"Now, Ms. Pryde, your father may allow for you to talk and walk around like a man but that is not allowed inside of my store."
I barely give her the time of day, too enamored with the satin dress that sits beautifully on the mannequin before me. It was the color that drew me in, a light blue that sparkles in the light— I realize it's because of the gemstones stitched into the fabric— and it's the fabric texture that keeps me there. I couldn't help but to touch and feel it, letting the fabric slip and slide on the palm of my hand. It's not the first time that I've touched satin but no matter what, it always amazes me. Though, I know that I can't continue ignoring the other woman, especially as she glares down at me with such venomous eyes that I'm afraid that it'll kill me if I continue standing here. "Oh, come on, Mrs. Bean—" I hold back a giggle. Her surname being "Bean" always makes me want to giggle. "— I'm not doing any harm! And I do not walk or talk like a man, I walk and talk like Sorren Pryde."
"Yes, Sorren Pryde who walks and talks like a man." Mrs. Bean huffs and shakes her head, grey ringlets shaking in the process. "Why don't you finally a buy a dress from me? You're a beautiful young woman, a dress will highlight said beauty. I'll even give you a discount, how does that sound!"
It must be said that I, Sorren Pryde, do not walk and talk like a man. I'm just as prim and proper as any other lady who lives in my small village. The only difference between me and them is that I wear pants and occasionally walk with my hands stuffed deep into my pockets and sometimes with a slight slouch. Two, I do own and sometimes wear dresses, just not as often as Mrs. Bean would like. She believes that at my age, I should be wearing dresses and gowns often, beautiful attire that will attract a man to come to my need and whisk me away That's what Mrs. Bean wants for me, she wants to see me married off to some man, any man who can tolerate me, Sorren Pryde, a woman who "walks and talks like a man".
"It depends," I say, still touching the blue satin dress. "If it's this dress, I might consider buying one of your lovely gowns."
She frowns. "That dress? Now what for? You have nowhere to wear it to!"
"You don't know that!"
"I do know that, Ms. Pryde! That's a dress for a ball, not something you can wear to a bar or friendly gathering. It's much too nice for the things you plan to do."
In this instance, Mrs. Bean is not wrong. The dress is beautiful, too beautiful to even be worn by me. And too beautiful to be worn in a small village like this. It's not like any grand and amazing parties are held here. The only parties that occur here are birthday parities for the children and little celebration that happens at the local bar. That's it. Nothing more than that. We don't even have festivals here! If we want to attend a festival, we would have to walk to the town that's twenty minutes away. While not far from us, it shows how small it is here.
"Then I don't want any of your dresses if it's not this one," I say, frowning. I'm upset. It's a beautiful dress and I do love looking and touching it. Though, I'm not sure if I'm upset because I'm unable to own it or because I won't be able to touch it anymore. "What inspired you to make this in the first place?"
Mrs. Bean shrugs, moving closer to look at the blue satin dress herself. "I wanted to create something that would make a woman look beautiful and stand out from the rest. Something that a noblewoman would wear, or even a princess."
I find what she says to be silly but I dare not to say it. Not with the look in her eyes, the way they twinkle in the light, shining brightly like the gemstones stitched into the material. Instead, I decide to amuse her. "It does look like something a princess would wear. Maybe you can send it to the castle and see if the crown princess will wear it."
The twinkle is gone, it instantly disappears as she glances at me from the corner of her eyes. "The crown princess? Don't make me laugh, child!" Mrs. Bean says. "The crown princess would never wear something as simple and boring as this." She pauses, her head titling to the side as she looks at the dress again. "Though, it would be nice to imagine her in it. I'm sure she would make something as drab as this look absolutely amazing."
It's funny almost how Mrs. Bean went from calling the dress "beautiful" and "something a princess would wear" to "boring" and "drab" at the mentioning of the crown princess. "Have you seen the crown princess before?"
"Once," Mrs. Bean says. "Back when she was a child and her marriage with the crown prince was first announced. Back then, she was a small thing, no more than nine. When I saw her, it was only for a quick second before my view was blocked."
