The Seeress

Chapter Three

Harold couldn't believe his uncle could be so desperate. But even if he brought it up to Alfred, John was still allowed to perform this task. Who this woman is, he could never know.

"And that is the worst part, he doesn't even care," Harold said to his cousin, too busy to enjoy the brief warm peace that endures in Skoravik. He always enjoyed the nights in town, as the safe wooden walls gave him peaceful thoughts.  Edwin could never admit that he enjoyed the architecture the Nords had left behind. Was it better than Westhaven? Couldn't decide, but it was far different. Their several different gods all enchanted him, and gave him wonders of this culture that he still tries to adjust to, as opposed to the only one god all Westerners praise. 

"You listened to a word I just said?" Harold demanded as he saw his cousin looking through the town faintly.

"Not now, just let me have this moment," Edwin couldn't even look him in the eye. He rather wanted to leave him to walk around in the streets. Where? Doesn't matter to him. As long as he knew to come back to the inn by midnight. Edwin looked at the children passing by, both Western and Nord alike. He could tell obviously by the hair like any other would. The dark-haired represents his kin, while the Nords are more golden-haired.

"Why looking at children is fun to you?" Harold said, his hands waving in front of Edwin. Edwin returned to reality before being annoyed at his cousin again. Some 'warrior' he is. He couldn't know how long he managed to survive, and why his uncle kept bringing him along. He couldn't even enjoy looking at passersby with him around. With this, he chose not to linger anymore. 

"Where are you going?" Harold demanded.  

"Talk to the locals, at least they'll be nicer," Edwin said as he calmly left. Talk to the locals, Harold thought of him. He would rather talk to Nords than to his own kin. Or rather, those who would not mock his weak body. Typical of Edwin. Makes him wonder whether he was purposefully being weak to fool him. Harold had better things to do than to mingle with them either way.

Harold cursed under his breath. Was his cousin and uncle that oblivious? He couldn't even introduce the lady to him. He didn't choose to linger around the streets anymore; the cold air at night merely made him distracted. As a matter of fact, he chooses not to linger around here anymore. As a result, he headed back to the inn, as he had no other things to do before retiring for the day.

"If only it weren't like this..." Harold said as he entered the inn.

"Your name is Harold, correct?" 

A voice came from nowhere. Harold blinked fast and unsheathed his sword at a quick pace. His eyes dart back and forth, as he could not know who was there. Drunkards perhaps, bastards who linger at night with their sorry ale. Except that he could smell no ale, and her voice was too coherent. He only found a cloaked woman, sitting there alone. Her face was well hidden. Even if she was drinking a cup of water, Harold couldn't see her face properly, much less what he was about to do.

"Who are you, precisely?" Harold lowered his sword, but not sheathing it. He clearly did not trust the lady. She bowed as she then put on her mask. The dark, litless eyes contrasting that of the fireplace gave a chill to him, although he did not show his fear to her.

"You still didn't answer me," Harold said.

"Called me whoever you want... even lady..." the woman replied briefly.

"Lady... is that it?" Harold scoffed at her answer. In a way, he was rather intrigued by her, but at the same time ready to slit her throat if necessary. He knew more than to trust people blindly.

"You're a Nord or a Westerner?" Harold asked. 

"What does it matter to you? You and your questions..." Lady said. Harold merely looked at her weirdly. He was most definitely confused by her lack of care whatsoever. He could not even see whether her hair was yellow or brown. As a result, Harold did not know what to do with her.

"I take that you're the 'lady' that my uncle was talking about," Harold said, before finding himself a seat next to her. He made sure his longsword was quite close to him. Should he worry over a lady? He might never know.

"You mean John? That was your uncle?" Lady asked.

"Yes, you got some large bag of coins there," Harold said. "You're not some sort of nobility, aren't you?"

"Nordic Nobility? You jest?" Lady said, almost with a hint of laughter. Perhaps Harold should have worded it better. "Look what happened to them after the Great War. They might as well not have nobility," Lady continued.

The way she casually mocked the Nords. A Westerner likely, Harold thought.

"Well, the Crown allows them to exist, and they do," Harold replied in his usual serious tone. "So that doesn't answer my question, are you nobility?" he asked again.

"You are not a seeress, aren't you?" Harold gave a slight jest to Agnetha, as he snorted at her. "Will my pride lead to my doom in this fable of your people?" 

Agnetha merely looked up to him without words. It would seem that there was nothing that would aggravate her. 

"Why do you need to know?"

Harold saw red, more annoyed than angry. He leaned forward as if he had enough of her. "You may fool my uncle, but you will have to do a lot better than that with me!" Harold said, his breath could be touched by Lady, who even without looking at her face, gave a posture to show her seriousness.

"I'm a daughter of a merchant, does that satisfy you?" the lady replied, without a hint of fear in her. Harold didn't leave her, still knowing something was hidden from him.

"Merchant of what?"

"What does it matter to you? I did not pay for questions," Lady replied, surprisingly annoyed at him. Her body posture indicates that she is defensive, afraid even. But Harold wasn't going to let her go until his mind was at ease. Merchants in the land mostly comprised of those who sell their wares. Mostly essential items needed to survive. So her answer was terribly vague.

"I don't know why you chose us, I don't know why you're going, I don't even know your name," Harold said. Harold was getting angrier and angrier, especially apparent in his voice. Lady could leave this place and him. It wasn't as if Harold could kill her. But deep down, she does owe him an explanation, if she could afford to.

"Look, don't make me..."

The door's creaks could be heard, as Harold turned to see his uncle again. "What are you doing Harold?" John demanded as Harold tsked. He knew that arguing with him was useless. And thus he did not continue.

"You're right, I shouldn't care," Harold said as he left the room, too frustrated to even talk. Harold always had a hundred things to say whenever they disagreed. This time, however, he simply didn't find the mood to do so. 

"Maybe I should be like Edwin, oblivious to all evil that can harm," Harold said, with only his longsword as his friend. Once more, he felt the air chilling, reminding him how alone he was. Perhaps he enjoyed it once in a while, to get away from so much.  He wondered why his uncle chose to come to this nation, this very place that his Western people bled to conquer. But of course, he then reminded himself of the Crown. 

Whenever he saw a Nord, he always felt a bit of fear. How could people accept Westhaven after what they have done to them? He always imagined that one of them would come up to him, and he would feel a small blade in his guts. Perhaps he was paranoid to think so. But he knew better not to trust so easily. After all, being a mercenary taught him many things.

In front of him, a man burst out of the door. He was Edwin lying there as Harold instinctively laid his hand on his sword.

"Hey! Stop it!" Edwin cried out as a couple of children started tickling him. Harold could identify them as Nords, as Edwin brushed their hair. Playing with children, of course, Harold thought. A pathetic hobby no doubt. Edwin turned to a half-serious face as soon as he saw him.

"Harold, you came!" Edwin said with glee. "Care to help me?"

"Get up you fool," Harold said as he tried to hide his embarrassment.