The Candles Burn Out For You. I Am Free.

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Main Canon: Hollowed Defiance (Jynn Centric) || Wandering Souls (Zhang Centric)

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Warfame

But he had more pressing matters to attend to. Just when was Naidia’s birthday? He felt like such a fool that he didn’t know that detail or couldn’t recall it from their talks about their respective childhoods. He didn’t want to ask her when they would eventually have their chat. If he had actually forgotten it, what would she think of him?

The quickest source to get the answer from would have been talking to her brothers, Santiago and Lucero, but he wanted to avoid the two for as long as he could. He just knew the two would immediately withhold the information and veto any gifts he would give to their sister.

His next two sources were unavailable. Reynauld was out leading an expedition in the Ruins that was rumored to be a lengthy one. Dismas was out of commission as he was stuck at the Sanitarium getting treated for something nasty he and his team picked up while in the Warrens, just as they completed their task — what terrible luck. 

Garrett had a feeling he would be able to see Dismas sooner than Reynauld, as the Sanitarium had recently received some quality medical supplies. But for now, he would do some sleuthing around the village. Just anything that would allow him to avoid those twin brothers as long as he could.

For the next few days, he perused around town, performing a few odd jobs and deliveries here and there, and struck up conversation with the townsfolk and his fellow mercenaries to find out if anyone knew of Naidia’s birthday — framing it as a “special day” — and to get a few ideas of potential gifts he could get her.

Most barely had a clue about what he was talking about concerning a “special day” that was coming up for the Heiress. Quite a few found it odd that he was asking such a question, and the additional questions about her likes made some suspicious. Just about everyone knew the sour history between the two, despite recent rumors that the two were on better terms now; many had their doubts that it had improved, and it was all for “show.” He had to play off the questions as he wanted to repay her generosity and kindness for not ousting him months ago, especially when he was going through a rough period. Some bought it, others not so much.

The least likely place he expected to get some answers from was the Rose Moon Bakery. He was just doing an odd job for the Valentines, the owners of the business, when he casually asked them for suggestions for any of the baked goods he could get for a close female friend. Like Rami had teased him during their one chat in the Weald, there were some keen eyes in the Hamlet that spied out his and Naidia’s secret courtship.

He tried his best to play dumb when Mari started to pry and tease, withholding who she suspected the special someone was, until her brother, Morgan, bluntly said Naidia’s name and told her to stop bothering the lad. Garrett nearly felt like he was going to have a heart attack as he went stock still and his face lost its color. He was glad they were in the back of the shop and away from the customers.

It took Garrett some time to recompose himself before he anger-whispered, questioning how they knew. Mari teased him by simply saying, “simple observations.” Morgan was more helpful by stating that Naidia and Mari like to converse, more so Mari liked chatting up the Heiress, and thankfully kept the more private details to herself. 

That barely calmed Garrett’s nerves, and Mari’s playful teasing about his jumpiness didn’t help, but he calmed down when she said she thought the two made a cute couple… in an odd roundabout way that also chided him about his early beginnings in the Hamlet. Hearing that always made him apologize.

It didn’t take long before Mari tried to pry some details of his perspective on his secret little romance, and he divulged nothing except that Naidia had a very forgiving heart. Though she kept pressing while he helped finish up the job they needed him for, Garrett learned that Naidia liked to patronize the bakery and had quite the mean sweet tooth for their sweet and tangy rolls. Especially, the sourdough ones.

While Mari was talking his ear off, he learned that Naidia’s twin brothers had put in an order for some sweet rolls for the upcoming week and some days. She would have talked his ear off with more info, especially Naidia’s preferred rolls, if her husband, Abe, hadn’t dragged her back to the front as a client needed her. 

Morgan apologized for his sister’s chattiness. Besides paying Garrett for the task completed, he also offered to put in an order of sweet rolls for whatever reason he wanted to give them to the Heiress at a discount… or free, knowing that his sister would want details from Garrett if he was willing to spill. Garrett thanked him and said he would think about it and may swing back around when they’re closing up shop or when they’re less busy. Internally, he felt like he would take up the offer and see if they could make the rolls more “special” compared to what the brothers were ordering. Just a bit of playful competition he couldn’t pass up.

He would have asked for the exact date the twin brothers would retrieve their order, but decided against it. Besides having that inkling to outdo the brothers, he didn’t want to give the impression he may have been seeking to sabotage their idea. Yet, he was a little closer to knowing the date, and that eased his anxious mind.

With one potential delectable gift secured, his mind shifted back to more info gathering and plotting out what he could get for Naidia. The investigation only lasted a day longer before he gave up the unfruitful venture. He’d just wait until the most trusted sources were free, or if it finally came to it, he’d bite his pride and fear so he could ask her brothers.

Ignoring the most likely inevitable source he would have to turn to, he quickly shifted his focus to what he could get for Naidia. Though he still felt like he was learning her likes, dislikes, and little hobbies, he had a few ideas. He’d have to check if Laima, the owner of that Nomad Wagon, had any new exotic plants in stock. Though her little garden booth on the balcony was bursting at the seams with greenery, Naidia always enjoyed receiving a new plant to add to her collection, study, and nurture. And he had noticed she would put in an order for candles every once in a while. The warm and comforting scents of cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, and vanilla looked to be favorites of hers, as well as anything that could capture the smell of freshly baked bread on a farm.

Garrett knew he would be toiling away for a few nights to make those candles flawless. 

Eventually, he caught wind that Dismas had been released from the Sanitarium. He had been cured of his affliction, but it seemed like it had aggravated his old death scars, forcing him to rest. Which, of course, he knew his stubborn friend would find something to do in the Hamlet that wouldn’t land him back in the Sanitarium too soon. Usually, that would have been the candle shop, something most of the Highwaymen gravitated to when stressed. But knowing what was irritating his friend, he knew the man would want to get that off his mind before he even attempted to make any quality products. The man hated poorly done work, and too sour a mood would lead to terrible products.

Garrett figured he’d find him patrolling the town. Even in a pained state, the man liked to do a few rounds of security, as well as catch any gossip or malicious rumors. Something that increased after Vvulf’s incursion. It was only a matter of time before another brigand band grew as bold as Vvulf’s old gang. Or those cults and supernatural horrors that plagued the lands grew tired of the Heirs meddling. 

—————————————

It was another uneventful day in the Hamlet. Something that was always a blessing to the normal and strange inhabitants. It was a fine day with fair weather as a gentle, constant breeze kept most of the heat away, and the sun shone brightly with only a speckling of clouds dotting the sky.

Garrett had done his usual morning rounds of checking in on the candle shop, chatting with his fellow mercenaries and friends, and doing some odd jobs around the town. He also had the pleasure of avoiding Head Recordkeeper Tessa. 

For the past few days, the Recordkeeper had been trying to pin him down to join her back at the Archive to have a “friendly chat.” With his senses always high and naturally being skeptical as he knew the woman was touched by something strange, he managed to slip away whenever she would corner him. That barely deterred her. They would eventually have their chat, she would tell him when they crossed paths again. 

“The dice have been recast. The strands have been rewoven. It is written in the stars.”

