Magic, Mobsters, and a Good Pair of Sunglasses

Braid wanted to laugh. The girl was naive, but in a refreshing way. He half expected her to crawl into his bed, considering the new breed of girl that had been culturally developed over the past decade or so. Braid wasn't that old, but he remembered his father telling him how difficult it had been for him to get his mother, back in his day, when there was a whole slew of traditions one had to adhere to in order to properly court a beautiful girl...

"Indeed, it is," he agreed, smiling a bright smile at the girl, his eyes twinkling in amusement. He watched her tip-toe across the room to sit before the fire, taking a kettle from it's perch to make herself a brew. She looked over at him momentarily.

"Will you be making me a cup, as well?" He asked bemusedly. "I like a fair amount of sugar..."
 
There was a small smile on her lips and a quick nod. It did take her more then a moment to locate the sugar, but once she did she quickly handed it over to Braid with a yawn. He wasn't the only one who had had a long day after all.

Relocating herself back to the large chair she sat her cup, half drunk down. "The rain will be gone tomorrow, for a while," she said softly as she looked out at the window. Any words Braid might have said to her after that were heard by perhaps the sprites of the wood that was the furniture of the room, or the soul of the fire. His words were not heard by Natalia for soon she was asleep.

As she had said, there was no rain falling the next morning as the sun tried to bypass the clouds and shine down onto the town. It could have been a pleasant morning, had it not been for the loud pounding on the door to the room. As though a dream herself, Natalia got up and almost glided across the floor to open the door. On the other side was the innkeeper. A tan man in his middle years who was not portly, but one could tell his wife enjoyed feeding him. Natalia said nothing, but tilted her head in question, her dark hair almost like clouds themselves hovering on the edge of the twin stars that were her eyes.
 
Braid dreamed wildly that night. He dreamed of himself in a broad expanse of meadow, surrounded by tall grass and a multitude of flowers of all shapes and colours. The fragrance was overwhelming, but not unpleasant, and the sun beamed down on him. Then in the middle of the meadow, a giant pillar of man-made design exploded from deep within the earth and standing on these towers were large men, flinging down fiery bolts on the field beneath. The meadow turned into a giant inferno, and no matter what Braid could do, he could not stop the flames.

He awoke to a pounding at the door from his deep, yet troubled sleep. He was instantly awake, a habit developed through years of campaigning; he never awoke groggy, or in need of more sleep, no matter how short he slept. Quickly realizing what the pounding was, he kicked out from underneath his sheets and was going to leap up when a blush came to his face; he was still naked underneath the covers!

He quickly covered himself as Natalia answered the door with that distant look on her face.

"Master Laman?" Braid queried, and the middle-aged man came into the room with trouble on his face and brow. He was wringing out his knitted cap from in his hands, his bald head shining from the outside sunlight. He was red in the face, from shame and embarrassment, and a natural inclination towards red-and-ruddy skin.

"Geoffrey," he said quickly, in a familiar tone as he paced about the room. "I-I've done all I could for ye, lad," he said, not taking the time to halt his pacing.

"Done what for me, Master Laman? What's wrong with you?"

The middle-aged inn-master sighed and finally stopped just a few feet in front of Braid. Still wringing his cap, he looked up at the young man sitting on the bed, but did not look him in the eye.

"One o' them fellers, from The Gang," he said it with a reverie that capitalized those words in Braid's mind, and he made a face when he recognized instantly what Laman had meant. "He came in this mornin', just before light, with a troupe of big muscled fellers, lookin' for the chap that felled their beast last night." He then looked over at Natalia who still stood by the door which was, still, wide open. "And the girl."

"I told them ye had already left, Geoffrey, and they tossed me tavern 'part 'fore they bought me story, took a handful of gold and ale, and left me be. But ye need leave, my boy, 'fore they find ye still here. Then we'll all be singin' in Grave Digger's maw."

Braid looked down at his lap, wondering what to think about this new info. He was angry, for sure, but he recognized the wisdom of Old Master Laman's words. Perhaps it would be best to leave, before The Gang sent another beast after Natalia, and now he. Or maybe two beasts this time. One, he could manage, so long as they sought nothing stronger or wilder than the thing he had killed last night. But two..?

He looked up at Laman's face, and noticed the split of his lip, and the blackness of his eye. The anger inside began to pool and well up, 'till near bursting. No, he thought. I will not run.

