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There are moments in everyone's life where they face the dreadful possibility of having been outsmarted, of having been rendered a fool after experiencing an obvious lapse in sound judgement. For a person with average intellect, having these experiences was essential. They were a means to learn life-long lessons and it should have been the way Willow regarded her current situation, but no matter what angle she tried to look at it from, her blood still simmered at the thought of being tricked.
Perhaps it wouldn't have been so aggravating if she had been the only affected. At least then, she would only have to worry about herself. That was not how it happened, though. Her younger brother, Braxton, had also been wrangled into the mess.
...maybe it was the other way around. Braxton was the one that had pulled her into it if she were willing to make an excuse for herself, but even if she gave the thought any merit, she still shouldn't have allowed the temptation of having access to a possible cure blind her to what, in hindsight, was obviously a ploy to dupe unsuspecting townsfolk. Desperation also had a heavy hand in biting her tongue to the suspicions of the two gentlemen spinning the tale of a knightly Order that traveled the lands in search of rare and possibly magical items. Still. She had a difficult time accepting her mistake.
Braxton, of course, had been snagged at the mere mention of knighthood. It was why he confided in his sister. The excitement of such a perceived glorious life was too much to keep quiet. Besides, she would have tanned his hide if he had just up and disappeared without a word and if any knew Willow, they would know she wasn't one who would rest until her kid brother had been found.
Braxton was no longer a child, a fact he had to remind her every so often, but he still harbored an untainted innocence she wished to preserve, whether he knew it or not. As such, it was difficult to stand aside and allow him reign of his life without her meddling. Of course, all of that changed the day a darkness settled over their town in the form of a mysterious disease. Willow's grip on his freedom had tightened, so it wasn't surprising she had invited herself to join him. If he had been displeased, he didn't show it. It wouldn't have discouraged her if he had. The fact the Order consisted entirely of men hadn't deterred her either.
Perhaps it should have. The thought of having to hide her true identity should have been daunting, but to Willow, it was just another challenge, an obstacle she could overcome if it meant she'd be given the opportunity to seek out a cure for what plagued her people, for what would ultimately save her parents' lives. The ability to keep an eye on her brother was an added incentive. So, could she really blame herself for turning a blind eye to her suspicions?
It's been several days since she and her brother found themselves practically abandoned in the Order's encampment two day's ride east of their town. The reception wasn't exactly welcoming. The sudden disappearance of the two gentlemen should have told her all she needed, but the perplexed aggravation of those in charge, especially the intimidating fellow she later learned the name of--Garridan--had painted a nice little picture of deep trouble. Being practical, she had suggested she and her brother could just leave. Apparently that was a laughable matter to some, a downright impossibility to others.
No, they're part of the Order now. There was no going back home. Not after having been subjected to their odd initiation that, if she were honest, had left her feeling...strange. Willow didn't just have this sense of being manipulated and the associating shame hovering over her. She was also fighting this peculiar sense of physical change, of something foreign swimming through her blood that somehow began altering the very fabric of her being.
Over the next few days, she had watched Braxton carefully. He embraced their situation with wide arms, seemingly oblivious to the tension between them and the others and if he did mention feeling more alert, having more energy, he attributed it to the excitement of having the opportunity to finally make something of himself, of being an esteemed knight -- a boy's, now a young man's, dream come true. As such, Willow didn't give voice to her observations threatening to become concerns.
So, the colors of the world seemed a little sharper, a little brighter. So, she could see the individual dew drops on a leaf of a tree thirty feet away. So, she could smell the rank odor of the men's sweaty feet three tents down from hers. It wasn't cause for concern. Right? Maybe it was the air in the woods playing tricks on her. Maybe she had finally snapped under the stress of all that weighed down on her and now her mind generated absurdity to distract her from the devastation of realizing she's become incapable of making any logical decisions.
That was the danger of keeping to oneself. Irrational thoughts had the opportunity to grow and fester if left unchallenged by an outside source, so after just a few days, she was starting to wonder if the men themselves were...normal. The past two nights, she's noticed them grow more irritable, more quiet. She didn't dare mention the cries and hollers they made through the night as they slept, born of horrific nightmares, if she had to guess-- awful sounds her brother could surprisingly sleep through.
