Embedded Files
MARY's POV:
They made their way through the town.
And Mary could feel people’s eyes on them.
Whispers echoed through the air. Bitting against the edge of her mind. Her hand gripped the hilt of her sword as comfort.
Meanwhile, her new companion couldn’t be any duller to the eyes she had drawn with her pixie in a jar.
‘Seriously, it’s like she’s in her own little world.’ Mary thought to herself as she gazed at the other. She was too busy holding the pixie up to the light, chuckling when the thing let out a zap of lightning that would’ve shattered anything else, but just made that jar glow. The unknown woman kept muttering to herself.
She was talking about something or another about ‘mana’ or ‘magic ’ or something.
After walking in silence, her weird tag-along broke it.
“So… This dude you’re hiring to come out,” the woman started as she looked at the pixie. “First time working with him, right?”
Mary narrowed her eyes. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’
“No, we’ve had to call him out in the past to correct the issue.” “Ah, so you’ve had other magi pests in the past?” “No–only pixies.”
The woman jolted, startled. She looked over at Mary, face twisting in shock and horror.
“You mean to tell me that you’ve been hiring someone who doesn’t even know how to get rid of pixies?”
Mary tilted her head, confusion evident. “Well–they keep coming back.”
The woman to her left sighed.
“No kidding.” her eyes flickered around them, scanning the area. “This village is hurting for coin, isn’t it?”
Mary stiffened. Gritting her teeth. ‘Why does that even matter?’
“I mean, it’s obvious,” the woman stated as she strayed from the path. Mary paused in her moment, curious as to what the other was doing.
“From the structure alone, it’s clear the village lacks trade.”
The woman stopped at a stone stake in the ground–one that once had held a candle on it as a sort of street light–and kicked it.
The stake immediately fell and Mary readied herself to lunge at the strange, unknown woman–
When the stake fell to the ground, and out of the stub that remained, a cloud of deep gray spread and crawled around.
Villagers gasped and yelped as bugs skittered along in a writhing mess. Mary felt her own shudder of disgust rip through her. Her skin wormed and buzzed as though the bugs were on her.
“What are you doing!” Mary demanded as the lady knelt to the ground, placing her pixie to the side.
Out of her satchel, she took out another jar and opened the lid.
Mary stiffened. ‘Oh, she better not–’
The lady ran her jar along the ground, catching bugs inside it. Not caring if some got on her hands.
Finally, she stood and sealed the lid on tight before turning to Mary, beaming.
She rushed over to where Mary stood and held out the jar.
Mary backed up. “What are those things!” she yelped, her eyes wide.
“Stonemites!” The unknown one chirped. “Like termites, but for stone! They love poorer villages made from stone and create nests in those with faulty structures. You can get rid of them easily, but they’re a great source of protein.”
Mary scowled. “Good to know you eat bugs.”
The woman only laughed. “Not me, Silly! They’re good food substitutes for animals–meaning that if you get a farm of them, they’re a cheap feed.”
She began walking again. Mary followed reluctantly.
The woman ended up walking over to where one of the few remaining market stalls was and put the jar down on the counter.
The boy behind the stall–a young, frail boy called Martin–flinched.
“You there! You have chickens, do you not?” she gestured to the cartons filled with eggs.
Martin looked her up and down. It was true that he was a chicken farmer. After his father grew ill, he was assigned all of his father’s chores so that his mother could look after the man, even in her aging years. It was soon after his father succumbed to his illness that his mother grew ill as well. His family is the last animal farmers they have in the town.
‘Although…’ Mary tilted her head to the side in thought. ‘There have been rumors and fears of the chicken farm closing–as the profits have been down. Most of the eggs they have now break in transit and those that make it are small and frail. Martin has had to cut the cost back so much that he can’t afford feed–Ooh–’
She looked over to where the lady held the wriggling crawlers and shuttered at the sight. ‘Is that what she’s doing?’
Martin nodded at her question from before. “I do, why–” “And you’ve been struggling to get feed due to the amount of broken eggs and the size and strength of the remaining eggs, leading to a lack of profit, right?”
‘This girl has a serious issue with waiting her turn–And how does she know all of this?’
She looked around. The eggs were noticeably smaller, and some had cracks on the backs of them, which were purposefully hidden. There was also a large crate of broken eggs in the back that was starting to smell.
Martin blinked at her. “How did you–”
“Great! I have just the thing!” She pushed the jar over to the boy, who held his hands away from it and glared.
“These are stonemites–they pack a large amount of protein and their exoskeleton provides calcium for the eggshells. All you need to do is to fill this jar with water to drown them so they don’t bite the chickens and pour both the water and the stonemites into a trout. This gives you the chicken’s water and food in one trout!”
