Page 2 of An Arrow to the Heart

“Honestly. Yeah. Yeah I would,” she laughed, rising to her feet, “you know I’d much prefer a proper good fight over… over whatever that was,” she shuddered whilst speaking of the latter before shaking herself as though to rid herself of the thought of it.

Sylvie burst into laughter as she looked at her dear friend, the strong, badass demon who had clearly been afraid. Despite the fact that she had fought in the wars and was one of the strongest folk Sylvie knew.

“You weren’t scared, were you?” Sylvie teased.

Valeska rolled her eyes, “yes,” she huffed, “well, that thing was creepy as fuck. And you’re well aware that my fighting days are behind me so let’s get the fuck out of here,” she said as she held out her hand for her friend who graciously took it.

“You stink of shit by the way,” Valeska added, as she wiped her hands on the lengths of her skirt, stepping a few paces ahead. At least she could always rely on Valeska to tell her the truth for she was never one to mince her words, it was something Sylvie loved her dearly for.

Sylvie took a moment to take in the state of herself and grimaced, “I think it’ll take weeks to get rid of the stench,” Sylvie chuckled in response. Even the tips of her silvery white fish-braids were now a deep earthy brown.

“All that for some alchemy ingredients,” Valeska said softly as she couldn't help but smile at her friend.

All that for some rare ingredients indeed Sylvie thought to herself.

CHAPTER TWO

-Sylvie-

Sylvie rubbed the pale green fabric between her fingers and sucked her teeth before she swore a torrent of curses. The dress was most definitely ruined, this had been the third time she had attempted to get the stain out, the only plus side being that it no longer stank.

The sun beamed through the occasional passing cloud, radiating warmth as she hung the dress on the clothesline, perhaps she could dye the fabric a darker colour to hide the stain, she certainly wasn’t about to give in and see the dress doomed to ruin. With the wooden pegs securely attached, she watched as the laundry swayed in the wind, at least it was a good day to dry washing.

Her internal musings were interrupted by the sound of a loud crash coming from inside, startled, she threw her head in the direction of her little pink cottage, and without so much as a second thought she turned on her heel and stormed towards the source of the racket.

“Easy, easy,” Sylvie said in a steady tone as she slowly approached the animal. “I’m not going to hurt you, you know me Fermack,” she said gently as to not startle the feathered beast. Most folk wouldn't go near an owlbär, never mind bring it back to their farm. But Sylvie wasn’t most folk and she had an oath to uphold. She didn’t care whether her patients were humanoid, animals or beast. What mattered was that she provided care for them. And besides, this little one was only a cub, no more than a few months old, left orphaned by its mother who despite her best efforts had succumbed to the injuries of a fight.

Sylvie had heard the cub’s cries one of the evenings she’d been out in the forest foraging for mushrooms and berries. She had followed the screeching echoes of cries to an outcrop of rocks that backed against the base of the mountain. She found him there, frantically nuzzling against his mother’s beak. Sylvie had remained back at first, hidden by the dense foliage of the forest, observing, assessing the situation. It had been clear even from the distance that the mother had been dead. The sight broke Sylvie’s heart and perhaps some would deem her foolish, but she had decided then and there that she’d do whatever she could to help the cub.

Owlbärs were ferocious creatures, feared by most and for good reason. The feathers that coated their shaggy bear-like bodies meant they moved almost silently and they were widely known for their wild aggression. Claws and a beak made for a deadly combination. Sylvie hadn’t yet come face to face with an owlbär though she was well aware of their existence in this mountain range. Thankfully, despite their savage nature they kept to the wilds and left folk largely alone, she supposed they too had reason to keep themselves hidden, clearly evidenced by the sight she’d stumbled across that day. The mother had ultimately sacrificed herself for her young, it was a sacrifice Sylvie wouldn’t see wasted so she had done what any decent healer would. She would care for the owlbär until it was old enough to fend for itself.

That had been an entire moon cycle ago, in the midst of summer. To Sylvie’s surprise, the cub took to her immediately, and acted much in the way a dog might. She had managed to lure him back to the farm using some dried elk jerky she’d been carrying.

The cub was still tortured by nightmares though and would wake in a raging fury until she or Mieze reminded him that he was safe with them. In fact, Mieze had appeared to take on a mother-like role for the cub despite being much smaller than him. When Sylvie had first found them curled up together in deep sleep, she had worried that her cat had fallen victim to the owlbär. She’d never been so relieved to find herself in the wrong as she learned the two had become friends.

“Fermack,” Sylvie said sweetly to rouse him back to safety. “You know me,” she repeated the words, even more softly this time. The animal allowed her to approach and the cub made a cooing noise before it nuzzled against Sylvie’s leg. Sylvie let out a heavy sigh, one hand on her hip with her head tilted as she said, “I see you’ve made a mess of my books again. At least you didn’t break anything this time.”

The cub looked at her with his widening dark eyes, and she couldn’t be mad at him even if she tried. Though she really needed to find a suitable and safe sleeping solution for the cub. She couldn’t risk having him out in the barn unsupervised with the goats, much less the henhouse. But he was proving to be too much of a menace in her little cottage. Sylvie scrunched her face as she asked, “What am I going to do with you huh?”

Sylvie followed as Valeska vanished through the big oak double doors that led to the Alehouse’s kitchen and she was immediately struck by the smell of the cooking. Valeska already stood at the centre table, chopping vegetables. It wasn’t customary that punters would come into the kitchen, but Sylvie often found herself in the room, given that her and Valeska were best friends.

Its massive open hearth was a wonderful source of heat and as much as Sylvie enjoyed being out the front, she enjoyed the quiet of the kitchen, and of course it meant she could chat away to Valeska who was often too busy in the kitchen to be in the front of house service.

Valeska and Ortolf, had ventured into Wyrmwind around half a decade ago in search of something new and together with Lonan, the original owner of the Alehouse, restored and expanded it to what it is now; The Old Oak Alehouse & Lodging.

“Give me a hand would you and pass me the onions,” Valeska said, her eyes darting to the overflowing basket of onions that sat under the bench beneath the window.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” Sylvie asked, handing her three large white onions, she perched her backside on the stool at the opposite side of the large workbench, her head in her hands.

“A little birdie told me you were down at the mill yesterday,” she said with her brows raised, a wicked little grin etched on her face.

Sylvie resisted the urge to roll her eyes and threw her friend a deadpan look as she said, “the birds in this village talk too much.”

Valeska merely replied with a “mhm,” as she threw the chopped vegetables into a big cast iron pot.

“I was inquiring about purchasing some lumber, if you must know.”

“Oh, mhm, I’m sure Torban has no problem fulfilling your need for wood.”