He just continued to ignore and avoid her. Even if the “stars” willed it, he wanted to have a sane mind when he saw Naidia again.

Around noon, he began his hunt for his doppelgänger. It wasn’t too hard a hunt as he was familiar with the usual routes Dismas would take when he was doing his patrols. Scouting from the rooftops made it so much easier.

“Ah, there he is. Wearing a lighter coat on his shoulders and in a sling? That scar must be aching badly.” Loosely holding onto an ancient, yet sturdy gargoyle on an old, creaky watchtower, Garrett was scanning the southside of the Hamlet. It only took a few bounces from group to group for him to spot the familiar inky mop of black hair and red neckerchief. “And Reynauld? He’s back?” He squinted as a sharp silver gleam nearly blinded him.

He blinked a few times to refocus his vision and looked again. “No, not that knight.” The shape of the armor was different, having many more segments, several hanging charms made of precious metals and gems, and flowing fabrics. And what stood out the most was the foliage. 

“One of the Kal’mar’tyrians is with him. Huh.”  It was rare to see one of the more armored members wander around town unless they were with one of the healers or clerics. “Are they finally lending their more hardened members for the expeditions now?”

He lodged the thought for later. Taking note of what direction the two were heading, he swiftly descended the watch tower and snaked his way through town to find them perusing the contents of a stall of one of the wayfarer caravans that was in town. 

“Hey! Dismas!” He called out.

Dismas was bent over, examining a set of throwing daggers that had layered colored patterns, the rather short and heavily cloaked owner of the particular stall was holding. His ear twitched, hearing his name being called out by a familiar raspy voice. He told the owner, “One moment and hold that for me,” before he straightened himself up and looked for the origin of the voice.

It didn’t take long for him to spot the person hurriedly making their way over to him. He let out a faint chuckle as a ghost of a smile crossed his face as he pulled down his neckerchief. He raised the hand of his good arm and waved. “Ello, Garrett!”

In a few more strides, Garrett was there, and the two greeted each other with a hearty smack of a handshake before pulling each other into a shoulder bump. A faint hiss escaped Dismas’ lips as he rubbed his bad shoulder and chest. He quickly told his friend he did nothing wrong.

“Besides,” Garrett just gestured to the sling and didn’t finish the thought, “how have you been?”

“Fair to middiln’. You know how these particular scars go.” Dismas gave a slight nod. Garrett fought a grimace as his throat trembled, but nodded. “How ‘bout you? Finally all there? Or still a little rattled from your venture weeks ago?” Flashing a wicked grin, he leaned forward and knocked his knuckle against his friend’s head a few times.

“Knock it off!” Garrett smacked his hand away as he took a step back. “I am fine and better. If I were not, I think we would have met in the Sanitarium days ago. And you and Arsène would have banned me from the shop ages ago.”

“Heh, heh, heh, right. Right.” Dismas chuckled. “Same with your… ailment?” His eye drifted down to the necklace that held that accursed red liquid.

Garrett’s throat tightened, letting a grimace slip through, for just a moment before relaxing. “All in order, thank the Light.” He was still awaiting the day he would wake up sporting some mosquito quills. “Same,” he tapped at the center of his chest, just below the ribcage, “with it. Been behaving well for once.”

“Good to hear.”  

“Is this a fellow compatriot?” A female voice intruded. There was a faint echo to it as another voice trailed behind it. The sound of foliage rustling followed, peppered by the clinking of armor.

Just behind Dismas, his armored compatriot turned their attention away from the stall and to them.

They were just a few inches taller than Dismas and broader than him — perhaps it was the plants that made them wider? They were just as armored as a Crusader, but their silver armor with a faint bronze sheen was much smoother, with segments mimicking the petals of wide and narrow flowers. Several root-like tassels hung from their wedge-shaped helmet, with some draping around and over their shoulders.

“Hm? Uh, yeah.” Dismas took a step to the side so they could join in. “Fellow compatriot and good friend of mine, almost an annoying ‘younger’ brother,” he grinned, which only got him a nasty glare from Garrett, “after putting him through the paces. Still couldn’t save him from his flirtatious tongue during his early days, but he got better.” 

Garrett rolled his eyes at the continued teasing.

“Garrett, this is Rivers. Prefers going by Ri’vi. Ri’vi, this is Garrett.” Dismas introduced the two.

“Greetings and Bienvenue, Garrett.” Ri’vi extended her right hand. Several charms made of precious metals and stone that were intricately strung into a decorative knot wrapping that sprawled up their forearm clacked together. 

Hearing that faint echo nearly made Garrett raise a brow, but he quickly fought back that suspicious part of his mind. He noticed Dismas was relaxed around her.

He’s had good judgment as long as I’ve known him. But definitely picking up something more from this person.

“Pleasure meetin’ ya, Ri’vi.” He took her hand and gave a hearty shake.

His eyes studied every bit of their person. Taking in the lively green foliage and myriad of colorful flowers that somehow didn’t clash with the dark, muted turquoise and shades of bronze and sienna of the fabrics she wore.

Wonder what troubles this order has dealt with that they have armored cloth. And what’s with all the plants? He noticed how some pieces looked like they were sprouting from underneath the armor. Has to be uncomfortable…

“So what brought ya to me?” Dismas said once the handshake was over. He looked back over to the stall owner, who was patiently waiting for him. He pointed at the throwing knife set and another, before undoing one of the pouches around a belt, letting the contents jingle heartily. Though their face was hidden, the owner enthusiatically nodded their head and went to wrap up the selected items. Dismas looked back at Garrett. “I know when someone has questions and is skulking about.”

Garrett raised his hands and dipped his head as a sly smile crossed his face. “Guilty.” 

Now, how to talk about Naidia without saying her name? 

“Just have questions dealing with a certain someone, as some important day or something like that is coming up. Some bislis or something as extravagant.” Garrett aimlessly gestured with his hand and put on an annoyed face. “Been trying to track ‘em down, but of course they slip out of town for gods knows how long. Kratzs.” He rolled his eyes. “Gentrys, such an ‘nnoying sort.”

Dismas raised a brow. Near immediately, he could tell Garrett was partially speaking in code with some of the words he used. He quickly deduced he was speaking of one of the more upper-class folk, but wasn’t sure who. He was about to respond until the stall owner caught his attention. What he wanted was all nicely boxed and wrapped up in silken cloth. He paid for it and took it. With his purchase nicely tucked into his slung arm, he gestured for the two to start walking with him.

“Blue bloods, feh.” Dismas rolled his eyes. Most of them were annoying to deal with. “Name of the tosser?”

Garrett chuckled. “The dung hopper.” He shook his head. “Still yappin’ on about that Farmstead and why we haven’t taken care of it yet.”

“Festus…?” Dismas mumbled under his breath as his eyes narrowed. 

One of the gluttonous food merchants who had still clung to the town as the Heirs made their arrival, compared to the many others who had abandoned it for much safer towns. He was a constant thorn in the side back then and still was, to a point. He still wondered why the Heirs kept the annoyance around, but had to admit the man somehow knew how to get fair prices for food and other necessities the Hamlet needed.

