Chapter Text
When the stranger first arrived at Scott's village, Scott was not afraid like he should have been.
He was in the market when he first heard the rumors. The little kids who always caused such a ruckus were whispering about him, and Scott didn't blame them. They didn't often get newcomers this deep into the mountains. Very few people actually left their small town regularly either, and even then only went to the nearby villages, which were apparently just like theirs. So Scott had been told.
So the straw-blond stranger was an oddity as he led his horse through the crowd, leaving naught but questions in his wake.
There was a weariness on his shoulders, the bone tiredness of someone who had lived too much life in too short a span of time. His clothes were worn in places, and his horse was clearly not suited for the mountains, meaning that the pair had gone through quite a long journey. He seemed as perturbed as the townsfolk were, trying to navigate his way through until he stopped in front of Scott.
"'Cuse me," He said, in an extremely unfamiliar accent. "You don't happen to know where an inn is, do you? Or a stable?"
Scott's brow furrowed. There was no inn here, mostly because there were no visitors. "The stable's that way, but no inn."
The stranger cursed. "Is there any place to stay?" There was a pleading tone to the question, like his back was against the wall with nowhere to go.
Scott felt a pang of sympathy. He seemed so exhausted. So Scott impulsively did the life-changing decision he would both regret and do all over again. "I've got room in my home."
His face lit up. "Really?"
"Yeah," Scott replied. "I'm Scott, by the way. You don't mind that I'm a ways out?"
"Martyn, and I don't care how far out it is, I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Thanks."
"No problem. It's nice to meet you. I'll wait here." And as Martyn led his horse towards the nearby stable, Scott stood there and wondered what he had just done.
Scott was not lying about his house being far from the rest of town. His parents had been absolute recluses, and though he tried to be more outgoing, it could be hard when home was a half hour's trek away from the next living soul. The sheep were good company, though.
"Big home," Martyn commented as he entered the threshold.
"Yep," Scott said. "Just me, though." He tried to make the home feel less lifeless, but to be honest, it was hard with just him. His memories of his childhood were fuzzy at best, but he was pretty sure his house wasn't always like this. There had been people at the hearth once.
Despite being so out of the way, he might be the most equipped person in town to handle a guest.
"Thanks again for having me." Martyn said.
"Of course," Scott replied, busying himself with their coats and getting a fire started. He grabbed the rake and shoved some of the coals aside so he could coax a flame out of the new firewood. "So what brings you this deep into the mountains?"
"Oh, just the spirit of adventure and all that," Martyn waved the question away like he had answered it a million times. And if he really had ventured that far, maybe he had.
"Yeah, well this isn't exactly the 'spirit of adventure' out here," Scott responded.
"I dunno," Martyn leaned forward. "I mean, there's so many things to do, so many people to see!"
"What, looking for your soulmate?" Scott grinned. "I imagine it would be easy, given your mark."
Martyn froze and subconsciously brought his hand to his pulse point, where a small hourglass was inked into his skin. Everyone had a soulmark, and a soulmate to match, even if they hadn't met them. Some even had a gift that went with it, a blessing or a curse. Scott knew somebody in town who could see through the darkest night, and a blacksmith who could touch burning metal with their bare hands, but actual gifts were quite rare. Most people just had slightly heightened senses or could hold their breath a little longer than most.
Scott himself had a mark on the back of his neck that he liked to keep hidden under a braid or a bun. No point when he was never going to meet his other half anyways. They weren't in his town, and therefore weren't his concern. It would be romantic to meet them, though. His parents had found each other, so maybe someone like Martyn would come along and sweep him off his feet.
Apparently, his mark looked like an eclipse. His own private astronomical wonder.
Even people looking far and wide for their soulmates didn't come out this far, preferring to stick to less treacherous areas, where a king's word meant something. And far away from the borders of the Moon Kingdom. Nobody wanted on the wrong side of the Witch Queen, even Scott knew that.
"Nah," Martyn finally answered. "It's not worth it, in my opinion."
"I agree," Scott said, putting another log into the fire. "Anywhere you've seen so far?"
"I've only been to Dogwarts so far, but it's been very beautiful," Martyn explained. "And I thought I'd move a little closer to Moon, and while I was here, I thought I might as well visit the mountains. I've never heard anything about you guys and thought I might change that."
"How noble," Scott deadpanned. "Well, is the hospitality to your liking?"
"Oh, yes. Though your place might be my favorite so far."
"Thank you!" Scott gushed, laying it on a little thick, even if he was only saying that because Scott might kick him out if he were rude.
Martyn collapsed into an armchair. "I've had kind of a long day, do you mind if I take a nap for a little while?"
"Knock yourself out," Scott said. When he woke up, Scott would probably put him to work. There were a lot of things to be done, and it was nice to have someone around to help him do it.
While his new housemate snoozed away, Scott had things to do. He started by feeding the sheep, until he came to the annoying realization that he did not have enough food for them and would have to go back to market. As he looked up, he saw the clouds rolling in and knew exactly what that meant: an incoming blizzard. If he didn't go now, they might starve.
Scott ended up waking up Martyn in a very unceremonious fashion by poking him until he batted his hand away.
"'M awake" Martyn muttered, sitting up.
"I'm going back into town," Scott explained. "And I need an extra set of hands. Mind going with me?"
"Sure," Martyn pulled on his ill fitting coat and the two of them made their way back into town.
The hike was long, but they had missed the storm by a long while. They chatted a little as they walked, but Scott didn't learn that much more about Martyn. He had a talent for skirting around questions that Scott had to admire.
