Outside the Covington Manor, East Shroud, 1569
Birds chirped, singing their songs from atop the lush forest canopies. Leaves rustled quietly upon the summer breeze. If one listened closely enough, he might even hear the occasional chittering or skittering of some wild creature. It was the soundtrack of a typical sunny day in the Black Shroud, not far from the Nine Ivies and the Sylphlands, and the perfect background music, Faye thought, to enjoy some reading.
She had to take advantage of the pleasant weather, after all. Of course, her definition of enjoying the fresh air and great outdoors seemed to be spreading a blanket over the grass of the back lawn and propping a parasol along the ground to shield her sensitive skin from the sun's rays. She lay sprawled across the blanket in the shade, propping herself upon her elbows as she flipped through the pages of the novel. However, the subtle sounds of summer were soon interrupted. A sharp noise rang out, echoing throughout the wooded surroundings.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
Agitated, she looked up to see Zularti several feet away, swinging a stick at the trunk of a tall, thick tree in chopping motion imitating an axe. Perhaps stick wasn't quite the right word, though. It was a rather long and sturdy looking branch, likely quite heavy, but certainly not a difficult thing to find in the East Shroud. By a year later, life had long since settled back into a normal pace and it was as if the latest, adopted edition to the Covington family had been there along (and he indeed did end up with the neat scar he so desired, bisecting straight through an eye with an eerie white iris).Â
Faye regarded him as a nuisance, but though she would never admit it aloud, truthfully she was quite grateful for his company. He was always chipper, and rarely ever did he speak of his real family or his old life, or whatever exactly had occurred that day in La Noscea. Faye sometimes wondered if that wasn't a bad sign. Was he in denial, repressing it all? Could anyone truly be so happy-go-lucky after enduring something like that?
"What are you doing?" she asked flatly.
"I'm pretending to be a lumberjack!" he answered enthusiastically, but he did also seem a bit baffled she felt the need to ask such a question. Wasn't the answer obvious? He didn't pause in his assault upon the poor tree as he spoke. "Maybe I'll be a botanist someday! That doesn't sound very cool... but it could be if I was chopping down really, really big trees! That's manly, right? Maybe I need something cooler, though..."
Faye rolled her eyes, not dignifying his words with a response as she returned her attention to the opened book, resuming on the page where she had left off. Not long after she had found her place despite the distracting noise of wood smacking wood, a small chunk of wood went flying just over her head, fortunately missing but tearing a hole through the delicate cloth of her parasol. She whipped her head over her shoulder to eye the damage before immediately shooting a glare in Zularti's direction, her face scrunching up in annoyance. "Hey! Watch it!" she snapped sharply.
Zularti, however, either didn't seem to hear or didn't seem to care. "I guess my botany could use some work! I know! I could be a super strong swordsman!" He switched his stance, now slashing and occasionally stabbing with the branch as if it were a sword. "I'll beat up lotsa bad guys and save everyone! I'll be a hero! People will tell stories about me and bards will sing songs; I'll be famous!"
The girl gave an audible huff, hoping he could hear it from his location, her narrowed eyes resting upon him in an angry stare. With one more slash, another piece of his "sword" broke and went flying through the air with impressive force and speed, though this time Faye nor her umbrella weren't to be its victim. Instead, it flew straight up, landing a clear hit on Zularti's temple and bouncing off. Faye's brow furrowed and her lips pursed into a frown as she witnessed the scene, setting down her book without thinking to mark her place and beginning her trek toward him.
The impact had been enough to break the skin, a line of crimson blood quickly forming upon his forehead and trickling down his face and the flesh already beginning to slowly bruise. "Hahaha!" There was a brief pause after his burst of laughter before, "Ouch, that kinda hurt." He gave a belated stagger, wobbling, dizzy and somewhat dazed after the sudden blow to his forehead.
"You're so dumb," Faye grumbled in that tone thoroughly indicative of only an irate teenage girl, lifting her right hand to rest it on his forehead above the wound. Her palm began to radiate with a gentle, white light and Zularti's mismatched eyes peered up at the glow of her conjury, watching her work her literal magic with curiosity. The wound began to mend, torn flesh closing itself, throbbing pain relieved and replaced with warm and fuzzy feelings all over. The healing hadn't completely alleviated the pain of the blow, but it certainly had dulled it and stopped the bleeding. The light around her hand faded as she dropped it back down to her side, instead fishing out a handkerchief from her pocket and beginning to dab the remaining blood from his face like a doting grandmother.
Zularti grimaced, craning his head out of the reach of her hand and the now blood-stained cloth it held. "Hold still!" she protested, stepping to closer to him but for some reason her legs felt uncertain under her weight. She fumbled her footing, nearly toppling over into him, but he lifted a hand to her shoulder to gently nudge her backward and back on balance before her face collided with his chest.
"Whoa! Are you okay?"
She blinked and simply stared at him for a moment, and wondered if perhaps she had been the one who had been struck on the skull. It would explain why she suddenly felt so dizzy and overcome with the sudden urge to take a nap.Â
"Of course I am," she answered dryly. "Are you?"
![[Image: NCtCate.png]](http://i.imgur.com/NCtCate.png)
