X — Winter

It shouldn’t snow from where the refugee town stood, but as leaves of autumn started to fall, a new season was beginning to approach. The dawn was becoming more and more alike to the dusk, a brighter version of dusk. The town had finally recovered from the wolf attack, ash had disappeared from the sidewalks, children freely played everywhere around the clearing once again.

Some showers stalled some simple tasks like drying clothes but as the autumn showers ceased to be, merrymaking became the new attraction of the town. Children who had brought tambourines from trips to sell lanterns from Melusina gave them to fellow children, and adults who had gone to the clearing taught the youngsters how to dance.

For a while, the refugee town’s center clearing mirrored how vibrant Hertina was. Sam was at the edge of everything, seeing everyone dance. Today, it was peaceful. It looked like a festival. It appeared like a carnival of mage performers like Ellen had once seen in the capital grounds. It was magical in its own way.

For the first time in a very long time, Sam and Ellen, Roger and Kat, all the children and adults that appeared: they were all collectively content. Sam, in particular, was at peace. He needn’t meditate inside his tent to do target practice anymore, he genuinely felt relieved.

He glanced over to Ellen, who glanced back at him. They giggled, which made a limping Roger mad from across the clearing.

“Oi,” Roger demanded, shouting across the circle. “Ya better treat Senpai right, capiche?!”

Sam laughed, audibly this time. He hadn’t done that ever since he got into the area. Ellen was gleefully singing, and she was pulled to dance by some children. She danced alongside them, albeit very clumsily, but just from seeing it, Sam broke into a smile.

Joy. Happiness.

Things that Sam never experienced, or if he did, only experienced it as fleeting as snow. And just as season changes incessantly broke landscapes into a new form, winter had settled into the refugee town, subtle snow caps broke through the sunlight as dusk became indistinguishable from dawn, causing the children of the clearing to light up the way with lanterns.

Kat had the idea of setting up wooden, hanging lanterns that lit up the roads of the town. She and her fellow lantern makers gave excess lanterns for use by the townspeople, and over the course of a week, the town had become its own version of a winter wonderland. She thanked the Great Mother for providing them mana to fill the lanterns for as long as the material could fan it, lighting up the clearing and all the tents.

Sam and Ellen stood from the clearing through the streets, snow covering tent-tips with the lanterns brightening what the snow threatened to turn dark. It didn’t often snow in the town though, and everyone in the refugee town had enough fabrics left over to make blankets and other items to keep them warm. More lanterns were made for inside the house, the flame mana burning bright as they kept each child and adult warm in the cold air of the winter.

The winter did not stop Sam and Ellen.

She brought him coffee when he made some arrows. He brought her some coffee when she fell asleep creating healing potions. Together they strolled every night, and in the heat of the moment, despite the cold air of the night, Sam finally did the one thing he tried to do with Ellen as lanterns sparked brighter around them.

They leaned closer together.

Ellen could feel the warmth of Sam, and he felt her warmth the same. They shared the passion burning bright like the lanterns that surrounded them. He pulled back and she pulled him to a hug, Sam himself returning the gesture.

He couldn’t lie to his feelings.

It hurt a little, because now, he had something to lose.

————————————

Midday had come to the town. Dawn had tried to break but the blue sky became closer to azure as the clouds coalesced into a similar color, still carrying the essence of appearing painted.

Some kids looked up at the sky, and they could have sworn Roger had drawn something like that in his spare time—when he wasn’t being too much of a hot head in every other thing.

Everyone else went ahead and did their little merry things, tasks or jobs that they needed to do before a snowstorm would occur. Children proceeded to play as they did, and despite the town being not as merry as they were back in the last season, they were jolly in their own ways.

Sam was just tending to a garden a kind girl had asked him to do, maybe as a return of a favor she had done for him. He was watering the plants in the small garden when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a hooded woman.

She was wearing a brown satchel, something Sam only ever saw messengers and mages use, either for carrying potions or letters that needed to be delivered by hand. However, messengers were usually accompanied by carriage drivers, and there had only been one carriage driver going to and fro the town. That alone piqued Sam’s interest.

Sam tracked his gaze through her.

She looked travel-worn, concerned when she bumped into someone, flinched when she saw the kids playing.

She looked like she needed help.

And help arrived. Quicker than Sam could even react himself. He proceeded to continue tending to the garden, subtly glancing over his shoulder in case anything bad happened. For now, he trusted the one who came around for aid.

