Cauldron and Sword

[Legens Legentis]

"June?"

Cornelius was taken aback at the sight of his host, emerging from the fog out in front of him. The barrier enveloped all, obscuring the comforting warmth of the English sun. He'd give almost anything to be in a London pub and giving cheers to the king himself. Or maybe exploring the Italian countryside, wandering all the way to mighty Rome. Still, none of that accounted for why the mysterious woman was outside while there was danger afoot. For all he knew, the ghouls still lurked in the shadows. He approached her through the mist in spite of the pain in his legs.

"What in blazes are you doing out here? Come, get inside." He tried to usher her in, until he saw the broomstick lying on the ground. His face was, at first, filled with confusion, then deep suspicion. The assassin knelt down and picked up the object. Cornelius turned it around with his hands, inspecting everything. He quietly handed it back to June with the hopes that she could speak for herself.

 

[Levy]

"What am I doing?" It took her a moment to come to her wits. She gripped the broomstick he had kindly picked up for her and mustered every ounce of self control she had to not clobber him. She readjusted Pearl in her arm. "What am I doing out here? What in God's name are you doing here? You're mortally wounded! You can barely walk! Just look at that limp." She pointed to his foot with her broomstick-equipped hand. "You're lucky one of those bumbling ghost men hasn't slashed your back yet. Good heavens, you fell asleep before I could tell you the repercussions of that wound." She patted the back of the mare. "Come on now. It's a little ways back home."

Of course, she was sure her wounded guest would've enjoyed an explanation, as the trace of doubt she felt from him was stinging. "I thwarted the King of the Undead in his plans for world domination and killed all the ghouls he was hoarding." She looked over at him for a reaction, before turning to look at her broomstick. "I was cleaning. It's a storage shed, and I wanted to get some supplies out of it while you slept." June had never been a good liar, which was an incredulous fact considering how much of her interactions were founded on lies. Sometimes she wished she didn't have to so often.

 

[Legens Legentis]

The obvious attempt at a distraction threw Cornelius off completely. Something unusual was going on, but without any proof, all he could do was theorize. He chuckled (unwittingly) at her comment of defeating the ghouls singlehandedly. Even worse, June was right about his foolishness for coming outside. He chose to think nothing more of the situation. Failing to notice that she lacked any supplies from this hypothetical shed, the former knight trudged back to the house with little haste. It was nice to simply breathe out here. The dew clung fervently to the surrounding vegetation.

Cornelius remembered the days when he marched side-by-side with legions of his comrades. The hours were long, and rest scarce. Food was never in abundance. Yet despite all of his struggles, the assassin recalled those years as his finest. He was young and idealistic. He fought for the crown instead of mere riches. A part of him yearned for those days to return, and this unease was embedded on his face clearly.

 

[Levy]

June peered over at the man, his mind seeming to be off in some other land, and she gave the entry gate a light push. "Don't frown so much." She set the cat down in her usual resting place, followed by the broom. "You'll get creases." Her head nodded toward the couch he'd previously been asleep on. "I would really insist you spent the night until daybreak at the very least, but I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the viscount." She said, and poured them both another cup of tea from the table.

Never in her life did she even consider she'd be sharing a cup of tea with a human in the comfort of her own home. Yet, there she was. Perhaps it would do her some good to keep to herself a bit more. Yes, she didn't want this human to die right after she tried to nurse him to health, but the thought of her sleeping in the same house as a human terrified her to no end. Suspicion feeds curiosity, and curiosity could get her killed. What if he stumbled upon a spell book? A cauldron? If he so much as stepped out of the main room, he'd have already found evidence to have her crucified.

 

[Legens Legentis]

Creases? By this point Cornelius had just about every disfigurement that a man of his profession could have. It made him smile, listening to June behave in such a doting manner. He reluctantly returned to the couch, feeling as though he had taken too much already. Abusing one's hospitality was not the correct path for a gentleman, let alone a knight. The tea was as pleasant on the tongue as before. It warmed him up, and that was all he really needed in this moment, as any man would falter in the cold. "It's not the viscount I'm worried about," he clarified. "It's the people in the villages. The women and children, those who can't defend themselves."

He sighed. There was nothing he could do if he stayed here. However... the comforts proved tempting. Cornelius tried to read June's face, watching closely for any sign of deception. It was foolish to assume the worst of a host, yet one could never be too careful. The assassin let his teacup down on an old saucer plate. He took one hand to his abdomen, realizing how little effort it would have taken for the blade to go a bit further, just enough to finish the job. This career was like walking on a dangerously thin line.