"Yes," he said, the first word of a long series of plotting he would use to end The Gang. "We will leave. Bring me my things, and I shall dress myself and be gone before light. My steel horse?"

"Taken," Laman said with a sigh. "This mornin', with them ruffians. Told 'em you left it so you could make a quieter escape, on some normal horses ye stole. I got me boys to take Bella to the Blacksmith's stable to make the story a wee bit more truthful."

Braid only nodded. Most of his belongings was on his trike, along with a number of other... offensive tools. He still had his sword, however, braced in a corner of the room.
 
Natalia had by this point gone over and quietly put three fingertips on the side of the innkeepers face. When old Laman looked over at her, she just gave him a soft smile.

"I can bring you a few things to take," the innkeeper said to Braid then took himself out so that the younger man could get dressed.

When the door closed, Natalia looked over to Braid. "He's good people. Can't have any more done to him and his. This town..." Natalia then trailed off and walked over to the window looking out at the predawn, lost in her odd thoughts. Though perhaps she too was giving Braid as much privacy as one could have in the small room.
 
"Thank you, Master Laman," Braid told the roughed-up older man, nodding as he exited their small room to give him privacy and to see to their supplies.

"Aye, he is a good man. Him and his whole family, if I haven't lost my mark."

Staring at the door, Braid stood in as much silence as his new companion, Natalia, was at the window, staring out at the pre-dawn light. The sun couldn't be more than half-an-hour's time before breaking horizon and giving the land a new golden dawn.

They had to move before then.

Forming a plan of sorts in his mind, he began to silently begin to dress himself in the ruined clothes that had been, thankfully, washed and repaired as best as possible. He made a face as he stared at the leather cuirass he had worn underneath his clothes, fingering one of the two claw-marks that had made it's way through to rend his flesh.

He sighed and shrugged it onto his chest over a simple white linen shirt, tying at the loose strings on his right side before pulling on his black leather knee-length coat. He was wearing brown trousers with golden stripes running up on the outside of each pant leg, and calf-length black riding boots. He checked on his boot knife before setting it back into place, then crossed the length of the room in just a handful of strides to gather up his long, curved blade.

It took him all but a few minutes. "Gather your things, and let's go," he told Natalia as he joined her at the window. He would be their lookout as she made her rounds. Hopefully, she would move quick.
 
On the other side of the window, two humming birds were hovering, nearly at eye level with Natalia. When she turned to look at Braid, they quickly flew off, but not before flying up and looking at him once.

"Haste is sadly needed," she said while looking up at him, then turning away to gather up what was hers.

Natalia seemed to have few possessions on her, and most of those seemed to have never been taking out of the large tan leather knapsack that she had almost hidden in one corner. She then put on a skirt and an oversized shirt of peasant design, which she belted with a simple undyed cord. This seemed to contrast greatly with the cloak that she had on the back of the chair. A dark hued cloak that was light weight but seemed to be more then a little protection from the rain. It was well made and had to have cost a good deal.

When Master Laman returned, after knocking on the door, he had a full saddlebag in his hand. His face still looked awful, but surprisingly he didn't look to be in pain like he had when he first had come up to the room.

"Thank you good innkeeper," Natalia said as she struggled to get her personal bag over her shoulders. She smiled warmly at the man who had kept their secret.
 
"Thank you, Master Laman," Braid said with a gracious and thankful smile and nod. He shook the man's hand and gave him what little money he had that he could spare: a solid gold crown. It wasn't much, but hopefully it would help with everything the old innkeeper had done for him-- for him and Natalia both.

"Let's go," he told the strange girl over his shoulder as he made his way down the stairs, through the rear of the inn and out the back door into the shadowed open-stable of the inn. While there was a duo of power outlets for steel horses, most of the stalls were still old-fashioned horse stalls, complete with horses. One of the stalls were empty, door still swinging open in the gentle morning breeze. Bela's stall.