I hum. I've never seen the crown princess, honestly, I've never seen any of the royal family. The capital is far from where we are, it would take nearly three days just to get there and another three days to get back. None of us have the means, or desire, to take that trip. The only reason why Mrs. Bean did was because of the announcement and crowning of the crown princess, that was it. If an event is held in the capital or the royal family is announcing some big news, we all just sit here and wait for the news to get to us. And it usually gets here a week or two after it happens. A little annoying if you asked me.
"I'm sure she's beautiful." She has to be, she's the crown princess after all.
"Of course she is! She has to be if she's marrying the crown prince." It's then that Mrs. Bean's eyes twinkle with mischief. Oh no. "You know, you're getting awfully old, Sorren—"
"I'm only twenty-eight—"
"— It's time for you to consider marriage!"
Outside of Mrs. Bean referring to my few mannerisms as masculine, I hate talking to her about this one topic: marriage. With there being nothing to do, the townspeople love to gossip, especially the women when it comes to love. Whether it's about someone getting married, or a young girl kissing some boy behind a tree, or even someone's divorce; they love to talk. And unfortunately, I'm not exempt from their talk of love despite my lack of desire for it. Or at least, with any man here.
"Mrs. Bean, I told you that I'm not ready—"
"Yes, yes, you're not ready for marriage but when will you ever be? I feel as though you're just saying that to avoid the whole topic."
I frown, ready to fight back but she doesn't let me get a word in. "I have a friend in the next town over who has a son about your age. He's a handsome young man, I know for sure, I've seen him in person a few times and even he makes me swoon," she says. "He's also a family man, has a fantastic relationship with both his parents and helps with taking care of his younger siblings. And he works in the capital and has a nice paying job. He's perfect for you."
"You don't know that," I say, finally. "He sounds perfect but there's no guarantee that we'll be perfect together or if he's even my type."
Now it's Mrs. Bean who frowns and becomes frustrated. "Okay then, pray tell what is your type, Sorren Pryde?"
Women.
"I'm not sure but that doesn't matter because I'm not interested in looking for anyone or anything right now." I take a few steps back, ready to escape from this conversation but not ready to leave behind the beautiful dress. "I have to leave. I promised to go hunting for my father."
"We're not done with this conversation, Sorren! Next time, we will talk about—"
I'm already out the door before she can finish the sentence, I even shut it behind me just to make sure I don't hear her. I know that Mrs. Bean means well, she's not a terrible or horrible woman, she just wants what's best for me and my future. I understand that. However… I don't want to be married off to some man who everyone deems to be "perfect" for me. Especially when I don't want a relationship with a man. Ever.
I wish to be with a woman. One who's smile rivals the intensity of the sun, who's eyes are stars in disguise, who's laugh is a sweet melody created by the most talented violinist. I wish to be with a woman who makes me feel safe and warm whenever I'm within arm length of her. I wish to be with a woman who gently kisses my forehead and dresses my wounds after I get hurt during a hunting expedition. I wish to be with a woman who loves and understands me. That's what I want.
Though, even then, I'm not sure if I'm ready to marry a woman. I wasn't lying to Mrs. Bean, I'm not ready to get married. I'm very much fine with my current lifestyle, of not having to worry about another person or attempt to impress anyone. I enjoy coming home late from being out in the woods or being at the local bar, I enjoy sleeping in and having time to myself. I enjoy being alone and I plan on keeping it that way until I'm ready to settle down.
If I ever do.
Taking a deep breath, I move away from Mrs. Bean's store door and make my way down the street. It's still the middle of the day and a lot of people are out. Children who run around, chasing each other with sticks and rocks. Older girls and boys who sit in their little groups, gossiping and talking as if they're adults, pointing at different people and speaking of them in a hushed whisper. Then there's the adults who are all busy at work, minding their stores, purchasing and exchanging goods, or just standing to the side talking. It's a normal day here in the village, a normal day that I've witnessed over and over for twenty-eight years straight.
"Sorren!" Shouts a family squeaky voice. I stop in my path and look to my left, a smile slowly forming on my face. Coming my way are three children, all different heights and ages, but who all three share the same twinkle in their eyes. The one leading the trio stops first, the other two following in his lead. "Are you off to the forest? Can we come with?"
I smile down at them. "Not this time, I only came to purchase a few items," I say. "And even if I was going to the forest, the three of you shouldn't come with me. It's dangerous, you could get hurt."
