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Pushing Back Darkness

Serafina, or "Finn," is a 17-year-old girl from a small village who doesn't always have the self preservation instinct one might desire. Rushing headlong into danger, she finds herself drawn into a treacherous whirlpool of circumstances and intrigue far beyond her illusions of control. As she leaves her village on a journey that will change her life forever, she’s joined by her neighbor Mayra and Mayra’s quick-witted and charmingly irritating brother Riley, whose kindness and admiration for Finn begins to show through his teasing banter. Roland, an orphaned doctor's apprentice, is on his own quest to help save the lives of his city’s people. Coming across the three villagers on the road, he is enchanted by Finn’s beauty but finds a wall around her heart. These four join forces in an effort to help the people they love, conquer their own pasts, and survive the onslaught of romance, magic, strife, loss, and war. As these young adventurers are bound together and torn apart by the circumstances around them, they will begin to learn just how different the world is than they had always thought. Their battle against the darkness, both external and internal, could define the future of their nations. *Book is completed and fully published, I hope you enjoy!*

TheOtherNoble · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
525 Chs

The Search

Peter rifled through Brenna's things, as he'd been instructed to do. It felt wrong, even though he'd done it once before. Back then, Mayra had been with him, so it felt less invasive.

He still was entirely uncomfortable touching a woman's private possessions. Even if she was being accused of… well, he didn't fully understand the allegations himself, but he knew he needed to search her things for any herbs or other items that might be used for magical purposes.

Mayra had walked him through it last time they searched her things. Brenna had gotten the herbs she used to heal Haf from a side pocket in her bag, so that's the first place Peter searched now.

It was empty.

Sighing, he resigned himself to dumping all her things out onto the cot and sorting through them that way.

Mostly clothing tumbled out onto the bed. In an effort to be thorough, he forced himself to run his fingers along each seam and hemline in case something small was sewn into some invisible place. He looked for hidden pockets, or any thick portion of fabric that could keep secrets out of view.

He found this especially distasteful when dealing with the undergarments. Couldn't Mayra have done this herself? He felt like a pervert.

Finally done with the clothing, he turned his attention to the items. A hairbrush, some soap, a few other toiletries and small ins and outs, nothing unusual. He examined each one carefully, but found nothing amiss.

He frowned after a few moments. This seemed a poor collection of possessions if it was all she owned in the world. No personal mementos? No small heirlooms?

Perhaps she kept them on her person instead of in her bag.

Finally, he looked at the bag itself. It seemed a normal Rhone-style back-bag of the nomadic people, structured with wood supports sewn into it much like the large army packs the Klain used for long treks. The structure helped relieve the pressure on one's shoulders during travel.

He found nothing in each of the pockets, and began, as before, running his hands along each side and seam in case anything should be sewn in, hidden from view.

Nothing.

One seam around the structure looked repaired, but it was not unusual for that place to need fixing.

He should know, he'd had to make due when his army pack ripped in that very spot before during his initial year of training. He'd had to learn to crudely sew to fix it himself. Brenna's repair was superior, but she likely had far more practice sewing than he had.

He felt around the repair just in case, but nothing seemed to be hidden there. If she'd been storing anything alongside the support, it was gone now.

Scratching his head, he shrugged. He had searched this thoroughly before, and found nothing. If she had anything extra, it must be on her person.

For good measure, he looked in the pillowcase, under the mattress, and around the small temporary dwelling just to be sure. Something was bothering him.

But, he found nothing. Perhaps he was being paranoid.

On a whim, he grabbed the empty pack to bring back to the Commodore's hut. Maybe Mayra could find traces of herbs around the repaired spot, proving that they had been hidden there, and that nothing was left now. 

He was about to go, but hesitated. He hated to touch the clothing again, but it felt awkward leaving undergarments splayed about on the bed. Surely even the worst people were entitled to some dignity.

He'd gotten good at folding to fit more into his army pack, and so he picked up the first small garment. There was no intuitive way to fold it, and he held it out to contemplate the correct process when a voice cut into his thought process.

"Um, Peter?" Mayra asked from the doorway.

He threw down the undergarment like it was on fire, his face turning the color of a cherry.

"Yes?" His voice broke, and he cleared his throat to deepen it. "Yes, Mayra? I was just searching through Brenna's things, as I was ordered by your request." 