"I think I know where we can go."

~~~~~

"That fuckin' girl and that fuckin' guy ain't gone. They mighta left town, but they's still in the country side. Leave 'fore or after sun-up, make no difference; a fuckin' horse? Seriously?! I can outpace one of those fuckin' things, especially that old piece of shit of that innkeepers. Really, steal that piece of shit? Sheesh. Fuckin' do-gooders are always so goddamned dumb."

Donnor the Red continued his little rant to a slew of underlings. He was a tall man, bald and with chiseled features, a mess of unshaven, unkempt facial hair across his mouth and jaw giving him a rather grizzled look. He was missing an eye, a wicked scar running down his face, and in it's place was a solid piece of white glass with a crimson red slash going down the middle, a vertical slit. That wasn't why he was called 'the Red', however-- he liked blood. He loved seeing it.

Standing next to him was a shorter man, but only barely, looking much smaller for his lithe features. He was skinny, almost sickly looking, but he was deadly. He was known simply as Xavius, and he was a wizard. He had already bent the minds of several of the village-folk, to serve as an example, and had already captured half-a-dozen merchants with his camera. Already, he was very much cooperated with.

Donnor, on the other hand, was widely feared.

"Send your men then, Donnor, and scour the country side. Tear apart the homes of these country fools. Do whatever it is you need to do. I, on the other hand, will find them." Xavius sneered as Donnor turned to look at him with a scowl, baring his teeth. Donnor and Xavius were tentative allies at best. They were given this assignment by their mutual boss-- it would do no good to kill one another, but that didn't mean they weren't antagonistic towards one another, building up separate support bases.

"What the fuck ever, wizard," Donnor responded with his own smug grin. Little did the village folk known that Xavius, while able to manipulate magic, was hardly a wizard. He was easily of the lowest, weakest power bracket, his only talents being manipulated magical devices that gave him the illusion of being some master of magecraft.

Xavius gave the ape-sized crime boss a cold look, but kept his gaze level. Mostly.

Turning back to his own collection of men (that had neatly divided themselves away from Donnor's thugs), he gave orders. "I want my soulless. Don, you wouldn't mind letting me one of those shirts from the Warrior's saddle bags, would you?"
 
They were out of the town before the sun had properly rose, and few if any people saw them leave. Since the incident yesterday, people were staying close to home. The shops would eventually open, but not until the light of day was fully upon them.

Natalia was quiet company as they headed onto one of the smaller roads, but she did not seem to be completely lost in thought though. She rode like a natural, and when they came near long grass or some irises growing out of a low bog, she reached out her hand to feel them lightly on her fingertips as they rode past.

As they came over a rise the road went down and to the west, they however went east from this point. The trail was over grown with greenery but it could still be faintly seen. At one time it was used frequently, but of late no one had used it.

Before any structures could be seen though, Natalia finally spoke. "These are your birth home."
 
They shared the single loaned horse, Bela. Their flight from the town was surprisingly casual-paced. Braid knew they had the advantage of false information, and Braid knew this land. There was no need for haste.

Besides, they were taking all of the hidden back roads, paths and avenues that Braid could think of.

The flight was also quiet. Natalia had no questions, it seemed, nor did she want to share her ideas. More than once, Braid asked if she was alright. She would just look at him with a smile, sometimes nod-- not always. Braid had grown accustomed to the quiet and stared off ahead of him, keeping his attention in a broad spans in front of him, trying to spot any oddities of anyone trying to track them. Suddenly, he heard her speak:

"These are your birth home."

He looked over his shoulder at her, his eye-brow quirked a bit, before he answered. "Yes, this is my home. It's why I was coming here, to begin with: I was coming home." He was quiet after he said that, a sense of solemn settling around him as he realized how his home really wasn't home anymore. He made a face, his mouth twisting in a rueful smile and finally, he shook his head.

"Not much of a home left, I'm afraid, but the farm house has to still be there. The attic has a lock on it, so if anyone's cleaned out the home, there'll be things up there. Including a bed." He sighed and his shoulders slumped a bit; he had deflated in a moment of melancholy. This melancholy also lowered his alert, and he didn't see, hear, or even notice, the Soulless that ambled behind them some hundred yards at a frightening quick pace...
 
Braid explained his return with something less then enthusiasm. Though Natalia had her hands clasped in front of him through out the ride, she had been more of a light presence then anything else. Now though she crossed her arms around him, with a noticeable embrace and her cheek against his back.

Braid was receiving a hug from Natalia, and giving him in something better then words the knowledge that she had heard what he had said.

"At least you have the memories," she said after several long moments. She did not move away back into the casual position she had been riding in before though she did loosen her arms a bit.