“What does the fat bastard want?” Dismas let a sneer slip out, and a faint growl followed when the Farmstead was mentioned. The damn place… So wrong. “If I didn’t fear what the Heirs could do, I would drag that blabberin’ bellend to that crystal cursed farm so he would shut his trap.” He was glad they had specialized mercenaries that took on that special madness. He never wanted to set foot on those wasted lands again.

Garrett let out a hearty laugh to the point that he shed a few tears. “I’d love to see that!” He wiped away the tears. It took him a few moments to recompose himself. “Ah…” Just one more snicker snuck out. “As I said, the bastard is thinking of doing a bislis or somethin’ like it. Trying to get the details to make sure he’s not cooking up some trouble. ‘Specially, for the books.” He let out an annoyed sigh as he tapped at his coin pouch. “Know the Heiress won’t be pleased if the coffers are touched right now.”

“Hm,” Dismas grumbled. He was searching his memories. It had been some time since he had interacted with Festus, but he knew of no rumors of the man wanting to throw some sort of party. Know some festival is coming up soon… Something about lights and dragonflies, he can’t be talking about that. Festus hates bugs. He rolled his eyes several times. He was figuring the talk wasn’t fully about Festus, but still dealt with someone in the upper class. He has to be talking in a roundabout way for a reason. Probably because of Ri’vi.

“Can’t say I’ve heard of any plans the bastard is coming up with, minus swindling some deals for some imports with Bartholomew and Fiedler,” Dismas said. “Or maybe the pain of my old wounds is clouding my memories.” He grunted as he rolled his shoulder. “Can you spare a drop to help jog my memory?”

“Sure, those swine and carrion monsters didn’t scramble your brains?” Garrett teased and yelped when Dismas gave him a fair strike to his arm. “Deserved…” He grumbled as he rubbed the spot. “Just know he’s planning something for someone. And like I said, making sure he’s not cooking up trouble. You know how he can go overboard to make himself look good, or is trying to impress someone.”

“Right, right.” Dismas rolled his eyes as he remembered some “celebrations” that happened in the early days of the Estate, long before Garrett joined the foolhardy crew. Pointless and wasteful. Swear, the Heirs were about ready to throttle the man if he threw another banquet to try and butter them up after Naidia cut him off from the coffers. And he wished they did. Whose in the sights of the idiot now? If that is who Garrett is talking about. Tilting his head back and forth, Dismas searched his memories to find anything. Still, it was blank.

He let out a disgruntled huff as his fingers drummed against his purchase. Who… who… who… Wait. His mind was recalling something. But it didn’t deal with Festus. He let out a sigh he would have rather kept in. If I’m assuming right, let me switch fully to our chant in a more secluded area. Think the Yellow Hand is nearby…

Dismas gave a quick apology to Ri’vi that their tour around the Hamlet was being interrupted, but she was rather unfazed. She felt like she was still getting a tour and was seeing another layer of the Hamlet with how the two conversed.

Garrett took notice of the change in their surroundings as they descended a set of stairs, and he heard the sound of water trickling into the nearby stream. If only he’d send Ri’vi away. Think she’s picking up on our coded talk.

As they reached the bottom, Dismas directed them over to a dimly lit, hidden alcove, away from the other unsavory but hardworking compatriots.

“Garrett.” Dismas looked around the corner for a second before looking back at him. His eyes were thin slits.“››Let’s cut the roundabout coded cackle. Who the fuck are ya truly seeking info about?‹‹” He fully switched to a coded language he and a select and deeply trusted few of his fellow Highwaymen had come up with.

Garret let out an annoyed sigh. “››Do you blame me with them here?‹‹” His eyes darted over to Ri’vi before going back to Dismas. “›› It’s… a private matter.‹‹”

“››Spit it out so I can get back to making my rounds and getting her up to speed on how things work around here.‹‹” He thumbed over to the knight. His patience was growing thin. With Garrett taking a second too long to respond, he finally spat out his guess. “››It’s about the Lady, isn’t it?‹‹”

Garrett was just about to respond when he said that. He shut his trap and swallowed hard. It took him a moment to clear his throat before he nodded. “››Y-yes.‹‹”

“For the love of…” He broke the coded talk for just a moment as he rubbed his face. “››What about her that you can’t go talk to her!? She’s back in town, you idiot!‹‹”

“››Hey!‹‹” Garrett raised his hands. “››It’s a private matter. A surprise! Can’t just ask her. And she’s busy. You know how it gets when she comes back from being gone for so long.‹‹” He shot Ri’vi a glare as he heard her snicker at the two’s argument.

Dismas was rubbing his face again as he cursed his friend’s name under his breath. Just what was so private a matter that he couldn’t just go talk to the heiress? His mind went back to early topics until it all came to a screeching halt. “For the love of…” Taking two heavy stomps towards his friend, he jabbed a hard finger against Garrett’s collarbone. “››The hell are you planning for her birthday?‹‹”

Garrett recoiled, nearly tripping over his feet as he took a few steps back. Before he knew it, his back hit the wall, and Dismas was on him again. “››Hey! Hey! Hey! What’s with the—‹‹”

Dismas let out a low growl as he drew his face dangerously close to Garrett’s. “››I am saving you from your well-meaning, but love-struck arse. WHAT are you planning?‹‹”

Garrett’s face turned a few shades of red. “››L-l-let me breathe!‹‹” He nearly had to push the man off of him. Once given space, he took in a deep breath and rubbed his face. “››Look… I’m not planning anything crazy…” He rolled his eyes. He wasn’t that dumb.

Garrett explained what he had come up with so far for Naidia’s birthday. Some candles, maybe some new plants if that Nomad Wagon or any other trader had something exotic, some baked goods, and he wasn’t sure what else, as he also wanted to make it special since she was still with him despite his Curse.

Dismas listened. He shook his head a few times, not out of disproval, but glad the man wasn’t dreaming of doing something ridiculous. 

“Fecking getting me stressed over something so mundane...” Dismas readjusted his neckerchief. He fully dropped the coded language. That got a brow raise from Garrett. “What you’re thinking of sounds fine. She’ll probably love anything made by your hands, really. Just don’t do any surprises. Nothing extravagant. Bloody hates surprises… tch… And is iffy about gifts.”

Garrett raised a brow, hearing what his friend said next. He cocked his head to the side. “››She hates surprises? Iffy about gifts?‹‹”

He nodded. “Have you ever noticed how her brothers never surprise her with gifts? They always ask and just say ‘it’ll eventually appear for her.’” He said. “And drop the talk, Ri’vi is more privy to a lot of the goings on of the Hamlet. Especially its strangeness.”

“››No…‹‹” Garrett truly hadn’t with how he tried avoiding interacting with the two. His neck tensed as he eyed Ri’vi before looking back at Dismas. “››You sure—‹‹”

“She bloody knows. Convo slip-up from the Heiress herself.”

Garrett's whole body tensed as he grimaced. His face slowly grew red as his eyes darted over to Ri’vi. Is this one of the people Rami said had “spied out our romance?” Never crossed paths with her before. He then eyed some of the plants running down her armor. Or did she hear? Dammit, Rami…

Seeing his friend tense up like a stiff tree, Dismas let out an exasperated sigh before he turned to Ri’vi. “If you would be so kind as to enlighten my tomato-faced friend.”

