#jhazel

Amina’s head tilted, silver piercings in her ears and nose catching the light. “Don’t be stupid,” she said, her voice deep and coarse like unmilled grain. “You fucked up good, for sure, but you didn’t ruin everything. You always think in extremes.”

 Jhazel frowned, her nose scrunching a little. It was true, and she had heard it from Amina before. Once, as an apprentice, she got all but one of her hazelnuts to flower, and she deemed it a failure. Amina talked to her at length about increments before she acknowledged it as a partial success.

 “You laid a curse because of what, this thing about your brother moving out? Falling out with you, wanting space, getting involved in crime? He was a teenager, Zel, you idiot. Teenagers do that. That’s what they do. They’re dumb shits and they do dumb shit and you tried to stop him, so he just got even more dumb. It didn’t need the nuclear option. You didn’t need to break the guy’s life.”

 “He took my brother—”

 “No,” Amina cut in. A potato thumped into the bowl at her feet. “Nobody took your brother. He’s eighteen. He made his own choice. You disagreed with it, sure, but he still made it. Marius isn’t the witch in this equation.”

 Jhazel went stiff, hands tightening. “No, I didn’t change his choice, I – I didn’t do anything! I swear, I never used my magic on him, not after – never again. He made the decision himself and I let him, I tried to understand, I tried to talk to him and he – he...he didn’t have to leave.”

 The peeler glided around the potato like a journey around the world. “He didn’t have to leave or stay. He had to choose.” Amina’s voice is level and ruminative. “He chose. Your responsibility was to support him in his choices, even if you thought they were mistakes.”

 “I can’t! How can I support him going to – to be a criminal’s accountant?”

 “You support him, Zel. You look after him. You catch him when he falls.”

 “Do I catch him when he dies?”

 Amina’s next words died on her lips.

 Small on the bed, Jhazel stared at her hands fisted in her lap, and shook with repressed emotion. “He’s dead,” she stated, voice quieter but no less desperate. “Marius took him for a lookout, and there was a gunfight. Denny was, he was the – he was the only casualty.”

 Death was natural. It was part of life, the counterpart of life. Amina had taught Jhazel to accept and even treasure deaths in nature. They had watched the dead rot and return to the soil, and seen how that could nurture new growth. Jhazel had watched the wolves hunt their prey and kill it, and had nodded sombrely at the way of it. It was normal.

 Guns, shoot-outs, and the murder of an eighteen-year-old apprentice accountant were not normal.

 “I raised him f-for six years,” Jhazel said, her voice sharp. Her breathing was speeding up. “I did it alone. Six years, from when he was twelve, he needed me. Then he – I watched him go. I waited, I tried, I thought he’d realise and come back or at least reach out to me. I was patient, I swear. It was – it was almost a year of waiting before I heard, and by that point h-h-he’d been dead for months. Fucking months, because Marius didn’t want the police involved, he just didn’t t-tell me and my brother’s-s dead, he’s dead...”

 The peeler fell into the bowl with a clang as Amina moved forwards. She wrapped the younger woman in a hug. For several minutes, Jhazel only shook, like the last leaf of autumn being shaken from its branch.

 “I’m sorry,” she murmured in Jhazel’s ear, the way she’d done when her mother had died.

Mariano saw the subtle shift in Bastian's posture as himself and Jhazel worked in the garden. The set of Bastian's shoulders became firmer. His rhythm of splitting wood only slowed just a hair.

Mariano felt it too. A prickling at the back of his neck that sent tension creeping up his arms. "We're being watched." Mariano whispered as Jhazel nodded. She closed her eyes, and the smell of her magic--and the forest's--began wafting through the air.

In an instant, Mariano saw ten figures descend on the little cottage. "Get the witch!" They declared, triumphant and eager.

Mariano jumped to his feet, pulling his sword from his sheathe. He couldn't light his blade up with his magic, not here in the forest. Bastian couldn't shift either, not without risking harm to the trees and plants. That was alright though, he thought as he parried one swing and rent a horrific gouge into the man's side.

He needed to stay close to Jhazel. His own armor wasn't the best, mostly being leather, but it was better than not having armor at all like their gracious host. "Get inside!" Mariano shouted to Jhazel, grunting as his sword's hilt caught another strike from someone new. "We'll hold them off!"

Jhazel didn't make a move for her door though, only standing as the earthy smell of the magic of the forest intensified further. The wind almost seemed to shift as someone fell, catching a thrown hunk of firewood to the temple. Her magic was powerful, far stronger than Mariano's could hope to be. It seemed to require so much focus--but she knew what she was doing. He had to trust her.

Howls echoed through the brush, distant but getting closer.

