A Village of Beginnings (2)

Ein followed the other's gaze to where two figures slogged towards them; the tall, broad figure of his father and the smaller, waif-like figure of Evaine. Alend dragged an empty sled behind them.

"Evaine," Ein exclaimed, as she came to a halt. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?" she snapped. "This is my home. I don't need a reason to be here."

She nodded curtly at Bran and then stormed off towards the battered entrance to the house, braid swaying behind her. Ein and Bran looked towards Alend.

"She's a bit angry," he explained. "I told her she'd have to move elsewhere until either her parents woke or the house was repaired. It's too dangerous for a girl to be living alone so far out from the village, especially with dangerous beasts roaming about. Not to mention, she needs a new door as well."

"Where's she going to stay?" Ein asked.

"She'll be staying with us, at least until her mother or father wakes up. They can decide what to do after."

"Are you sure?" Ein watched Sanson carefully out of the corner of his eye. "Aren't Bran and Evaine betrothed?"

"It was Sanson himself who suggested it," Alend said. The butcher nodded, wiping his hands on his apron. "The Sutherland homestead is packed enough as it is. They don't have enough room to spare for another."

"Besides," Sanson added, "it wouldn't feel right having her sleep under the same roof as my Bran. He's not of age for another few weeks, after all. It'll only be for the next few days—the troupers are due in tonight, and once they're gone, Koth has kindly offered one of his rooms at the inn to the young Mistress."

Ein looked uncertainly at Bran, whose gaze was fixed on the floor. "If it's alright with everyone then, I guess.

"Sanson gave Alend a courteous nod before turning to leave, taking Bran with him. Bran murmured a quiet farewell over his shoulder.

"What are you trying to do?" Ein asked, once they were out of sight. "Evaine and I are close enough as it is. Poor Bran must be worried out of his mind that I'll try to take her from him."

"I tried my best, but Sanson insisted. Their house can definitely fit a third; I've seen it myself." He sighed. "The way he went about it, you'd almost think he was trying to hide something."

Before Ein could enquire further, Evaine emerged from the broken door carrying an armful of clothes. She stalked past the two to the sled, dumping them in an unruly heap.

"I'm going to see if I can salvage anything else from those sheep corpses," Alend said, unpacking a toolbox from his bag. "We might need to replace those arrows we dumped during the trip. Bone makes for decent arrowheads."

Ein nodded as his father made his way over to the field. Evaine passed by again, this time with a large trunk in her arms. She stopped halfway to the sled and glared at Ein.

"Aren't you going to help me?"

There was no sign of the vulnerable girl from the night before. Evaine was normally quite overbearing, but Ein had never seen her so irritable before. It was probably her way of dealing with the events of yesterday, so he kept quiet and made the wiser decision.

Ein and Bran walked home under the noonday clouds, taking turns dragging the sled behind them. Evaine skipped between the two, firing complaints and annoyed remarks at nobody in particular. She'd spent several hours scouring through the wreckage for things to take back, which seemed to have improved her mood—if only slightly.

"Felhaven's traditions are stupid," she said. "Why do I have to get married? I want to go adventuring as well. Don't you agree?"

Ein and Bran nodded, though it was clear on their faces that they didn't. It wasn't the first time Evaine had complained about the matter, and Ein suspected it was more to take her mind off her mother and father than anything else.

"I can't believe no one's ever tried to leave before," she continued. "Surely I can't be the only one who's sick of being a farmer. Every day is the same. There's never any excitement. Where are the dragons? The knights and the sword-fighting tournaments? The wizards casting thunderbolts from the sky? I don't want to live my whole life having never seen a city before."

"Those are all stories," Ein said. "My father says real life doesn't quite turn out like that. I can tell you for sure, sword-fights aren't at all what I imagined them to be." He rubbed his bruises absent-mindedly. Alend held nothing back during their fencing bouts.

"Still," Evaine said. "I want to at least experience something for myself. Remember when we used to run around playing pretend? Wasn't that so much more fun than doing chores?"

"Evaine… we were kids back then." Bran said. "We have to work and do our part for the village now."

Even though Evaine was the eldest of the three by a good half year, she didn't act like it. Perhaps it was because of how she'd been raised, the only daughter of an overprotective couple. She'd never been away on a hunt for days on end, never had to kill an animal with her own hands and stain herself with blood. Bran and Ein had spent many a night discussing the reasons behind her outlook on life and arrived at that conclusion. However, they didn't dare say it to her face, and they refused her requests to stow away on trips outside the village no matter how hard she begged. Valeesha would have them flogged, and Nath would skin them alive even if nothing happened to her.

Once, Ein had thought it to be unfair. There was no reason to refuse her if she wanted to join them. In fact, it would be safer if she ventured outside the village with others rather than by herself. That way at least, if anything happened they would be able to protect her.

Then, Alend had suggested taking Cinnamin on one of their expeditions. After that, he'd changed his mind.

Evaine folded her arms and pursed her lips. "I don't care," she huffed. "If none of you will take me away, I'll wait for some smooth-tongued traveler to whisk me off."

"You can't be serious," Ein sighed. He knitted his brows. The lack of sleep was starting to affect him. "We're in the middle of the Great Winter. Wyd help me, isn't there something else to complain about?"

Evaine paused and gave him a hard look. The hairs on the back of his neck rose.

"Ein's just worried about you," Bran cut in quickly. "And so am I. Evaine, your farm was just attacked a few nights ago. Surely it would be wiser to wait, at least until your parents are well again?"

Evaine sagged.

"I would," she said quietly. "But it won't be long before we're married, and once that happens I may as well be chained to the village."

Whatever Bran had been about to say was cut short. It was no common knowledge that he was the most tame of the three, even when they'd all been children. Ein couldn't see Bran leaving the village, not even if Hellheim plunged into winter. And once the two were married, Evaine wouldn't be able to leave either unless Bran left or she was content with being exiled from the village. Husbands and wives who disgraced their vows without good reason forfeited any right to live in Felhaven.

"Are those the troupers?" Ein asked, pointing into the distance.

Bran and Evaine looked towards Lake Felhaven, the words on the tips of their tongues forgotten. Beside it was a small gathering of cloth tents flying the green and gold banners of the Wydlings. Tiny human figures moved about, unpacking their carts and tending to the horses.

"Let's go," Evaine said. "I want to meet them. The last time we had troupers come around was almost ten years ago. And these aren't just any troupers, they're the Wydlings!"

"Let's go home first," Bran suggested. "The troupe won't be going anywhere, and I'm not sure Ein would appreciate towing your luggage everywhere with him."

Ein looked gratefully at Bran. "Cinnamin will also want to come," he added. "I'd feel guilty if we saw them without bringing her."

That seemed to do the trick, and Evaine fell quiet between the two.

They split up at the village square, Bran heading off to his house at the butchery. But Ein and Evaine continued down the street to the Thoren family forge.