Saga walked out of the forest with everything she had misplaced. Her bow was in the bush where she'd stabbed the arachnid's leg. She found her arrows spread all over the forest floor. And she found her knife stuck in the arachnid. The corpse had started to smell by the time she was leaving. Sill did not lie, the arachnid smelled bad, like brain-melting, body-shaking, make-you-want-to-puke-your-guts bad.
And of course, her turkeys. She didn't forget those. Luckily, she'd found them under the tree just as she left them.
She halted at the edge of the cliff. Out here, she had an unimpeded view of the serenvale's sky. Fairy floss littered the blazing blue. This brightness brought a smile to her face, even though she disliked sunlight. She gazed down. Beautiful houses adorned the base of the bowl in neat rows.
Long ago, some navians left the ancient city of Rimegaar and the Kings of the Frost who ruled over them. They migrated all the way out here, to serenvale, the lush sun-blessed land of the chronali. As those navians built the town of havensol and settled down, they came to be known as the neo-navians, the people of serenvale. The neo-navians have been protecting the chronalis and the land of serenvale since then. Adding to the fact that it was a politically neutral zone, the town sat on one of the main traveling routes that passed through serenvale, bringing in plenty of visitors from realms far and wide all year round to keep the small businesses more than afloat.
Her eyes swept over the town with affection. She'd lived here all sixteen years of her life. Folks in this town were kind. They showered her and her twin with love and comfort. Always greeting them with smiling faces and asking how she was when they saw her on the streets. She was mature enough to understand that it wasn't just another town down there, but one great-big family where each thought of the other as their own. Her eyes fell on the shining center of the town.
A bust of a female chronali in her bare form rose from a tiny, circular garden of sunflowers. She held up a somewhat rectangular-shaped polished stone called the solstone. It shined bright in the day, but it also captured and stored sunlight, and used it to glow all night long. The radiance of the solstone was strange because it didn't hurt your eyes no matter how long you stared at it. No one knew what that stone was made of, but no navians ever wanted to steal the sacred solstone. She once heard someone say that the solstone was infused with misfortune-repellent magic. Nothing bad ever happened to the town, so it must be true!
Saga ambled down the switchback stairs carved into the wall of the bowl. That stranger kept reappearing in her mind's canvas. Her imaginative mind conjured an illustration of where that elf was from, a forest shrouded in mist, secrets of elven magic, and intrigues hiding under every leaf and blade of grass. But that chance encounter held a profound meaning for her, including the fact that she was rescued from certain death. It brought home the realization that she was just a little frog in a well. There was so much more to the world than her tiny town and the peace-loving people who called it home. Out there in the world, there were dragons who hurled inferno, capable of bringing calamity, mages who made dreams a reality, and hostile dungeons filled with more treasures than a tycoon possessed. All that she'd read in books and thought were make-believe stories had abruptly become burning facts when she saw the blue elf. What an unexpected thing to have happened to her!
She wondered what it'd be like to live in the elven forests. She wished to go there one day if she ever managed to learn magic and become strong enough to convince aunty Yrsa to go adventuring on her own. There was little chance of that, though, aunty being as stubborn as she was.
If Yrsa could have her way, she'd have Saga by her side at the healing station all day every day, helping her with the patients. The only reason she allowed Saga to go hunting in the woods was because she knew what hunting meant for Saga. It was Saga's way of being close to the parents she'd lost. And also, because Saga proved to be just as stubborn as her.
It was an old tradition from the Rimegaar days to contribute to the feast of remembrance on a death anniversary. It showed that you loved the lost ones. Saga wasn't much for tradition, but this one, she has been sticking by each year. Even though very few in the town did. The neo-navians had no time to go hunting in the woods looking for a tribute. A family member would put together a fest and that was that.
That's why Yrsa and Vor were really happy to see the effort Saga had put in every year. Being infertile, the two considered the twin their daughters.
Saga wore a wide grin as she hopped up the stairs to her family's double-storied cottage.
A feminine voice came from the kitchen. "Did my girl come home?"
