Silvan Sisters: The Hunt

Chapter 8

Early sunrise brings a rustling in the kitchen. With the sun not up yet, Sara can not imagine what would make such a racket. She comes inside to see everything taken out of the ice chest. The noise brought Serena out of her room as well and the two look at each other.
      From the corner of her eye, she sees Charlie remove a block of ice and take it to the table. The priestess walks over to look inside. The now empty chest results in him picking her up and set her on the table as well before heading back to his room. The sisters stare at each other, bewildered. With sleep no longer an option, they wordlessly go about storing the food.
     The sun shines its golden hue by the crone they finish. Furious, Sara sits on the porch inspecting her daggers. Lethal drops from the trees. Unfazed by his sudden appearance, she continues as he sits down beside her. "Come to see how the other side lives," she mocks. Saying nothing, he removes a dagger from his belt and hands it to her, disappearing as fast as he came. Sara shrugs and goes back to sorting her blades.
      Serena waters her plants when she sees the mercenary leave. Thinking little of it, she goes to Charlie's room to find him lying on the mat asleep. Like before, he curls to fit. Unlike last night, her sympathy turns to annoyance. She kicks the pad hard to wake him. "What did I do?" comes his startled reply.
      Crossing her arms over her chest, she responds, "Well, I am surprised you know you did anything, what with you sleeping all innocently."
     He expected to hear his mother's voice so the foreign tone confuses him. The memory of who belongs to that voice brings him to sit up on the mat with his head down. "So, what did I do," he asks, disheartened.
      The priestess tells him it took her and Sara half the night to right ice chest, seeing Charlie hang his head in defeat.
     He knows the empty ice chest came from skipping the setting meal. For as long as he can remember, walking in his sleep brought him ridicule and pain. Telling the priestess about his habit, Charlie hopes this does not mean they will refuse to train him.
     "What do your parents do to keep you from wandering off?" Charlie removes the rope from under the bed. "They tie you up?" The shock in her voice brings him to nod. "Charlie, wandering into the forest is dangerous, but being tied takes you out of the game entirely. What if the camp gets attacked? You would not be able to defend yourself. We would need to worry about your well-being while trying not to hurt ourselves," she declares, sitting down beside him.
     He can not bring himself to look at her. Her following silence makes everything worse. Charlie wishes she would just tell him to pack up and leave, forget about ever being a hunter; that it would be better for everyone if he remained in his parent's shop.
     Getting up, he trips on the rope wrapped around the leg of the bed. The leg of the frame breaks, and his pants rip down the seam as he falls. "I think we solved your tripping problem," Serena states. "Hard to move when your pants are too tight." He looks at her sadly. "It is a simple fix," she assures him.
     "I just want to pack my things and go," he tells her.
     The priestess pulls back, "Go where?"
     "You said yourself, it is dangerous for me to hunt."
     "I said, I did not want to tie you in the forest. And yes, sleepwalking is dangerous, but that goes for in the village as well. It does not mean you need to leave." She pauses as hope fills him. "I have an idea that should help, but you must stay here until I figure out some pants for you." Serena gets up, leaving him staring after her.

-

His mother stands at the door, opening the shop, when Serena arrives. "What brings you by this early, hunny?" she asks.
     "Do you by chance have any pants for your son? He seems to be ripping out of his," the maid responds.
     "Oh, my! Yes, I do have something, just a grain." She finishes unlocking the door and takes Serena inside. Going behind the counter, she hands her a pair of tanned pants. "This should work."
     Serena looks around, "Do you have at least one more? His other pair seem little much better. He got hurt in the field where he could not move properly."
     "Is he alright," the mother asks, concern etching her face.
     "Not to worry, mother. He is fine. It was nothing I could not heal," Serena assures her.
      Relieved by the priestess' words, she scans the shop thoughtfully. "I might carry something if you give me a turn to look."
      "My earns require another stop before heading home. I can swing back to pick them up." Laying the pair down on the counter, she adds, "I could use a large bolt of leather if it is not too much, Mother Ashwood." She nods as Serena leaves.
      With one problem solved, it leaves one more to go. The priestess, determined to see this through, makes her way to the far side of town. Charlie came to hunt, and she will see he does.
     After the washing, her head filled with thoughts and possibilities. Not the least of which, how he protected her. If he did that on instinct alone, training would see him in the elite before the crone grows old. Charlie was born for this life, and as a hunter, she can not allow his calling unanswered.
     Not many find a need for the slightly overgrown path. Only those with ailments requiring more than a healer's help, or the aspiring elf on a quest for knowledge, seek this place. It would seem few find themselves troubled with those burdens, and the lack makes following the path difficult.
     A turn of walking brings her to an old, twisted, and menacing-looking tree, standing alone in a small clearing. No houses exist around these parts, and the raised paths long since came to an end a half turn back. Standing in front of the strange tree, the priestess waits.
     Suddenly, an extremely old elf materializes in front of her. His crooked appearance and small frame make him look frail. Yet, the priestess knows his looks deceive. The flick of a wrist would see everything around him wither and die. In the same way, a nod could create an oasis. With his arrival from nowhere of little consequence, she states her reason for seeking him out. "I have need of your expertise."
     "Mine," he croaks. His voice squeaks as he tries to use it.
     "The service of one fluent in issues of sleep," she tells him.
     "What kind of issues?" He looks at her curiously.
     "Sleepwalking," she states matter-of-factly.
     He nods to consider her request. When he speaks again, his words come slowly as though he needs to think about how to form each one. "Master Lomri will arrive after sunpeak. Come back then with the one troubled with this affliction. He should offer the help you require."
     "Thank you, Master Magick." The priestess calls as she picks her way back through the path.
     Mother Ashwood delivers everything she asked when she makes it to the post. "How much do I owe you, mother," inquires the priestess.
     She waves her off. "Oh, please, call me Irene," her tone a playful annoyance. "You took in my boy and gave him a chance at his dream. This is on me." Serena tries to protest, but she hears none of it, instead, handing her some thread to go with the leather.
     "Thank you, mother," the maid says as she turns to take the items home.
     "Irene dear, I insist."
     "Thank you, Irene."
     "You are most welcome."
     Charlie's stomach, protesting a lack of food, sees him curled on his mat, trying to sleep away the ache. With the state of his clothes, leaving the room feels uncomfortable where each movement tears the rip further. Even his other pair proved weak in its stitching. The only items he owned that seemed to fit were the work clothes he returned. His size saw the cost too great where it would leave a whore's mouth empty.
     Numb to the reflections of his life, a tickle on his skin brings him to brush it off. When it persists, he turns toward it with thoughts of removing the offending object. Red fur with streaks of blonde come into focus as his eye adjust to the visitor.
      A yelp brings the fox to jump out the open window, leaving behind a cache of nuts and berries in a sack. Charlie devours the snack brought by his unlikely friend long before the priestess returns.
     With the leather placed at her workstation, Serena knocks on the door to his room. Before he can answer she steps in. "It is better you get used to it. I expect to see more of you as injury presents." His face losing the little color it contains earns a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Charlie," she coos. "As a healer, it is my job to see the team fit for hunting. Anything you would go to the clinic for, you come to me now." Watching her go, he sits there thinking about the many things he may need the clinic for. The thought of Serena performing his exam yields some concerns.
      When Charlie comes out wearing the new pair, the priestess looks him over as she makes note of problems that require attention. Telling him to eat quickly and get ready to leave, she grabs some seed from the bird feeder out the kitchen window and puts it in her pocket. Not sure where she plans on taking him, he still feels grateful for her commitment to keeping him around.