Behind them a flock of pheasants suddenly took flight all of the sudden, barely gaining enough altitude to make it over them. Natalia jerked her head up in surprise, then she looked behind them. "Braid I think..." she started before making a scream of startlement and clutching to Braid's shirt as she was yanked to the left. A man had tried pulling her down by grabbing onto her leg.
 
A smile spread over his face when Natalia gave him that affection squeeze around his waist. It surprised him, but it was a welcome surprise. The girl had scant showed him a lick of herself since meeting her; he could make out traces of compassion, and even some kind of... determination. Those hardly constituted the whole of a personality, however.

Along with his melancholy, Braid was able to lose himself in the warmth of the gesture. The two halves of emotion tugged at Braid, and made his mouth contort in a strange sort of expression. His mind began to wander to other thoughts, to round out and smooth certain ideas when suddenly the scream and the sudden lurch at his shirt quite literally tugged him out of his mental escape!

Braid twisted around in the archaic leather saddle in time to see the Soulless clutching at and attempting to de-horse the woman that gripped on him as if her life depended on it. With things like this, her life certainly did!

Pulling on the reigns hastily, he kicked at the horse's haunches to put them at a full gallop. They didn't get ten paces before Soulless on either side of the dirt road burst out of the 2-meter high stalks of half-dead crops. One was caught underneath the horse's trampling feet, tripping it up and sending Natalia and Braid flying. Braid hit the ground harshly and without delicacy, feeling the wind knocked out of him. He only hoped that Natalia had landed better than he.

Before he could stand, he already had his rune-etched longsword pulled from his scabbard, ready to fight. "Are you alright?!" He called out, nearly shouting. He couldn't afford to look over his shoulder; the Soulless nearest ambled towards them with a focus, more coming out of the crops that flanked the road. There were six within 5-meters of them, and the one that had snatched at Natalia's leg farther down the road was coming at them in something close to a jog. Seven altogether.

The first reached him just half-a-step before two of it's allies that moved in concert with each other. Taking a step back, Braid let out a wide horizontal strike that he let carry through as he threw his arms out to either side of him, now gripping the sword one-handed. The Soulless' entrails spilled out showing black, rotted organs. The one ambling next to it, half-a-step behind, had it's hand cleaved in half, splitting it from hand up to forearm. Braid brought his swung-out arms over and behind his head, gripping the sword once more in two, and brought it down into the third Soulless, cleaving it from neck to mid-section. He thrust his foot out to kick it away and off his sword.

Braid was a whirlwind amongst the zombified humans. Despite their lack of pain and increased strength, they only ever had their hands on him long enough to rip away his overcoat. He struck them down with extreme prejudice, and with the skill fitting a blademaster spun out of old stories. The fight lasted but a scant few seconds, but it played out like slow-motion for him... and anyone else watching.
 
Natalia laid for a moment like a rag doll, trying to catch her breath after being thrown from the horse. As she lifted herself up, she saw Braid already with his sword pulled out.

"I'm fine," she called back.

At this point though, Braid's attention was not on her but those before them. There they were, about a half dozen men. Their clothing indicating merchants who traveled the open road. These were not the type of people to waylay strangers on a back road in the countryside.

These were also no longer people that had control of their lives. They were called the soulless by city people, and with good reason for their souls had been captured. There was a device that wizard's could make. A flash from it could cause one's soul to travel out of their eyes and the imprint of it on a sheet of paper that came out of the box like a portrait of the person. As long as the picture existed the soul was trapped, and the one that had possession of the soul picture could control the person.

The soulless could be left alone, and told to go back to their normal life, but without a soul it would be a shadow of their former life. Those close to them would one by one abandon them, for there would be no connection, unless they could recognize the signs.

That was the ones that were not commanded to do anything. Once they were commanded to do something, they went about it with single minded determination. No, there was no mind or determination, there was only the following of the command.

These former men had been commanded to take them, and nothing but death would stop them.

Death that Braid was bringing to them.

Despite being on the road for quite some time, Natalia had never seen a man die a violent death. Though they were without their soul, these were still men, or were men. Without their soul even their own body was slowly going against them.

Natalia stood and covered her mouth when she saw the first one split at it's middle. The tears started to form as the second lost it's arm, and ran slowly when the third was cut down.

"No, no," Natalia muttered as she shook her head, watching as Braid became the embodiment of death to these men for she saw not only men dying, but she saw as as life was fleeing them, something come back to them for a moment, a split second for the soulless to regain their soul and be confused. Only death was releasing their soul and yet if their soul could be released sooner their death would not be needed.

