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In which there are some consequences.

       Human beings as whole were really quite offensive to faunkind. Not only did they have the awful habits of being stupid and foul, but they also had a nasty practice of cutting down the biggest, oldest, and wisest trees they could find to make buildings out of them. It was even worse when they burned fresh wood for no reason but to clear a field. Really, the larger population of man had no respect at all for living things.

       Having kept with that basic sentiment that most fauns have, even when I settled in Readimina I refused to call a human structure my home. Instead, I picked a secluded spot a mile from the village center and went to work. Using my mediocre skills with plant-related magic, I was eventually able to convince three large willows to become my home. They still grew, of course, which meant I had to make adjustments every few months, but it was a small price to pay to avoid living in a room made of dead things for the rest of my life.

       The sun had almost cleared the horizon when we reached the clearing around my house. I do not think the dragon-kin realized we had until I pointed it out. After all, a house made of trees is perfectly camouflaged in a forest.

       I barely spoke as we approached, my mind still full of unwelcome worry. Above all else – above the threat of being attacked or outcast – was the worry that something horrible would happen to Morrense in my absence. I doubted anyone in this village would take kindly to him after rumors of the situation spread, even though Gorn would definitely stick up for him. With a regretful sigh, I acknowledged that word had probably already spread far enough, considering the size of that lynch mob.

       My thoughts were eventually interrupted by my intuition: something felt wrong here beside the fact that I had essentially risked our lives for the sake of some relic-seeking dragon. The air around my home seemed incorrect. My only comfort was that I realized it sooner than later.

       We were only some twenty feet away from my front door, but I crouched to the ground, halving my already slight stature. I turned my head back to Levent, who had stopped and was looking at me, baffled. I gestured at him to stop and then did a little hand motion that I hoped indicated that he should make himself less conspicuous, but ended up looking more like I was telling him to start beating a drum.

       He raised an eyebrow below his long, choppy bangs, but seemed to know what I was getting at. He also seemed aware that crouching would not hide him as well as it did me, so he simply stepped off the path and concealed himself behind a tree.

       Fairly satisfied with our sudden stealth, I approached my front door. A dim light flickered through the paned window – something I knew was suspicious. Someone was inside my house and I was just going to have to show them that I did not appreciate the intrusion, especially when there were thirty-some-odd angry villagers with various weapons less than a mile away. I may have been immortal, but I had not yet lived long enough to be flippant with my personal security.

      I reached into my pocket and decided that the small pair of scissors at least resembled something threatening and slipped my fingers around them. In a motion somewhat swifter than I was aware I could perform, I pulled open my front door, jumped inside and brandished the scissors like they were a touch more deadly than they really were. The single occupant of my living room jumped so violently that they almost slipped off the bench they had been sitting on. I nearly laughed out loud.

       “Morrense!” I gasped in a voice that was way too relieved for its own good.

       The old man righted himself in his seat with some difficulty. “Goodness!” He murmured. He made another surprised noise as I embraced him. Perfect! If he hid here he would be a little safer from the angry villagers. Sensing his discomfort with my sudden display of affection, I released him and put my scissor back in my pocket. Morrense opened his mouth, about to speak, before he stared over my shoulder, dumbfounded.

       “So, it’s true then,” was all he ended up saying. I heard the door shut behind me as Levent let himself in. He was entirely too large for my living room, and his monochromatic outfit looked odd in the yellow light from my lamps. He paused and acknowledged the old man for a moment before he began to slowly explore the room.

       “I guess so,” I rubbed my face against my palm. It would take a long time to explain, and I was in no mood to do so. “When did you get here?”

       “An hour ago, I suppose.” The old man’s eyes continued to follow the dragon-kin as he trudged about the room, hunched over slightly so that his long horns did not scratch the low ceiling. “I thought you were just asleep, but it turns out you were havin’ a little adventure.” He raised his bushy eyebrows a little, looking at me now. “Did you fall in the ocean?”

       I grimaced. My clothes were still damp, and I’m sure my hair had not dried in a very desirable fashion. “Something like that.”

       Levent was making me very nervous, hovering around the room like he was. At the moment, he was inspecting a rather delicate set of dishes that sat on a shelf. I frowned, and after a second of silence I finally said something.

       “Would you please sit down?” A touch of annoyance reached the last syllable, but the kin just turned around toward the table Morrense and I were at. His silence was really grating on me, and it did not help his first impressions. If he did this in front of the villagers, we would all be toast. I massaged my temples. Sleep seemed completely out of the question at this point.

“I’ll go make some tea.”

       I went into my kitchen, rustling around in the cabinets for some trace of tea leaves. I had never had guests, besides Morrense and his family, but whenever they were over I would serve them tea. It just seemed like the proper thing to do. However, it had been since before Gorn’s wedding that they had visited, and I had to search for several minutes before I remembered that the tea leaves were stashed behind several jars of preserved fruit.