She, on the other hand, could not and perhaps it was sleep deprivation that was warping her mind of reality. It had gotten to a point where she could no longer lurk on the sidelines, quietly observing all that she could. She had to do something and so, offered the men neighboring her tent she shared with her brother to sharpen and polish their blades. Their reluctance was apparent, distrust hanging heavy in the air, but after demonstrating her capability on the blade of one who had given in to her prodding, word had spread through the camp and she found herself with a pile of swords to work on throughout the day.
It was a mindless task, but busy work and she put extra care into each blade. She had been working on them since sunrise and now it hung overhead, its rays filtering down through the leaves of the tree she sought shelter under. She had to move into the shade. The skin on the back of her neck was prickling with the threat of being burned, though she was sure it was as red as a tomato and would make known the damage done later in the day. Chopping off her dark hair to aid in her disguise had exposed skin to elements it had always been sheltered from. It was one of the more annoying consequences of assuming the guise of a man.
Other irritants would present themselves soon enough, she was sure, but Willow was one that tried to live in the moment. Worrying about what may be would only drive her insane and she may already be knocking on insanity's door. She had to be careful lest she lose her mind altogether. Circumstances were certainly attempting to rob her of her good senses and the last thing she needed was being unable to decipher truth from perception.
Seemingly wholly engrossed in her task, Willow made a show of inspecting the blade she was working on. Holding it up to eye level, she gazed down to its point, rotating it this way and that so the light danced off the blade. She didn't let on that she had an ear for the men ten or so yards off to her left talking about this settlement she's been hearing bits and pieces of ever since her arrival. From what she had gathered, the Order was looking for something there and their presence had left its people nervous.
There were many things in the camp she wanted to understand more about. She supposed she could always approach Garridan and ask. He seemed to be the one all of the newer members interacted with, but there was something unnerving about being unable to look him in the eye. The eyes were windows to the soul. It was how she read people. Being unable to do so with Garridan meant she had to focus more on the way his body moved and the way his words sounded, both things she knew people could learn to control quite well. It's why she held the gazes of people she spoke to. Aside from the eyes, all else could lie and she wasn't one who took deception well.
Not that Garridan was a liar. At least, he presented himself as one who upheld honor and perhaps he wasn't so irritated with her or Braxton as he was with the situation and the men who had disappeared. Obviously, something wasn't done according to code, so although Willow had questions, she bided her time. She would wait for things to settle a little more, wait for her presence to become more accepted, before she started pestering anyone with questions.
...hopefully. If she were smart, she would wait.
Perhaps it wouldn't have been so aggravating if she had been the only affected. At least then, she would only have to worry about herself. That was not how it happened, though. Her younger brother, Braxton, had also been wrangled into the mess.
...maybe it was the other way around. Braxton was the one that had pulled her into it if she were willing to make an excuse for herself, but even if she gave the thought any merit, she still shouldn't have allowed the temptation of having access to a possible cure blind her to what, in hindsight, was obviously a ploy to dupe unsuspecting townsfolk. Desperation also had a heavy hand in biting her tongue to the suspicions of the two gentlemen spinning the tale of a knightly Order that traveled the lands in search of rare and possibly magical items. Still. She had a difficult time accepting her mistake.
Braxton, of course, had been snagged at the mere mention of knighthood. It was why he confided in his sister. The excitement of such a perceived glorious life was too much to keep quiet. Besides, she would have tanned his hide if he had just up and disappeared without a word and if any knew Willow, they would know she wasn't one who would rest until her kid brother had been found.
Braxton was no longer a child, a fact he had to remind her every so often, but he still harbored an untainted innocence she wished to preserve, whether he knew it or not. As such, it was difficult to stand aside and allow him reign of his life without her meddling. Of course, all of that changed the day a darkness settled over their town in the form of a mysterious disease. Willow's grip on his freedom had tightened, so it wasn't surprising she had invited herself to join him. If he had been displeased, he didn't show it. It wouldn't have discouraged her if he had. The fact the Order consisted entirely of men hadn't deterred her either.
Perhaps it should have. The thought of having to hide her true identity should have been daunting, but to Willow, it was just another challenge, an obstacle she could overcome if it meant she'd be given the opportunity to seek out a cure for what plagued her people, for what would ultimately save her parents' lives. The ability to keep an eye on her brother was an added incentive. So, could she really blame herself for turning a blind eye to her suspicions?