There was limbs and gore scattered around Braid now, who had skillfully and efficiently eradicated the threat. When he turned around though, he saw that their were repercussions even to that which saved their life for Natalia was even paler then before and shaking slightly.
 
The fight, if it could even be called that, lasted but a brief moment. It was a one-sided thing, almost an unfair exposition of Braid's skill and ability in dancing his fine dance of death. His movements were masterful, precise and a free-flow of grace and even beauty. But what beauty could be found in massacre and death? Braid's sword-work was a thing of beauty, easily displaying his sublime mastery of skill, but what he did was hardly a beautiful thing. It was no different from a man taking a stone to his brother's head while pinning him down.

Braid's breath was barely anything deeper than what a man would feel after a light jog. A thin sheen of sweat was around his face and forehead, but it was the cold sweat of a man burning adrenaline. His eyes were focused, and sharp, but his gaze was... Distant. He was seeing nothing, and everything, all at once. He spun carefully, his guard up as he took several broad steps and let the world spin around him in carefully placed steps. Finally satisfied that the danger was gone, he lowered his sword, but kept it gripped loosely in one hand.

He found Natalia, her eyes finding and fleeing and finding again the crimson carnage that was now splashed all across the compact dirt road around them. The tall stalks of grain and corn around them was also covered in the pitter-pattering of red, streaked across in a criss-cross pattern.

"Natalia? Are you alright?" He asked her quickly, concern heavy on his face and voice. Tears streamed down her dirty face, leaving long streaks in the thin crust of dust and dirt. With his free hand, he grasped one of her shoulders and faced her to him solidly.

"Are you hurt? Natalia?" She was distant, her eyes working around on the scene around them much as his had. Instead of looking for the next danger, however, she was absorbing everything, and casting it all away at once. It hit Braid, then: she had never seen death before, let alone this... this massacre!

"Damn!" Braid sword and set Natalia gently on the ground, her legs giving out from under her as she fell to her knees in a soft half-sob. He sought the nearest Soulless corpse and cleaned his two-handed blade on it before sheathing it. He gathered their things, but could not find Bela the horse. She must have ran off; with any luck, she'd find her way back to her Innkeeper owner.

After taking the long seconds to gather their things and to gauge where they were and what they needed to do next, Braid snatched Natalia up gently by her shoulders and stood her up. "We have to go," he told her with a soft urgency in her voice. She looked at him, then past him, and made little to no effort to move her legs. With a swear, Braid gently lifted her up and began carrying her the few hundred yards left that separated them from his childhood farm.
 
The air became thick and electric, the sun's light seemed to dim and the rustle and whistles of the wind and birds became fainter. None of this was drastic. It was so subtle if not for the fact that Braid was still extra alter due to the attack he may never have noticed.

The farm house was now easily in view and in little time they were with in it's protective walls. There was some small fortune, for the door to the farm house was heavy and the lock and latch was still in very good condition. they were in a dusty cobwebbed room, that was dim due to half drawn curtains. They were in a dusty cobwebbed room, that was dim due to half drawn curtains. It was obvious someone and taken time to clean up the house the last time it was occupied. There were sheets over the furnishings and the fireplace was clean. Another fortune, someone had left suitable pieces of wood beside the fireplace for a new fire.

Natalia did not seem to show any indication that she noticed they were no longer outdoors. In the time that it took Braid to get up to the house Natalia's tears had stopped, but she made not a sound, did not move, in fact her eyes seemed very far away. It was very likely she noticed nothing at all. This was much worse then the far away look she had had earlier.

If before she had only wandered away from her mind and body, this time surely she was running away.
 
The old farmhouse was as he remembered it, if the inside was dirtier and hadn't seen daylight in some years. Furniture was covered, corners filled with cobwebs. Hazy light beams cast through cracks in the boarded-over windows, muddled by what remained of the half-drawn curtains, making the inside much darker than it should have been.

All of this was unseen by Braid however, as he cradled Natalia in his arms and brought her inside.

He set her at the large sofa he had laid across so many times as a child. It was covered in a thick white sheet, protecting it from dust. He would have thrown it aside, but for his full arms. He set her over it as gently as he could and crouched down next to her. He turned her face to look at his, and saw just how distant and lifeless her eyes were. He could see the stain of streaking tears on her dirty skin in the vague light of the home, and swore quietly to himself.

He should have known that seeing such violence would be irreparable to her. But... how could he know?!

Braid went to their pack of supplies and pulled out a small canteen of water. He filled one of the tin mugs and set it to her lips, urging her to drink. He lifted her head, trying to help her, but swore when he simply spilled it all across her front.