The first child, Louis, puffs out his cheeks and puts his hands on his hips. "No it's not! There's nothing dangerous in the woods," he says. "There are only deers and squirrels, those aren't dangerous."
"You only know of deer and squirrels that live there," I say. "But what about the animals and creatures that are hiding and waiting to jump on you when you're not paying attention?"
"I'll be fine because you'll be there to protect me! You're the greatest hunter in town, you'll make sure to keep us safe."
Well, I can't deny that. The children are right. I am the greatest hunter in town, though, there's not much to compete with when there are only four of us in total, and the other three are older men who have been doing this longer than I've been alive. And even then, they're getting older which results in them being slower than usual and only able to do so much with becoming tired or their bodies beginning to ache in pain. So, by default, I'm the greatest hunter in town.
"Even so, it's still not safe and your parents won't allow it." I gently and awkwardly pet his head. "Just stay there and run around in the town, where it's safe. I don't need a child trying to follow behind me while I hunt."
"But we'll be good, we promise. Right guys?" He looks behind him at the other two children who always tag along with him. Niya, a very shy girl with light pink hair and a stutter that the whole town has grown used to. And Vaughn, the mute child who communicates through paper, pen, and sometimes hand motions. No matter Louis' craze ideas, the two always stuck beside him and did whatever he suggested.
Vaughn nods and Niya squeaks out a reply. "Y-yes, we'll be g-good," she says. "W-we want to see you s-shoot down a hawk and a w-wolf."
"Yeah, a hawk and a wolf!" Shouts Louis.
Vaughn nods his head and holds up his notebook, a picture of a wolf and a person with a bow and arrow pointing at the animal. "Is that supposed to be me?" He nods. "Impressive." Not impressive at all. The drawing is so lackluster and kiddish that I almost giggle because of it. But the wolf is impressive. Vaughn doesn't have the talent for drawing people but he does have the talent for drawing animals.
"So, can we come?"
The three of them look up at me with those big, pleading, and angelic eyes. Had I been anyone else, I would've easily given up. While annoying, the trio are extremely adorable. From their round faces to their squeaky voices, they're just too precious. But I've known these three since they were born, I know them better than they know themselves. I'm immune to their charm and won't easily fall for such adorable expressions. "The answer is still no," I say. "And that's final." They deflate, practically sinking into the ground. "But… I can do this. When I go out, I'll try to shoot down a hawk for you guys." Both Niya and Louis shriek in glee. "Unfortunately , I won't be able to hunt a wolf. None live in the forest. Sorry, Vaughn." Vaughn frowns for a split second before shrugging. He's fine, it's fine, it better be fine. It wouldn't be good for anyone if I was able to encounter a wolf, that would be dangerous for anyone going to the forest for anything. "I'll bring it tomorrow after I'm done hunting, okay?"
"Okay!"
"Good, now go on. I have to head back home."
"Bye, Sorren!"
"Y-yes, bye!"
Vaughn waves goodbye and the three of them run off together. I watch them run off with a gentle smile before I start my journey back home.
Most of the villagers all live near each other. The houses are spread out far enough that it doesn't feel compact but close enough where going from house to house isn't an entire journey. Each person has enough distance and space to live and breathe how they please. As for my house, well, that's a different story. Getting there itself is a journey but it's a journey that I enjoy. My house sits just outside the village, sitting in between the forest and the small village we call home. We don't have a neighbor, or at least a human one, instead the occasional critter that makes it into our little area. We're the first home travelers see before they enter our village. Sometimes, people knock on the door to ask for directions. Sometimes, I answer. Most of the time, my father does. He's a true gentleman if you ask me.
By the time I make it to my house, the sun is still high in the sky, though, I know that night will be upon us soon. My house is decent size home that looks no different from the houses in the village. With its off white walls and dark brown roof, it prepares travelers for what they're going to see heading into the village. There's a small flowerbed that sits to the right of the front door and another flowerbed just behind the house. To the left is a small stable that is home to a horse named Vienne, a beautiful black horse that used to frighten me as a child but now only amuses me as an adult. Vienne doesn't even spare me a single glance, she eats away at the grass and feels the breeze on her mane. "Hello to you too, Vienne," I say, heading straight for the door and opening it.