“Hi, Traveler. You seem pale, are you hurt?”

The gentleness Sam had seen approach the weary traveler came from Ellen, who was more than eager to help. Ellen had approached her since she had seen how weary she seemed to be, perhaps she had seen how she expressed herself in front of boisterous townspeople or happily playing merry children, and she had almost correctly deduced how she had been feeling. Almost.

“No,” said the girl, now appearing a lot wearier than she had seemed. “Just tired.”

Ellen corrected her standing posture, paying attention to how the traveler looked and reacted. Sympathetic as Sam had known her, she outstretched her hand towards the traveler.

“Come, you might want something to eat.”

The weary traveler looked up her way.

As she took Ellen’s hand, her hood unraveled, revealing a snow white-to-silver hair that seemed like it came straight out of a folk tale, or perhaps she may even be royalty. In any case, Sam had seen it flow himself as the two ladies walked into the only tavern-like tent that ever sold food and drinks in that town. Sam couldn’t put his finger on it, but his mind had told him the traveler looked familiar. He paused and went back to finishing gardening, occasionally thinking who the traveler must be.

He didn’t notice he was being watched.

Inside the tavern-like mega-tent which could possibly house a huge number of people inside if it turned into a shelter, the traveler ate the homegrown food prepared by some of the town kids and an old man who had become very excellent in his cooking. She gobbled down the grub, making Ellen think she hadn’t eaten in a while. She paused to look at Ellen and, concerned for her image, decided to slow down and eat normally. Her ears were red, Ellen noticed, and Ellen could only manage a soft smile with an even softer giggle.

“You must’ve been hungry.”

She turned beet red. “I’m sorry about that.”

Ellen giggled, a little louder. “Don’t worry. You looked like you might get sick.”

Ellen stopped to look at her, and studied everything about her. As she examined, Ellen couldn’t figure out where she had come from, but the best assumption is the imperial capital, from where many a weary traveler had come and gone through them, swearing to keep it silent from the empire. They didn’t want to risk it, and the scouts among the townspeople made sure they never said anything.

Ellen knew how to be cautious.

The traveler looked really pretty, Ellen had pointed out to herself, possibly older than her. She looked like a supermodel: someone who came straight out of the runway of that one magazine of beautiful and sexy mages that the guys in the town somehow acquired. Ellen sighed at how lecherous they seemed, but the traveler in front of her seemed to have an allure to her: her wavy silver hair, her velvety-rose eyes, her fair skin. Everything about her screamed nymph from a model, maybe even a runaway actress. Either way, she had been entranced.

“Is something wrong…?”

Ellen jolted back to reality. “N-No, it’s nothing, sorry!”

Again, Ellen knew how to be cautious.

Around the traveler who looked like a magazine supermodel, she couldn’t help but feel her weariness.

She shrugged it off.

“Thank you,” the traveler reached with gratitude, having finished her meal. “I’m sorry… I never got your name.”

Ellen smiled. She felt a little bad being too worried; she seemed nice after all.

“Ellen.”

She shook the traveler’s hand. “What’s yours?”

“Vera.”

“Vera,” Ellen echoed. “That’s a pretty name.”

The traveler flushed, seemingly bashful at Ellen’s compliment.

“Thank you,” she let out a soft giggle. Despite Ellen assuming she could be about her thirties, she seemed really cute.

They got out of the tent, Ellen still confused at what had gotten into her.

The traveler bowed her head. “I best be off. I needed to head to Melusina.”

“If you’d like, take the carriage by that side.”

Ellen gestured towards the carriage driver.

“Thank you. I don’t know how I could repay you.”

Ellen could feel the allure again, perhaps she too had been tired. She must have been.

“Any time. Take care, Vera.”

Vera bowed. “Yourself as well, Ellen.”

Ellen left, approaching Sam who had finished tending the garden for a while now, waiting for Ellen so they could hang out together.

In a stone’s throw, someone else had been gazing at Sam and Ellen. As she left, she stared directly at Sam, winking deliberately and licking her lips, as she faded into the crowd.

That was the feeling of being watched Sam had felt ever since he had glanced at how the traveler moved before she interacted with Ellen.

Soon enough, he would find why.

The familiarity.

The allure.

The looks.

Everything will eventually come to a head, and both Sam and Ellen were about to face it head on. Despite Sam’s own training and instincts, the seeds have been planted right under their noses.