Chapter Text
It’s late afternoon, the birds sing somberly, as if they too are burdened with their existence. The wooden wall towers over, oppressive and claustrophobic.
I sit panting below it, wiping the sweat from my brow as I stare up at the house I just built. It’s nice, according to Quinn. I would hope so after their diasappointed gaze at the start.
I had intended to just have stone walls, which I had luckily found a relatively in good shape stone box with only minor patchwork required. But when I began setting up in there, Quinn’s face fell; dissappoinment.
So I studied what the town members did, and copied their style, adding a wooden level atop the stone box. Quinn seemed happier so I finished the house.
I pull myself up and grab a change of clothes before beginning to head out to the river, when I’m stopped by Quinn.
“Hi!”
“..Hello.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the river. I should bathe.”
Quinn squeals, “Can I come? Please please please! I want to wash off too but I’m scared to do it in the wilderness!”
I blush and nod dazedly, because what kind of question was that?! This strange person is going to be the death of me!
————
Cold water refreshes my senses and I inhale deeply. It’s a calming respite, but I can hear my partner shivering from behind me.
We stand waist deep in a sheltered and quiet river. It’s been near silence since we arrived. Other than the maneuvering of foliage to properly have privacy, the discussion of how to proceed, and then Quinn’s soft gasp when we stepped in.
I finish before she does, and step out. I hiss through my clenched teeth as the cold air engulfes my wet form and hurriedly grab my towel to dry myself off. I refrain from glancing back to check on Quinn because they’re fine. I don’t need to check on them every 5 seconds like my gut tells me to. Because I won’t turn around to her being gone. I can hear her teeth chattering, I can smell her flowery perfume, dulled now because of water.
Pulling my pants on, and wrapping the towel around my torso to let my hair air dry, I set to work on making a fire. They’re shivering and I feel bad to let her suffer.
It takes a while to gather the wood and start the fire, and by the time I get it going, they’re stepping out of the water and drying off.
————
It’s quiet, other than her calm breaths and the crackling of the fire. I’m staring at Mother’s locket, reflecting the fire and twisting it beautifully across the dark obsidian.
“Hey Sundrop?”, Quinn says quietly.
“Ye- wait what? Sundrop?,” I splutter, confused.
She giggles, “Well, ‘Two‘ isn’t much of a name, so I think Sundrop fits. Until you tell me your real name.“
“That is- How do you know that’s not my real name?“
“You just said it’s not,“ she counters with a sly grin.
I splutter for a few seconds, before shaking it off, “What were you going to ask?”
She stares at my hands for a moment, “That locket…,” I tense, “It’s really pretty, where’d you get it?”
“Oh- um…well it was my mothers..”
“I’m sorry.”
“…for what? Did you do something?,” I ask in confusion.
“Well you said it kinda sad, so I assumed she- you know-“ Quinn proceeds to make very strange gestures, as if they were trying to choke herself or something.
“Are you alright..? Did you eat those berries I told you not to? Are you having a seizure?!”
She pauses and regards me for a moment, as if im a puzzle they can’t solve, before shaking her head, “I was implying death.”
“Oh”
I ponder this for a moment, before commenting, “Well that’s not very accurate to how someone would die from being choked.”
Her face contorts into mild befuddlement mixed with concern, but I ignore it, turning back to the fire.
“She is dead though. No reason to feel sorry, it was a while ago.”
Things go quiet between us for a while again, before their voice pulls me out of my musings.
“Mine did too.”
I give her a questioning look before she replies, “My mom- and my dad- they both died.”
“Oh. I’m…sorry for your loss.”
She shakes her head with a quiet, melancholic chuckle, “It’s fine, I don’t remember them.”
“…”
I observe her for a moment, her beauty somehow shining even brighter in her sadness. The tears welling up in their eyes alighting her crystalline eyes with a thousand different violet hues, rough and delicate at the same time. Her rosy cheeks, blotted with perfection and grace, are downturned in a small, but no less heartbreaking, frown.
It makes me want to see them cry a thousand more times, just to experience the beauty. Yet at the same time, my heart is ripping itself out from its set place, leaving a gaping and gasping hole of pain at the thought of them feeling blue. I feel I would and could last that pain every time, just to see it. I would even put my heart back in the same place, to properly experience it.
“You’re crying.”
I watch, transfixed, as she swipes a delicate finger across their cheek to collect their tears.
“Oh.” She sniffles. “Sorry. It’s just- ugh- I know it sounds stupid- and- and you’ll think I’m selfish- but I miss them. I wish I had someone to be there, like, as a parent for me, but I didn’t get that-“ they rub furiously at their face to remove the tears, before they wipe her hands off and gives a long-suffering sigh that melts into a soft groan, “Ugh- I always do this! Tearing up over stupid thoughts. Sorry to just dump all of that on you.”
I finally find my voice and speak up, “No- No, it’s fine. That’s…justified. Do you- uh- mind telling me how they died?”
“Oh it’s quite tragic. Befitting I suppose.” She tilts their head and leans back, enjoying the soft, midafternoon light. “I should give you a bit of background for it to make sense.” Then, with an air of somber amusement, she began the tragic tale.