Ri’vi let out another chuckle, causing her armor to tink and clank together. “Though I could not follow your coded talk, I take it now you two are speaking about Lady Cervantes?”

“Yep. Charmer here is planning out her birthday presents. Getting himself worked up like the love-struck idiot he is.”

“Dismas!” Garrett finally managed to work his frozen tongue. Face red hot, his fingers were twitching.

Ri’vi let out another rattling chuckle. She even raised a hand to her helmet as if to cover her mouth. “Apologies for my chortling.” She bowed. “I am not fully privy to your relations with Lady Cervantes, but I know she seems to care for you as my Order, and I, are working with the Sanitarium to find a cure for this Crimson Curse.”

Garrett took a long, hard swallow as he listened to her. She sounded truthful. The annoyed look Dismas was giving him told him he should trust her. But he was skeptical. Wish I could see your face…. “H-h-how… how did you learn of our…?”

“Truly, it was a slip-up some time ago.” Ri’vi nodded. “I cannot speak of what the current dealings were, but it did slip out from her due to frustrations with the current lack of progress on the cure. Those who know, no more than three, are keeping it a secret as requested by the Heiress.”

Hearing that more people knew of their private courtship made his heart tremble. He fought back a gag when he felt his leech tremble. Fuck, get your emotions under control. Beating his chest, he began to pace around and mutter under his breath. Calming his mind felt impossible as a maelstrom of thoughts flooded it. Who knew about this? How many was it now? Did his fellow mercenaries know? What were they thinking?

As he paced, Dismas and Ri’vi whispered amongst themselves.

“Is your counterpart always like this?” She asked.

“After his death, resurrection, and the start of their confounding courtship, yes.” Dismas chuckled, rolling his eyes. 

A few minutes passed, and Garrett was still pacing and mumbling. Growing tired of his friend’s minor spiraling, Dismas walked over to the man and gave him a hearty smack to the back of the head, nearly causing him to fall over.

“Bloody hell, you are an overthinker. Hope I don’t end up like you if I ever find a lover.” Dismas rubbed his stinging hand against his side. “I’ll throw you a bone and give you some advice. Talk to her about your plans.”

Garrett hissed out a curse as he rubbed his sore head. “Wouldn’t that ruin the intent of the gifts?”

“Like I said. She hates surprises and kinda gets iffy with gifts. Though I doubt what you’re planning would bother her that much… unless you’re dragging her to a location?” 

“Haven’t thought of a place yet…” The thought truly never crossed Garrett’s mind. “And what’s this about her hating surprises and the gift issue?”

He gave him a look. “You can’t be that daft.”

“Dismas.” Garrett narrowed his eyes.

He returned the glare for a while before he raised a brow when the man gestured for him to elaborate. “Bloody hell… guess that never came up in a chat...” He tugged on his neckerchief as he glanced at Ri’vi before looking back at him. “Sonia.”

Hearing the name made Garrett grimace. It was the name of Nadia’s stepmother. “››The hell did that woman do to make her hate surprises and gifts?‹‹” Near instinctively, he switched back to their coded talk.

“That’s something I’ll let you ask Nadia or her brothers.” Dismas shook his head. He didn’t feel like it was his place to share.

“Hm…” Garrett bit the inside of his cheek. Something to keep in mind, if Naidia would be comfortable with that.

“Speaking of brothers…” Dismas voice dropped to a whisper. Before Garrett knew it, Dismas was prodding at his chest with harsh jabs. “Why didn’t you go to them for your questions instead of me? Cutting it close to that date.”

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Garrett swatted the offending finger away. “You know why.”

Ri’vi let out a snort, which got her a hateful glare from Garrett, which only made her laugh.

 “By the Light…” Dismas shook his head. “You need to overcome your fear of them.”

“Easier said than done…” Garrett let the words trickle out as a whisper.

“Work on it. Hell, they may be able to help you with some ideas… as long as they don’t cut into whatever they’re planning on doing for her.” He chuckled.

“Or bar me from doing anything.” 

“You bloody, negative git…” He grumbled. “I will say, make her one of those fancy candles you got obsessed with. Think she’ll love one of those and one of those journals too.” He gave a few hearty, encouraging pats on the back to his friend. “Damn, candles have been selling like hot cakes, and it seems them journals are picking up too.”

“Ah, he’s the creator of the carved candles?” Ri’vi asked.

“Mhm.” Dismas nodded. “Think he saw something from a caravan and got obsessed with recreating it. Arsène and I were about ready to ban him from the shop with the resources he was wasting until he finally had his breakthrough. Once they started selling well, we got him to teach the others.”

“Interesting.” She nodded, causing some leaves to rustle. “Seems that a touch of his fervor was imparted on them. They have been quite the positive assistance in our rituals.” 

“Thank… you…?” Garrett said to both of them. Though with more of a question towards Ri’vi and those rituals. 

“Also,” Dismas nudged Garret a few times, “go to the Rose Moon Bakery for those sweet rolls. She likes their tangy bread compared to the others. ‘specially the fruit and spiced ones.”

“Already was planning to. Hell, learned that they know about our little romance.”

“Mari?”

Garrett nodded. Dismas let out a hearty laugh. That just made his friend sigh. He was going to pry from his lips later how many people knew.

As their conversation wound to a close, Garrett nearly forgot to get the exact date of Naidia’s birthday from Dismas. Of course, Dismas had to heckle the man for somehow not knowing that, but gave it to him. July 26th. 

With knowledge of the date and his nerves but calmed and frayed, Garrett bid the two farewell, after making sure both would keep their mouths shut about the chat. Dismas just rolled his eyes, and Ri’vi said he had nothing to worry about.

On his stroll back to his living arrangements, two things that wouldn’t leave his mind were Dismas telling him to have a chat with Nadia about his plans and to talk to her brothers. He felt like talking to her would ruin his ideas, but didn’t want to upset her with poorly chosen gifts. And he still strongly wanted to avoid having to interact with her brothers, but perhaps they could give him insights on how not to screw up, since it seemed like the hate and aversions were tied to her childhood trauma. Something was nagging at him to do so, even if it would end in disaster. 

“The worst they can do is ignore me with her back in town.” He chuckled as a few dark thoughts entered his mind. No poisonings. No hammers coming too close to my face.

It was something he was going to dwell on for a day or so.

—————————————

Over a sleepless night or two, Garrett worked on his gift ideas. Assembling a few signatures for the journal was all too easy, but he was undecided whether he wanted a soft or hard cover for the book; he set that aside for later. For the candles, he amassed an array of the carved ones as he tried to make just the perfect one for his love. Many ended up in the reject pile to be sold with the other stock for the shop, as he was over-scrutinizing his work for the slightest mistakes. A curl was slightly crooked. He twisted one in the wrong direction. The color was a shade too light or dark. It went on.

Feeling he was going to drive himself insane, he took a break. A walk around the Hamlet would calm his mind.

On his walk, he passed by the Rose Moon Bakery. His mind brought forth the offer made to him days ago. A discount or a chance for it to be free if he felt like entertaining Mari’s nosiness.