~~~~~~~
​

Several hours had passed, and a small lantern burned on the floor between them. The darkness had since settled, and in the time between arriving to the old farm house and now Braid had taken to covering all of the windows solidly, keeping out any light, but specifically, keeping in any light! He also secured any loose windows, locked the back and front doors, and checked the home for any usable supplies.

He found none, and had taken no time to lament and think on the past. He simply gathered all he could to make the den area as comfortable as he could for Natalia, and sat in the muted light of the lantern with her.

She had been quiet and as still as she had been when he brought her in. The only tell-tale sign of her living was her soft breathing, and the occasional blinking of her eyes. Braid had sat and watched her for some time, thinking on and about her, wondering who she was, where she came from... what she was.

He couldn't help but come back to one thing, however: just how beautiful she was. There was something vaguely elfen with her appearance, with a soft, simple beauty that was incomparable to other women. She was childlike in all things, including her features, but there was also a deep sense of maturity there. As if... she had seen something no one else had, or knew something that no one else did. It was intriguing.

After several more hours, Braid had made a small pot of cold stew. He didn't dare build a fire, in case there were those that searched for them nearby. He feasted silently, leaving a small portion for Natalia just in case. He tried urging her to eat, but it was to no avail.

Following his meal, he broke down his gear and slid out of the shredded leather cuirass he was so accustomed to wearing. He set his sword flat on the floor, and rolled out a bedroll next to it. He sighed as he stepped out of his boots, and looked at Natalia one last time, only to see her still laying there as she did. With another sigh, he fell to his knees and made a cross across his head and chest, before bowing down his head in nightly meditation.

When he opened his eyes, his vision landed on Natalia's still-comatose form. Being suddenly overtaken by an urge, he leaned across the small space that separated them and set his face close to hers. Hesitatingly, he brought his face closer, and closer... And finally, he kissed her, unable to hold back any longer.

It was a soft kiss, sweet and gentle with only the faintest sign of emotion. It was a kiss spurned on by a feeling Braid could not place; it was as if something, or someone, was urging him to it. He fought only for a moment, but it was a fight he did not care to win. And so he kissed her.

Following his kiss, he looked down at her with softer eyes, something close to affection there, and whispered: "Goodnight."
 
Darkness and light merged and fled and merged once more. The sound was constant, but felt more than heard. Natalia never wanted this. She never wanted to bare witness and do nothing as men were victimized so.

Floating in the world within the world, Natalia separated herself from it all. She refused, utterly and completely that anyone else could find them and thus be harmed by them. Keep themselves hidden, and then explore the world. No, become one with the world.

Everything in life was connected and Natalia could see it translated to her in the form of strings. They where not strings, but this was how she always saw them. The strings were fading now, she was not going to need the metaphor if she stayed to watch the parade of life and death.

Violence, death, none of it had to impact her if she just stayed and faded away while becoming. Natalia would always be, and at the same time she was almost gone. Gladly she abandoned the world that was but the surface of everything, that only knew cause and effect in the crudest terms. She'd abandon her physical shackles for the peace of knowledge, true knowledge. Wasn't it a gift? It did not seem she was paying a price.

Natalia could almost feel her consciousness expand more, expand further then her brain could have ever been able to comprehend. This was true freedom! This was living without life.

Yet life was not done with her yet.

A metaphor, a string, attached itself to her. It wasn't all that strong. She could easily break it. She grasped it, not sure what she wanted to do when it moved. Natalia nearly dropped it until she recognized the movement, it was that of a beating heart.

Emotion, memories, and a need to finish what was started. Was it hers alone? Just a little longer. She had to stay just a little bit longer. And she had to do it now, before it all faded away into so much static again.

"Please, don't. I don't want to be alone!"
 
Braid watched the young girl suddenly stir underneath his gaze. Something came back to her eyes, a glittering moistness that let him know that somebody was home. Rose tinted her cheeks once again, banishing that cold pallor that had begun to overtake her complexion, and her breathing came in less sporadic and haggard and was now the conscious breathing of someone living.

It seemed that Natalia's eyes found him, her focus on reality coming back in and with a sudden surge of words she almost shouted: "Please, don't. I don't want to be alone!"