The woman’s eyes dazzled and gleamed as she explained. Words flowed from her mouth like a faucet waiting to burst.
Martin eyed her–looking curious, and a little intimidated, ‘Which–Same.’–and nodded at her slowly.
“That sounds… Good,” he settled on as he slowly brought his hands to rest on the stall.
The unnamed one nodded. “Yes, it is! And they’re super easy to farm–just need an enclosure and rocks, and they do the rest!”
Eyeing the bugs closely, Martin spoke, “So, what are you looking to trade these bugs for? Eggs? Coin?”
‘I’m curious about that too,’ Mary admitted to herself. ‘Even if she has offered to take care of the pixies with no coin–she’s still getting something out of it.’
“Do you have any lavender?” the woman asked. Both Martin and Mary looked at her in confusion.
“Um, no?” “Know where I can find lavender?” “No.” “Shame–I’ll just take a bucket of water then–biggest one you can carry.”
‘Okay–this is getting more and more foolish by the moment.’
“Coming right up.”
Martin quickly skittered to grab one of his bigger buckets–a wooden one that came up to his knees with iron bracing–and went to fill it up.
Mary gave the other a confused look. The woman caught her gaze.
“What? I’m gonna give the bucket back–I just need the water. Speaking of–Do you mind carrying the pixie jar for me?”
Mary reared back, hands flying up and chuckling, “Huh, I’m not too sure that’s a good idea–” “Oh, come on. Don’t be chicken, it’s fine. Just don’t drop the thing.” “No, I really don’t think–”
“Got your water!”
They looked back to see Martin walking over to them, a big grin on his face.
The lady returned the grin. “Excellent.”
‘I think you mean egg-cellent–EY!’ Mary panicked as the pixie jar was all but thrown at her. Hands gripping it tight as she held it away from her body.
Meanwhile, the other woman just took the bucket without a care in the world.
“And those stone mites are now yours, my good sir! Have a great day!”
“You too!”
“Why do I have to hold this thing?”
“Because you’re the guard or something.”
“That didn’t matter to you before!”
“It wasn't a covenant before.”
“You–Ugh!”
The one to her left chuckled as they kept walking–the water in the bucket swissing and sloshing about. “Don’t worry, you big baby–It can’t get out unless you drop it or open the lid, and with the iron grip you have on that thing, I doubt either will happen.”
Mary looked down at the creature in the jar and gulped. This was the thing that had been causing her town hardship and coin for months–every three months or so, it seemed that they would have to call in that stupid magiologist, just for them to have to pay more when the pixies inevitably broke out of the crates he put them in, and then have to pay more when he has to come back again and again and again, and it’s just–
‘Shocking… To see the thing causing so much strain contained in such a simple-looking jar.’ it hasn’t even broken out or anything either–it’s been trying, but it has yet to leave a scratch.
Mary looked over at the things captured with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. She has yet to get this woman’s name, and she has already been more useful than the man her father had been working with for years? She wasn’t buying it.
And what was with the water bucket?
“So–Hm… It’s not like I’m not–” she paused, trying to find her words “–Grateful that you helped out one of my villagers… But… Ah…”
How does she ask this? Should she even ask? Unknown over there seemed to be more than content with just going about her plan–what if it’s something stupidly oblivious and Mary is just being naive to this?
The woman hummed as the water continued to splash in the bucket as she stepped.
“If you’re asking about the bucket, it’s for the pixie problem.”
“...” Well, now she couldn’t help herself, “How–”
“Oh! Is this it?”
Mary looked ahead, and sure enough, this was it.
Tape and wooden walls sectioned off the entrance to the bakery. Guards stood along the outline, weapons at the ready, redirecting traffic.
The typical process was that this would remain until they got the professor in–but maybe it doesn’t have to be…
Mary looked over at the woman and her hand went to the hilt of her sword, tightening around it.
‘I hope you’re not some crazy person living in the woods.’
The woman–‘I should really figure out her name.’–was quick to rush ahead of her, quickly closing the distance between her and the guard line, but when she got too close, two guards stepped in front of her, blocking her from entering.
“Halt! No citizens are allowed past this point.”
Both of the guards had bronze armor that covered their chests, arms, and legs. However, only one bore a painted, red flower on his shoulder pads. The mark of a true guard. He had pure white air and blood-red eyes with skin pale enough to be blue. The other was his squire–an apprentice of sorts–who had brown, caramel hair and hazel eyes.
Sir. Adamson and Aiden Thomson.
She tilted her head. “‘Halt’ is the second time in my life I have heard a guard actually use the word ‘halt’. How interesting–Anyway, I’m with her.”
Mary walked up as she was gesturing to her. Her face was stern as the two guards looked between it and the pixie she had in the jar.
