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A big thanks to Cassie69a and Happyyy_ for their huge help in editing!
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Chapter 2: Hostess
The dinner table sits in the profound silence that always follows the shouting. Ale is dripping onto the floor from father's spilled tankard. We had known that my selection was a possibility, but none of us had thought it would really happen. This is the kind of thing that happens to other people, and we give them our condolences. It isn't supposed to happen to us. Father leaves the table and his mess behind him and sluggishly makes for his bed.
A knock at the door breaks my mother and I out of our bitter contemplation. Eager for any excuse to do anything other than sit in that silence, I answer it. It's Mary, my friend and mentor at the apothecary. Cradled in her arms she carries The Herboria, the book I've been reading in her shop when there's nothing else to do. That's what finally does it. The tears that have been threatening all day begin to spill out. I'll never see any of them again. Will this book be all that remains to connect me to my past?
Wait.
That's not right.
I can return to them after the term is up.
Do I want to?
Term? What is that? What a strange thought. I snap back into the past and cry in earnest into Mary's shoulder as we embrace tightly. I know the neighbors can hear it down the road, but I don't care.
When the tears cease, I awkwardly thank her. I invite her in, but she declines. I wave to her as she departs down the lane.
Consciousness returned slowly and from the raw feeling in my face I could tell that I was crying in my sleep. For a moment, the bed felt foreign, and I began to question where I was. The memories of the last 2 days caught up with me in a rush, and I remembered the term that the spirit had spoken of. A year and a day. I could endure for a year and a day. I tried to recall where I put my clothes yesterday. My cloak should have been on the bed post, but it was missing. I took a tentative step out of the bed. The spirit was supposed to be out today, thankfully. Even if he had promised not to touch me against my will, I still didn't love the idea of wandering naked around him.
I found what I was looking for on the lone table in the house. The clothes were clean and dry, with the faint earthy smell like a rainstorm. I wondered absently when my host would return. He was powerful, no doubt. But how long would it take him to defeat an army and return home? That was when the term would begin, he had said. My other supplies were there, too, less the iron pot that had been left behind.
There came a noise behind me as the front door opened. I quickly threw the cloak over myself again. Was he back already? Had dealing with a small army been so easy for him? But the noise didn't come from my host at all. It was a woman, no taller than 5 foot, cloaked in a homespun robe. Her gray hair was bound in a messy bun which hid her ears. Her face was wrinkled from many winters, and her mouth was pursed so tightly it reminded me of a cat's rear end. Despite that, her eyes smiled when she saw me. She reminded me of Mary both in age and stature, which I found strangely comforting. In one arm was a basket full of various kinds of fruits and several loaves of fresh bread. The whole ensemble made my mouth water, since in the chaos of yesterday I hadn't eaten anything besides the small scraps of travelling food.
"Welcome, deary! I heard we had a new neighbor on the way, I wanted to say hello!" Her voice was warm and musical.
"W-who are you?" came my nervous response.
"A friend and neighbor." Her mouth loosened slightly into a small smile, "Queran asked me to check in to see how you were feeling. I heard there was some unpleasantness on the road yesterday- nothing too bad I hope!"
Queran? Was that the spirit's name? I hadn't asked yesterday. It hadn't seemed that important in the aftermath of almost dying. I stiffened at her mention of unpleasantness, recalling the ambush on the road yesterday, how helpless I had been. I pictured the captain's lifeless head rolling on the ground and the terrified screams of the men being dragged under the earth.
"He saved my life yesterday... there were bandits who were going to kill me."
She frowned at that, "Poor child, thank goodness you're safe now."
The image of those men struggling against roots that had sprung from the earth appeared in my mind unbidden, "Am I? I'm living with this creature who killed three men yesterday without batting an eye. I'm just... I'm scared, and..." I took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to compose myself. "I'm sorry, I just met you. You don't need my outbursts."
She stopped that train of thought in its tracks, embracing me, "Shhh now, you are safe here. I promise upon stone unchanging that no harm shall come to you while you stay here." I sniffled into her shoulder. She backed up and an embarrassed flush came over her wrinkled features, "Sorry if that was the wrong thing to do... I never quite know how to comfort your kind."