 

[Levy]

June rubbed her face in discontent. This was a good human. A complex, confusing, good human. She wringed out a lukewarm towel and let it set on his forehead, as the man still had a high temperature. It would've been a great deal easier if she could simply heal him with a spell and charm, and send him off, but that would obviously raise a few questions and would generally be problematic.

"Defend themselves against whom? The ghost men?" She let the question hang for a moment. "I don't think you'll need to worry about them for a while. I don't believe there's been any attacks in broad daylight, so you can at least stay until sundown. I wouldn't want you riding in darkness, so we'll have to keep an eye on the time. Would that be alright?"

Until then, of course, she would have to stay on her toes. But, perhaps it wouldn't be all too bad having a human around. He's wounded anyway, so he doesn't really pose that much of a threat to her, right? And the house is always so lonely, aside from Pearl, so maybe a temporary companion wouldn't be all too bad. She tried to remember the last time she'd been able to dote on someone. Even though she was a healing witch, patients were far and few in between--witches usually lived in factions together and creatures tended to not mix with other kin, some even found it traitorous to accept help from another kind. Most of her time was spent studying or looking after the house, and she really didn't have much way of communication to the outside world, human or not. She was aware of an exclusively magic pub in the human town, but she wasn't much of a drinker.

 

[Legens Legentis]

Cornelius was left with a burning curiosity as he continued to dwell on why June wished for him to stay so badly. Not many people were so brave as to keep around a man like him in their own home. The former knight let his eyes wander up to the far-reaching ceiling, perceiving it to be much closer to the ground than before. His nerves were getting the best of him. "Aye, I suppose that would be... alright. But I must confess, I cannot take your hospitality without finding a way to return the favor. My very honor depends on it." With his experience, it was hard to imagine lone hermit as being a pure altruist. He preferred to wander like the nomads of ancient times.

Truth be told, his familiarity with women was lacking. The life of a hunter and soldier did not leave much room for the fairer sex. Not that he would dare make any undue advances on June, of course. "While I'm here, I suppose it wouldn't hurt if we learned more about one another." This was more of an exercise in precaution.

 

[Levy]

Her sense of responsibility for this seemingly defenseless human was most likely the reasoning behind her persistence, however, in the back of her mind, she knew it was something else. Something much more spur of the moment, something seething with instinct, and something very dangerous for someone who was criminalized by a whole population for her very existence. She nearly spit out her tea when she heard of his preposition.

"W-well, I live a bit of a dreary life here on my own, so why don't you tell me about your childhood, Cornelius?" She said in the state of recovery. Tiptoeing around this one would be slightly more difficult, thus, perhaps if she tried to steer the focus onto him, he wouldn't notice, and she wouldn't have to weave herself a web of lies. Carefully, she rose to go check if Pearl was alright, allowing him to tell his story. The feline would be humiliated if she went down with the kick of a boot, a necromancer's boot at that, and June was certain it would take much more than that to bring harm to her.

"Oh, and please don't worry of returning the favor, it wasn't really much of a favor, rather than basic decency. Truly, don't worry." If she was being honest, he brought much more excitement into her life in the few hours he was there than she had, likely that entire year. She fought a necromancer! And won!

 

[Legens Legentis]

If only the assassin could wrap his head around June's endless diversions. Talking to her was like assembling a puzzle. The only problem, however, was that she wasn't giving all the pieces. They were scattered in the fragments of information she provided, as well as in the inferences Cornelius made about her. There was some enticement in the mystery. He almost took it as a challenge to unlock. "My childhood?" He thought long and hard about it. "Most of it was unbearable. I try not to dwell on the subject for very long." A part of him wondered if his family could have been saved from the plague, if only he had done something different. Guilt dragged him down like an anchor, deep into the murky depths of the unknown.

Nevertheless, Cornelius was glad to hear that June required nothing. If she were a witch (how preposterous!) then odds are that she'd make some kind of blasphemous bargain. The former knight was happy to have a friend for a change. Such a term was unfamiliar to him, as the people he grew closest with in recent years were only vengeful employers. "My curiosity burdens me, madam," he grinned. "Even a dreary life must have its rare bursts of spontaneity."

 

[Levy]

"Oh, dear. I'm sorry if I've upset you. Childhoods are tricky, I suppose." She rubbed the nape of her neck as she stood. The passing century hadn't been kind to the humans, as she remembered. Disease and crop failure ran rampant, and the devastation reached as far at the spectral communities. Perhaps he'd been raised in poverty. An abusive household, maybe? The plague or its partners in tragedy? Reconsidering her conversational topics, she weaved her way back towards Cornelius and took a seat.

