The Second Night

I walk for several hours, practically going around in circles but my progress is slower than normal, despite sleeping well last night. It’s like my legs themselves can tell that I’m not certain I should even be walking away. But my mission is the most important thing. So then why am I leaving without that poison? What if I burrow an arrow in my father’s heart but a mage heals him? What if I die without even avenging Oria? 

My steps falter and I slowly turn back to look at the forest behind me. Deep inside it lies Canis Potions, and the apothecary. And the rest of that tiny town, but I didn’t even bother to explore it. I was only there for that shop keeper and the poison.

The poison. Am I being foolish? Am I running away because I’m scared of my own thoughts? Of my own memories that happened so long ago? What foolishness. They’re just memories, they can’t hurt me.

A shattering scream explodes in my head and I crash sideways, breathing heavily against a tree as the screaming continues before abruptly cutting off. 

Oria.

The notion that memories can’t hurt me now is ridiculous. If I let myself think about Oria then I’ll remember the sound of her dying breath, of her final scream. I can’t do this. Any of this.

I’m just so lost. It’s so hard to keep sight of what my goals even are. I just wish that my life wasn’t like this. I wish Oria was alive. I wish my father wasn’t a monster. I wish that I could just be happy. I wish I don’t want to die. 

I wish I wasn’t so scared of my own mind.

Something soft pushes into my hand and I start at the contact before realising it’s just a dog. A large guard dog that I’ve seen before - although it’s still smaller than its mother. 

“You must be Minor,” I murmur, gripping onto the tree as I slowly lower myself to the ground and wrap my arms around the dog. It pushes its nose into my hand, licking my palm happily. Burying my face in its fur, I let out a shuddering breath. My mind is all over the place. 

I just want to give up. I want this all to be over.

“Temi? You decided to join me in the forest?” 

Dragging my face out of Minor’s soft fur, I blink up at the shop keeper. She has a rabbit slung over one shoulder, Major standing at her side, panting happily just like Minor. 

“I was running away,” I whisper, too tired to even lie. Fear flits through the apothecary’s eyes for a moment but it immediately fades as she blinks.

“I see. Well, if you would like some rabbit stew, then you could always run away after dinner instead. Although those are my favourite trousers, so I may ask you to swap them for a different pair first.”

Why is she so calm? I just admitted to breaking our contract and running off the moment she turned her back?

“I do like stew,” I murmur instead, my stomach letting out a sound of agreement. The shop keeper smiles, offering me her hand. She helps pull me to my feet and I stagger slightly, unsteady on my own legs. 

“Let's get home then. I found some of the plants I’ll need to make that poison, today. I’ll be able to get started on it soon,” the shop keeper informs me gently, holding my hand supportively as we start to walk back in the direction I came from, the dogs running ahead of us.

“Aren’t you angry? I tried to run away and even stole some of your potions…” I trail off, some part of me starting to feel deeply guilty. I don’t even know why I’m bothering to say these things, I could’ve just lied. Again. It feels like half of my life is a lie.

“Why would I be angry? You’re allowed to leave whenever you like. And you’re welcome to any potions you need, I don’t mind,” she smiles softly, squeezing my hand. 

I don’t understand this woman at all.

It’s interesting, watching the shop keeper prepare the rabbit. I’m used to cooking whatever I catch out on a camp fire, and I never bother with seasoning or that kind of thing. But the shop keeper is preparing the rabbit to cook it into a meal. A real, proper meal. I just sit at the table, watching her for a long time. Her shoulders are broad and strong, always tensed, yet she has a permanent relaxed smile on her face. I don’t understand her at all.

She is unlike anyone I have ever met before.

I would definitely remember meeting her.

Standing slowly, I sidle up to the shop keeper and place my hand on her waist, using her warmth to ground myself in reality. Whether or not I remember her doesn’t matter - she evidently remembers me enough that she even knows my name - my real name, at that. 

“Won’t you give me a clue? One that might jog my memory as to your identity?” I murmur close to her ear. The shop keeper’s hand stills briefly, the half-carved rabbit laying on the board before her. My fingers toy with the hem of her shirt, the temptation to touch her skin beneath as strong as the previous night.

“Acting a little dangerous there, beautiful,” she murmurs, placing the knife down carefully. “I was holding a knife, after all. You wouldn’t want to distract me.” The shop keeper leans into my embrace, my arms automatically curling around her torso at the motion. 

“My hands are dirty or I’d kiss you,” the apothecary whispers as I place kisses along her neck. 

“I don’t believe hands are needed for kissing,” I breathe against her, my tongue darting out to taste the light saltiness of her skin.

“I have rabbit’s blood on my hands and I’ve been in the forest all day sweating like a pig. I don’t think you want to fuck me right now, Temi,” she laughs, the sound hurting my heart slightly less than before. It shouldn’t remind me of anyone else - she is the one I’m with right now and that’s what I need to focus on.

Her.

The shop keeper.

Whatever her name may be.

“Hmm, I’m not sure about that,” I tease, my hands caressing her through the black shirt. How I’d love to slip my fingers between those buttons, but no. She wouldn’t want that. 

“What are you implying, gorgeous,” the shop keeper whispers, finally turning her head to look at me. I take the opportunity to kiss her deeply and she practically melts against me, letting out a relaxed sigh.

“Let me finish cooking first. We can continue this after dinner,” she says before kissing me again - as if she doesn’t also want this right now, too. I can practically see her resolve hanging on by a thread.

I want to snap that thread, tip her over the edge.

“I’ll help you cook,” I offer instead.