Two days passed since Garm's group first arrival in the village. During this time, Isa finally obtained her long awaited training, even if it is just running around the well's square until exhaustion. The Elder, once again, believed that it was but a means to give her more endurance for the time when both guys would abuse her. On the other hand, even with so little time, some villagers began to open up to the group, with a handful of parents asking for their children to join Isa's training during their stay. For those at least, they believe that with the Elder keeping close watch they can let those kids learn some things while in a controlled environment during the day, which leave them enough time to do their daily tasks without having to anguish about their offspring's whereabouts.
On the third day's morning, Garm accompanies Dorian to the smithy for him to receive his first sword and scabbard before taking him to the woods under the guise of hunt training. While the warrior has another goal in mind, the fact that this will be Dorian's first hunt with a weapon stays true. During the journey Garm shows patiently to his apprentice how to find tracks in the wood and, subsequently, how to keep theirs covered. It is only when they are far enough from the village that he stops before sitting on the ground and gesturing to Dorian to do the same.
— So. What do you know of him ?
— He's an asshole.
The boy's spontaneous answer, while covering everything he thinks about the Elder, is met with silence and an arched eyebrow from his teacher. This hint leads him to talk again.
— He hates us, but we've done nothing! At least he seems to like Isa but… Why ? We love her too ! If he can't see this, he can only be a stupid asshole !
— And his house ?
Caught off guard, Dorian blinks and takes some time to think.
— His house ? It's… Vacated. I… I don't understand why… How… I…
— Next time, look closely. Tomorrow you'll tell me what you found.
With a satisfied smile, Garm stands up and leads the teenager to their prey. Unfortunately, this time they can't find anything noteworthy but, at least, Dorian's mind is now on the right track.
While the men are away, Isa has to stay under the Elder's watch. She does her best to give him the cold shoulder, even if the man seems transformed. He leads her all over the village, makes her talk with the villager and even gives her some food once, after she stared at it a bit too much. When she says that she can't walk anymore, lying to have him cease to make her talk to everyone as if he is a kind grandpa, he accepts to bring her back to his house, where both sit awkwardly.
— So… I… I may have misunderstood your… Group.
— Family.
— Your… Family. I, I would like to understand you more. Would you agree with that ?
The girl looks at him with obvious suspicion. She hides a smirk without difficulties before letting this man, the one who thinks that he knows everything better than all others, wait some time.
— Yes. Ask.
The elder clenches his teeth, seeing in her answer the shadow of the monster's fractured conversation.
— He… Your, father, said that you're not his blood… Can you, tell me, or is this too much to ask ?
Her glare is the first answer he receives. Isa clenches her fists under the table before opening them again with a deep breath. She is cornered.
— This isn't. But, why ? We're strangers to you aren't we ?
After asking, while she knows that she only temporarily deflected his inquiry, she takes another look around. While she does it mainly to reassess herself, she begins to think that something feels off. That's something that she should have seen, but it eludes her.
— Yes, we are strangers indeed. And I want for that to change if possible.
— But…
— You know why. You're clever, I saw it. We… We can't talk calmly, with him. So I have to find a roundabout way.
Isa closes her mouth. He's right, she saw that every time that both adults had to talk, the room seemed to become colder. His reasoning, reaching to her in order to mend the gap with the boys, seems sound, since she is the one with whom the Elder seems to have less problems to talk.
— I was an orphan.
As those words exit her mouth, Isa tenses. She knows, she deduced, that the Elder's feud with Garm has something to do with her. Now, saying this will not help in this situation, even if it is only the truth.
— I barely lived by eating trash. Dad and Mom, they died by bandits.
Looking in the man's eyes, she sees his sadness, but he stays silent.
— One day, I… I stole from a merchant. An apple. He, he caught me. He, he was ready to cut my hand but… Father, he saved me. He paid for the apple and asked if I wanted to follow him.
— I, see. You were lucky that he was here.
Despite himself, the Elder can't help but think those words. He knows the usual penalty for thieves and, while in his village people are usually mellower, wandering merchants tend to directly use the harshest method to protect their living.
— Did you eat well, since then ?
Hearing this, Isa smiles beautifully.
— Yes ! Even when the hunt wasn't good, he always did what he could to give me enough to eat. I…
Her face fells, and the Elder tenses at that. Does she have something to say ? Until now, everything seemed so good, too good.
— I would prefer to eat less, and he eats more. He needs it to hunt.
After this, a heavy silence comes in. Isa expects her host to react, to contradict her since he seemed to only care about her well-being and not the one of the other, but he doesn't. Looking up at him, she sees his pursed lips, his tensed jaw and his vacant gaze. It seems that she would not have to talk more after all.
— How… How old are you ?
— Seven, I think. Or eight. I don't know.
—... I'm… Sorry.
The Elder stands up and, slowly, goes back to his bedroom before closing the door. Isa, now alone, looks around once again. She wants to find what caused her uneasiness, but she knows that Garm won't take it kindly if she rummages in their host's belongings. Instead, in order not to stay idle, she takes a broom and begins to sweep the floor. Afterwards, when the hunters return, nothing seems to have changed for her. The Elder keeps frowning each time that he looks at them and Garm stays as silent as usual, even if he seems meek since the first step he took in this house days ago. She even thinks that the situation worsens when the Elder berates Dorian for 'putting his nose where it doesn't belong'.
