Chapter Text
I know you’re leaving, Nav. I’m not here to stop you. I have something for you, from your mother. Don’t open it now. She told me to tell you: “After you’ve met your father, and you realize nothing he can give you is worth a damn, you can open this.” If you’re gonna follow directions once in your entire life, let it be for that. She might haunt you, otherwise.
Gideon felt like her soul was barely clinging to her body.
She sat in a small but lavishly appointed office, in a nice chair and with a nice computer, staring at a spreadsheet. Three rows were highlighted red by the equations. Each represented an employee on her block that had dropped below the productivity threshold for termination.
As their manager, it would be Gideon’s job to fire them.
She knew those three guys; at least, she knew them as well they’d allow her to. Her subordinates and peers alike held her at arm’s length, on account of her father literally being John Gaius, CEO of JoGa Mart. Still, she knew enough about them to know exactly why their productivity had dropped. Scott had just become a father and was getting no sleep. Darren was going through a bad breakup. Oskar was dealing with his family being shitty about his coming out as trans. Was that any reason to fire them?
Gideon wanted to scream “Hell no,” but it wasn’t her choice to make. It wasn’t her choice, but she had to tell them anyway.
God. When her estranged father had finally learned about her three years ago, saving her from the shithole death cult in shithole Drearburh, and it had turned out to be John Fucking Gaius, it had been like a childhood dream coming true. She’d be someone important. She’d have power, respect, money. She’d be everything Harrow always said she couldn’t be.
She’d been completely fine with John’s alleged plan for her to “work her way up.” Gideon wanted to prove herself as much as anything else. She’d start as middle management (with some perks, of course, none of the other managers at that level had nearly as nice of an office) and gradually work up the totem pole.
She hadn’t counted on the spiritual rending each time she had to look someone in the eyes and fire them for no good reason. She hadn’t counted on John leaving her to rot there for three fucking years, like he’d completely forgotten she existed.
Gideon closed her eyes. She shivered in her comfy seat, though the office was warm. A tear rolled down her cheek.
What the hell am I doing here?
What did the fancy office matter when she was cut off from everyone else? When she felt more alone than she’d even felt in Drearburh? At least then she’d had Harrow’s attention, for what little that was worth.
You did the impossible, Dad. You made me miss Harrow.
Aiglamene’s parting gift to Gideon, and the instructions that came with it, rose unbidden to the front of her mind. She threw open a couple drawers, looking for the sealed envelope. She found it under some “finance” magazines she kept for lunch break reading (She really did read the articles, damn it!).
If she’d ever realized that none of John’s “gifts” were worth a damn, it was now. She tore the envelope open and pulled out several folded sheets of paper, some of which were quite thick. One was—
Gideon froze and blinked at the document. What? Is this… a fucking land deed?
It certainly looked like one, for a farmhouse and a nine acre plot of land somewhere called Canaan Valley. Some of the other sheets looked to be insurance and tax records for the same property. Tucked among them, she found a sheet of notebook paper, inscribed with red ink in a hand she didn’t recognize.
Gideon,
If you followed my instructions, then you’re reading this knowing that your father gives hollow promises. You know you’ll never find meaning in trying to please him, and you know you need to get away from him. You need a change.
Enclosed is the deed to the Nav Farm. It once belonged to my mother. I neglected it after she passed, so it’s probably overgrown to high hell. I always meant to go back one day, try to fix the place up.
I never got that chance; they don’t expect me to survive much longer. Maybe you can do what I might’ve done, if I’d lived. Maybe that will give you purpose when you really need it.
Good luck, kid.
-Wake
P.S. If Aiglamene is somehow still alive, tell the old bitch hello from me, will you?
Gideon’s eyes lingered on the signature. Her mother’s signature. All she’d ever had of her mother until now was the grave behind the convent.
It was a big decision, with big consequences. She should have taken some time to carefully consider it.
She should have, but she didn’t. With a swagger in her stride and a YOLO in her heart, Gideon clutched the deed to her chest and left the office, not bothering to leave a note or say anything to anyone.
The bus ride to Canaan Valley was a scenic one, which almost made up for the absolutely vile man in the driver’s seat.
He sneered at Gideon from the moment he laid eyes on her, looking like he’d found a dead bug in his prune juice. Crux, as his name tag declared him, only seemed to get more sour every time Gideon opened her mouth to ask him a question about the Valley. Or to make crass jokes, which might not have flown on a public city bus, but they were literally the only two people here and my god was she bored.
Not that the rolling hills and mountains weren’t beautiful, but they started to blur together after hours of travel. She tried to focus on them again after Crux refused to admit that a joke about his mom was funny. If nothing else, there was more green here than she’d ever seen in her life. Canaan Valley itself was said to be even more beautiful, a little slice of nature carved into the ranges of the southern coast. It was certainly far from the depressing cult town of Drearburh, and the urban hellscape of Mithraeum.
Supposedly, from what little Gideon had managed to learn about the Valley from a quick search, there was a settlement next to Nav Farm that barely had enough people to be called a hamlet, much less a town. A community that small had to be tight knit. Maybe she’d be able to find a place there. If not, well, at least she’d be working outside and with her hands instead of stuck in an office.
Eventually, finally, Crux brought the bus to a halt along a short stretch of road that led past the hamlet in question. One person was waiting for her at the small bus stop, a brown-skinned woman with tight braids and a professional demeanor. “Hello,” the woman said as Gideon stepped off the bus, trunk in hand. “You must be Gideon Nav? Is that all you brought?”
