Chapter 14: Unexpected (1)

It turned out that they didn't even wait for the next day.

She moved her fingers, smoothing the folds of the sheet with studied calm, ignoring the harsh gazes directed at her.

"This is inadmissible." Sascha arched an eyebrow, listening despite her wishes.

"The what Emilie?" she asked without interest. Emilie was an old matron and one of the five Elders of the village.

The woman waved her hands, raising them irritably high. "This whole absurd situation. She ordered you to tell us the truth."

If she had heard that order three or four days ago, Sascha would have lowered her head in submission and obeyed while she gritted her teeth in frustration. Now, however, she tugged at the collar of the shirt she had been dressed in after her admission to the Temple.

The fabric slipped over her collarbone, revealing her throat. Her pale perfection was interrupted by purple marks from the bastard's attack. She sensed the consternation and the held breaths of the Elders. Not getting enough of her, she lifted the bottom edge of the shirt, where a large purple in different states of coloration speckled her skin. The internal damage had been healed. However, the marks of the attack would take time to disappear.

"Tell me please." She looked directly at the woman, although she was addressing everyone presents except Sheamus, who was a large Ogre cornered in the corner of the cubicle. The old man was not looking at anyone, although his red face, scowl, and fists clenched in suppressed fury were not good news. Sascha continued. "What is not clear?"

"James, you couldn't ..."

"Oh no?" she interrupted, not giving a shit about good manners and general politeness. "You mean I did this to myself, right? How silly of me. "

"There is no need to be sarcastic."

"Why not? It makes me feel better, much better." She sighed, tired to the bone from so much nonsense. Sascha knew the only reason they were having this conversation was because of the substantial amounts of copper and iron pieces the Cornfields deposited in the Elders' buns every month, most of them at least. "Look, James attacked me and it is not the first time that he has physically abused me. The only difference is that now he doesn't have a damn right to touch me. He even burned all my belongings. I know it, he knows it and the whole damn town knows it, do they still insist that it wasn't him?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the scowl of Aaron, of the five elders, only he and Sheamus were free from the Cornfield influences.

"Explain, please, how did James end up with a shattered jaw and without his family jewels?" Aaron questioned with a serious face, even as discreet coughs sounded next to him.

Sascha looked at him carefully, did the Elder joke with that last comment?

"I told them. A man appeared out of nowhere and pulled him off me. I didn't see who he was, she was too busy throwing up my guts."

When you go to lie with the truth. Sheamus had taught her to skirt the truth and play with words when she was younger and Sascha learned the same way she learned everything. Quickly and efficiently. So now, Sascha played with words and deeds, twisting the truth like a skilled baker a dough of bread.

"A villager?"

"We are kilometers from the nearest city." Again true, the truth was not absolute and could have a thousand interpretations.

The door to the crowded cubicle opened with an impatient click as if the person on the other side had finally lost patience.

"It is enough, my patient needs to rest." The healer entered. He was a mature man with kind features and a reliable demeanor, he was also new to the village, which is why he was indifferent to the harsh stares of the village chiefs.

The elders grumbled and protested. The healer was as unflappable as a rock.

"You may continue once I am discharged, and keep in mind that I only allowed this because of the nature of the situation. However, it was enough. " The healer narrowed his eyes and the Elders surrendered. Except for Sheamus, everyone began to leave the cubicle.

Sascha watched them drag their feet lazily. She had had time to think while she was being questioned by the Elders.

How did James know that she was alone? Why did she choose that precise moment? Why that and not another? Was it just a coincidence? Luck? fatality? She didn't believe it. The timing was too exact, too convenient.

"Sorry to interrupt your meeting."

The four elders stopped in their tracks and Sheamus watched her from the other side with a simple question in her old eyes, what are you up to?

"What meeting?" Emilie asked. Aaron and Tyr were watching Sascha with identical confused expressions.

Sascha noticed Radford's nervous demeanor, the obvious anxiety, and unease in his movements. She narrowed her eyes, veiling her thoughts.

Interesting.

"My mistake, forgive me."

Aaron opened his mouth and the healer cleared his throat. They excused themselves once more and promptly left the cubicle with the constant company of the Healer. The door closed behind him and Sascha flopped down into the sheets.

"They bought Radford." She blurted out. She knew she was right, there was no other explanation.

"I already know that." the old man grunted, taking her hand as he sat in the passenger seat. "Those bastards saw me face an idiot. Just thinking about what was happening while he waited like a fool in the meeting room makes my blood boil. "

Sascha squeezed the old man's fingers.

"You can't blame yourself for the actions of others and I didn't imagine it would go that far either." she let out a tired sigh. The after-effects of the healing spell were beginning to take their toll. The Arcanum was not omnipotent, nor almighty and depended on the energies and resources of the body to function. The greater the damage, the greater the amount of fuel that the Arcane would burn to heal the wounds.

The old man sighed and something in that action caught his attention. I'm not going to like it. He thought he, reading the old man's expression. What you have to say I am not going to like.

"This is difficult, but you can't stay here."

He knew it.

"Are you kicking me out?" Tension gripped her shoulders as that old, familiar feeling of pain and rejection burned her chest, bringing tears to her eyes.

"Damn, Sascha," Sheamus complained. "I'm not kicking you out, either, abandoning you. Arden will not be a friendly place for you, at least for a while.

He looked away, and as when a situation turned especially rugged, Sascha buried her emotions.

"I understand." He agreed in a flat, dispassionate voice. Her teacher was right, she understood it, accepted it, but the abandoned girl who lived inside her took a separate seat and turned her back on the world, taking refuge in the darkness.

"I have an old friend who could receive you." Strong, warm arms went around her. "She's a little crazy." She paused. "No, she's completely crazy, and she's running like a fox. However, she is brilliant at what she does and her magic is incredibly rare. "

That got her attention.

"What kind of magic?" she took refuge in the green scent and the thick voice of the old man whom she loved like a father.

"I don't know the details." She felt him shrug. "Just her name. Art of Arcane Botany. "

Sascha's eyes trembled. I'd be lying if I said she wasn't interested.

"Magical plants, then."

"And normal too."

"Sounds interesting," she whispered.

"True?"

She pulled away from her, her emerald green eyes flushed even though she hadn't shed a single tear.

"You are a cunning old fox, Master." She complained.

"As long as it works." He growled at her. "You will go?"

"Me..."

A knock on the door interrupted her words.