By the time evening began, we sold most of the stock, packing what remained into the cart and paid the stall keeper for the day, even some extra for the broken pole. The coins were colored copper, bronze, steel and lastly silver and gold, of which ran in units of ten. The copper was the smallest in value and size, no bigger than my thumbnail and called Obril, stamped with an ‘O’ with two dots on the left side of the letter. Fifty of those led to the value of one of the bronze coins, called Bearhil with an ‘B’ with a dash on either side. They were the size of a bottle cap and ridged. Two of those equaled the steel which was no bigger than a quarter back home called Gretine and so forth. The silver was called Argentum and the gold was Aurum, both the size of a half dollar and stamped with ‘A,’ silver had a crescent moon and the gold had a four-pronged wheel. Each had a hole punched through them where they hung on a piece of waxed twine, kinda like how old Chinese coins were designed, according to Hans when I asked, it was modeled after the coins from the far eastern countries due to how convenient it made to carry rather than tossing them all in a bag and getting them all jumbled together. I was given a written guide on how much each product costs and how to take down orders for future products to study.

“Anywhere you want to go? You earned it.” He asked after he finished. Part of me felt a bit giddy, I looked around at the various shops near us before stopping at the sight of the book carved into the sign and signed, whacking my hands a few times against a pole as I tried to spell out where I wanted to go.

“A, bookstore?” His eyebrows shot up. “Gretchen did say you had a knack for devouring the written word, well, come on.” He hurried along and I quickly followed, stumbling on the uneven ground a few times and trying to avoid stepping on a small feylike creature that slithered between legs.

“Would they have journals?” My fingers asked.

“Probably, if anything, I know Alex sells some deep into twilight.” Didn’t know this Alex person but it was nice to know where to get journals. I chose one on herbology and a book on medicinal recipes, some of which I already know from Hans and Gretchen’s grandma.

The shopkeeper was an older man with barely there salt at his temples, he didn’t have journals but offered graphite stubs, ink pens and ink, wrapping everything up in a piece of cloth for me. There was a chime of a bell when we entered the store, springy in notes and made of a polished metal. I followed Hans to where that Alex person was, they had rich Earthy colored skin and coily hair that resembled an afro almost despite the tight braids on their scalp.

I saw how annoyed they looked as they people watched; maybe they had resting bitch face? Ink splotted their fingers from what looked to be their own ink making process and I saw the raised silvery sheen of thin, old scars caused by paper. I quickly scanned the various bound books and ignored the pointed stares at my head.

“So, you’re the reason I haven’t been able to see my love for months.” Their accent was a mix of Island and a bit prim and polished, reminding me of a Transatlantic voice but with a more bass note, but no nasal undertone. I hunched my shoulders up in embarrassment. “I’m not angry, I’ve been dying to know why Hans has been a chipper lad for a while.” Said man looked pointedly away. I took my time, looking through the different dyed leather, it must have been expensive to do but they looked beautiful. Some had designs carved into the leather, darker and indented with simple patterns of plants, hoof prints and even the prints of a bird of some kind.

“Here.” I chose the simple green one, bound with a leather cord. They slid it forward and I held it close while Hans handed them the money.

“Tell Gretchen I’ll see her tomorrow.” Alex called out with a wolfish grin and wiggling eyebrows, causing him to groan. I was nearly dragged by the tall sandy blond man while Alex waved goodbye. He was silent until we got to the cart where he looked dejected as he stared at the seat. “Grandma has me busy so no one can watch you but I think you can be unsupervised while working the stall with Gretchen.” I silently cheered, wait, wouldn't Gretchen be supervising me then?

It was halfway back when I asked about hiding my beauty marks. Hans stared at the road that was being eaten by the thick forest and encroaching darkness, pursuing his lips as he worked his thoughts over in his head.

“They’re called deity kisses, if someone has them, it means a god has chosen them as a divine witch.” I looked at the one on my left ring finger, wasn’t there an old phrase about moles and beauty marks being when someone who loved you would kiss the spot the most back home? I thought it was kinda sweet back when I was a teen, especially with this freckle on my finger.

But I guess he meant priestess or something. “I don’t know, deities are weird, but so as long as we respect them, they don’t bother us, hence the various offerings we leave.” True, a lot of pantheons had odd gods that ruled over the odder parts of life. "And, the Northern princess was said to be beloved by the gods, unfortunately she's missing and her brothers are going insane with trying to find her." He said in a softer tone. For a bit, I was reminded about my own family and my heart ached for a few seconds; I'd probably never see them again. I squeezed my fists, flinching when I felt a brief flash of pain and relaxed my hands. Crescent shaped marks throbbed lightly on my palms.

 ***

And so I spent my days, either accompanying one of the siblings to the market where I helped sell items to people in preparation for winter. Hans was able to help me with memorizing the prices, quizing me on some of the basics that get sold rather quickly, with Gretchen I was usually by myself but she always made sure to check in on me and get me food. The people of the village seemed nice, chatting a bit and divulging secrets based on the fact I was unable to speak. I guess mute equated to deaf here. 

As Grechen and Hans seemed to become more at ease with me residing with them, I learned more about the village people in the process, even rumors of an elf residing in an elite manor away from the village. Apparently he's really powerful, and is only ever visited by the mayor of the town and other Fae. Belgio let me watch him work at his forge a few day a week, even letting me make some designs for him based off old imagery from my previous life and earned a portion of money when they sold. I liked stayiong with him, relaxing by the large fire and was nearly startled when I saw something crawl out of the flames while he hammered at a pot. It looked human enough, with skin darkening to obsidian black and cracked like molten earth, fire bloomed out of the being's back like wings and I was stared at with large insect like eyes.