       Burning long-dead wood for heat was something fauns did allow, seeing as it does go with the natural cycle of things, so it was no big deal for me to toss a bundle of kindling into the stove to boil water. I unburied my small metal teapot from a pile of old books, washed it out briefly and then set it down full of water on the stovetop. I would need a lot of tea to survive this day.

       The next task was to change out of my half-dried clothes, as they had taken to sticking to my skin unpleasantly. I made for the narrow stairway that led to my bedroom, peeking into the living room briefly to make sure nothing was amiss.

I scowled a little as I watched Morrense flipping through one of my many books rather nervously. Levent seemed to be attempting to stare through the far wall. I shook my head and moved on.

       It felt good to be in my room again, and I found myself staring at my bed longingly. I was forced to shake myself out of it. There was no way I could sleep right now.

       Having selected a new set of clothes from my closet, I traded them with my uncomfortably wet blouse and skirt, putting them in a pile to be washed later. The golden pendant found itself on backwards somewhere during this process, nearly choking me, and I was forced to adjust it.

       My coat was somewhat built for handling dampness, though it had only ever stood up to rain before, so I threw it across my bed to dry. I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed. The water was probably warm by now. Picking the now wrinkled milkweed blooms out of my pockets, I tucked them in my arms.

       Back down the stairs I went, checking again on the visitors in my living room. They had not moved at all, and I rolled my eyes. I would have to rescue Morrense from the silence that was Levent Itzallion.

       Having put the white flowers into a bowl, I wrestled three mismatched clay mugs from a cabinet. I haphazardly placed the tea leaves in them and filled them with steaming water. Never having any sugar, I grabbed a dusty jar of honey and a spoon instead. Placing all of this on a metal tray that I only used for such occasions, I braced myself before returning to the living room.

       Morrense smiled as I entered, while Levent looked rather like he had just stepped in something horrible. I passed out the mugs, and the old man eagerly began shoveling honey out of the jar. The dragon-kin simply stared at the tea, which had steeped to a pleasant amber color already. As I took the honey from Morrense and began to sweeten my own drink, I realized that I did not know if dragon-kin were even familiar with tea. By the way he was staring at it, though, I judged that they were probably not.

       I pushed the honey toward him, shaking him out of whatever tea-induced horror he had just been in, and he mimicked Morrense and my method of scooping it and stirring it into the tea. I tried desperately not to stare, distracting myself by tearing the petals of the milkweed blossoms apart.

       “So,” I said abruptly. The silence was killing me. “This is Morrense,” I gestured at the old man, who seemed a little concerned about my feigned nonchalance. Levent nodded shortly, not really paying attention. “And the trouble-maker here is Levent.” Morrense just gaped.

       There were a few more minutes of staring into tea before Morrense decided to speak.

       “What brings you to the Volin Isle, lad?” The old man’s somewhat jovial tone made me smile slightly.

       The dragon-kin looked at me for a split second before turning his strange eyes toward Morrense. “Official business,” he said gruffly. “I don’t have permission to discuss the details.”

I blinked. A simple question from Morrense had gotten more information out of the kin than hours of my pestering had. The old man smiled a little.

       “That doesn’t involve hurting anyone in the village, I trust?” There he went, asking the question we all wanted to know.

       Instead of answering as straightforwardly as he had before, Levent lowered his eyes and his voice was quieter when he spoke. “Harm to civilians of the human republic is to be avoided at all costs.”

       It sounded like he was quoting a rulebook of some kind, which was unnerving, but if I were to cut out the jargon, it sounded sincere enough. Morrense was a little less trusting.

       “Is that so?”

       Levent opened his mouth to say something more, but he was interrupted as a metal pot crashed through my front window and clattered to the floor. The dragon-kin and I were on our feet in a moment, and I ran to help Morrense off of the bench.

       “What the devil?” The old man snarled as he hobbled to the back of the room.

       “Come out, faun!” yelled a voice from outside. I groaned audibly. In the time we were having our awkward tea party, the angry mob had decided to ambush my home. Did they have any idea how much a good window cost?

       I rushed over to Levent, telling him straight out. “It’s probably best if you stay out of sight. I’ll handle this.” He moved away from the door, and I suddenly felt very scared. I was not brave - I never had been - but I knew how to talk like I was. Reaching down and taking the metal pot from the floor, I walked outside.

      The first face I saw in the torchlight was the unpleasant visage of one of the burly strangers, who smirked hideously. I tore my eyes from his, and looked around the crowd, trying to keep my head held high. There were not only stern-looking farmers and their sons in the mob, but women as well. Though the ugly strangers truly looked bent on some punishment, I could plainly see the fear that laced the others’ serious expressions.