“Light, help me keep my trap shut.” He said a little prayer before he entered the establishment. He would rather take the discount than divulge something that would upset Naidia.

As soon as Mari laid her eyes on him, he found her asking him as “subtly” as she could if he would be placing an order for himself or a special someone. She was bristling with excitement as the notepad in her hand developed creases. 

He had to keep himself from rolling his eyes when he answered her that they were for himself and someone else. He almost thought she was going to faint as some choice morsel of information would make her eyes beam, and she would do a little hop before leaning further on the counter, prodding for something else. How lucky he was, it was a calm period for the bakery as it didn’t take long for her to become more blatant with her questions, barely keeping her voice at a whisper. She slyly mixed in what his preferred tastes were while fishing for more info on his hidden relationship. Garrett stayed as stone-faced as he could as he answered her questions, skirting around the ones that were too personal. He gave her brother a nod when the man shot him a pitiful look and mouthed “sorry.”

“Cagey, cagey, cagey.” Mari tutted with a pitiful pout. “You had to do something to charm her with how you were when you first came to our quaint town. Santiago and Lucero still very much want to throw you out after giving you a fine thrashing!” A little laugh slipped out.

Garrett rolled his eyes. He felt like he was dealing with a child. But sometimes he did wonder what made Naidia strike up their romance. “Like I’ve said before, she has a very forgiving heart. And her brothers…” He paused as an annoyed sigh slipped free. Those two… “Respect her wishes… even if they don’t want to.” He grumbled the other half of his sentence under his breath.

She continued to pout, poking out the bottom lip even more to exaggerate her disappointment. “Just give me a droooop more.”

Geez, she will not give up. He shook his head again. “No.” The corner of his lip tugged on the left side. He was fighting to hold in a smirk.

She pointed her pencil at him. “I will learn one day!” Her eyes burned with determination. Picking up her paper pad from the counter, she went over the order and tallied up the cost. Around 200 gold for everything, even with the discount. Expensive but fair.

As Garrett was rummaging through his coin pouch, a sickeningly sweet and drawn-out “buuuuuuuuut” made him raise a brow, but he refused to raise his head.

“I can knock the price down a little further if you give me just a morsel of honey.” Putting on her best “puppy dog” face, she batted her eyes.

Garrett only spared her a glance before looking back at his coins. He counted out the coins and handed them to her. “All I will tell you is my time here has… humbled me.” He had to fight a grimace as he felt those phantom pains stab and tear at his throat. “I apologized, gave her space, and was respectful towards her and her brothers. What happened some time later… just… happened.” He shrugged. There was no true way of explaining it. In truth, he thought he was hallucinating when he realized Naidia bluntly asked if he was still avoiding her and had ignored her subtle flirtations.

Mari narrowed her eyes as she studied his face for a minute before counting out the coins; a few coins were removed. She slowly brought her hand over to him. “Aaaaaanything else?”

“No.”

“Cagey.” She huffed before dropping the coins on the counter near him. “But I’ll take that drop.”

He just rolled his eyes, scooped up his coins, and tossed them back in the pouch.

“We’ll get your order started as soon as we can, and they will be ready on time.” She quickly made a copy of his order and handed him an invoice. “And if you decide to come around and—”

“You got your morsel, I’m not telling you anymore.” Garrett snatched the invoice from her sticky fingers and stuffed them into a pocket. He was already turning on his heels and leaving. “Thank you, and have a good day!”

“I—!” She was stunned before she crossed her arms and huffed.

“Told you not to even try, sis.” Morgan teased her as he passed by, which earned him a poke with her pencil.

—————————————

With the savory and sweet delectable treats ordered, Garrett continued his stroll around the Hamlet until a subconscious part of his mind brought him around to a specific part of a district he did his best to avoid unless a job or meeting brought him there.

Closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. A hearty yeast permeated the air with hints of aged oaks, vanilla, and other spices. His tongue trembled. It made his throat ache for a good drink. But he would get no such thing here.

Opening his eyes, they fell upon the Distillery across the street. One Lucero and Santiago had built after they fixed up the old brewery, making the Tavern owner Ashton quite happy, and revitalized the old wineries once their sister helped get the overgrown and wild vineyards back under the Hamlet’s control, purged of all trouble and corruption; they were thriving again. Just another venture from their home, they brought to the lands.

“To think I’ve heard rumors they want to start making mead too. Her family is rather industrious with all the spirits they dabble with.” Garrett mumbled to himself.

Thinking of alcohol had him itching to hit the tavern later for a stiff drink, or check if Bartholomew and his trading escapades with the port brought in any new exotic liquors. He needed to get some more of the rum Dimas had taken a liking to for future bribing. A chuckle slipped out at that devious thought.

“Your stressed mind brought you here for a reason. And you’ve taken a dose of that cursed liquid, so it should behave.” He sighed out a grumble. One hand went up to his neck to tug at the fresh vial of The Blood. He hoped he wouldn’t need it.

“Let’s see who I can find here… Don’t feel like walking to the Brewery.” He was hoping one of them was here today. “Hope it’s Lucero… At least he’s more talkative, even when boring holes into my skull… And I can outrun him.”

He craned his head left and right and shook the stiffness out of his arms before he strode with some confidence towards the distillery. 

He expected a few odd stares and gawks from workers and his fellow compatriots handling some odd jobs as he entered and made his way through the building. He waved off those who tried asking what he was doing in there, noting the faint panic in some voices meant one of the brothers was there. He just hoped it was the small one.

He nearly backhanded one fellow mercenary when they caught him by his arm and pulled him into a room and slammed the door shut. Just as he was about to tear into them, an all too familiar heavy stomps and jingling of many tools caught his ear. In a heartbeat, he pinned himself against the wall near the door, making himself as flat as he could as he listened to the thuds slowly fade. That was Santiago. He had memorized those heavy trods he took and the bandolier of tools he always carried on his person.

He thanked his fellow mercenary for the save and asked if Lucero was around.

They asked if he had a death wish coming in here, as they knew he wasn’t doing a job for the brothers or one of the managers, but told him he could find the brainy chemist in the tasting room. He was tweaking one of the aged batches of whiskey.

Garrett joked that he was itching for one today and thanked them again with the info. He knew just where that room was and knew a few roundabout paths he could take to avoid Santiago.

Making sure the older twin wasn’t coming down the hall again, Garrett snuck out and made his way as quickly as he could to the other side of the distillery.

It didn't take long before he arrived at the particular tasting room. Just peering into it, he could see the spiky black and brown hair of Lucero. The thin, young man was working with his various beakers and spices. Even with his lame legs, caused by a terrible sickness that nearly took his life when he was a child, the man had a quick pep in his step as he took limping steps back and forth across his work area, as he decanted the alcohol from nearby barrels and picked at various taste-altering ingredients, adjusting the flavor profile one fraction at a time. 

At least he’s not working with those chemicals that could melt me… I think. His mind couldn’t help but go back to that one threat Lucero made some weeks after the twins discovered the courtship. Just a faint tremble coursed through his body despite the gory horrors he had faced before and after that. Still threatens to turn me into fertilizer from time to time…

Even before he stepped through the threshold of the door, the smells of coffee and tart fruits caught his senses. Some of it was rather tantalizing.