He emphasized the last part, and her eyebrows rose. Haf and Roland had jointly sent him on this assignment, but from their wording it was clear that sending him instead of someone else had been Mayra's suggestion. Her mouth scrunched together in amusement at his obvious embarrassment.

"If I recall the exact wording of the request," She tapped her index finger to her chin in thought, "it was for you to please look for herbs that might be used in magic."

"Herbs are small. I checked every seam and hem in case something was sewn in." He defended himself.

"I applaud your thoroughness," She said, sidling closer and inspecting the garment without touching it. "I trust there was nothing unusual? Nothing you haven't seen before?"

His face burned crimson, and he cut his eyes toward her in a mix of irritation and awkwardness. 

"We searched these things together before. There is nothing here that we didn't look through at that time." He saw the trap she laid, making him admit to having seen Brenna's undergarments before.

"Of course," Mayra said seriously. "Your commitment to this assignment is admirable. Not the smallest bit of clothing left unsearched."

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mayra." He warned.

"All right, all right, I'm done. For the moment," She smothered a laugh.

"Thank you," He sighed.

"Clearly I've made you suffer enough."

"You have indeed." Peter agreed.

"I suppose I could have done this myself to save you the trouble," She looked up at him with sympathy.

"That would have been kinder than having me do it and then teasing me about it," He chided.

"All right, agreed. Next time I'll search the things and you search the woman herself," Mayra couldn't help the grin that bloomed on her face as Peter's expression dissolved into aggravation.

"I thought you were done teasing me," He complained, turning redder than ever.

"It's too much fun, I can't stop," She moved closer and nudged him with her shoulder.

"Is it out of your system now?" Peter looked down at her.

"I suppose. Did you find anything? Brenna didn't have anything with her." Mayra finally got down to business. It was a relief. 

"Nothing for certain," He moved to pick up the bag. "The seam here has been repaired, but I can't feel anything concealed here. I'm thinking perhaps she had something here, but took it out and repaired it afterward?"

Mayra's mouth twisted in thought.

"Good catch, Peter. I'm not sure I would have noticed the repair. It's done well… but I'm not sure how recent it is. Is there a sewing kit amongst her things?"

Peter blinked, and pointed to it on the bed. Mayra picked up the pouch and opened it.

"There's no thread that matches the stitching. She hasn't borrowed any since she arrived," Mayra commented. The guard was to keep her updated on anything Brenna requested. "She could have used up the last of this color doing this particular repair, I suppose."

"It's possible." He conceded, marveling at Mayra's mind at work.

"I don't know what it means, if it means anything at all. I don't think we'd be out of bounds if we ripped the bag apart entirely to search every thread of it, but I see no reason to do so. I don't want to be cruel to her," Mayra's brow scrunched.

"Let's leave it alone for now. We can report to Haf and Roland, and let them decide if it's anything." Peter smiled at her.

"That sounds good. If anything goes wrong later, it's not our fault, right?" She grinned.

"Don't talk like that. You're practically inviting something to go wrong!" He shook his head at her.

"Come on, Peter. Things never go entirely right for us and you know it." She nudged him again, playfully, and headed towards the door. "Now let's go report like good little soldiers."

"I AM a good soldier," He said pointedly, picking up the bag again to follow her.

"Mmm, but not a little one anymore," Mayra gave a significant look down to his toes and all the way up to his face again. "Which I still find irritating."

"Well I'm glad I can return the favor, since you find such delight in your attempts to irritate me," Peter chuckled.

"What attempts? I only succeed!" She laughed.

"Less often than you might think," He replied, "although today, I must admit, you are particularly adept at it."

"Thank you," She gave him a little curtsy as she walked, and they fell into an amiable silence for a time.

He had to admit that as embarrassed as he was, it was nice to see Mayra in good spirits. Her eyes lit up when she was engaging in mischief, and he couldn't help but return her smile.

"Next time there's an assignment to search a man's possessions, I'm sending you to do it," He warned.

"Peter. Five brothers. You really think you're going to scare me like that? You can do better."

"You're right. I can, but for now we have a bit of serious work to do," He took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the matters at hand as they neared the Commodore's cottage.

"Excuses, excuses," She gave him an impish grin, and his heart faltered a little.

Poor Peter. Just trying to get his tasks completed.

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