"No... I needed that. Thank you..." I struggled to keep the flush from my own face, "I'm just an emotional wreck today. It was just intense. One moment I was so scared, the next he's tending my shoulder, and I feel... I just don't know how to feel about everything."
Now I flushed in earnest, and the woman favored me with a sly grin, "I know how you feel. He has that effect on women. But enough of all that, have you eaten at all today? You must be starving! Some food in the belly is good for your head!"
As if on cue, my stomach let out an audible rumble, evoking laughs from both of us. She set out the food from her basket on the table and excused herself to let me get fully dressed. Once everything was set, we both sat and ate. The bread was airy, warm, and wholesome, with fresh herbs baked into a crispy crust, nothing like the flakey mass of hardtack that passed for bread back home. I briefly considered stories that the villagers would tell about the fey- how eating from their table would give them a magical hold over you. I hesitated for a moment, but then thought about the year I'd be spending in this place. I would have to eat at some point, it might as well be now.
It set my heart at ease somewhat, and we talked about small things. She was a fey spirit, like Queran. She lived in a small forest to the south west of this place, further down the Arvel River, which was considered old, even by the standards of trees. She asked me about my home, and I told her all there was to know about it. She noticed my book which was sitting on the table with us and the rest of my belongings. I showed it to her, but she couldn't read it.
"The letters are different from the ones I know." She explained. "I don't usually bother learning to read since you mortals keep changing the language on us every few centuries."
We passed more time in quiet contentment, me starting and tending a small fire, her embroidering a piece of fabric. Like so many grandmotherly figures, she appreciated the value of quiet. Feeling somewhat more at ease now, I thought to ask what had been on my mind since the selection ceremony.
"What is the purpose of all this?" I asked, "This bargain, I mean. Queran wants women in exchange for protecting the village, but to what end? He says he won't do anything without my permission- which I appreciate and it's more than I expected when I was coming here- so it doesn't seem like he just wants pleasure. Is he after companionship? Or is it something else?"
She paused in her needlework and gave me a once over. "I know the answer to your question, but it isn't mine to give. Ask Queran when he gets back. It's rather a personal matter. He may not wish to tell you at first either."
Well that sounded ominous. I hesitated, reaching for the right words that would convince her to tell me, but they wouldn't come. She seemed to notice my discomfort.
"He has a need that only a woman can fulfill. So far, none have managed. More than that I cannot say. Ask him when he returns if you truly wish to know."
I spent a few more moments in quiet reflection.
"What should I call you?" I was curious after learning a name I could put with the spirit. "I've heard stories that your kind are particular about names, and I don't mean to be too forward, but it would be nice to know what to call you."
Her eyes held a small twinkle, "You asked perfectly courteously. Asking for my name directly would have been forward but asking what to call me is considered quite polite. You may call me Acera."
"Acera." I repeated, "Thank you for the kindness you've shown me today. I was quite anxious coming here, but I know I didn't expect such hospitality."
As evening fell, we exchanged goodbyes and Acera departed, leaving behind the basket of food for me to last until Queran returned. She had to be back to her home by tomorrow morning to tend to her gardens. Having the house to myself allowed me to immerse myself in the new surroundings. I spent the next three days exploring the reaches of the Godswood, discovering all sorts of interesting things. There was a clearing near the southern border that was filled with bright blue wildflowers that only opened at sunrise and sunset. There was a cave that descended down to a small subterranean lake, though I couldn't explore it fully due to the pitch darkness. The trees were home to birds of every hue of the rainbow, some nearly as big as me! It was a fairy kingdom writ small here.
I wondered if I could be content to live alone here for a long time. On one hand it was appealing, the thought of no more shouting matches followed by tense silences. Of course, all of that depended on whether my host would behave as he claimed he would.
On the fifth day since Queran left, the temperature fell and there was a flurry of snowfall. I kindled a small fire in the hearth to keep warm and waited inside. With nothing else to do, I began to leaf through the book Mary had given me. Reading always seemed to set my mind at ease. Finally opening it for the first time, I noticed a slight gap in the pages further in. I opened to the pages in question and discovered several dried sprigs of an unknown plant, each little stem carrying dozens of little circular leaves. There was a note as well:
Calliope,
