Market-Month (first stop)

It is market-month. Mother and I have spent the last six crafting a fine selection of baskets and containers: grass, reed, vine, even oak; large, medium or small, dull or bright (I love working with dyes). Weaving is a skill handed down through the  countless generations of my family and although I am not yet a master of this art, I am proud of my work and excited to finally see it displayed on our market stall in Sidhe Village. Mother says it is good enough at last, for trade. A compliment to make me gush. Our home, split between the lofty boughs of three enormous trees and connected by rope and wicker bridges, has been crowded for weeks now. Baskets have been stacked high against every vertical surface, ready and waiting. We, my young brother helping the way only a tiny boy can, now, move them downstairs to the small cart readied below. The morning is warm and clear beyond the leafy canopy of The Wildwood and the cheerful atmosphere feeds a feeling of excitement. Only one stack left to fetch. Mother retrieves it and I climb slowly onto the old wooden cart to sit amongst our wares; it groans loudly and rocks as my weight adjusts across it. Jasper is less careful, embarking via running leap, and as the towering pillars sway precariously around me, my narrowed glare serves as fair reprimand: we haven’t the time to start packing again. Mother ties down a supply of raw food and the last of the load with rope (another of our crafts), and moves to prepare the old horned beetle (the largest kind, probably, in all of Caido) for travel. His harness rests between hard plates of armour so that it doesn’t hinder his movement and Mother stands to the left of his head, as she will for the whole of the journey. His back is barely level with her hip, though he can easily pull thrice his weight. Another one of his kind often aids us also, but he is best seasoned for this task. And so we set off while the hour is still early. -two days and one morning pass- Without issue, we arrive in the vicinity of the toll bridge in Stonesong.   Sea of Branches, the village half way to Sidhe, is alive and bustling beneath a baking Longheat sun and the ripple of its crystal-clear waters, cast winking lights against the walls of the curious little buildings (each perched upon stilts in the river itself). Though I love this place and its quite unique habits, the idea of living at the mercy of untameable currents is one I cannot fathom. We will not stay here long, perhaps only the night. Long enough to resupply and rest our beetle. After our midday meal, provided at cost by a local fishmonger (my serve is without ‘meat’ of course), I take leave and wander alone towards the riverbank where I hope to either catch glimpse of the Naiad, or, more likely, a shoal of  gleaming Goldfish swimming to sea, downstream. Perhaps I can add another to the wildlife section of my journal. The flavour of the air is quite brackish and I inhale it deeply.

IANTO

there's a bulletproof bond

Not the Naiad, and not goldfish - not today. No, today a most unusual creature inhabits the Stonesong, though quite what a red fox is doing in the clear water is anybody's guess. Ianto, of course, has his reasons, and today his reasons are quite simple. He does not want to pay the toll for the bridge. And so, congratulating himself on being quite ingenious, he paddles ink black paws through the river, disturbing the current and the shoals of smaller fish that attempt to swim downstream, to reach the bank along the other side.

Reaching it at last, he finds sand and stone beneath his paws and emerges, swamp-like, from the glittering waters. Whiskers twitching, he scrunches a black nose and sneezes, abruptly shaking himself off and sending a spray of cool droplets out in all directions. That done (and feeling thoroughly refreshed, as well as smug), Ianto shifts back onto two feet and straightens up, sweeping copper hair out of his face.

When he glances up, it is to see Hazel very close by on the riverbank. With a grin that flashes the gold in his teeth, Ianto puts a finger to his lips. Shhh, it seems to say. Our secret.

between me and you

Coding base by Sky!

