Nameless Thoughts of an Onlooker

6

"Hey...how're you still alive?" 

The boy tucked his chin, his brows twisted into a frown as he stubbornly avoided my gaze. His expression didn't stay static, twitching and wincing whenever Hebe touched one of his many, many wounds. 

"Why should I die?" He finally croaked out. 

"Shouldn't you be ready to die whenever you decide to defend something? A street kid like you should know that concept."

"That blacksmith-," his words cut off into a low groan, Hebe throwing him an apologetic glance as she tended to his contorted arm, "-that blacksmith was gonna kill it! He...I...I saved the dog, didn't I?!"

I shrugged, leaning back into the wooden chair by the bed.

"Sure you did. The blacksmith vented his anger on you instead, but you saved the dog. With your limbs so messed up, I don't see how you could work as anything in the future. I guess you really did resolve yourself to die."

Hebe began to say something, but her voice was overwhelmed by the kid's emphatic shout. 

"Just wait! Just wait and see! I'll get even with him eventually!" 

"'Getting even' isn't something a weak person does to the strong."

I hissed, a sharp pull at my ear jerking my head to the side. 

"Why is a bystander like you talking? You didn't even do anything! I had to step in! Couldn't you say a few words less?" The woman's discontented tone was obvious as she stood up, a hand on her hip. 

"I can't," I scowled, my glare flitting between the frustrating brunette and the ridiculous boy, "He should be thanking me, actually - his life or death doesn't matter to me, but here I am, forcing him to hear reason. It wouldn't do well for him to end up like you." 

"If you don't like her, why did you marry her?" 

Heat welled through me, causing me to leap up from my seat to sputteringly point an accusatory finger into the shitty boy's smirking face. 

"You-! I didn't marry her! She's not my wife!" 

Confusion crossed his countenance. 

"She's not? But I saw you two-?" 

A hand clamped his mouth shut in a flash, muffling his words. Hebe smiled down at him, her eyes rising into crescents; after so long, I knew that those crescents were most definitely a warning. 

"Good people mind other's privacy." 

The boy's wide eyes stared up at her, only nodding after a few moments had passed. 

"Good." The woman removed her hand, standing straight once more. "You can slowly recover here without worry for some time. We'll take care of you." 

I sighed heavily, ignoring the boy's happy surprise and Hebe's repeated confirmations. It didn't take long for me to grab the woman's hand, my eyes narrowing at her look of questioning as I stubbornly led her out of the house and into the small garden. 

The cool air clung to my skin as I blinked, adjusting myself to the darkness. The door shut behind us with a creak, the only sound intermingling with our footsteps. We quietly walked through the squares of planted herbs, wordlessly reaching the apple tree. 

I turned my head, looking down at the woman at my side; a puff of a hazy cloud left my mouth along with my exhale. There were only a few months left until a year would have passed since I got here. Dutch was still around, although at this point...I inwardly prayed that Ikthar had listed me as dead and forgotten by now. 

Hebe raised her brows in a sign of questioning, but the slight upturn of her lips was rather knowing. Her expression couldn't be called regretful nor sorrowful; resignation was perhaps the most apt description. 

I sighed again, looking away as I brushed my thumb against her knuckles, our hands still intertwined. 

"When I was young - younger than that boy there-," 

"Fin."

"-Yes, Fin," I gave an uncaring wave with my free hand, "When I was younger than Fin, I used to live in a village much like this one. In the east. Have you heard of Diven?" She shook her head, her bright eyes filled with gentle interest. My mouth pursed, although I shouldn't have expected much else. "Right, of course not. Diven was owned by a good baron - or, at least he seemed angelic compared to our neighboring villages. I thought I'd live there for the rest of my life." I paused, images slowly mixing with the darkness before my eyes and turning into blurry memories. I ground my teeth, shifting my gaze downward once more and meeting Hebe's stare. My tone wasn't heavy as I refocused back to my main point. "But, bandits attacked. My parents were somehow able to push me out of the fray before the raid. I and a couple of other kids couldn't go to the nearest villages, where we would be killed for sure. In the end, we had to join the...travelling group. My parents...You could say their dying words were for me to survive," I lifted my hands, cupping Hebe's face, "So don't blame me for being unyielding in my principles: for us to survive, we can't help Fin. We can't afford it. Finish patching him up and kick him out." 

Hebe released a brief chortle, her hands coming up to rest over mine. She gave me a small grin. 

"Then I suppose your parents would be proud to see how dutiful you are at upholding your principles." 

"...But?" I frowned, feeling the oncoming disagreement. 

"But," she removed my hands from her cheeks, leaning into my shoulder instead, "I can't comply. That would go against my purpose and place me in an immensely unhappy position." She continued faster than I could interrupt. "Does your purpose make you happy?"

"What?" 

"I decided that my purpose is to fulfill my brand of selfishness. Is the same true for you?"

"...Your purpose is generosity? Hebe, that makes you an absolute fool," I reprimanded with obvious disapproval. 

"Yes, but I'm a happy fool. Can you say the same?" 

I scoffed, an acquiescent sneer rising to my face as I wrapped my arms around the woman, pulling her closer to my chest. I couldn't think of a single thing to say, but apparently, I didn't need to; Hebe gave a long hum, followed by a murmur. 

"Although, for now, your purpose makes me glad. I'll always know that no matter what happens, you'll be safe."