"Curiosity killed the cat, didn't it?" June laughed a bit. "I- well, let me think a moment." Yes, sometimes she flies around on a broomstick and tends to sunburnt vampires. Every once in a while she'll find a forest fairy. "Would you like to know why my hair is the way it is?" A smile tugged at her lips. "It's not very interesting, but I get strange looks when I visit the town. The bow draws the attention away from it, I think. See, I would always have my hair caught in something while I was moving around, either in a pot or a doorway or milk, and I was quite vexed- once it almost caught fire! I had it all off eventually, because it was simply so frustrating. I don't think the maidens in town like it very much, nor do the gentlemen in the shops." Her original intent was to, of course, drive his curiosity off with a dull story, but she'd be fibbing if she said she didn't enjoy speaking of her life in such simple terms.

 

[Legens Legentis]

Aye, childhoods were indeed tricky. Life in this dark age was nasty, brutish, and short, but it could always get worse. Unfortunately, Cornelius had the tendency of making it worse for himself. June was respectful, and for that, he was grateful. She didn't peer too deeply when it wasn't needed. The strange girl herself must have a tale of her own, a past that was yearning to be shared. Why else would she live all alone in the forest? No matter the case, it was hardly up to the former knight to judge. He listened closely to every word she said. "I can't see why the gentlemen wouldn't be too fond of it. It looks rather fetching." The hunter snickered at the thought of her hair being combusted.

June's peculiar aura was obnoxiously compelling. Every little thing she said or did echoed in the growing curiosity of Cornelius. "Heh, that reminds me of a story. There was this one occasion where I was hired to clear a bandit camp with a few younger apprentices, so to speak. We found their location near the bottom of a cliff, and we waited until midnight to strike. As it turned out, they noticed us long before we moved in, and the youngsters ran off back to the village. The bandits humored themselves by burying me alive in a decrepit coffin. It took me a great deal of time to bust the roof open with a few leftover bones from the previous victim, and even longer to dig my way back up. Still, they were so terrified when I crawled out that they gave up banditry for good. Everybody wins, I suppose."

 

[Levy]

"Fetching? You humor me too much, Cornelius." June tucked a few strands behind her ear, suddenly very aware of her own hair. She was pleasantly surprised at his capacity to listen, truly listen, and give his own two cents. Sitting down with someone and exchanging their bits and pieces was a wonderful thing she wished she could do more. His story was a startling one, though it had her giggling quite a bit.

"You most literally dug yourself out of a grave. My goodness, I believe I've severely underestimated the experience you've had as a bounty hunter. My apologies." June shifted her attention towards the now stitched wound. "It doesn't hurt too much, I hope? Is there anything I can do? Water? A change of clothing?" She, of course, had administered a witchy brand of anesthesia, so it couldn't have been unbearable, but it was always a good practice to check up with the person in question.

 

[Legens Legentis]

Cornelius thought about what he should ask from June. In all honesty, he didn't require much, besides ensuring that his wound would not become infected. Anyone that wasn't a noble had trouble in avoiding disease, but people like him were often on the brunt end of the worst. His spirits were lightened by June's youthful giggle. At times he felt much older than he actually was, almost to the point of envy for the generations following him. "I think I can manage. Asking for anything more would be terribly rude. However, I could very well ask you the same question. I should be leaving soon, yet I could go into the next village and bring back supplies, if you require any."

 

[Levy]

June sat back down as the man politely declined her offer to help. "Oh, it's problem at all." She played around with her thumbs. For a moment, she had forgotten the mortality of this human, and of her own otherworldliness. Just for a small moment, she was simply a maiden exchanging a riveting conversation with her guest, and there were no thoughts of secrecy or divisions or human elitism. But of course. How silly of her to forget.

"Oh goodness, I'm perfectly alright. You don't have to do that!" June brought up her hands, laughing. "Though, there is one thing." She raised a peachy eyebrow.

"Booze." June chuckled. If there was one thing humans did right, it was definitely alcohol. "Rum, wine, moonshine, I'm not particularly picky. I've never really kept a cellar, but perhaps it wouldn't hurt to keep some on hand." It had been a very long time since she had really had a drink. Drinking was something engrained in witch and human society alike—she could remember evenings when the whole town would gather in the tavern and drink their weights in rum, laughing and joking and playing until sunrise. Alcohol always brought back warm memories. Once she came of age, she felt it a sin to drink alone, with darkness in the mind and heart, but it was rare to find herself in friendly company anymore.

