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Faye grinned. Sparrow rarely went back to the orphanage they were raised in, while Faye went back at least once a month. Bringing supplies to the old woman who’d been like a mother to her and treats for the Anarian children. Ones she knew were rarely adopted.
“We were little beasties once.”
“And did anyone bring our asses candy?”
“Didn’t you want someone to bring you candy?” Faye laughed as Sparrow split off to the coach that would take her back to the main station.
“I’ll tell Vash you said hi. See you at home bitch.” Sparrow raised her arm as she yelled over her shoulder.
Faye turned and made her way to the altar in the middle of the village. A small stone pedestal held a brazier lit with hellfire. A magical flame that burned blue and extinguished when the spell ran its course.
She purchased a prayer from the nearby stand taking the small, folded paper with beautiful script to the brazier. The prayers were to The Creator, a man who lived long ago and shaped the realms. People still worshiped him as a god even after his death eight hundred years ago. His daughter, the High Queen, now ruled Necromia.
The Crumbling occurred long before Faye was ever born. It was a force that manifested after The Creator died. Many believed The Creator’s magic faded with his death, undoing the realms he created.
Faye bowed her head as expected. She didn’t believe magic faded or that these prayers to The Creator would save them. He was long dead. She purchased the prayer to help the young family who sold them. It allowed them to keep their dignity instead of asking for handouts.
She opened her eyes, tossing the prayer into the hellfire, hoping they reached someone among the living who could stop The Crumbling.
Leaving the altar, Faye leisurely walked along small window displays in the open market. Alexander was a meager village, even for Anaria. There was no extravagance here.
Faye turned into the shops that purchased the potions and ointments she made, collecting their orders for next month.
Purchasing a bag of caramels and hard candies, she made her way to the far side of town to a place she and Sparrow once called home. It had an official name but would always be Aunty Clara’s house to them. Named for the elderly woman who ran the place.
The age of the house began to show. The screens ripped in some of the windows. Instead of replacing them, they were shut tight. The small green yard gave way to dirt over the years, and the few plants that grew out of the corners of the property were wildly overgrown. Faye frowned. The house seemed so much bigger when she played here as a child.
The smaller children squeaked and called for others as she approached. She came here every month for the past seven years. All the little ones crowded around her as she sat on the creaking swing set in the front yard. She held the bag of candy out for the children.
Echoes of “Thank you, Faye” came as they all took their piece and moved away so the rest could get their treat as well. After they moved away to different parts of the yard with their snacks, some of the older children approached her.
Movement caught Faye’s attention. Aunty Clara stood on the porch. The plump white-haired woman waved her arm over her head for Faye to come inside.
Faye hurried up the stairs, smiling brightly. She kissed the elderly woman’s cheek. “How are you doing?” Faye gently rubbed Aunty Clara’s hands. “Are your hands still bothering you?”
The old woman huffed, pulling her hands away. “Don’t worry about me. I’m old, you know.” She reached into her pocket, removing a small red envelope. “Happy birthday.” The old woman pressed it to Faye’s palm, curling her fingers around it.
Faye’s brows came up. Aunty Clara had enough to worry about without giving her marks as a gift. “I don’t need this. You should buy something for the kids.” She tried to put the envelope back in the old woman’s pocket.
She slapped her hand like she did when she was a child. “That’s good luck marks. You keep it.” She gave Faye a stern look and walked into the house.
Faye smiled and followed Aunty Clara in the house, slipping the gift into her back pocket. She would buy something nice for the kids with whatever she gave her.
The floor creaked as Faye entered the kitchen. Halls branched off the large room leading to the many bedrooms. The white walls began to peel, blisters of paint pulling away from the wall exposing the wood beneath it. It was old but filled with love. Faye’s memories with Aunty Clara were what made this place her home.
Faye loved her and how she never looked at her as less than because she didn’t carry a shard. She brushed her fingers over the large dining table that had been a fixture as long as she could remember. It was worn and scratched, showing its age. Sparrow carved their names in one of the legs when they were girls. Something Aunty Clara didn’t know about until after they’d moved out and one of the younger children saw it while playing hide and seek.
Smiling, Faye moved to the cabinets and restocked the supply of potions and ointments. After Faye was satisfied, she pulled a chair, sitting at the table.
“Sparrow still with the wing boy?” Aunty Clara asked over her cup of tea, her day-blood shard always gleaming as she gossiped.
“She’s still with Vashien.” Faye laughed, wondering when she would learn his name. Sparrow did go through a lot of men, but she’d been with Vash for a couple years now.
Aunty Clara nodded to herself. “He’s a good boy if he can get that one to settle down. She’s so wild. You should get married too. You’re pretty, you know. Don’t wait until you’re old like me.”
Faye smiled at the elderly woman. She was always trying to marry her off, claiming it was so she didn’t have to worry about her. When Faye would explain she didn’t want to be married, Aunty Clara would argue with her that she was too headstrong. Faye stopped insisting she would never marry and just nodded to save the ten minutes of lecturing.
Faye listened to Aunty Clara tell her about the children and the trouble they were getting into. Talking through the day as Faye helped her prepare the evening meal.