Someone's getting experimental. He wondered what taste the man was aiming for. 

As he entered, he carefully spied out the room. It was just Lucero. Perfect. He closed the door as quietly as he could until a creaky groan from the old, heavy wood and a few squeaks from the metal hinges gave him away. 

“Who’s there?” Lucero asked. So deep into his work, he didn't spare a glance. 

Garrett bit back a groan. Gotta start somehow. He cleared his throat. “Morning, Lucero.” He greeted him as kindly as he could. 

The man was silent for a few minutes as he checked the alcohol content of one batch and let his mind process the voice. 

“Dismas? Arsène?” Lucero asked. So many had a voice like that, and only a few referred to him by his given name or nickname. But that rasp… that was unique… unless the person was sick. “You sound terrible. Have you caught–” As he turned, the concerned look on his face soon became a confused scowl. “…Garrett.” All pleasantries disappeared, with only disdain replacing them.

There we go. Garrett chuckled mentally. He put on a pained smile as he left the door partially ajar before he headed over to him. Just a hint of escape if he needed to run.

Lucero eyed the nearly closed door, his fingers wrapped around the neck of a beaker full of a dark amber colored liquid, before he looked back at Garrett. 

“To what pleasure do I owe this visit?” He did not hide the disdain in his voice.

Garrett raised his hands. “I’m not looking for trouble.” He laughed in his mind, knowing it would soon come. “I just have questions.”

He rolled his eyes. As he was turning back to his work, he paused. “Questions?” He didn’t hold back the scoff. “Questions?” He repeated with a raised brow. 

“Nothing bad… I hope.” He mumbled the last bit under his breath. “It’s… about your sister.”

Lucero had fully turned his attention back to the beaker he was handling, already poised to half-listen to what the rogue had to say. Until his sister was mentioned. The beaker slipped from his hand. It bounced from one desperate catch to the other before it unceremoniously tumbled onto the table, spilling its contents. 

Lucero cursed under his breath as he hurriedly worked to clean up the spill. Garrett cringed; he was going to go over to help, but a pointed finger and a harsh “you stay right there” kept him in his place. 

“At least I just started on that batch. Barely scratched the surface of altering it. Nothing truly lost. But my notes… Have to dry my notes…” Lucero let out an exasperated sigh as he wrung out an alcohol soaked towel into a waste bin and threw the towel into another bin. He picked up his still-damp notes and clipped them onto a clothesline that was just above his workstation. 

With that sorted, he leaned on the table, giving his weak legs a shake, causing his leg braces to creak. He then looked back at Garret. Adjusting his glasses, his narrowed eyes scrutinized the rogue from head to toe. It didn’t take much for the rogue to avert his eyes at how intensely Lucero was studying him. Though the neckerchief hid it, the faintest clenching of his jaw made it evident the man was swallowing hard. Even his gloved fingers were twitching.

Lucero cursed under his breath in Spanish before rubbing his face. He took a moment to reset his glasses and fix his hair. What does this scoundrel want? “What questions do you have concerning my sister?”

“It’s nothing concerning.” Garrett knew that would barely ease the man’s disdain. “It’s about her birthday. I just wanted to—”

Garrett was letting his eyes wander so he could keep himself from getting tongue-tied, or else he would have seen the startled look on Lucero’s face before hints of a concerned fury came in as he furrowed his brows. He barely registered the aggressive creaking coming at him until a sharp tug on his neckerchief dug into the back of his neck, dragged him down. That’s when he saw it. Lucero’s shaking eyes and gritted teeth.

“Just what are you planning, you crete—”

“Oi! Calm down!” Garrett attempted to jerk his head back, but Lucero had a firm grip. 

“Calm down?!” Lucero's tone was incredulous. “You… you… fiend.” He wanted to use more choice words. “What is your questionable mind planning?” His grip only tightened as he pulled on that neckerchief even more. He tugged and twisted it in his hand in some vain attempt, as if it were a noose laced with brambles that needed to be tightened before its criminal victim would be punished. 

Garrett gagged a few times until he was finally able to free himself with a solid pull back. “I am planning nothing vulgar! Feh!” Garrett spat. He had a feeling that’s where the man’s mind was focused. Where it had been focused for a long time. “You know…” He shook his head when his lips wanted to say “me.” That’s a lie… He shook his head again. With how I was when I arrived to these strange lands. “You know how this courtship has gone. I respect her wishes without question!” 

Lucero kept a firm glare on him, giving a faint nod that he was right. Just as he was about to speak, Garrett’s next action made him jump back.

Garrett slammed his fist against his chest. Just a faint squirming shift on the inside made him cringe, but he fought back the urge to gag. “And you know my ailment.” His eyes narrowed to thin slits before a pained grimace twisted his lips. He looked away. “I wouldn’t dare spread this damned Curse to her…” A faint tinge of pain followed his words. I miss being closer to her. I miss her lips. When was the last time we kissed? 

He took in a deep breath before looking Lucero dead in the eye. “Let the Light immolate me if I dare lay a finger on her to give her this cursed affliction. I will not spit on that mercy she showed me, that  I did not deserve which dragged me from that dark abyss of the grave I so desperately wanted to claw myself back into. As well as the continued kindness she shows to me due to my current affliction and my unwanted, monstrous companion.”

Silence permeated the room for a few minutes. 

Lucero had hobbled his way back to his work desk and was leaning on it. Rubbing his palm against his temple, he occasionally shot Garrett a glance as he mumbled his concerns and acknowledgments of the truths Garrett spoke.

He let out a heavy sigh as he dragged his hand down his face and let out a few more quick mumbles before he adjusted his vest and turned to face Garrett again. 

“You… speak the truth, in spite of your beginnings to your employment.” He didn’t want to fully acknowledge that. “And Naidia has only spoken positively of you and this…,” he motioned his hands around aimlessly as he rolled his eyes, “questionable ‘courtship’ she entertains with you.” He wished it could have been anyone but him. Almost anyone. And he didn’t fully believe his sister’s words concerning the Highwayman. “So,” he let out an exasperated sigh, “what are your questionssss,” he barely held back a restrained hiss, “and what are you planning?”

Garrett had to hold back a frown, hearing the disdain pushed in the word “entertain.” 

Calm down. If I go off on him, it will only “prove” him and his brother right. And let me be truthful. Hopefully, he won’t share the details with Naidia before I can speak to her. 

“Let me answer the latter first…” He roughly cleared his throat before he began to pace. A way to keep his mind calm. “It is nothing extravagant or sinister.” 

He couldn’t help but let his voice drop lower, as he snapped his head in Lucero’s direction, a faint little devilish grin crept across his face. The Heir narrowed his eyes. Garrett let a faint chuckle escape before he let his expression become plain once more. 

“Just a few treats, delectable delights she is fond of, some handmade gifts by me,” he placed his hand against his puffed out chest, just something else to annoy the brother, “and maybe a scenic view somewhere in the Hamlet.” He raised a hand as he wasn’t done. “None of this should crowd upon you and your brother’s plans for her.”