       “Can I help you folks?” I tried to smile, but my face could not do it. I settled for a frown instead.

       “Don’t talk to us like that, ya foul immortal, you know damn right what we want.” My ears turned backward, my cowardice quickly being overrun by an indignant feeling. The man grinned, showing off yellow teeth.

       “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re implying, sir,” I looked away from his face. “But throwing a pot through my window is not the best way to get what you want.”

       “Shut your lying mouth!” He bellowed. “We know that dragon’s in there,” he pointed his torch at my house, “and if you’re hiding him, we’ll make you wish you were dead!”

       His larger, but silent, companion nodded eagerly. It seemed as if they had less than a brain between the two. I was sure they would have had a more convincing threat if they had the power to think of one.

      “I’ll put this simply,” I growled, my eyes searching the crowd. Where was Gorn? Surely he should have stopped this nonsense by now? “I don’t have what you want, and I’d like you to leave.”

       The angry man grunted, yelled “Like Hell,” and before I knew it a torch was flying toward me. I flinched, but the painful impact I expected did not come. By the noise the crowd just made, though, something decidedly worse had happened.

        I opened my eyes to see the torch, extinguished, hit the ground, and my view of the crowd half blocked by a black cloak. I groaned internally. It could only get worse from here.

The strangers guffawed unpleasantly, murmurs and angry comments running through the rest of the crowd. All my bravery and anger had gone, replaced with an overwhelming shame. If they had not thought I was associated with the dragon before, they did now. I had betrayed what little trust had been left.

       “So, the little goat-girl is with the dragon! Immortals stick together, eh? Like slime on top of a pond.” I heard the words echoed by several in the crowd. Levent’s appearance was all the proof they needed.

       I feared for a moment that the dragon-kin was just going to stand there silently, like a testament to all my bad decisions in life. I was about to plead for some sort of truce, when he spoke. For a moment I did not realize it was Levent, for his voice was so much louder and clearer than I had heard before.

       “Human citizens of Readimina, I mean you no harm,” he sounded almost diplomatic, and it frightened me a little. “Please excuse my discourtesy of not telling you of my visit beforehand, but be assured that I have no previous association with this faun. I had no business intruding, and I will be taking my leave shortly.”

       The crowd stared at him, most looking surprised that he could speak at all, let alone form sentences they could hardly understand. I found myself staring with them. The only people who did not look convinced were the strangers, and I realized it was because they had already encountered him, and presumably they fought. No fancy speech would be erasing that memory any time soon.

       I watched the blood fill the first man’s face, his eyes bugging out madly. “All the beast speaks are spells upon you! Shut his demon mouth!” He snatched a pitchfork, but when he went to pitch it at us, as strong hand wrapped around his arm, stopping it.

       “Gorn!” I smiled. Finally!

       My friend scowled darkly at the burly man, plucking the weapon out of his hand. “That’s enough, stranger.” Though the men were larger than him, Gorn had the spirit of a giant, and he was not afraid of anything those two could dish out. Murmurs broke out in the crowd, and several faces turned to Gorn with relief.

       Gorn then looked to Levent, sizing him up and betraying no emotion under those bushy eyebrows. “You’ve caused quite a lot of trouble in our town, dragon. It’s best that you leave as soon as possible. By mid-day is preferable.”

       I expected nothing less than this. Gorn was a reasonable man, and he knew better than I what disruption this would cause. However, I did not foresee what he said next, his eyes now focused on me.

       “Naitlya, it’s probably best that you go, too.”

       My heart froze, and I struggled with the sudden welling of disbelief within me. There was no lie in Gorn’s words or in the sad look in his eyes. Tears threatened to spill over, but I fought them back. I was filled with an overwhelming confusion, coupled with the heavy understanding of what he said. He was right, and I knew that my welcome in the village of Readimina had just run out.

       “I understand,” I whispered, unable to say anything louder for fear of betraying too much emotion. Suddenly feeling very exposed, I wandered back into the house. Morrense touched me gently on the shoulder, but I pulled away from it. I could not look into those eyes right now.

       I found myself in my room again, this time digging through the abundance of forgotten items on the floor of my closet. I was not quite crying, but tears kept leaking out at odd intervals and they blurred my vision terribly. It took me much longer than it should have to find the large, brown sack I had used to carry my belongings when I came here twenty-four years ago.

       I sat there for a moment just running my fingers over it. It was faun-made, of course, completely woven out of plant fibers. Dirty and quite ugly, it held a lot of sentimental value, and having to use it again punctuated the gravity of what was happening.

       My ears caught the sound of an intruder, and I turned to glare at Levent standing awkwardly in the doorway. He obviously found it improper to enter a female’s bedroom, but did not have a problem with interrupting my thoughts.