“Yes and yes,” Gideon said, shrugging as she set the trunk down and extended its handle; she’d installed the wheels on the bottom herself. “Always been a minimalist, I guess.” Wanting to make a good first impression, she hesitantly offered her hand to shake.
The woman’s grip was firm, and her shake was crisp. “Judith Deuteros, former Cohort captain, now town carpenter. The mayor asked me to wait for you and show you to the Nav Farm. He’s getting some things set up at the old farmhouse for you.”
“Awesome. Lead the way, Cap.”
Judith betrayed no reaction to being called Cap, but merely turned on her heel as if turning in parade formation, and walked briskly down the path away from the hamlet. Well, shit, okay. She’d had a few trademark Nav flirts on her lips, but decided to withhold them and pray the rest of the town dating pool wasn’t so… serious.
Of course, the prospects of that didn’t go up with the second person she met: the healthiest looking old man she’d ever seen. He was walking out the door of an old farmhouse that had definitely seen better days, grinning at her like she was the second coming. “Gideon! Our new farmer! Welcome, welcome to Canaan Valley! I’m Mayor Teacher.”
“Mayor Teacher?” Gideon said, blinking at him. “Do you have two jobs instead of a name?”
Judith raised an eyebrow, but Teacher just laughed. “Oh, it certainly can feel like it at times! Don’t mind me, I was taking the liberty of making sure the old farmhouse was ready for you. Getting utilities reconnected and functioning, that sort of thing.”
“So I’ve got a working toilet? Cool,” Gideon said, eyeing the farmhouse’s splintering wood and peeling paint. “Needs some work, huh?”
“Some things could stand to be updated soon,” Judith said. “No central heating and air, for one thing. I and my partner Marta can help you with things like that, once you’ve saved a bit. Or, hmm.” She took in Gideon’s shredded physique with a critical eye. “You seem the strong and resourceful type. Provide us the materials we need, and we’ll only charge you for the labor.”
“Certainly no shortage of those here,” Gideon muttered, looking out across her acres. Overgrown was an understatement; her land had practically become part of the forest it bordered. Pine, oak and maple trees grew amid waist high grasses, thick shrubs, fallen logs, and enormous rocks. The only clear bit that she could see was the small stretch of path that led from the bus stop to the farmhouse. There was no space to plant anything yet; not much of a farm at all.
“Don’t fret too much, child,” Teacher said with a good hearted laugh at seeing her expression. “There’s good soil under there! You have your work cut out for you, I’m sure, but a little love and Nav Farm will be shining again in no time. I sense you have a strong work ethic.”
Gideon, who had never full-ass worked a day in her life, did not correct him. “Well, I’ll get started on that tomorrow. For now I just need to… get settled, I think.”
“Of course, of course. The house is ready for you; the sheets are fresh, and there’s some cold meat sandwich ingredients in the fridge, courtesy of the town general store owners. Such a delightful pair they are, one of our two sets of twins! Remarkable, isn’t it, that a town so small would have two pairs of twins? But you’ll meet them in good time! Don’t feel the need to make introductions tonight, everyone will understand if you’d rather unpack and sleep after your long journey.”
God, Gideon could really use a simple cold meat sandwich and a fat nap. “Hell yeah. I’ll do the intro tour tomorrow once I recharge a bit. See if I can’t get some of those shrubs cleared away, get a little plot of something going.”
“I’ve left you some parsnip seeds inside!” Teacher beamed at her. “They’re very easy to care for, and mature quickly. A good starting place for a new farmer.”
“Really? Shit,” Gideon said, trying to play off how odd she felt that these strangers were already… doing things for her? Trying to make her feel welcome? What was the correct response to that? “Thanks, Teach.” God damn it, Nav, not that!
Luckily Teach just laughed. “Think nothing of it. We’ll get out of your hair now and let you get settled. Welcome again, Gideon! I really think you’ll love it here!”
“Have a good evening, Gideon,” Judith said with a polite nod. Gideon returned it. Hmm. Serious, but nice enough, and willing to cut deals; maybe Judith wasn’t a complete stick in the mud after all.
As they walked down the path back to the hamlet, Gideon hauled her trunk up the porch steps and to the front door. There wasn’t much in it; some clothes, a few random personal effects (read: her magazine collection) and her old greatsword. John had tried lavishing her with gifts and money when they met, but she’d left all that behind. If she was going to start over, it was going to be entirely on her own merits. He wouldn’t claim a single part of this new life.
Part of her did regret not taking some money as soon as she got inside the house. It was clean and functional enough, but it was also old and barely lived in. Colors were washed out, pipes were visible and rusting, and it all seemed a bit cramped. Aside from the bathroom, it was literally one big room, with a bed in one corner, a TV in another, and a fridge in yet another. The fridge seemed to be the only thing resembling a “kitchen.”
Well. Could be worse. At least it ain’t Drearburh.
On a stool beside the bed, Gideon found a package with a note from Teacher, containing the parsnip seeds he’d mentioned and a small collection of collapsible tools, including an axe, a pickaxe, a watering can, and a hoe (heh). The note simply said, “To help you get started.”
Fuck. Barely an hour in, and she was already feeling things. She wasn’t accustomed to kindness like that. Real kindness, not John’s vapid excuse for it.
Unwilling to process that just yet, Gideon let traveler’s fatigue claim her fully. Her trunk was abandoned by the door as she pitched face first into the bed. It wasn’t nearly as soft or big as the one in her apartment in Mithraeum.
This one was a gift from her mother, not her father. This one meant something. For the first time in what felt like forever, Gideon slept like the dead.