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“What’s all that noise?” Holly asks as she wanders into the main workroom of the tower she calls home. She had been in one of the adjacent rooms, trying to study and focus her attention on the thick and worn textbook in front of her, but she found it next to impossible with the loud clanging of metal accompanied by the tinny of distant shouts.
Holly finds Kati leaning against the stone windowsill, the wooden shutters spread open to let in the bright afternoon sunlight. Kati is hanging partially out the window, hands spread on the stone ledge, as she stares down at the grounds outside the tower. She pulls back when Holly speaks, withdrawing into the tower to glance at Holly over her shoulder.
“The army has arrived,” Kati says with a sigh as she steps back from the window. Her arms crossing in front of her chest, “They’re always so loud.”
Holly raises an eyebrow and moves pass Kati to the open window, peering down at the lush greenery that surrounds her fairly secluded tower. She wasn’t exactly trying to hide when she constructed her tower, but she wanted, no, needed to be a fair distance away from the main village. Now, her quiet sanctuary had been infiltrated by the rowdy group of warriors.
Holly didn’t have a lot of experience with warriors or the roving armies for hire. These men, these warriors weren’t dressed in the colors of the kingdom so they must be an independent group being brought in to fight on behalf of the king. She hadn’t been around many fighters but Holly has heard more than enough tales, enough stories to have her wary of the men training on the grounds near her home.
The warriors appear to be training, engaging in combat, swinging swords at each other and blocking with thick shields. They move with a power and fierceness that reminds Holly of animals. Kati was right, the men were certainly loud. How would she ever be able to concentrate on her studies with them battling outside her tower?
Holly is about to close the windows and work on figuring out a spell for silencing her tower when there is the loud sound of metal grating against stone. She sees a sword lying at the base of her tower.
“Look what you did!” A gruff voice shouts, “You better go and get that now!”
“Relax,” A second voice, calmer, and smooth like honey says. It sounds amused, “I’ll find your sword. Don’t get upset just because I’m kicking your ass.”
The voice draws closer but Holly can’t seem to make herself move or duck back into the tower. She hears the low rustle of the bushes and shrubs surrounding her tower in a semi-circle and then a large figure is emerging through the greenery and stepping into the enclosed circle of her tower, scanning for what Holly is guessing is the sword that she had spotted.
He's a tall man, a strong build, maybe a bit bulkier than what one might imagine an agile warrior looking like, but what he might lack in speed he looks like he could make up twice in muscle. His dark hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail and his leathery brown armor gleams warmly in the sun. The warrior spots the sword and he bends to grab at the silver handle. Holly watching him all the while. Then, almost as if he could feel her gaze or sense her presence, the man is looking up and Holly sucks in a sharp breath as their eyes meet.
His eyes are a deep brown and Holly isn’t sure what she expected upon him seeing her, but it isn’t the thoughtful look that seems to overtake him as he stares up at her. Holly should move, maybe hide, should at least shut the windows but she can’t and then the warrior smiles at her, something small and just a little strained, like it’s been a very long time since he’s smiled at all. And then he’s gone, pushing back through the green of the bushes to emerge on the other side and re-join his companions.
Holly watches him, eyes trained on his broad back as he retreats, his form becoming smaller and smaller. They had exchanged no words, but Holly can’t deny the interest she feels pooling in her stomach. He had spotted her but said nothing, did nothing. Had he not realized what she was? Perhaps mistaking her for a human? Perhaps he didn’t know any better.
Holly slinks into the tower, closing the wooden shutters before turning back to face Kati.
“Well, that was interesting.”
“What?” Kati asks, her hands dropping to her sides.
Holly runs fingers through her hair, “One of them saw me.”
“What?!” Kati asks, “Why didn’t you hide?”
“He did nothing but grab a sword and then depart.”
Kati shakes her head, her thick dark braid of hair swinging against her shoulders.
“Warriors like that are no good, trust me. Those men are all mindless brutes, fighting like dogs because they are following orders. Most have no clue what they are even fighting for, whether it be good or bad, they have no idea, Holly. They fight because that’s what they are told.”
Holly frowns but she can’t disagree. The tales she’s heard haven’t exactly painted warriors in a good light, more something to be avoided, to be quiet about until they finally decide to leave your village and move on for more gold or the next battle.
--
The warriors aren’t gone the next day, or the day after, and Holly spends the better part of a week studying the fighters. She may glance over the whole lot of them. Most of them are in near identical armor, the same warm brown, though some have mixed pieces as if they had to replace parts of their wear for better or for worse. Holly can say she is observing the men but instinctively her eyes find the warrior that had spotted her, that she had locked eyes with. Her gaze seeking him out and locked on him. He’s a good fighter, strong and a little faster than she had originally given him credit for. He seems powerful and to see him pretend to fight is almost like watching an intricate dance that Holly knows none of the steps for.