       “Yes?” I growled.

       He stood there for a moment, choosing his words carefully. When he spoke, he was back to his normal gruff speech. “I wanted to apologize for…” He paused. “Getting you exiled.”

       I frowned. “It was bound to happen eventually. I was never really welcome here; I guess I just never realized it until now.” I stood, my hands that gripped the old sack shaking. This was completely my fault, but I could not help but feel some anger toward the kin, for without his existence I never would have been put in this situation. He was quiet, but strangely sincere in his own way.

       “It’s my fault. My choices led me here,” I grumbled, resisting the urge to throw something. I had to keep myself in check for a while longer. “I’d like to finish packing now. You’re free to leave whenever you wish.”

        He stood there for a moment calmly, then spoke again. “If you want.” He definitely sounded as though he had never had to endure polite language for so long. “I could escort you to the port.”

       I did not answer. Right now I kind of wanted to throttle him in frustration. He was obviously doing this out of guilt, but I did not know whether that made it worth more or less to me.

       “I will give you time.” With that, he retreated down the stairs. Something about having a wingless dragon-kin loitering in my living room would have been amusing on any other day.

Mumbling nonsense to myself angrily, I snatched most of my favorite items of clothing, including an array of scarves, and pressed them into the bottom of the bag. I then ripped the blankets off my bed and stuffed them inside as well. Soon, I found myself wandering all over the house, discovering things that seemed very important all of a sudden. Several books fell on top of the blankets, followed by a flask of buttertap, a loaf of dry bread, a sack of copper coins, a bag of Sop-bombs, and a few more books.

       I stared sadly at most of the items in my kitchen, knowing I would probably not need them and could get a new one just about anywhere I ended up. Yet I tied the teapot to the outside of the sack anyway. Who knew when I would need to boil some water?

       My coat and a scarf had found their way on, and I stood in the living room awkwardly shuffling through a pile of walking sticks. Morrense and Levent stared, neither of them daring to speak for fear of the crazed look I was sure graced my face. There was so much to do, and yet so little. I eventually selected a cane that sported a spiral pattern from a grapevine that had grown around a hickory sapling. After tying that to my bag as well, I was completely ready to go. The process had taken less than an hour.

       I said nothing, but walked up to Morrense and gripped his shoulders. He must have understood my silent question, as he murmured, “I’ll be fine, and I’ll take care of the house for as long as I’m able. This thing’ll blow over soon enough, so stop looking like you’re never gonna see me again, a’ight?”

       I smiled weakly. “I haven’t had time to make your potion, I’m afraid, but the recipe is tacked to the wall in the kitchen.” There was so much more I wanted, and yet could not bear, to say, so I just turned toward the door. Someone had boarded up the window in my absence, and I was not about to complain about the use of dead wood in my house. After all, it was not really my house anymore, right?

       The crowd outside had hardly dispersed, and they turned to stare at me as I walked past. I ignored it until I found my path blocked by a rather large someone. The barkeep that I had spent nearly every afternoon with for many years looked at me sadly.

       “Here,” he said roughly, holding out the largest bottle of buttertap I had ever seen. “A going-away present.” Grinning roguishly, as soon as I had taken the heavy bottle out of his hand, he squeezed me in a big bear hug. It was shocking enough to make me smile at him. We said our final farewells.

       The trek through town was uninterrupted. Most people stopped in their daily activities and stared, but no one dared get near when Levent was walking just a few paces behind me. I stared at the ground, mostly.

       The last people I encountered as I left were Gorn and his family. As I approached, his young son waddled up to me and tugged on my skirt as he had yesterday. Reluctantly, I crouched to look him in the eye.

       “Come back soon, Naiweea.” The child stumbled over the syllables in my name. It was just enough to make my heart give one painful thump, and the tears welled in my eyes again. I rewarded him with a cheerless smile before sending him back to his father.

       Gorn stared at me with a deep sadness in his dark eyes, but I knew he would not go back on his word now. I just nodded at him as we passed. He had an obligation to see this through.

       It was about ten minutes later, when the village passed out of sight around a bend in the path, that my emotional control finally gave way. My heart was suddenly very heavy in my chest, and tears ran uncontrollably. The pendant that had been strangely warm before was now uncomfortably hot under my shirt.

      Levent walked beside me, obviously aware of my crying, but he did not say anything. I did not really expect him to. Listening to his cloak drag on the ground was kind of irritating, but comforting in its own way.

       It was a terrible feeling, made even more so by the guilt I felt. There was no one to blame except myself. I had only felt like this once before, and it annoyed me that I had put myself into this position again.

       I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand rest on my head, briefly tousling my hair and sending my ears waggling back and forth, before retreating. Sniffling, I found a small smile on my face. At least I was not alone this time.