Mariano finally overpowered his immediate opponent, sending him stumbling backwards. One more slash of his sword made sure that he stayed down. The wind picked up, the birds going quiet. All he had to do was guard their host. He could do that.

Bastian barely had a chance to shout before magic crackled past Mariano's face. The hair on the back of his neck rose as the smell of pure winter whizzed just in front of his nose. A mage.

Mariano whipped around, locking eyes with the most dangerous opponent in that clearing.

As a third swordsman charged in, and three more converged on Bastian, the mage fired another blast. This one clipped Mariano's shoulder, pulling a breathless gasp from him as he was sent sprawling away from Jhazel from a sword swing. The winter's grip made it even harder to keep his hold on his blade, to keep his coordination. He rolled to his hands and knees, managing to block another swing before it connected with his neck.

Jhazel had the final two swordsmen charging at her when the howls pierced the air again. Massive shapes tore through the brush, flashing teeth and snarling as they leaped to intercept the attackers. The men were brought to the ground with shouts, pinned beneath the massive wolves.

Mariano didn't get a chance to see if they were spared. The opposing mage had started to close the distance with Jhazel, brilliant light shining at their palms. She was a powerful mage, but Mariano knew how strong of a spell that was going to be.

The man struggling with him knocked his sword from his hands, and Mariano only just managed to keep his balance and break away from his fight.

There was no time to think. She'd done so much. She'd been so kind. Mariano couldn't let her get hit.

He barely noticed the wolves sprinting towards the last two targets, he barely heard Bastian roaring as he smashed his third swordsman into the ground. All Mariano could see was the horrible shine intensifying and the tell-tale finger twitch of a cast being completed.

"No!"

In a flash, in an eternity, in silence, in cacophony, Mariano only just managed to get in front of Jhazel.

A cold more pervasive than even healing magic cracked through Mariano's body as the spell from that mage hit home. He couldn't even scream as it ripped straight through his leather armor and clothes without being buffered by any of it. It sank into his chest like the rush of an icy lake and latched its teeth into his lungs. He dropped to the grass, breathlessly curling into himself as his limbs locked up.

Two more wolves took down the mage and final swordsman. Quiet descended again. As quickly as it started, it was over.

The intense smell of forest magic eased. Hands that felt like they were on fire pressed to his neck. "Bastian, help me get him inside." Jhazel? That was her voice. She sounded focused. She sounded okay.

Bastian's worried voice sounded next, and larger, even warmer hands carefully lifted him up. "That was some awful spell--you have a cure or something?" He asked, and Mariano curled into his hold, voice stolen by how tense his throat felt.

Jhazel didn't answer, instead the clinking of her rummaging through cabinets filled the little cottage. "Toss some more firewood into the fireplace." She said. "There's no cure for cold magic like that, just like there are no cures for any burning that your fire causes. But we aren't helpless."

Water filled what Mariano dimly recognized as a kettle, and the smell of wood starting to catch filled the air around him. Mariano tried to open his eyes, catching the blurry shape of Bastian's hair sparkling around his face.

"Sit, Bastian, right there. That chair should get plenty warm when this fire gets going." Jhazel said, as calm and unflappable as ever. "We'll get some color back in him soon."

The gentle clank of the kettle being hung over the fire told Mariano that tea was probably getting made. Her footsteps left, as Bastian adjusted his hold on Mariano. His legs were draped over Bastians, and both of his dragon's arms looped around his waist. When a blanket was draped over Mariano and tucked in around him, Jhazel finally seemed to be satisfied.

She sat beside Bastian in her own chair, one hand reaching to tug the blanket more securely around Mariano's knees as silence fell. The crackle of fire and warmth slowly seeping back into Mariano's skin lulled him. He let his head fully rest against Bastian's shoulder, eyes drifting closed. Everything was still too tense, it was too painful to even think about moving more than absolutely necessary, but as the minutes wore on that began to ebb.

"That was...brave of you to do." Jhazel said, when she pulled the kettle from the fire and started pouring the tea into a mug. "Here, Bastian, help him drink." She said, and Mariano felt Bastian's arms shift. Warm, spiced tea was brought to his lips. As he sipped, it started to thaw out some of the ice that still seemed hell-bent on eating through his vocal cords.

He sighed when Bastian pulled the mug away, and one of Jhazel's hands patted his knee. "I would have been alright, if that magic had hit me." She spoke gently, as though she didn't want to discount what he'd done. "...Thank you, though, Mariano."

It was easier to look at Jhazel this time, even as his aching body protested the small smile he gave her. "...Always." He managed. "You kept...kept us safe before. Wanted to return the favor."

Jhazel laughed, so gently that Mariano almost thought he imagined it. "Next time," She said. "You can just get me some preserves from wherever you've been."