“My parents were quite famous actors, making several appearances to famous people, and even going all the way to America to do a show on broadway.”
Before I can ask what a “Broadway” is, and what a “show” is, she moves on. “Naturally when news got out they had a child, people were ecstatic to hear about the Braveheart’s legacy. I was the center of a few papers. My upbringing was to be splendid. And with much tears and fanfare, my parents decided to do a tour of shows, with one final show being at the biggest theater in London, before retiring indefinitely until I was older. It was a large crowd, that final show, and my parents were lively, greeting people, and addressing press. But-“
There is a pregnant pause, she looks as if she’s about to tell the twist of the story.
“At the end of the show, my mother was waving goodbye to my father on stage, some love story I don’t remember the name of, when, smash, a hanging decoration above the stage falls, its rope having been snapped, right onto my mother. She died in my father’s arms.”
And as if it wasn’t crazy enough, she keeps going.
“My father leapt up, and reportedly resembled a mad man as he yelled for a knife. No one thought to refuse him, and quickly a knife was thrust in his hands, upon whence he stabbed himself in the heart and died next to my mother.”
I stare at her for a moment before hesitantly asking, “And what of you?”
They shrug, “I was put into an orphanage, where I’ve lived my entire life since.”
I nod, “Makes sense. A place for orphans.. intriguing… Well, we should head back now. I heard something about a house ranking..”
She nods slowly and we start back to Oakhurst.
——————
When we arrive back we’re immediately hounded by Avid and other concerned, and some annoyed, members of the town.
Avid exclaims in worry, “Where have you been?!”, whilst shaking me vigorously.
I, of course, can’t make much more than strangled noises. Legundo places a hand on Avid’s shoulder and stills his arm.
“Please,” His calming voice trying to soothe over the apparent tension within the other townspeople, “She is completely fine, as is Quinn, quit shaking her, she looks ill enough as it is.“
I rub my neck as Avid sheepishly lets go with an apology, looking away I grumble at the ‘ill’ comment.
Quinn butts in, voice betraying my own confusion, “We’ve just been down at a river for the morning, what’s wrong?“
“See?“, Legundo sighs, “They’re completely fine. While I don’t normally encourage children to wander alone in forests overrun by wildlife,“ he pauses to look at us disapprovingly, “It is not grounds to freak out, and it certainly does not mean they were murdered, eaten by werewolves, or attacked by vampires.“ The last two points he made while staring unamusedly at Shelby and Avid.
While I’m still not sure what a vampire is, and I’ve never heard of a werewolf before, perhaps it’s a species of wolf native to the area…, I do know that the people here are for sure crazy now.
—————
I sat out of the house judging contest, there was far too many people. Instead I decided to go mining. My pickaxe provides a repetitive thunk to accompany my thoughts, which are interrupted by nearly in-audible footsteps.
I turn to find a tall brown haired man, staring down at me, he seems surprised I noticed him, and I can see malice hidden behind carefully dull eyes.
We regard each other for a moment, before he speaks up, “Two, yes?“
I nod, “Who are you?“
“Owen.”
I hum, watching him for a moment, before he speaks up again, “You’re mining, yes?”
I look down at my dust covered hands, and the bag of ores and crystals I’ve dug up, and am tempted to say no, but I humor him instead, “Yes, are you here to mine too?“
He nods, but I can tell he is lying.
We mine together for a while, but separate after we finish, I head back to the house, lugging the heavy bag of the fruits of my labors through the woods.
When I get back to the house, Quinn is waiting for me. She greets me with an almost hug, before remembering I don’t like hugs and apologizing.
“Soo, I’ve been planning, and you seem pretty good with your hands, so I was wondering if you could make some furniture to make this really feel like a home?“
I look around, before shrugging, “Whatever you want.“
They squeal in excitement before turning to their notebook and mumbling continuously. I decide it’s best to leave her be for a while.
Heading outside I bring out some tools I was given and pieces of lumber. Setting to work, I carve out the pieces for a bed frame, a decently sized one, waste not want not as they say, and I don’t need to waste resources on an extra bed frame.
After hours of working I have most of it built, but get stopped by the sound of footsteps approaching. It’s a large group of the townsfolk, Owen at the forefront.
He opens his mouth to speak but Cleo cuts him off before he can, saying “We’re going out to search for more books, would you and Diana like to join?”
I tilt my head, “That’s an awfully big group, we’ll attract predators.”
Shelby nods, “That’s why we’re splitting up!” She gestures to Owen, Avid, Sausage and a couple others, and then at her, Cleo, Pearl, and Drift.
“Oh,” I pause and glance in the house to see Diana sleeping on the floor, before turning back, “She’s busy, Thank you for the offer but I will-“ and I hesitate, idea coming to mind, book gathering, I could bring her a book, she was wanting one and it would protect her…“Come with you! Yes, I’ll go, just need to make sure Diana knows.”
After stepping inside and pulling a blanket around them, I write a quick note explaining where I’ve gone. I step out and join Cleo’s group, and we set out into the forest.