The embankment, as tall as the piers’ wooden stilts behind me, plunges steeply down to watery rock-pools below. It has sides clean cut by the highest tides and walls baked like plaster by the burning northern star; across the water, although it is too far for me to see properly, I know that the riverbank is flatter and less rugged. Mud mixes with sand on either side, creating fertile loam for the roots of rambling blackberries and gigantic willows to take hold. I have watched my brother fall countless times from the old, creaky boughs of the latter; its a wonder he still moves at all. As I near the golden-brown edge, my leather-bound toes tread warily, careful not to press where the corner is weakest (discerning eyes note the small sections already crumbled). A tumble or slip down the side could cause injury that Mother just hasn’t time for. Below, my eye catches the playful white wink of sunlight on a ripple, but I smile knowingly and think: not this time! These bones, the toneless tendons between and poorly muscles wrapped around them, are not strong enough to weather such mistakes. Nay, I will find a safe route down to the shimmering shallows. A little up stream I spot a familiar dip in the ridge, a worn track leading from the village’s outer rim, towards it. There is a weathered, old timber sign that stands like a sentinel on duty beside it that reads: The Stonesong’s best fishing, (though I know of better). I wonder vaguely as I pass beside it, whether Mother and Jasper’s meal had been caught down here; I’ve never been enamoured by the idea of trapping and killing, myself. It seems unnecessarily barbaric. Lifting, then planting my walking-stick in achingly slow succession, I begin my descent down the sturdy, beaten path between cliffs. The sand at the base feels hot (even to my well-covered feet), and slippery jaws swallow each step before I find better traction at the edge. Rocks of varying size and shape, huddle together in groups around trapped water bodies and as I peer from one to another along the way, I see small crustaceans flattened across each bed; presumably the water towards the surface would be boiling. Had I any better mobility in this cursed body, I would venture with cupped hands into their world to retrieve them, and set them free in the frigid watercourse nearby. Poor little souls… Stepping away, dispirited eyes turn toward the built bridge that spans the river’s width. Mother will pay the toll so we can cross it in the morning and we will follow the road, then, all the way north to Sidhe. A flicker of movement between it and I diverts my notice though, and my narrowing gaze lowers to find the wetted-red pelt of an animal (I think), paddling on towards me. The guards at each end of the tollway do not expect payment from The Greatwood’s lovely fauna, in fact I’ve seen them offer food, so it is a big surprise indeed, to see the fox, lug its saturated self out onto the sand nearby to where I watch. The creature’s amber eyes glance upon me, causing me to shift as though it is me who behaves unusually; but suddenly it is not a fox’s face set around them. I have told my self before: it is wild, Hazel, only another beast, and my thoughts unexpectedly recall the strange white fox in Wildwood, that had led Isuma astray. What if- Human lips curl into a grin. Beneath it flashes golden lights against the bright of the sun and I stand motionless, disbelieving, but not quite shocked (for my kin do possess this inherent ability to shift). Perhaps that is the reason I'm not immediately compelled to flee (what a spectacle that would be). Instead I smile back broadly- But this cracks and falls. My mind states aloud as these astonished eyes travel up - and up, and up: “You’re no Fae…"

IANTO

there's a bulletproof bond

He has gotten a grin in return, and that in itself endears Ianto to the newcomer. Indeed, that puts him at ease even with her almost instant turnabout, and he glances down at himself as if in shock and horror. Why, you're right! Whatever has happened? the gesture seems to say, before he glances back to Hazel and smiles mischievously, dipping into a roguish bow at the waist.

"Very astute," he compliments her as he straightens himself up. "You're correct. My name is Ianto, the Greatwood's famous merchant, owner of the Wishing Wagon and charge of the Lady Arduinna." He dips his head respectfully. "I was just on my way to my wagon, in fact. Who might you be?"

between me and you

Coding base by Sky!

For the second time in as many months (or is it weeks?), I hear the name Arduinna mentioned. An eyebrow arches curiously, cautiously, as I survey his unexpectedly theatrical display. Though perhaps his beguiling behaviour is on one hand, attractive to my much more reserved personality, alluring even, on the other, it also fuels the natural wariness borne through my kind; like kindling to the fire. Famous merchant?... I wonder silently, green eyes searching for any crack in his confidence that might reveal his true intent; or Arduinna’s. Ianto is by all accounts the polar opposite of Jigano and I suddenly find myself wishing for the silver-maned scholars' calming presence. Drawing some inspiration from my time with him in the woods my answer slithers free of these stiff lips, “a weaver for my kin.” My breath grows shallow, my chest tight beneath the fur vest strapped upon it. The free fingers slide upwards, drawing my heavy cloak further forward from my shoulders. “What is the wishing wagon?” I ask him quietly, a mere shadow of the talker I had been in company of the previous, wondering if I’d maybe overlooked the not-Fae’s stall on the docks in the village. Surely I would've noticed any external product on display.

IANTO

there's a bulletproof bond

"A weaver?" Ianto repeats, his smile still bright and interested, though he knows better to approach any Fae he hasn't met just yet. He remembers being dropped into the Greatwood (unceremonious and terrifying a time as it was) and how wary of outsiders the forest folk were. Indeed, if it were not for Arduinna... well. A time better left in the past.

She mentions his Wishing Wagon and the smile grows back into a crooked grin, Ianto feigning a dismay that she would likely see through easily. "It is a place of delights and mysteries, my dear," he gushes. "I sell all manner of things there, from supplies to magical items created by the Lady Arduinna herself. It is a shame, truly, that you have never visited!"

between me and you

Coding base by Sky!

Oh? Perhaps his words are made all the more irresistible by the playful tune of his accent (this performance), for my mind, the traitor, too easily succumbs to a tide of imagined wares; more magical than not. What had been a standard, simple stall in a line of many the same, becomes a larger vehicle, coloured beautifully like the forest, fitted inside with packed stalls of its own; thread, pottery, books! Words roll off his tongue in a timbre of warmth, the melodic sounds distinctly foreign and very enticing. Between the voice and the dream, the lines of suspicion melt from my skin. There is a pause, time enough for my thoughts to shake free of their bind. “A Weaver, yes, of baskets and rope.” I affirm with a little more confidence. Only briefly, these eyes sail past him to admire the sparkle of the moving water; to consider my next move in private. “Would you have interest in either?” The temptation is real, though I know I risk Mother’s disapproval. It would only be one thing… Right?