Now, while all the houses may look the exact same, the insides are all different. My house is homey, of course so, it's my home. There are painted canvases that cover almost every inch of the walls. A short sofa that sits to the right, directly across from the fireplace that is out during the summers. A wooden table sits to the left, three wooden chairs that surround it and a vase filled with beautiful green, pink, and red flowers that sit on top of the table. The kitchen is just steps away from the wooden table and seats, storage, pantry, stove, and a wooden counter space that is the same dark color as the table and seats. There are two doors, one on the right that is left open— the bathroom— and another door on the left— my father's bedroom that he always keeps close.
Just as I'm closing the front door, my father's door opens and a bundle of fur rushes me, knocking me to the ground with a THUD. "Anzu," I say, pushing the grey dog off of me. "Get off of me! I'm not in the mood to be covered in dog slobber and fur."
"Sorren." Comes a voice. "Welcome home!"
Standing just a few feet away is my father, a man in his late forties with a greying beard and hair that is a combination of dark brown and grey. In my opinion, the grey matches perfectly with his brown skin, it makes me sigh in relief that when I'm starting to grey, I'll also look just as handsome as him. He keeps his hair short and evenly trimmed, though, I can see now that he's in need of a cut! Perhaps I can take some time in a few days to do it for him. He always tells me that he loves his haircut but I'm never sure if I trust a man who can't even see said hair. "I don't have to see anything," he used to say. Still says. "I know that it looks wonderful because you, my child, are wonderful and talented. I trust you."
"Thank you," I say, finally pushing Anzu off and standing to my feet. The dog still tries to jump on me but I stay grounded to ensure that he doesn't knock me over again. "I got the items you asked for." I place the bags of items on the wooden table, Anzu follows and tries to sniff at what I brought. "Everything's there, I promise."
My father smiles. "I trust you." I know, he says it all the time. Even when I'm not being trustworthy, my father will always trust and believe me. I'm so lucky to have him as a father. "Did you get anything for yourself?"
I immediately thought of that beautiful blue dress at Mrs. Bean's shop. It's still on my mind even now, it'll forever be on my mind. Even when another woman buys it or even when I buy a different dress, I'll forever think about that beautiful light blue satin dress and the gemstones stitched into the fabric. "No," I say. "I didn't want anything."
"Oh." He doesn't question me, he never does. Even if I'm to lie and he knows it's a lie, my father would never question or chide me, he would just leave it be. Most of the time, I appreciate it, other times, I wished that he would push me to speak and be honest. Here, I'm happy that he left it alone, makes it easier for me to forget about the dress. "Well, that's fine. Why don't you go upstairs and rest for a bit? Just until dinner is ready."
"Okay."
I don't need to rest, I'm completely fine, very energized, very ready to go and do more but still do as he says. It's one of the few days where I have nothing planned or orders to do, so I try to enjoy the little free time that I get. Since today has been so chill, that just means that tomorrow will be hectic, God, I can only imagine it. "If you need me, just call me."
"Of course."
I walk towards the bathroom and stop just a few feet away from the door. Hanging from the ceiling is a rope that I grab hold of. With a little tug, a trap door opens and a ladder drops down. With ease, I climb up the ladder, just as I've been doing for twenty years now. Once at the top of the ladder, I'm met with the familiar sight of my room. Just like the rest of our house, it's wood everywhere, from the ceiling to the floor, it's all wood, just with some personal traits that make it more… me. A rug made from bearskin covers a portion of the floor, a bed that's pushed to the side with blankets that sit in a pile (I'm always too lazy to make up my bed in the mornings), clothes that are scattered across the floor, books that sit open on a table and some near the window, and a bookshelf that only has four books sitting on it and a few arrows that I've carved myself. Okay, so my room is a mess and that's my biggest personal trait but I truly do not care. It's not like anyone outside of myself comes up here and my father can't see the mess so what's the point of cleaning it? Besides, it's not like the whole room is a mess, just 90% of it, there is one section of the room that I always keep clean.
And it's the section right in front of my window.
