Way of Tyrants and Snakes

II | Pendant

     "Hi, Elys! Happy twentieth birthday." Ievis, the village butcher, smiled as she entered through the back door of his shop. Lyrael didn't even blink when he used her middle name. Hauled on a wooden sled, was a drained, gutted and skinned buck, ready to be sold to Ievis.
     Growing up in their humble cottage, Anwel instilled in her the importance of concealing her first name. Whenever they were outside the four walls of their cottage, she became Elysande—or Elys for short—and it was a name that held deep significance for her. Not only was it her middle name, but it was also the name she shared with her late mother.
     Even if they were out in the woods hunting, Anwel only ever called her Elys, which he always claimed was for her 'protection'. However, she never quite understood why she had to hide her first name or what exactly she needed protecting from. But, as always, she was an obedient child, who always listened to her father.
     With the help of Ievis, she hauled the buck up and onto his scale. "You scored a big one today, Elys."
     Lyrael smiled and nodded, clasping her hands behind her back as she waited for him to collect her payment. She watched him balance his scale with different size weights. "Yeah, I got lucky with him, honestly."
     Ievis smiled and went to where he kept his safe, returning a moment later with her payment, which was calculated on the weight of the buck. She and Anwel were one of the few hunters in the area and one of the main suppliers for meat for the village.
     "Here, a gift as well." Ievis held out a pouch of coins as well as two familiar-looking packs of his specially made venison jerky. "Happy birthday, again."
     "Oh, thank you so much, Ievis! It means a lot." Lyrael beamed and accepted the pouch and the jerky, tucking them into her bag.
     She grabbed the rope that she used to drag the sled and exited his shop, heading toward the tanner's shop to sell the buck's hide. Hides were a coveted item, as the other hunters in the area were not as precise as she, and only her hides were usable by the village tanner and he paid her a handsome amount of coins for.
     "Papa, I'm home!" She exclaimed, swinging open the front door of the cottage ten minutes later. Removing her bow, she placed it next to the front door while her leather rucksack landed on the kitchen counter. Strapped to the right side of the rucksack was a thick bedroll, and on the left side was her quiver full of arrows.
     Opening the flap on top of her bag, she undid the drawstring holding it closed and began pulling its contents out. A bag of apples, cheese, crackers, carrots, celery and potatoes, a small slab of meat, and the two packs of Ievis' venison jerky. She had plans of dicing everything up and making a stew this evening, Anwel's favorite.
     "Papa?" she called again, looking up at the small loft where his bed was located.
     No response.
     She glanced out the window and a wave of relief washed over her when the door to the smoke shed swung open, Anwel stepping out of it. She pushed off the odd feeling she felt and smiled at him when he entered the house a minute later.
     "Oh, you're back already?" Anwel seemed surprised as he fiddled with his cloak. For some reason, she felt like he seemed a tad nervous, his eyes darting back and forth. "I thought you'd shop around the market for a bit. I didn't expect you to be home so soon."
     "Yeah, I was going to, but when I after I sold the hide, I decided to just come home so I could start on dinner." Lyrael beamed and began filling up a large pot with some water. She hung it on the pot that hung over the fire that was barely embers. "I'm making your favorite."
     "Stew?" He inquired, and she nodded, which made him smile widely.
     She added some wood to the fire and stirred the embers around with the metal poker on the wall, waiting until some of the wood caught fire before standing. She moved back to the table and began dicing up the vegetables and slab of meat.
     He paced a bit in front of her, glancing toward the front door and then up to his loft. She eyed him with concern. "Are you okay, Papa?"
     His gaze snapped toward her, and he just smiled again, nodding quickly. "Yeah, of course, sweetheart. I'm fine. I'm just gonna... go up to my loft for a minute."
     "Okay," she responded and watched as he climbed the ladder and disappeared into his loft, hearing him rustle around a moment later. Brushing it off, she focused on dicing vegetables to make a stock.