I remember myself as someone who never turned twice to see what was happening around her, not because I was oblivious to it but because I didn't feel the need. Most people talked about me in the same way they talked about the chief's wife. The only difference was that she always had a smile on her face, her eyes shining brighter than the sun above us, and she was truly oblivious. Some children came running and didn't see her, colliding with her. "Oops!" she exclaimed and then laughed, helping the children stand up. She dusted off the little girl's skirt, who sheepishly apologized to her, and the chief's lady's hood fell off as she ruffled a little boy's hair. The little boy blushed in response, and she playfully shooed them away.
Everyone looked at her as if enchanted, except for Elder Hilda, who didn't try to hide her disinterest. We walked silently for a while, with no particular destination in mind.
"Are you alright, Elder Hilda?" I asked.
"Oh, of course, my dear," she replied with a forced smile.
My time with Elder Hilda was pleasant enough until the talk of the chief's wife came up. As an outsider, I felt it was inappropriate to ask about her personal life or feelings. It shouldn't concern me. But between my ripped mind and instinct, my own curiosity compelled me. So when Elder Hilda suggested that I have evening tea with her, I agreed.
A purple flower vine was growing against the hut, and something about the purple flowers triggered a memory. There was something I should remember, but nothing came to the surface.
Elder Hilda's home had nothing but two chambers. One was where we sat with a table and two chairs for tea, and the other chamber, which I understood to be the kitchen, was where she brought the teapot from. Her house reminded me of Xen's study, or rather, his parents' study. The shelves were filled with books, and there was another working platform with jars of herbs and potions neatly arranged. A curtain divided the room, and behind it, one could see a loft for sleeping.
"I know it's nowhere near what you're used to seeing, but it's mine," Elder Hilda said.
"No, it's fine," I replied, although I should have offered her more. She didn't look embarrassed or sheepish; she just looked at me. However, her eyes lacked the warmth she usually had with her patients. I glanced around again, realizing that this place looked so lonely. There was nothing personal besides books, herbs, and a few candles. Even Elder Hilda herself didn't wear anything that stood out, not even for a healer and villager.
"Do you live alone?" I asked.
"Yes, who would I live with?" she replied.
She seemed to be a little older than the chief, in her fiftieth year. She smiled as she poured me a cup of tea. I looked back at the books, and my heart ached. We had only been apart for a few hours, but I already missed Xen.
"Do you read?" I asked.
"Not really, but may I?" she replied.
I asked, and she nodded. "Be careful. It's still an unknown place." Xen's warning before I left started to tug at my mind. I reached out to touch the books, but my hand went to my waist instead. I felt a sudden unease at that moment. I hadn't considered it wise to have a sword while visiting her patients, but in her house, I oddly felt like I should have.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and a sense of unease prickled down my spine once again. I swiftly turned to see Elder Hilda picking some leaves that were growing out of a jar. Elder Hilda turned to me with a smile, her eyes warmer than a few moments ago.
Maybe I was thinking too much.
"Did I startle you?" she asked politely.
"No," I replied.
"These herbs need to see the sun. Do you mind if I step out for a moment?" She asked, holding the little ceramic jar.
"Certainly," I responded.
She walked out, cradling the jar as if taking care of a child. Right, I was thinking too much. I turned back to the bookshelves, and a word caught my attention. A leather-bound book with golden letters: "Fairies: The History of Immora Island." I blinked. For a moment, it felt surreal to see it there. I hadn't expected this.
Elder Hilda entered once again, and she must have seen the book in my hand because she answered my unspoken question.
"This is no ordinary land. No matter how much we try to hide the facts from the locals, I like to keep myself informed," she said.
It was only wise to do so, really. Why hadn't I tried it?
*"Because you know you're not going to stay here for long, avoid unnecessary attachments,"* the dry, old, tired voice that sounded like mine said from the back of my mind, and I shuddered.
I suppressed the voice in my mind and asked Elder Hilda if I could take the book with me. She agreed. We also agreed to meet for morning tea, and perhaps we could venture further into the market.
I looked down at the book, lost in thought, as I reached the guest house. I went upstairs to our chambers. My mind drifted for a moment, wondering where Xen might be. Suddenly, I felt too tired to move. As I reached for the door and opened it, I closed it behind me. Dragging my legs, I sat on the bed, putting the book aside.
A strange feeling began to prickle the back of my neck. I shuddered, feeling a cold sweep over me. Three full moons I have; one had passed, and the second one wasn't far away. I felt split in half. I had been numb to so many things, including people's feelings, but now my heart was wide open and vulnerable. What could I do? What would it be? My sanity or losing myself forever.