His brow twisted with unspoken words, but he suddenly leaned forward and draped his arms over the girl. He bowed his head above hers, and cradled her where she lay.

"You're not alone," he whispered to her reassuringly. She must have come out of some... some trance, or dream, or something. She was probably still in some kind of shock, as well. There was nothing in it for trying to correct her, but rather, soothe her; comfort her.

"You're not alone," he reiterated, brushing his hand over her head and hair. "I'm here, I'll protect you. We're safe.

Welcome back."
 
Not unexpectedly Natalia tumbled into a sob. Her hands clutched the fabric of Braid's shirt tightly as the horror of what she had seen gave way to expression. She did not cry unendedly. Once she had a chance to break down she already seemed to be getting better. The weeping became weaker and finally she pulled back a fraction to look up at Braid.

Her eyes were watery and saddened, but by the look of her face it was obvious she wanted to move on. The set of her mouth, determined.

"If I worried you, I apologize. I go away sometimes." Natalia was telling the truth as much as that was concerned. There was no reason to tell him she really had not had much intention to come back. She wasn't sure why or how, but she knew he was the reason she didn't leave completely.

The memories while away were becoming hazy and Natalia knew that she would only recall the edges of how things were. It was how it always was and should be. What was beyond this life was too sweet and Natalia knew it was tempting, too tempting, to stay there instead of continue on in this world, in this life. One of these days the temptation would be too much. She was glad it wasn't today though, this town needed help, help she could provide.

It then occurred to Natalia it was a bit cold in the room, and dark too. She couldn't imagine why that was. She tilted her head in curiosity. "Is there a reason there's no fire?"
 
Pointing out the lack of fire was all the universe needed; wind buffeted the long-dead farm home, rattling and shaking loose boards all around them. Braid shivered as the cold breeze lapped against him, cool tendrils crawling up the minute cracks of his wardrobe. He took warming refuge in the girl he held, and secured his arms around and against her.

"It's dangerous," he said conversationally, if low in volume. The silence and the darkness seemed to demand a kind of respect and solemnity. "The fire is too bright, in such a dead house, not to mention the smoke. It would be a literal beacon in the darkness. Those that come to hurt you--us--well... It would be announcing where we were."

He sighed a bit, realizing where he was and what he was doing. He didn't revel in combat, but he was not one to turn and run away. If there was a confrontation, let it be done with! Turn and face the aggressor and have them turn away. Since a young boy, he loathed running away, and he felt that was what he was doing now.

But he knew better. He had to guard this girl, as well his own life, against an unknown enemy. It would be different if there were just thugs, men with sword and stick, but this was... different. Braid couldn't help but believe there was some kind of divine energy guiding him, bringing him home at this exact moment, to face these particular circumstances. Had he been moments late, or even early, then he wouldn't be here in this moment now.

With her.

A blush lit his cheeks, and he nearly laughed at the rush of embarassment he felt. He was suddenly glad the room was as dark as it was.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked suddenly, those fleeting, youthful thoughts vanishing in an instant. "Sunrise will be here, soon, and I--we--need to rest before we start our trek tomorrow."
 
Natalia frowned slightly, though she understood his words it didn't make much sense. She had made the house safe. The land knew Braid, he was born here and raised here after all and was now going to protect it. It liked her, and she in returned liked the land back. There was not going to be another sneak attack, and no one would know they were there. In fact even those that knew of this house would be unable to find it.


That he didn't already know this didn't dawn on her, her mind still swirling back into place and how reality worked for most people never being something she instinctively grasped. For now she would leave it alone, it could have been that he was tired she thought.


"I am much better now, thank you," she looked at him and smiled. She seemed at the very least unconcern with Braid's arms around her. In fact she seemed relaxed and comfortable.


"Sleep would be good, though I think it will still get colder tonight," Natalia thought of the various ways she could make the room warmer without a fire. There were ways, she had used them before. It was just a matter of what was most appropriate. Not that the minor spirits here seemed to mind what she did, they rarely did since she always was where she was to help.


Then there was the subject of what they were to do tomorrow, but no, she would sleep tonight and tomorrow they would be better at trying to determine what to do next. Natalia sadly had to admit to herself this was far beyond any the encounters with wizards, those that would spoil the land and abuse the people, she had before. Alone she wasn't sure how she would manage. It was good that she wasn't alone.
 
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