IANTO

there's a bulletproof bond

"Always," Ianto counters, dipping his head in a respectful nod.

"Such things are ever useful. I have already caught the sun this season, so I have no need of a basket, but rope? Certainly. In fact, the Wishing Wagon has just recently set itself up along the banks of the river, so it might be good to tether it down." He laughed, as though there was a real threat that the wagon might rumble away on its own. (There was).

Her expression speaks of indecision, and the fox takes a slow and tentative step forward, as if he would stroll right past her and on his way. "It isn't too far down the river, if you would like to see it," he suggests.

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Coding base by Sky!

Eager as a fine-nosed hound, my heart lunges forward, ever ready to guide the rest of me astray; this mind though, it is wiser, still questioning, hesitating, lingering yet on the saddle of prejudice. “Arduinna…?” I muse further,  aloud, eyes caressing the smiling lines as they shift his pleasant expression. Whispers of conflict have stirred through the woods, though I am truly unsure of their reliability. Some say she led barrier-folk into the heart of Sidhe (that she betrayed Fae values by doing so). Others suggest that she seeks to build a bridge between civilisations, for the better, for a united Caido. All I believe is that the not-Fae don’t belong in the Greatwood, and that Delah’s army defends us against the invasion - so we can be safe and free. Maybe that is why I err on the side of caution now still- I’m not bringing him to Sidhe though The other steps forward and this figure barely flinches. “I would like to,” I admit at last, feeling the heat of excitement swell through my veins almost instantly, but the smile which has carved across my face weakens  again unexpectedly. “I will find my way there now…” The clouds of guilt amass. My feet are achingly slow, far from the swiftness of a fox’s flight, and I fear being a hindrance to this merchant. Leaning visibly against the old stick, I take two bold strides in the direction he suggests, forcing forth a smile to mask the storm of self-consciousness within. Mother won't miss me. I'll be back before evening. Hopefully...

IANTO

there's a bulletproof bond

She agrees to come along, and the fox's smile lights up his face. He has been in the Greatwood for a long time - since long before the barrier had fallen - but there are evidently still those who find it hard to believe his presence is welcome. But that is precisely why he exists - to convince them!

Taking a few steps further, Ianto pauses upon realising that she does not seem to be choosing to go with him. Indeed, even with his long strides, her pace is slow. Gazing over his shoulder, his smile softens and he tentatively offers her an arm, that they might stroll together.

"My dear, the day is young, and rushing does no man any good. Shall we go together? I don't mind how long it takes, and we can travel back here in the wagon, if you like."

between me and you

Coding base by Sky!

The smile that responds to his thoughtful gesture, one arm extended as though to assist me, is as awkward as the wingbeats of a fledgling bird, shy, and not in an introverted sense, either. I’ve never found power in isolation. This heart longs to be around others, to connect with them, it just doesn’t know how. My free hand peeks, tidy half-moon nails first, out between the heavy curtain of cloak surrounding me, though it hesitates momentarily while I examine the giant’s friendly eyes before fully committing to his offer. “Thank you, Ianto.” This voice is nervous, but visibly grateful and finally I slip my hand over his arm and grant him a little of my burden. “I am Hazel.” My name is offered gratefully, though still with an element of uncertainty - as though it is more than just the identity that is extended. I can only trust that a friend of the Wild Fae, Arduinna, is a friend too, of mine. The thought raises a question, and my tongue is swiftly upon it, “How did you come to be in her favour?” then blushing, “…if you don’t mind?” (I don’t know if you want to respond under the Wishing Wagon board? I’m easy)

IANTO

there's a bulletproof bond

"Anytime, my dear," Ianto smiles as she takes his arm, the fox arching a coppery brow as she continues and treats him further with her name. "Hazel," he repeats, tasting the word in his mouth before nodding as if committing it to memory. "What a lovely name. For a lovely woman, it seems." Here his smile becomes a touch mischievous; he can't help his crookedness, and it manifests in several different ways. Charm, at least, is the nicest.

They walk together, a slow stroll with the river singing at their side, Ianto shortening his steps so that they might easily continue their conversation. She asks about Arduinna, and whilst it still causes a small twist of discomfort in his core, he doesn't mind. Most are curious about the tale, and he is accustomed to telling it.

"I fell into the Greatwood close to a year ago, now. I come from the same place as many of those behind the barrier, but for whatever reason I was dropped here instead. I didn't know anything of my surroundings, of the woods... Arduinna found me and took me in before I could hurt myself too badly. She is my godmother, of sorts, and I am her charge."

between me and you

Coding base by Sky!