"I know I agreed to see you off at sundown, but really, must you leave so soon?" June gave him a soft look. She knew he was dangerous, and the daggers Pearl was shooting her from across the room was evidence enough. "You're still terribly injured, and those wounds won't heal overnight, but I'd be much more comfortable letting you mount your horse in the morning, once you've had a chance to rest some." She bit her lip anxiously. If she was being honest, she wouldn't be comfortable letting anyone with wounds like his even stand for at least a week, but his circumstances proved to be tricky.

 

[Legens Legentis]

Cornelius' eyes went wide with shock as June requested booze of all things. Like any Englishman, he could hold his alcohol and drink another knight under the table, but he found it uncharacteristic of a woman so gentle and kind to indulge in. His mouth went agape for a moment, until he remembered that he was honor-bound to meet the request. Rum and wine were best purchased in bottles and beer purchased in barrels. He weighed the costs in his head based on what the last tavern owner charged him for a drink, but easy numbers eluded him. June saved his life, so the cost of refilling her stocks would always be low even as his coffer grew lighter.

"I would hate to impose..." he said in response to her keeping him until morning. He found himself enjoying her company far too much, and the last thing he wanted was for June to suffer any rumors of indecency. The scandal would be unbearable. Still, the look on her face melted any defense he had left in his hardened heart. Furthermore, she was right. The wounds on his body had not fully disappeared. "I can't say no to a lady very easily, however. I will stay for a little longer, and return with your drink of choice by midday tomorrow." Cornelius wished he had the words to express his gratitude with.

He placed his hand over his chest. "You have my word." There was a slight desire to share a toast with her upon his return, to drink and tell merry stories of a past that was always becoming more distant, increasingly unfamiliar. He felt as though not even death would prevent him from fulfilling this singular promise. The task of errand boy was ubiquitous in the profession of mercenary, ensuring that goods ended up in the right hands across dangerous roads. The rewards were not always greater than the risks, but this time, it felt appropriate.

 

[Levy]

June giggled at the man's show of chivalry. The knight's code of honor was something she never quite understood, she couldn't help but be mildly amused by it—nevertheless, she respected it all the same.

"Thank you, good sir." June said with a smile. She glanced at Pearl, whose fur seemed to be ruffled in indignation. She could only give her a reassuring look, as if to say, don't worry so much, it'll be fine. June picked up the cat with and gingerly laid her across her lap, stoking her coat of fur with soothing hands. Pearl responded in kind, a low purr sounding from underneath June's fingertips.

However delighted she was that Cornelius decided to stay, Pearl had a point. There was still a glaring issue involving her, the man, and the hundreds of potions and spellbooks she had scattered around the house. If he happened upon anything incriminating, even a meager occult trinket, well, she didn't even want to think about what would happen. Hopefully, he would not be too nosy.

A glance at the window told her the sun had finished setting, the night eclipsing the sky. "Cornelius," she started, the name rolling off her tongue almost familiarly. "Are you hungry? It seems to be getting dark. I can prepare dinner and then you can get some rest—you'll be needing a lot of it." June stood from her chair, glancing from the dining room to the couch he was splayed across. She set her familiar down, who stretched her arms and legs out.

"Stay put," she instructed the knight. "I don't want to move you around more than is necessary. Pearl will keep you company," she said with a wink, bounding for the kitchen door. "Any requests for dinner?" She paused in the door frame, looking to him expectantly. She wasn't sure if he would be hungry or not, but he needed the nourishment to heal properly.

 

[Legens Legentis]

Cornelius let his eyes wander very briefly, honing in on the odd little cat that, as cats often did, demanded much of its master's attention. He could not pinpoint anything specific about the animal that intrigued him, but he knew full well when pets disliked him. Perhaps he simply got along better with dogs. His drifting in thought ended when June made the offer for dinner, and Cornelius blushed. He wiped his forehead as if it were torrid inside the old cottage. She looked at him, expecting an answer, and this caused the warrior's face to redden further.

"Madam, this is too much..." he blurted out. His code of honor would have encouraged him to marry the woman if she kept this up, and he would never burden such a kind soul in that manner. At least, that is what he believed. Cornelius' mind snowballed into second-long daydreams, but eventually he decided on what to eat. "I would be content with fish," he said begrudgingly. From his long bouts at sea, it was easy to get acquainted with the taste of sea-going creatures. Other meats were typically more expensive in any case.

Left without any other choice, the knight stayed put. This time, he stared closely at the dark feline, wondering its thoughts. His eyes fluttered and grew heavy, his exhaustion becoming as heavy as twin anvils. "What is your story, cat?" Cornelius said with a weak smile. The knight wished he could stand and get a better idea of his surroundings. Knowledge of the terrain was a great advantage in the face of an ambush, especially if some wicked monster were to attack the home while he remained there.

