother said before ascending the stairs.

Jorlin quickly ran into the kitchen once her mother was gone, grabbing a handful of bandages in the back and a couple loaves of bread. She didn't bother getting any meat; Tholan wouldn't have much trouble obtaining that. She snatched some vegetables, then put all the items in an empty potato sack. She headed out the door with the sack in her arms, hoping her parents wouldn't notice the slight lack of belongings.

It was colder than she expected, and Jorlin immediately regretted not bringing her cloak, but it was too late to go back inside without her mother scolding her. The dead leaves on the ground scuttled across the path, riding the wind as she set off at a jog. The air was cold and crisp. She slowed down to a walk when she entered the northern expanse of the woods where Tholan's tree stand was. At least, that's where it was when he showed her and Asher several years ago.

"I built this myself," Tholan had said, nineteen and headstrong, puffing out his chest. "I shoot deer from it, then skin 'em and eat 'em."

She and Asher were awed at the time, and for a while they looked up to Tholan, following him around like ducklings would their mother. When Asher came of age, he became

independent of Tholan, and Jorlin followed his example, she and Asher sparring loudly behind her house while Tholan silently hunted in the woods, growing more and more distant from the two.

That memory seemed like decades ago to Jorlin now as she strode under the canopy of autumn colors. She doubted that the tree stand even still existed, but if there was anywhere for her to look for him it was there. About twenty minutes passed, and the sun began to rise, throwing long, jagged shadows on the ground.

"You walk so loudly I could track you during a new moon," came a voice from ahead. "Well how do you expect me to walk with these leaves everywhere?" she retorted.

"Silently."

"That's impossible."

"No, not really."

Jorlin followed his voice to the same tree stand where she had been all those years ago. It was basically the same structure, but pieces of wood had been added to modify it and support the old ones underneath. It was almost invisible, as it had vines growing up the side and branches partially covering up the wooden sides. He had built a slanted roof over the basic floor of it so that there was a long, narrow opening going all the way along the side.

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