Belgio noticed and chuckled.

"That there is an Elemental, born strictly from the fire, sometimes 'ill look like animals, sometimes, 'uman." He stepped closer.

"Us dwarves work best with the ones that live within the molten rock, deep under mountains and far from human eyes. It was from them how we learned to dig for the beauties of the Earth and use fire to hone our craft." The being stepped closer, chirping at me softly.

"They won't hurt cha, probably been awhile since they felt the power of a god." I frowned, studying my arms and pulled my sleeves down.

Alex sported different hairstyles every once in a while, one time their sides were shaved and learned they were the reason Gretchen knew a lot about different hair types because she enjoyed washing their hair, playing with it and experimenting with the braids and various hairstyles they would have. Gretchen seemed absolutely in love with them, head over heels would be the best way to describe it. It sent a faint pang in my heart how sickeningly sweet they were together. Turns out they had been together for three years now and pestered Hans about being in a relationship while he preferred to be alone. Summer passed and the sound of cicadas filled the air as I explored the woods around the cabin, even finding the clearing I had woke up in. Strangely, no one else could find it, even when I tried showing them the way.

***

Fall came with changing leaves and the stockpiling of medicine, Gretchen taught me about the various mushrooms that started popping up, diserning the difference between the safe ones and toxic ones and even pulled out a book from her grandmother's personal library when I expressed an interest in poisons.

When I wasn't busy helping around the cabin and slowly moving to around the farm, I studied from the books, making my own notes for myself to help my memory. A few books started off as strictly written but soon I began sketching details of the various plants onto the pages. I was rusty but it took time and tossing paper into the fire when the sheet was filled with too many mistakes before remembering the old tricks, drawing the simple shapes out of various objects and using shadows to study their forms.

Fall turned colder as winter drew near, the days becoming cloudier more often and rain falling with heavy thunderstorms rolling through while the icy frost marched it's way here. I took to drawing the people in the market, some even paying me a bit of extra coin to do quick little protraits of them, some even like it when I exaggerated certain features of them. Alex would even help out, listing some things to draw and pointing out my mistakes during the interactions we had in the market. It was a bit before they mentioned the eye shadows and I informed them of my issue with sleeping at night, mainly to do with my dreams. Winter finally arrived and the market was slow most days, dwindling our interactions and the excursions into the village to every other week so Alex merely chose to come to the cabin instead, riding a horse colored a muted gray.

They asked about my dreams on occasion and I answered them honestly.

Most times I dreamed of nothing, something I was used to from my old life and spent the mornings lamenting over the fact this world didn’t have coffee or any version of it as I dragged myself out of bed and motioned my way through chores. On the rare occasion I did, I dreamt of being chased by something, hands dragging me down even as in my nightmare I still couldn’t scream and occasionally getting woken up by a fearful looking Gretchen while spitting up a mouthful of blood from biting my tongue hard. Those days could be full of choking on the blood and Gretchen scrambling to clear my airways before I drowned. A few times I had to get stitches and their grandmother said it was the best time to get injured with the winter snow helping the swelling. I did my best to describe the dreams to them, even going as far as mentioning the fact I rarely remembered my dreams. But I did draw them, and that seemed to help calm myself after having the nightmares.

“Sounds like you didn’t feel safe back where you used to live.” Alex said, breath fogging the air while helping Gretchen and Hans. I was allowed to start working some of the heavier jobs on the farm after building up some weight, and part of it included bringing in wood from outside, breaking the ice in the water troughs for the animals every couple of hours and hammering sheets of wool and a layer of wood over cracks in the sides. I missed the nail and mouthed every curse I knew under the sun as I shook my hand before Gretchen shoved my hand in a pile of snow. The cold-hot feeling made me jump.

“Yeah.” I spelled out with one hand before flexing my fingers, feeling joints crack. If I remember I never had the ability to feel safe in any retrospect, wait no, there were a few times in my childhood. They studied my hands, a curious look on their face.

“Does it make you sad? Not being able to speak?” They asked, taking over for me. I nodded, checking my hand, my thumbnail hurt and it was most likely going to bruise but I'll live.

“I hated my voice, it sounded a lot different then what I was used to having bounce around in my skull.” Alex snorted, hammering the rest to the other parts of the wooden side. We stepped back and were given approval by Hans.

“How so?” The snow crunched under our feet in a familiar sense of nostalgia as we began the trek towards the fields to checking the fencing, I stumbled when I saw a herd of deer walk by, the large group barely giving us a look back as they hunted for food. The others paid them no mind.

“It’s all soft and delicate, I want to sound strong and, resilient.” I answered, like my name, my real name.

“Well, you look soft and delicate.” Hans stated. I threw some snow at him in response, earning a bellow of curses from the man as he frantially wiped at his face and was earned a glare. “Hey, looks can be deceiving. You’d be surprised at who some people really are when you get to know them.” Gretchen gave me a spontaneous hug in response, then I felt the coldness of snow sliding down my back and let out a silent squeal, flicking it back out from my skin in an odd dance.

“You guys are jerks!” I signed bitterly. Gretchen squealed. “She still does it!” I clamped my jaw tightly and marched along the fence to a snickering Alex.

“What was that word you signed out?” They asked. It took me a second before signing out the word 'jerk' to which they nodded.

“It refers to people who are rude and thoughtless." They tapped their chin as they checked the wire and posts.

“Then wouldn’t you be a jerk too?” I paused before asking:

“'Cause I threw snow at Hans, right?”

“He started it.” They answered. "So we're all jerks." They added after a bit.