Scott had expected to be the main attraction today, what with his new friend. However, as he walked in, he realized that Martyn was not the only stranger in town.
The one on the left was almost drowning in his winter coat, though a strand of white hair was peeking out. His eyes were scanning the crowd, and Scott couldn't help but notice that one of their irises was red while the other was deepest brown.
The one on the right, by contrast, was in minimal winter clothing. His face was one of determination, his head swiveling left and right, the green streak in his hair bouncing up and down every time he did so.
They didn't seem to care that many of the locals were openly staring or pointing at them, they just pressed forward. Scott noticed their sheathed daggers, and the way they carried themselves. These were two experienced travelers on a mission.
"What's all the fuss about?" Martyn asked, leaning around Scott to get a better view.
"Two other newcomers," Scott answered. "We usually get one a year, not three in a day."
"Okay, that is a little strange," Martyn added, a little too hastily. "I don't know them, for the record."
"Okay good, I was just about to ask you that."
"Anyway, the food?"
The two of them exited the market with a whole stack each, making the trek back even more dangerous, since their hands were full. It didn't help that it had started to snow.
After the sheep were fed, the two of them ended up having dinner. Scott made it a little fancier than he usually did, since he did have company. Martyn for his part gave him compliments at the appropriate intervals and ate everything on his plate.
Scott was just about to ask Martyn where he wanted to sleep when he heard a knock at the door.
Slowly, he got up and opened it to reveal one of the strangers- the one with the red eye- standing in the doorway, looking awkward but determined. There was snow in his hair, as he had taken his hood off.
"Excuse me," He said, and Scott noticed that his cadence was new as well. "You don't happen to be Scott, do you?"
Scott was more than a little confused. He didn't know their names, how did they get his? Or better yet, why?
"I do," He said. "Do you want to come inside?"
Red eye nodded and Scott stepped aside to let him into the house. In the distance, he could hear something, but opted to ignore it. Probably just the sheep. "Care to introduce yourself?" Scott asked. He looked over at where Martyn had been, but found an empty space where he had just been. In fact, he only saw Martyn after he leaned over and saw him hiding behind a couch near the back door. He frantically made a shushing gesture, so Scott opted to stay silent.
So did he know these people? This whole situation was seeming more fishy by the minute.
Red eye shrugged. "Etho. I heard you have a friend here."
So, right to it, then. Not that Scott didn't appreciate a straightforward man, it was just rather sudden. From his hiding place, Martyn shook his head.
Scott smiled. "Nope! Just me here. The other guy decided to go somewhere else."
"Okay," Etho said, sounding more than a little skeptical. "Did he say where?"
"Nope!" Scott replied easily. "I must ask though, what's the fuss about?"
Etho winced. "He's a wanted man."
Scott felt himself groan internally. Great. So he was harboring a criminal. "Is he now?"
"Mhm. Me and my soulmate, we're here to finish the job," His eyes glinted, and Scott gave a nervous, involuntary laugh. "Direct orders from the king and everything."
See, that was interesting, and made sense why Martyn came all the way out here to hide. Though the northern mountains were technically under the domain of the Red King and Dogwarts, there were never any taxes. No lord to preside over them or shared culture to bond over. Hell, Scott was pretty sure he saw more soldiers from Moon than his own supposed liege lord.
"I'm sure you will," Scott grabbed a plate and some extra food. "In the meantime, do you feel like having dinner? I'm sure you've had a long journey."
It was half stall tactic, half truth. Martyn deserved a bit of a head start, and if he got caught on the way out, it was officially not Scott's problem. And he was sure that Etho would be kinder to him on a full stomach.
"Oh, I couldn't," Etho said in a tone that indicated that he, in fact, could.
"I insist!" Scott grabbed a plate and saw Martyn move from his hiding place to the nearby door. Realizing a split second too late that it was creaky, Scott made one final decision.
He let one of his feet catch the other, and he went tumbling onto the floor with a great crash. A crash that conveniently drew Etho's attention right as Martyn darted outside.
"Whoops!" Scott laughed and looked up at Etho. He had fallen flat on his face in front of the man, but making sure none of the food spilled onto him. His hair had gone everywhere, and he brushed it out of his face, exposing the back of his neck for a moment, which irritated him slightly. He stood up. "Well, I guess I'll prepare another plate."
"Hang on," Etho stood up suddenly.
"Is something wrong?" Scott asked, eyes darting toward the door before he could stop himself.
Etho walked right up to him. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to bring you in, too. Thanks for the dinner offer, though."
Scott froze and backed up until he hit the opposite wall. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing personal, I swear." Etho continued. He had a determined look on his face, one that told Scott that he was not going to be reasoned with.
Scott's mind was racing. Had he seen Martyn? What had changed Etho's mind? Why was he the new target? And what did 'nothing personal' mean?
From outside, he could hear more noises. Muffled shouts. A scuffle. And fortunately, Etho noticed it too.
At that moment, Scott made a decision. If he could not talk down, then he would have to fight back, and probably flee. Since he was attacking an agent of a king, he would probably have to flee. So, he took a breath, and grabbed the rake he reserved for sifting through coals, scooped out some of the still hot embers, and flung them right at Etho's face. And needless to say, he hit the mark.
The effect was immediate. Etho yelled in pain and his hands were covering his face. Scott grabbed the rake and rushed for the back door, opening it with an incredible amount of force.
He felt the door hit something, and realized that there was a person who had been right in front of the door. The other hunter. Martyn was standing near him, a cut dripping red down his cheek.
They both looked at each other and came to the same conclusion. "Run?" Scott asked.
"Run." Martyn agreed.