Today Kati is out of the tower, sneaking into the edges of town to collect their weekly supplies from the village bard, a kind and fairly charismatic man named Dan. That leaves Holly alone in the tower. She is reading, eyes focused on the words but ears pricked for any sign of Kati’s return. Suddenly a weak squawking of sorts pierces the silence and Holly’s heart jumps. She leaps up, abandoning her book and rushing down the spiral stone steps to the bottom of the tower, hastily slipping through the thin wooden door and following the noise.
“Oh no…” Holly says as she hears the weak sound of wings flapping. She follows the circle of her tower before she finds the beautiful caramel colored falcon moving weakly on the ground. Holly’s heart sinks. “Harold,” she says softly.
The falcon turns its head up to her. A dark smattering of blood pooling under the magnificent bird’s body. Holly drops to her knees scooping up the bird into her arms, thankful it isn’t so scared or that it doesn’t have enough strength to try to fight her.
“Hold on,” Holly says, straining to hold back angry tears, “I’ll help you.” She pets delicately at the bird’s head and it makes a soft noise in her hands.
Holly focuses, closes her eyes and calls forth the words buried inside of her, the power she was born with. Just as she focuses on the clean white light to heal the bird there is the sound of footsteps and Holly’s eyes open as she comes face to face with the same warrior as before.
Holly takes a step back, defensive, eyes hardening on him. “You?” She asks, “Did you do this to him?!”
“No,” the man says, his voice just as smooth, “A fox was attacking it. I heard the commotion and scared it away but the bird ran too. I was trying to find it to help it or…” the man trails off. If Holly thought he looked tall from the tower, he’s even bigger in person, tall and strong. His arms are thick and muscled, clad in the leather armor. Like this, he is intimidating, despite the softness in his eyes.
“I don’t have time to argue with you,” Holly says, focusing again on the quickly dying bird in her arms, “I’ve got to save him.”
“I don’t think-” the man starts.
But Holly tunes him out, focuses again and then she draws the clean bright power out of her, body and pushes it until it’s tangible between her palms until it sinks into Harold’s form. The warrior is watching her and she’s aware of his wide-eyed gaze, the light reflecting in his deep, dark eyes.
Harold begins squirming in Holly’s hands and she smiles, lifting her stained palm and seeing the wound that would have killed him now erased, healed by Holly’s magic.
“Harold,” Holly says quietly, “Please be more careful out there.” She presses a kiss to the bird’s head before setting him back on the ground. Harold flicks his wings once before he’s back in the air soaring like he had never been wounded at all.
With the bird gone from them that leaves Holly nothing to focus on except for the warrior. She’s scared, nerves filling up her stomach. She doesn’t want to have to fight him if he tries to attack.
“You’re a witch?” he whispers, voice low and quiet.
Holly levels him with a look. She brushes dust off the ends of her teal colored robes, “I’m a mage.”
The warrior doesn’t flinch as she tells him the truth about her. Mages aren’t accepted in the towns, looked down upon and feared by nearly everyone. The mages work in small units, sticking together and surviving in part by sympathizers, those willing to help, much like the bard that Kati had gone to meet.
“I’ve never met a mage,” the warrior says, his voice showing near awe.
Holly almost wants to smile at how child-like he sounds in this moment. Her defensives begin to drop. It’s been such a long time since anyone new has found out about her, has accepted her.
“I’ve always wanted to,” the man says, “I heard stories as a kid, you know, and then I thought with joining the pack I’d get to meet more people, but it never happened, you know, until now.”
Holly smiles, “I might not be as impressive as you’d hoped.”
“You’re better than I hoped. I just watched you save that bird’s life with magic.”
Holly let’s out a laugh, allowing herself a moment to take pride in her powers.
“What is your name, warrior?” she asks instead, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Arin,” he says, a smile playing across his handsome face, “I’m Arin.”
“Arin,” she repeats with a nod, his name suiting him and leaving her mouth with ease, “You aren’t planning on trying to capture me then, Arin?”
His deep eyes widen and he shakes his head, “No, why would I? You did nothing wrong.”
“Some people seem to think me even existing is enough of a crime,” Holly says, a frown overtaking her face as memories of having to run, having to leave a peaceful life because she was found out, fill her mind.
Holly feels a warm touch to her chin, strong fingers gently tipping her face up and she’s more than surprised to see Arin standing before her. His eyes are warm. He’s closer to her, but not uncomfortably, a space between them.
“Never feel bad for existing,” Arin says, a soft smile pulling at his face, “You are a beautiful and rare thing and those sorts of things should be protected and not harmed.”
Holly can feel herself smiling as Arin’s hand leaves her face.
“Thank you,” She breathes.
Arin steps back and he nods.
From the distance they can hear a voice calling out, “Hanson? Where in the bloody hell did you get off to?”
Arin looks back over his shoulder at the direction of the voice.
“I have to go.”
Holly nods though she can’t say she isn’t disappointed in his departure.
“Maybe our paths will cross again.”
Arin grins at her, boyish and sweet, “I hope so.”
And then he is gone, slipping back out to the field where the warriors train.
Holly stands there a long moment. Kati had said that warriors were brutes, were thoughtless dogs that kill because that’s all they know, but that wasn’t Arin. Not at all.