The next day, after the morning training, everyone separated once again. As they track a wolf pack, Garm gestures to Dorian. The teenager sighs. Even if he is used to his mentor's laconic nature, he could at least use his mouth to tell him to talk.
— Sorry. I didn't know he would catch me.
A shrug answers.
— The house. There is something unsettling, but I can't find what. Now that you told me to look at it, It gnaws at me.
— How many beds ?
Once again, the teenager's train of thoughts is halted. How many beds ? How could the number of beds have anything to do with their discussion ? He still takes some time to think before answering.
— He… He has two beds. One in Isa's room, and his own.
— And ?
Both men stopped moving, by now. The warrior's gaze is steady and focused on his pupil.
— Well… There's nothing to say, right ? He has a bed for guests and the same one for himself ?
— Guests ?
Dorian feels stupid, seeing the smirk on Garm's face when he asks this. The Elder, having guests ? His house doesn't feel half as good as needed to entertain guests. The boy blushes.
— He…
As Dorian's voice trails while he thinks harder, Garm lifts his left hand while his right one unsheathe his sword. His movements are instantly mimicked by the boy who, at the same time, looks up. The flying shadow that accompanies them stays calmly still on the tree, looking around, but nothing seems to tip it off. Garm, seeing his pupil gaze, smirks. The boy really needs to be more subtle if he wants to keep his ability a secret from everyone.
Mere seconds afterwards, three men come out of the wood in front of the duo. Their fur coats, short swords and bows placate them as hunters. Their movements, not so much. Garm takes a step, positioning himself between Dorian and the false hunters.
— Calm down, man. We're between adults here, right.
The lead hunter smiles while talking. His calm appearance and easygoing moves make clear to the warrior that the other is used to this kind of standoff.
— What do you want ?
— A direct one, you are. Good, nothing better than a man quick in his mind. You see, we are in need of some food, and means to procure it. Would you kindly give it to us ? The money too, of course.
Hearing those words, Dorian jaw clenches. He tenses so much that his knuckles turn white. Garm seems to relax instead.
— No.
Immediately, the robber's smile disappears. His pairs catch their swords and prepare.
— And, here we are. Another fool who thinks himself a hot shot. I saw your standoff with the elder, you know. No one will search for you once you die.
Despite the taunts, Garm stays relaxed, waiting patiently for them to do the first move. Dorian, on the other hand, seethes with frustration. He wants to unleash all his shadows on those things that pass themselves as human, he needs to rip them apart. He, however, keeps his thralls in check. Should he unleash them, Garm would see them and he'll have to flee.
— Well. All meals need to be earned after all. Guys.
As one, the three surge into action. One goes straight to Dorian while the other pincer Garm in order to impede him from helping the boy.
Dorian, thanks to his reflexes more than his thinking, intercepts the first slash aimed to his neck with his sword before receiving a kick in the stomach which sends him flying. The bandit snorts and approaches again. The boy lay on the ground, trying to catch his breath. His sword out of reach, he can't do anything but watch his impending doom.
"We are in a forest, there are branches and stones everywhere."
One of the first things Garm told. His first lesson. Of course, the boy knows that his opponent is aware of this. Anyone fighting in a forest should be. Facing the calm pace of the bandit, Dorian crawls away on his back. He goes to his sword, knowing he won't reach it in time but hoping to mislead the other.
As expected, the teen feels a foot step on his leg when he is but mere inches away from his weapon. Looking angrily at the bandit, he throws a rock to his face before using his free leg to kick what pins him down. The stone is nothing more than a meek hindrance, swatted away with a casual move. This move, however, distracts the aggressor long enough for the kick to connect.
Dorian quickly grabs his discarded sword and turns back, only to see his opponent's reddened, distorted face. The man lunges forwards, overextends himself to end this fly as soon as possible, only for his attack to be parried. Dorian finds his pace. His mind calms as he remembers the numerous spar against Garm. Sure, he finds it difficult to breathe, but this isn't his end. He's stronger, stronger than before, and he only finds now how much it is. The bandit tries another slash, vertical this time. Sidestepped. Dorian keeps his sword near his body, pointed at the threat, then ram his own body against him. The sword pierce and both men fall.
The teenager stands up, a moment later, and looks at his foe. Slain. Within a second, Dorian throws up. He already had his shadows kill animals, but now, with his own hands, it's his first blood. Against a human nonetheless. His stomach empty, he can finally look at the other fight only to find Garm ending the last of his own.
— Cleanse your sword. You did great.
Garm looks softly at his pupil. He has to talk to him, to ease him for this thing, but…
— I'll see around, if there is another one.
He can't. Instead, he'll let him alone, for the boy to do what he has with the corpses. After understanding what those things following them were, the warrior didn't take long before linking the shadows form with the game that the boy brought back from the traps in the wood after all.