 

[Levy]

"Oh," June cracked a small smile, placing a bemused hand to the side of her face as she watched the man's cheeks turn a bright red. "You're adorable." She had to hold in her laughter, giggling at this great, manly, gallant knight's show of fluster. It seemed as though every word that left his lips was saturated in candor and sincerity. His wholeheartedness made for a sour feeling in her stomach, ironically. He was in such a vunerable state, and yet there she was, lying to him through her teeth about her entire being.

She brought her attention back to supper. "Fish is it, then. I'll just be a while." She left the door to the kitchen open, mostly so that she would know anything needed her attention. But, it was also a precautionary measure. If he were about to stumble upon something he shouldn't, she could quickly glance to the side and assuage the situation, if it so required.

Tying an apron around her waist, June went to work. Herring was what she had in the pantry, salted to preserve. She picked three slabs of the herring from its jar and laid them out, along with an assortment of herbs. On the other side of the kitchen was a brick countertop with a pot burrowed into it, and a square window halfway down the side revealing old firewood and cinders. After carefully placing in new wood and readying the fire, she drizzled the bottom of the pan with oil and laid down the slabs of fish. The herring sizzled over the flame, letting the familiar scent of the sea drift through the house.

The sparsely seasoned herring would be entirely too bland for her satisfaction, so she went about making a green sauce. From a cabinet she took a mortar and pestle, and in it she dropped bunches of parsley leaves and mint leaves. She held the pestle firmly in her hands, small as they were, and began grinding the herbs into a paste. Pepper, salt, and vinegar sat closely next to her.

June was never particularly good at multitasking. While she had left the door open to the kitchen open so she could see what was happening in the living room, she had been so engrossed in preparing supper that she wasn't even the one stealing most of the glances.

After June left, Pearl mounted herself on the armrest furthest from Cornelius, studying him as he asked her about her story. A low rumble of a meow came from the familiar, before she leapt from the sofa and tittered away. A few moments later, she came back with a rolled up piece of paper nestled in her mouth. She sprung back up onto the cushions, this time climbing atop Cornelius' chest, her tail curling around her. The paper dropped from her mouth, and she used her nose to push it towards his hand.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, June was wrapping up the meal. The green mint sauce was prepared and served in a shallow ceramic dish, while the fried herring sat on two plates. She chopped the third fish into bite sized pieces and piled them into a high-rimmed dish with "Pearl" scrawled on the side.

"Supper is ready," June said as she slid past the doorframe, carrying a tray of food. She set the tray down on the coffee table and put Pearl's dish on the ground next to them, taking a one over of the room to make sure everything was in place. June herself sat on the table across from Cornelius, holding his plate and spoon in her hands.

"I hope you are not too weary to eat. Can you sit up? Shall I feed you?" She inquired slowly.

 

[Legens Legentis]

It did not take long for the succulent aroma in the kitchen to reach Cornelius' nose through the open door. He was alone again, save for the presence of the cat, and his rapid thoughts slowed to a crawl. Him, adorable? That couldn't be further from the truth! The knight pouted as he struggled to come up with a retort for when June returned, but he was never one for clever quips. The scent of spices invaded the living room and overwhelmed his other senses, causing his stomach to growl with impatience. Cornelius had forgotten the last time he ate. He lost track of time as he watched the good lady cook, beholding her precision and talent in the craft.

Then, as if in reply to the words he spoke to the feline, the creature vanished and reappeared with a scroll in tow. Cornelius went still as a rock as it dropped an odd piece of paper onto his chest, and part of him assumed that he had fallen asleep and was now dreaming. The knight unrolled the item and was utterly stunned at what he saw. It was a local map, highly detailed and, as far as he could tell, highly accurate. He traced his finger over the village dots and river lines, but Cornelius found no trace of anything truly familiar. "I see no hint of Sussex here," he muttered. He looked back at the feline with a sense of apprehension. This was no ordinary cat, and his suspicions were raised. He had to be more discrete.

Cornelius was startled when he caught a glimpse of June walking back into the living room, and he slid the map under his shirt in the blink of an eye. The fish looked as good as it smelled. The knight was practically salivating. "T-that will not be necessary, madam. I can sit up." He moved his torso thusly, keeping the angle of his body low enough so that the map would not fall out from his shirt. He took his first few bites slowly, checking for any hint of taint of poison, but none was to be found. "Marvelous!" he exclaimed with a brightly-lit face. June had continued to impress him in new ways. "I bet you could serve in a king's pantry with your talent," the knight beamed.