Aunty Yrsa emerged into the living room with beaming eyes of icy-gray, the color of eyes that all the neo-navians shared. Resilience was evident in her adorable plump frame faced with a cute rose-printed apron. Her round face was flushed from the heat of the stove. She tied her long and wavy black hair up in a bun, which she usually kept free.
So adorable and cute, thought Saga, how could this woman be so stern and unreasonable sometimes? Even her uncle would dare not step on her tail then.
"Saga, for Narld's sake, what happened to you girl?" Yrsa burst at the sight of Saga's bloody appearance.
Saga chuckled nervously and plopped down the dead birds on the table. She saw trouble in the way aunty looked at her with terrible anxiety. Aunty could decide that Saga had enough of hunting for this year. She kicked herself in her mind.
I should've cleaned up before coming home. Sill made me forget myself.
To be saved from an eminent lockdown, she lied, "None of this blood is mine, aunty. The traps had nothing today. So, I got carried away hunting the turkeys. And they bled a lot!"
Saga forced a laugh.
"Alright," said Yrsa, frowning with deep suspicion, looking her up and down with a sharp gaze. "Thank you for this, sweetheart. You'd done a great job."
Saga smiled. Feeling happy. But the smile disappeared right away as aunty grabbed her hands, meeting her eyes.
Here it comes. Thought Saga joylessly.
"But I wish I didn't have to see you go into that forest, Saga. How will I tell my sister that I traded the life of her precious daughter for turkeys?"
Saga swallowed. She froze whenever aunty acted like this, talked like this. She could only lower her head and stare at the dead birds gaping at her from the table.
What could she do? Tell her aunty that the forest was safe? Everyone knew it wasn't. Then, tell her aunty to shut up? She couldn't bring herself to do that. How do you talk back to a person who shows concern for you from a place of genuine care?
Yrsa cusped Saga's face and kissed her hair. "You must be starving, aren't you? Go clean up. I'm making breakfa-" She turned pale. "Oh no! I left it alone! It's going to get burned-"
Her voice trailed off as she dove back into the kitchen.
Saga shook her head. As she unhooked her quiver belt, she saw Siren coming out of her room on the east side of the first floor. She was in her exercise bra and shorts. Muscles squirmed beneath her tanned skin glistening with sweat as if she were a wet bag full of snakes. She always warmed up in the mornings for her sword lessons. She was tall, built like the statues of those old navian warrior queens. Saga barely came up to her shoulder.
While Saga got her mother's looks, Siren had inherited her father's. Beneath her short blond hair were eyes the color of gold. Her oval face projected calm strength. The way her body moved reminded Saga of the lynx, prowling, out looking for food.
In many ways, Siren resembled a true descendant. Especially of the ancient navian king Wahrmar. He was a blond with golden eyes, and only his direct descendants were born with those special traits. Not to mention the strength of will and body. Sometimes, Saga found it hard to believe that she was in any way related to Siren, let alone the fact that they were twins.
Siren paused, noticing the dead birds.
"What the fuck are those?"
"Wild Turkeys," replied Saga cautiously.
Siren came to the other side of the table and studied the kills. "Pff! Looks like they killed themselves out of pity watching you crying over empty snares." She gazed up at Saga. "I don't blame them. You are a pitiful little creature, after all, oh dear little sister of mine."
Saga immediately snapped, and flared, "I'll have you know that I've shot all three of them at once! I'm a master archer. And you better respect it, you swordbrain!"
Siren snorted. "Oh please, you couldn't shoot a tree to save your life. And it's planted on the ground."
Saga inhaled sharply. Through pressed teeth, she said, "How about you plant yourself on the ground? Let's test if I can hit you, shall we?"
Siren's eyes narrowed.
"Stop it you two!" bellowed Yrsa from the kitchen. "Saga! I thought I told you to go clean up! What are you still doing there?"
Saga shook her fists in protest. "But aunty! Siren started it-"
"I don't wanna hear it!" barked Yrsa. "Just do as I told you!"
Saga threw a fiery glare at Siren's grinning face, then stormed up the stairs to her room.