It's been several days since she and her brother found themselves practically abandoned in the Order's encampment two day's ride east of their town. The reception wasn't exactly welcoming. The sudden disappearance of the two gentlemen should have told her all she needed, but the perplexed aggravation of those in charge, especially the intimidating fellow she later learned the name of--Garridan--had painted a nice little picture of deep trouble. Being practical, she had suggested she and her brother could just leave. Apparently that was a laughable matter to some, a downright impossibility to others.
No, they're part of the Order now. There was no going back home. Not after having been subjected to their odd initiation that, if she were honest, had left her feeling...strange. Willow didn't just have this sense of being manipulated and the associating shame hovering over her. She was also fighting this peculiar sense of physical change, of something foreign swimming through her blood that somehow began altering the very fabric of her being.
Over the next few days, she had watched Braxton carefully. He embraced their situation with wide arms, seemingly oblivious to the tension between them and the others and if he did mention feeling more alert, having more energy, he attributed it to the excitement of having the opportunity to finally make something of himself, of being an esteemed knight -- a boy's, now a young man's, dream come true. As such, Willow didn't give voice to her observations threatening to become concerns.
So, the colors of the world seemed a little sharper, a little brighter. So, she could see the individual dew drops on a leaf of a tree thirty feet away. So, she could smell the rank odor of the men's sweaty feet three tents down from hers. It wasn't cause for concern. Right? Maybe it was the air in the woods playing tricks on her. Maybe she had finally snapped under the stress of all that weighed down on her and now her mind generated absurdity to distract her from the devastation of realizing she's become incapable of making any logical decisions.
That was the danger of keeping to oneself. Irrational thoughts had the opportunity to grow and fester if left unchallenged by an outside source, so after just a few days, she was starting to wonder if the men themselves were...normal. The past two nights, she's noticed them grow more irritable, more quiet. She didn't dare mention the cries and hollers they made through the night as they slept, born of horrific nightmares, if she had to guess-- awful sounds her brother could surprisingly sleep through.
She, on the other hand, could not and perhaps it was sleep deprivation that was warping her mind of reality. It had gotten to a point where she could no longer lurk on the sidelines, quietly observing all that she could. She had to do something and so, offered the men neighboring her tent she shared with her brother to sharpen and polish their blades. Their reluctance was apparent, distrust hanging heavy in the air, but after demonstrating her capability on the blade of one who had given in to her prodding, word had spread through the camp and she found herself with a pile of swords to work on throughout the day.
It was a mindless task, but busy work and she put extra care into each blade. She had been working on them since sunrise and now it hung overhead, its rays filtering down through the leaves of the tree she sought shelter under. She had to move into the shade. The skin on the back of her neck was prickling with the threat of being burned, though she was sure it was as red as a tomato and would make known the damage done later in the day. Chopping off her dark hair to aid in her disguise had exposed skin to elements it had always been sheltered from. It was one of the more annoying consequences of assuming the guise of a man.
Other irritants would present themselves soon enough, she was sure, but Willow was one that tried to live in the moment. Worrying about what may be would only drive her insane and she may already be knocking on insanity's door. She had to be careful lest she lose her mind altogether. Circumstances were certainly attempting to rob her of her good senses and the last thing she needed was being unable to decipher truth from perception.
Seemingly wholly engrossed in her task, Willow made a show of inspecting the blade she was working on. Holding it up to eye level, she gazed down to its point, rotating it this way and that so the light danced off the blade. She didn't let on that she had an ear for the men ten or so yards off to her left talking about this settlement she's been hearing bits and pieces of ever since her arrival. From what she had gathered, the Order was looking for something there and their presence had left its people nervous.
There were many things in the camp she wanted to understand more about. She supposed she could always approach Garridan and ask. He seemed to be the one all of the newer members interacted with, but there was something unnerving about being unable to look him in the eye. The eyes were windows to the soul. It was how she read people. Being unable to do so with Garridan meant she had to focus more on the way his body moved and the way his words sounded, both things she knew people could learn to control quite well. It's why she held the gazes of people she spoke to. Aside from the eyes, all else could lie and she wasn't one who took deception well.
Not that Garridan was a liar. At least, he presented himself as one who upheld honor and perhaps he wasn't so irritated with her or Braxton as he was with the situation and the men who had disappeared. Obviously, something wasn't done according to code, so although Willow had questions, she bided her time. She would wait for things to settle a little more, wait for her presence to become more accepted, before she started pestering anyone with questions.
...hopefully. If she were smart, she would wait.