Biting back a sigh, she nodded. “The woman is telling the truth. She’s with me.”
The one in question was currently bouncing on the balls of her feet, trying to peer inside. “I’m here to help with your guy’s pixie problem–so if you don’t mind letting me through, please do.”
The guards looked at each other, a silent conversation taking place in their eyes.
Mary's eyes narrowed. “Let her through,” she ordered.
The guards were quick to obey, stepping aside and allowing them access to the home.
As Mary followed the woman through the line, she felt a hand grab her arm.
Sighing slightly, she turned to face Aiden, the silent one of the two guards.
She and Aiden had been friends for years. They trained together, fought together–but ever since she got the role of head guard, he has been acting… Different.
Colder. They hardly talk anymore other than if it’s for him to question the orders she has given him.
He might think he is helping, but he really isn’t, though.
“Mary,” he said calmly. “Are you sure we can trust her? I mean–where did you even find this woman? How do we know she’s not some poser looking for cash?”
Mary gritted her teeth and looked him dead in the eyes.
“You wanna know something, Aiden?” Mary snapped, feeling all the frustration and confusion she had felt throughout the day come bubbling up.
“I don’t know if we can trust her–But all she has asked for is a bucket of water and a pixie to study, much less than–I don’t know–60 silver coins.”
Aiden reared back a bit but kept his grip on her. “Are you trying to say that this random woman is better than Dr. Layhorn, the Sir. Vinehowler has been trusted to deal with pests for years?”
“No,” Mary snarled. “No, I am not and you should know better than to accuse me of doubting my father’s practices–But you know what? She caught a pixie–on her own ”–she held up the pixie for emphasis–“and has offered to help with the rest for no coin, and, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this Aiden, but we’re desperate.”
The boy’s face went red. “Maybe that’s why she’s here–have you ever thought about that? Maybe she knows we’re down on our luck and is looking for a quick buck, and you’re naively pushing aside the trust your father has for Dr. Layhorn–”
“Well, Squire Thomson,”–She yanked her arm from his hold–“If that woman proves herself more useful than the man who has been emptying our pockets for two years now–I will gladly give every copper she asks of us out of my own pockets, have I made myself clear?”
A look of shock and hurt washed across Aiden’s face. She hates this–hates throwing roles into the mix of things–but she can’t have Aiden questioning her every order and move.
The people around her doubt her enough. Was it too much to ask her childhood friend to give her a little trust?
Still, Aiden smooths his face over with a thick layer of apathy.
“Of course you have, Commander Vinehowler.”
Mary tightened her grip on her sword with her free hand before nodding and turning away, her heart still pounding.
Taking a steady breath, she masked her unease and straightened her posture.
When she walked over, the lady was already waiting for her along with Ms. Mayflower.
The elderly woman turned to her. “You there! What is the meaning of bringin’ this strange woman to my home? Why have you not contacted the professor yet?”
The woman tilted her head at Mayflower’s words, but Mary held up the jar.
“Because this ‘strange woman’ has already caught one pixie and has offered to capture the rest for free today–or would you rather wait around for three weeks for the professor to arrive and have your taxes raised?”
Ms. Mayflower flinched as she stared at the caught ball, which had tired itself out enough to where it was now resting on the floor of the jar.
“T-That’s absurd! All the other jars and crates have broken instantly!” Mary looked over at the unnamed one.
‘I’ve been thinking about that as well–It’s strange how this woman knows how to put protection glyphs on jars, let alone that there needs to be those glyphs to capture pixies.’
The woman just looked back at her and blinked.
‘She’s clueless.’
“So–Ma’am, what’d you say your name was again?”
“Ms. Mayflower.”
“Right, so Ms. Mayflower, where are the pixies located?” “All ‘round my house! I can hear ‘em runnin’ a muck in there like it’s their property!” “Right, I mean where did you first find them?” “Do you knights not say nothin’ to each other? Fine, I found them in my back storage. The fifth time I’ve had to say it.”
“And your back storage–does it have sugar?” “Why yes it does. I am a baker, after all.”
With a nod, the woman set her bucket of water down by the door before taking off her satchel. “How many were there?”
“Two.”
“Thanks.”
She pulled out two jars and looked over at Mary.
“All right, hotshot,” she said as she shoved another jar to Mary, who fumbled to catch it. “You’re helping me capture some pranksters.”
“I–Huh!?” Mary yelped.
The woman stepped in front of the door. “Put the Pixie on the ground where it won’t get kicked and follow my lead. Can’t capture both these things on my own.”
“Okay?” Mary cringed as she tried to keep her tone steady.
She set the pixie down and crept behind the woman as she entered the bakery.
Looking back briefly, she was able to catch Aiden’s eyes.
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