It's the only window in the entire room, a circular window that sits in the front of the house. Whenever the sun comes up, the light shines through the window and perfectly hits my bed, thus waking me when it's the start of the new day. It's also the place that I sit at whenever I need to recharge and relax. A red blanket sits on the floor alongside various cushions, a journal, pencil, lantern, and a stuffed lizard. The only stuffed animal and toy that I still own. A gift. From my mother, the only tangible gift that I ever received from her. This area was our area before she passed away. It was by this window and on this blanket where she would read to me or tell me stories about her childhood. I remember always looking up at her and into her deep crimson eyes with admiration, it was under the sun that she shined so brightly. Like a beautiful gem that was being held up to the light.
Even after she passed away, I still kept the area the same. Never changing the blanket, the journal, pencil, cushions, or stuffed lizard. It's been fourteen years and I still can't change it. I'm afraid that I do then the memory of my mother will be forever lost. And I cannot lose the memory of her. I cannot bring myself to lose my mother.
Not for a second time.
. . .
It was the death of my mother that made me remember my past life as Ivy Martin. The day I was told of her death, it felt as though I was struck with lightning. A sharp pain ran throughout my body, a tingling sensation that left me paralyzed and unable to move. I passed out from the pain.
"Ivy Martin" lost her mother at the age of fourteen, the older woman dying from a car crash. Me as Sorren Pryde, I lost my mother at the age of fourteen due to a strange beast attack. No one knows the details of what killed my mother, we just know that it was strong enough to kill a magic user. I wasn't allowed to see her body, none of the villagers wanted a young girl to see her mother in such a state. I was told that it was too gruesome for anyone to see, even my own father wasn't given any details about what she looked like in the end. It's now that I'm grateful for their lack of details, at least I can remember my mother in her beauty and glory.
The shock of losing a mother twice and at the same age jogged my memory. All of my memories from my previous life began to flood back into me at lightning speed. Every good memory that I had with my younger sister Iris, our mother, and my former best friend, it all came back to me. But that also meant that every bad memory flooded back in. I recalled my first ever heartbreak, getting rejected from my dream school, not getting the job that I wanted, and even the day that I died as Ivy Martin.
My death was the biggest shock of it all. I was reminded that I risked my life to protect Iris, though, there was no guarantee to prove that I actually protected her. What if he had went back and attacked her? Or maybe he was following her around like he did nothing wrong? Hopefully the police were able to capture and lock him up. But even then, Iris was all alone. She no longer had me or our mother in her life, now she was to roam the world without love or protection from the two women who did everything they could to protect her.
Ivy Martin was dead but she died a hero. A hero that was reborn as Sorren Pryde, a magic user in a world filled with magical beasts, royalty, knights, kingdoms, and endless wars. As Sorren Pryde, I was born as the daughter of a researcher and a former knight turned hunter. Now, following in my mother's path, I've become a hunter as well, providing for our family now that my mother was no longer here. If she was still alive, I'm sure she would appreciate my new duty and responsibility.
In my previous life, I could never imagine doing something like this. Using a bow and arrow, walking in the forest for hours, hunting for animals so I can sell the meat and fur to whoever wanted it. Insanity! But it fits me perfectly as Sorren Pryde.
As Sorren Pryde, I'm different, of course. I fear nothing, I walk with an air of confidence, I have lots of friends, a father who loves me, a community who wishes to protect me, and unfortunately, no sister at my side. I'm loved as Sorren Pryde, loved in a way that I'm not used to. A way that I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to. How can I enjoy this love when I don't have a sister to share the news with or a best friend to gush about it with? I have things that I've always wanted but I wished that it came with the love that I had as "Ivy Martin".
Couldn't whatever God gave me a second chance give me that? Or would that be asking for too much? I wonder.
While I may not be Ivy Martin in this lifetime, she'll forever live with me. She is me and I am her. That will never change.
. . .
"Sorren! Dinner is ready!"
I open my eyes, I hadn't even realized that I had them close. Or that the sun had gone down. Perhaps I was tired and just didn't realize it. Shaking away the grogginess from my nap, I stand to my feet and head down the ladder.