Lucero’s squinted eyes barely changed. “How do you know about that?”

“I somewhat know of the plans. Mainly the foods. Lady Mari is rather talkative and nosey.”

Lucero let out a heavy sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Several complaints in Spanish slipped out. Garrett chuckled, sensing a mutual frustration towards the baker’s nature. 

Lucero let out a few more grumbles before he rubbed his temple again. Everything sounds fair so far. “What are the gifts?”

“Candles. The fancy new ones I’ve been craftn’. Maybe a few journals, another hobby of mine. And maybe some plants if anything exotic comes into town from those roving traders.”

“Mhm.” Again, everything sounded fair. No hint of sinister intent. Or anything salacious. “And the location?”

“I’m… undecided.” He shrugged before tugging on his neckerchief. “I was… going to ask her for any suggestions… unless you have one?”

“Undecided?” Lucero let out a scoff, not entirely believing him. “A man with your roguish qualities would have surely scouted out a pristine, quiet location to whisk my sister away to–“ He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from speaking something he would come to regret. But the illicit thoughts were playing strongly in his mind, much to his dismay and disgust.

Lucero grumbled again, taking off his glasses as he rubbed his red face furiously. 

He… he hasn’t… They haven’t done that yet. And he prayed they wouldn’t ever. Brother and I have only stumbled upon them kissing, which hasn’t happened since Garrett was infected. But Naidia has been saying concerning things as of late... 

Lucero had to remember his sister played an equal, if not major, role in the courtship. Why did she pursue this? Just what does she see in him that she believes she may have a long future with him? Of all people! A mercenary?! A thief?! And murderer! If the stories are true… 

It took Lucero a few minutes to recompose himself.

“Undecided?” He questioned again, fighting his mind to keep his question to just that. “Are you seeking some special place? Planning something more?” He was losing to that overprotective side. “A…,” he couldn’t help but groan as he inadvertently tilted his head back and blinked several times as another horrid thought that he hated dearly came to his mind, “proposal?”

Garrett was fighting hard not to roll his eyes excessively. “Yes, undecided. There are a myriad of stunning locations across the Hamlet that I could—” He paused, stopping dead in his tracks as his mouth went slack as he registered the last thing Lucero said. Proposal?  “P-p-proposal!?” It was halfway between a shocked gasp and a question. 

Proposal? The word repeated in his mind a few more times. He felt a flutter deep within his chest. One trailed by a rising heat that made him dizzy. One that thankfully wasn’t his leech.

 Head slowly bobbing, he blinked a few times before he found himself stumbling. He was barely able to throw out his arm and catch himself against the wall before he crashed into it. 

“P-p-proposaaaal…” His throat felt parched, strangling his already raspy voice. He rubbed his throat, that old, aching scar, vigorously, as so many thoughts were flooding his mind.

Proposal!? Gods, no! I don’t think I could ever… His mind turned to his first love, and a faint hint of betrayal interlaced with all the guilt.  

I don’t think we could… I don’t think… No… No… He was enjoying his secretive courtship with Naidia, but couldn’t imagine ever marrying her. We’re too... I… No… The paths we walk… Her status… I would sully it if the truth were found out. If she is ever to return to her homeland, once they fix this place. He didn’t want to think about that day if it was ever to come to pass. 

No, no, no… They would never accept us… accept me… Her father… Has she mentioned me in any of those letters she sends back home? Would he even like me? He would never give me his blessings… His mind couldn’t imagine that her father could like him and see him as a fitting suitor for his daughter. 

And the upper class her family interacts with… Scandalous… We would have to stay in the dark like rats… Her stepmother would be… thrilled… Trying to fight that would be futile. He had seen it enough times during his line of work. Rarely did it play out positively. And her stepmother. A scowl slowly began to form. He knew that the woman would somehow use that to try to get Naidia’s father to disown her.

He pondered on that horrid woman for only a moment before his mind slipped back to disbelief and despair. 

Unless… His eyes slowly widened as an equally troubling thought came to his mind. Unless… unless she is planning… His breathing quickened as his face flushed red. He raised a hand to quickly hide that. To hide a faint gag as he felt a faint squirm in his chest. Oh… oh, no… He forgot how much of an unorthodox woman she could be.

She can’t be. No, no, no. She can’t be. That would be too fast for us! I still haven’t told her some parts of my past… About them… And then her brothers… No, no, no… They would surely kill me.

So engrossed in his thoughts, Garrett did not notice Lucero hobbling over to him. The young man looked him up and down, taking note of his troubled countenance.

Such a reaction tells me he has no plans of proposing. Good. Lucero closed his eyes and let out a brief sigh of relief. But Naidia still concerns us with her vagueness as of late.

Lucero waited a few more minutes before he took his cane and gave Garrett a firm, but not overly harsh, smack to one of his legs. Garrett yelped and hopped back. 

For just a second, one hand dropped down to the side where Garrett kept his main blade before he quickly remembered where and who he was speaking with.

The annoyed, if not faintly bemused, look Lucero wore confused him.

“Proposal… Gods…” He shook his head, still trying to comprehend that long-off possibility. “I… I have no intention of proposing to your sister. We… I… No.” He shook his head, swiftly shutting his mouth to stop his tongue and mind from flapping about aimlessly and potentially saying something that could get him in trouble.

Another annoyed sigh came from Lucero. Taking a few steps back, he set his cane against the table before he took off his glasses. Plucking a cloth from one of his pockets, he took a moment to clean them.

“I can tell from your reaction that you are being truthful.” He said, taking a second to look at Garrett, who was trying his best to keep a plain face. “But,” his eyes narrowed, “I will not lie. I still do not trust your intentions with my sister, even if she was the one who pursued this… ‘courtship’.” That still bewildered him and his brother. How they thought someone had put a spell on her when they found out.

“But… But…” He let out a heavy sigh, causing him to close his eyes tightly. His shoulders dropped. That cleaning cloth bunched up around his glasses for a few seconds before his trembling hands relaxed. He didn’t look up. “I…” It almost became a pained groan. “I would be a fool to not admit that you have… become a light to my dear sister’s life, as she leads this fight against the madness that holds this land.” 

Why? Why? Why? His thoughts were not so kind.

“You’veeee…” His throat tightened like a noose as he didn’t want to speak the next set of words. Why? Why? Why? “You’ve become… near and dear to her…” He wanted to vomit.

He proceeded to quickly mumble a few things under his breath, most related to his wishing that he and his brother could have successfully dissuaded Naidia from the notion, but she was headstrong. And then a few of those mumbles wished his thinly veiled threats had chased Garrett away, but it just made the man stay on his best behavior. 

Lucero let the silence linger as he finished cleaning his glasses. The little action helped calm his frayed nerves just enough.

Tucking away the cloth, he set the glasses back on his face. Taking in a breath, he let out a sharp exhale before looking at Garrett again. The man was still troubled, twitching here and there.

I wonder what myriad of thoughts is running through his mind? Lucerio shook his head.