The house is filled with a wonderful aroma, my father's stew that he tries to make at least once a month. Despite the warmer weather outside, I'm happy to have stew tonight, it's one of my favorite dishes. It was also my mother's favorite dish to make with my father. Before the two met, my mother told me that she didn't know how to cook anything, that it was my father who taught her everything. At the time, she thought it was strange to learn how to cook from a blind man, she almost didn't believe that he could cook or do anything. But her own prejudice was proven wrong as my father navigated through his kitchen with ease and made the most delicious meal that my mother ever had in her entire life. "It was magical," my mother said. "Watching your father move. He couldn't see anything but that never stopped him from cooking, or doing anything really. Your father… is a magical man, more magical than I am."
The more I watch him, the more I understand what she means.
My father places two bowls on the table, both across from each other, and a bowl on the floor for Anzu. I wait for my father to sit down first before I do the same. "Thank you for the food," I say, picking up my spoon and plunging it into the stew. My stomach growls loudly, embarrassment filling me instantly. Wasn't aware of how tired and hungry I am, goodness! I take a bite of the stew, swoon, and take another. I appreciate the fact that it's only my father in here with me, I wouldn't want anyone to see me gobbling down my food as if I'm a dog. Though, I'm sure Anzu has better manners than I do.
"Is it good?"
"It's amazing," I say in between bites. "Your food is always amazing. I still think you should open a restaurant instead of researching animals."
He smiles. "I appreciate the compliment but you know that no kitchen wants a man like me working there, not unless I possess magic. Besides, I enjoy my current job."
"Yeah but what's there to research out here?" I ask. "You have already researched all the magical creatures and animals that live in this forest, there's nothing else for you to look at." I pause, preparing myself for what I'm to say next. "Maybe… we should discuss moving elsewhere."
"Sorren…"
"Father, please listen! It's time for us to leave this village and go elsewhere, a place where you can research more animals and not the same ones every single day. Perhaps a village near the ocean! I'm sure there's lots of aquatic animals and creatures that have yet to be discovered, you could be the first to find them! Or even the mountains, oh, that would be lovely. I've always wanted to live on a hi—"
"Sorren Pryde, that is enough!"
His voice booms and rumbles like thunder during a terrible storm. I drop my spoon and even Anzu stops eating, I'm sure that even Vienne heard him from outside. My father is frowning, his head tilted down at his stew and his spoon shaking violently in his hand. "I've told you before and I'll tell you again: we are not moving. Even if someone was to hire me and offer me a job elsewhere, I'll decline it and stay here. Do you understand me?"
I do not. "But why?" I question, my own voice rising. "Why would you stay in a place like this when you can find better elsewhere?"
"Because I don't want to."
"That's not a real answer! Give me a real answer."
"Sorren." He sighs, dropping his spoon to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Let's not talk about this—"
"No, we are going to talk about this. You cannot treat me as if I'm child and avoid answering my questions. I'm an adult, I deserve to know the truth. Even if I don't like it."
"Fine, you want to know the truth and for me to stop treating you like as if you're child? Then I'll tell you." His face has gone dark and even without him looking at me, I can feel the weight that his stare would've hold. "We're not moving because I don't want to move. I have no desire of moving from the home that I built with your mother. If I leave this place then I would be leaving her. What kind of husband would I be if I were to leave my wife?"
I don't know what to say. Honestly, I had been expecting an answer like that, that his reasoning had to do with my mother, but it still hurt to hear him say it. I've always known that my father loved, no, loves my mother. That the bound the two of have is a special one that can never be recreated by anyone. It's just… I never knew how strong said bond was until now. That it's because of my father's love for the deceased woman that keeps him tied to this house and village. Over thirty years of memories live here, of course he's unable to leave it behind. Not even for his own daughter.
"I see." Standing up, I pick up my bowl, unable to look at my father. "Well then. I guess I'm done here."
"Where are you going?"
"To eat in my room," I say. "I wish to be alone for the rest of the night, I hope you do not mind."
"Sorren…"
"Goodnight, father," I say. "Enjoy dinner with… mother." It's a petty and unnecessary thing to say but I'm unable to stop the words from falling out of my mouth. It's too late now. It's already been said. Without another word from either of us, I make my way to my ladder and climb up to my room.
My father doesn't bother all night. He just blows out the candle an hour later, the entire first floor going dark, leaving me alone with my own pettiness and the ghost of my mother.