“Now, back to my sister’s birthday, before I give you any advice, I warn you—”

“You and Santiago will kill me,” Garrett said, reflexively, continuing before it would click that he interrupted Lucerio. “You’d turn me into fertilizer soup with some of your chemical concoctions,” he gestured to the various beakers and barrels around them, “or your dear brother would chop me into several pieces and incinerate me in the ol’ furnace here, or scatter me across this gods’ curse land if I break her heart, or dare I say, ravish her like some uncouth fiend.” For just a second, he rolled his eyes at the latter comment, before catching himself. 

Shit. He was hoping his voice didn’t trail off into that sarcastic snark he could slip into. 

Lucero wasn’t too amused but ignored it. He just adjusted his glasses before taking a moment to lean on the desk. “I see we are still crystal clear concerning that. There is still a barrel with your name on it.” He smiled. It was not friendly. Garrett’s face twitched before he tugged on his neckerchief. “For my dear sister… What I will tell you, I do not say it lightly. She does not like surprises. Ask for her input. What matters more than any other thing is that you listened to her.”

Garrett nodded, listening intently. Just like what Dismas told me. “I will keep that in mind. Thank you.” He was entirely sincere. But a few thoughts troubled him. I wonder what her stepmother did to cause her to be like this. Should I? Before he knew it, his tongue was working on its own. “If you don’t mind me asking…”

“What?” Lucero asked, gesturing for him to finish his thought.

“Why does Naidia… why does she hate surprises?” He almost wanted to go back and swallow his words as he saw a faint hint of fury flash across Lucero’s face before the man looked away as his face faltered. Just for a second, he thought the man would pick up one of those liquid-filled beakers and throw it at him, but… but… he could oddly tell that that anger wasn’t entirely directed at him. For just a second, he picked up guilt as he looked away.

Lucero mumbled and cursed under his breath as he rubbed his face. Why? I do not want to speak of this subject… Did Naidia not tell him? But… I do not blame her for not wanting to speak of it… How could mother be so cruel? How could… how could I and Santiago be so cruel?

It took Lucero a few moments to regain his composure. 

“Why does she hate surprises?” He repeated Garrett’s question as he adjusted his vest. He let a sigh come out, not trying to mask it. “I do mind you asking this question. But… But… for your sake and hers… I will share part of it.” Feeling his hands wanting to work with something, he snatched up one of his tools and began to fidget with it. “It deals with mine and Santiago’s mother. Stepmother to her. The woman hates her with a passion that is beyond absurd. I believe Nadia has shared with you a few stories, correct?”

Garrett looked away. One nightly chat came to mind when Naidia opened up to him. “She… She has… sadly.” He had poor relations with his parents, but what his stepmother did made him balk. Jealous of a woman long dead that she barely knew, and that transferred fully to Naidia once her father learned of her existence. 

“Mhm.” Lucero nodded at the confirmation. He began to fidget with his tool some more as another heavy, guilt-laced sigh came out. “Brother and I didn’t realize it at first, as we were young and easily influenced by her, but mother enjoyed ruining gifts and surprises for her. She’d make such occasions that should have been joyous for Naidia, all about herself or… us boys... Despite father’s best efforts.” 

Lucero cursed in his mind for the role he played in his mother’s twisted games. To think if I didn’t catch that terrible sickness… Brother and I would still be hostile towards her. In spite of everything… In spite of how we were our mother’s loyal, blind pawns… Sister… Sister… You saved me with that old remedy from where you grew up, despite our mother’s and the doctors’ dismissal. What luck that Léa was from the same region you were from and took a risk applying it to me. You never got the credit, mother would never admit it, but Léa made sure that father knew… That I would know… How everything changed going forward. Recalling that time was always painful for him.

“So,” the word came out in a huff in an attempt to knock away the anxiety biting at him,” she’s rarely ever thrilled when she receives surprise gifts.. And somewhat the same for gifts in general. With the latter, she makes her annoyance less apparent than the former.”

“I… I believe I better understand everything.” Garrett said. He wanted to say more, but what could he say? I feel like there’s more, but it is best I don’t pry. With how he sounds, it must have gotten bad on some occasions… I wonder when he and his brother began to like her?

“So, again. No surprises.” Lucerio finally stopped fidgeting with his tool. He looked back at Garrett and gave him a firm stare. “None.”

“No surprise.” Garrett nodded. “I should talk to her and get her input… buuuut.” The corner of his lip twitched. So did his fingers.

He squinted. “But?”

“I still want to put a pinch,” Garrett raised two of his fingers and held them close together, “of a twist she won’t fully expect.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, but just a faint chuckle slipped out. “Of course.” Just a hint of sarcasm followed the chuckle. “The best I can say is let it be something from you that would make it special. It doesn’t have to be grandiose or extravagant.” Lucero paused for a moment as his eyes looked around. “Really, she does like the simpler things since she grew up on a farm before she came to live with us.”

“Something simple… Hm.” Garrett then wordlessly mouthed something as he tapped at his lip. A few ideas were forming. “Thank you. I mean it. I won’t squander your kindness and act a fool.”

“Mhm.” He nodded before shaking his head. “I pray you do not.”

Garrett just smiled.

As the Highwayman was about to take his leave, he paused in his tracks. “Can you inform your brother about our little meeting?” He asked with a nervous chuckle. “I… don’t feel like getting cornered…”

Lucero had returned his attention to what he was doing before Garrett had interrupted him. One brow was raised high, and one eye was narrowed. He was about to say something until he heard a weighty thud against that heavy wood door, causing those old hinges to squeal as it creaked open, before heavy footfalls and the jingle of many tools rang in the air.

Garrett froze; his face became as pale as a ghost. Shit!

“Brother!” Lucero exclaimed as he clasped his hands. “Perfect timing! Our favorite rapscallion has something to share with you!” He had a grin that just kept growing wider and wider as Garrett became paler and paler. “And no worries, he’s been on his best behavior chatting with me.” 

There was a grunted, heavy snort as the footfalls continued off to another part of the room. There was a hefty thud and the creaking groans of wood and metal as something was set down. Then those footfalls were coming back over to them.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Garrett was still frozen stiff. His digits twitched. His mind was racing, screaming at him to move and dash out of that door, but his body refused to listen. Move! Come on and move! 

Before he knew it, he felt that strong hand drop on his right shoulder, nearly causing him to stumble, but a firm grip kept him upright. He was about to keel over due to how fast his heart was beating; it was ready to climb its way out of his throat like his leech would. 

“So,” Santiago spoke. His voice was husky, much deeper than his brother’s. “What brings the shadow into the lion’s den?”

Garrett tried to speak, but only a wheeze slipped out.

“Oh!” Lucerio beamed with excitement as that grin never disappeared. “It deals with our favorite person in this world.”

“Oh?” Santiago asked. He then leaned over slowly until his face was right next to Garrett’s. A few prickly hairs from his mutton chops jabbed at Garrett’s face. “Oh? Is that so?”

Garrett wished one of Rami’s otherworldly tears in reality could swallow him up right now. Another wheeze came out, but he managed to say “yes.”

Santiago gave him a firm squeeze on his shoulder, but did not release it much to Garrett’s dismay. “So, do tell, what about our sister brought you in here this morning? It must be important.”