Chapter 3

I looked at the gate rising, and watched as a form was slowly revealed to me. Black boots, covered slightly with mud, which went to just below the knee. A purple skirt starting from mid-thigh, to her waist, adorned with golden stitching along the hemline. To match the boots and provide contrast to the dress, a black belt adorned with golden stitching. As the gate continued to climb, I marveled at the sight before me. She wore a purple top, cut low, revealing remarkable cleavage, the sleeves, and cut were accented again by golden stitching ... However, the most stunning thing was when I saw her face. Her eyes were like emeralds, shining brightly, filled with life. Her hair was down past her shoulder and dark as a raven, which made her cream skin stand out even more. Her lips were full and red, accented by a cute little upturned nose.

As I studied the vision before me, taking in all the beauty in such a small package, it dawned on me. I knew this woman. Something about her was vaguely familiar, and that is when I realized. Her clothing was not purple at all, but rather it was the color of the most beautiful name I had ever heard. The most perfect name, for the most beautiful of creatures, Violet. The one person whom I had missed all the years was before me. I could still feel the sensation of the kiss she had given me the day I had left the village. I jumped off my cart, and slowly approached her as butterflies began to fill my stomach. I had changed so much over the past ten years and I could see that Violet had as well. I had never thought that I would see anything so beautiful in my life. Even though I had given my name, I did not want to scare her, as my size could easily intimidate people.

I stopped a few feet in front of her, keeping my eyes focused on her’s the whole time. She studied my face for a few moments until a glimmer of realization appeared in her eyes and it seemed that she had recognized me. I stood patiently as she walked slowly around me, probably studying how I had changed since we last saw each other. She stopped in front of me, looked deep into my eyes, and crooked her finger at me. I did stand a foot taller than her, at least. Instinctively, I knew what she wanted of me, and I dropped to one knee in front of her. Funny enough, down on one knee brought me to chest level with her, but I did not dare glance at it. My eyes never left hers as she came closer, taking my head in her tiny hands. I searched her eyes and saw the same yearning that I had felt for her. We had both missed one another dearly, and I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist.

Her fragrance filled my senses, filling my heart with joy and my stomach with even more butterflies. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her against me, the soft beating of her heart in my ears. She smelled the same as she had when we were children, a mix of lavender, violets, and a summer breeze. The scent was much more refined and yet more vivid and it drove my senses wild. Memories of the happy times we had together came flooding back into my mind. Of all the adventures we pretended to have, the games we played. Of us carving our names into our special tree and the kiss that we shared. A smile came across my face, one that had not been there for a very long time. A gasp came from her, I opened my eyes to see her standing there, and my face was now in her hands. Tears came to her eyes, a smile that I had not seen in ten years was there with it.

She jumped at me, wrapping her arms around my neck, hugging me as tightly as she could. Smiling, I wrapped mine back around her waist, and stood up. The feel of her in my arms again made my heart skip a few beats. I could not help the flood of emotions, I laughed and twirled her around. Both of us were laughing at the excitement of it all. After what seemed like an eternity, I stopped spinning us and placed her back down on the ground. We searched each other’s eyes, smiling at the other, and reveling in the joy of being with one another again.

“Welcome back, Davik,” she said, smiling brightly, “I am very happy you chose to come back to us.”

“As am I, Violet,” I said with a smile, causing her to blush, “and I don’t intend to leave you, or this place ever again!”

I took her to the wagon, grabbed the reins, and began leading us into town. Violet held my hand, as she sat on the seat beside me, a smile never leaving her face. Upon entering the town, I could really see how much it had changed, and where it had remained the same after all these years. New buildings had been built among the old ones, yet they had a shabby, worn look to them. Many homes were damaged, with poorly patched holes in walls and roofs, windows broken or covered with pieces of wood. Some of them looked downright abandoned, as if they had not seen use in the years I had been away. Cartha was now a sharp contrast to what I had left in Fardun a few weeks ago. It seemed the fortunes of the two villages had switched over the past ten years. Perhaps I could do my part to change Cartha for the better, bring it back to its previous glory.

The ground was a mess of mud and weeds, any grass that was to be found was dead and brittle. The trees that were once vibrant within the town had become dull and gray, without a single leaf to be found. The town looked like the ones from the dark stories we told around the campfire as children. The sight that really made me uneasy was the look of the people that we passed by. Every one of them had an unfriendly look in their eye, staring at me with suspicion and contempt. I had remembered this town being friendly, and welcoming when I was a child. Strangers had been treated like neighbors, with kindness and friendliness. Now, it seemed to be cold and unsettling to be in. They looked to be disheveled, less vibrant and broken people.

Despite the tension in the air and the negative looks form the people we passed, Violet was tremendously happy. We slowly made our way towards the center of the town square, where the mass of people had been when I had arrived. I saw a man at the far side of the square that I figured was connected to the Patron. No doubt, the guard who had run off had gone to notify him when I heard the commotion. As we made our way through the crowd in the village square, I was surprised at how many people were there. They were all talking amongst themselves until we came into view of the man I had seen, and then there was only silence. They studied me, no doubt noticing that Violet was holding hands with me, her smile radiating happiness.

As we approached him, the crowd began to spread farther, increasing the distance on either side of us. I could feel the hostility coming from all those who had gathered here, they looked on with suspicion. I knew I would have to be careful, as anything I said or did wrong could set them off. The crowd continued to step back until we reached the man who I believed worked for the Patron. He stood just above shoulder height to me, with fierce blue eyes and copper hair. His build was slim, of one who probably had not had to do hard work in his life, and he had a stance of arrogance and superiority. Some of his features reminded me of the Patron, though he had been much more regal and approachable then the person before me.

“Who do we have here?” he announced and I noticed his voice had a nasal sound to it, “We don’t get many outsiders in our village.”

I let out a chuckle as I got down from the wagon and said, “Well, since I am no outsider, that hasn’t changed.”

The look on his face showed that he was not amused by my retort and even seemed angry that I had talked back to him. His hands balled into tight fists and his knuckles began to turn white from the pressure he was putting on them. It seemed he was not accustomed to having anyone talk to him in any other way than with respect and awe.

“You should not speak that way to your superiors,” he growled. “Should it happen again, I will see you whipped, you insolent dog!”

My eyes narrowed, and I approached the man, whom I now realized was Brant. He had been the son of the Patron when I had lived here before and had been a little shit even then. I had seen him only a few times, and every time he was an arrogant ass to everyone because of who his father was. The night of my family’s death, my father was working on a sword for his birthday. Based on how he was acting, arrogant and self important, I guessed that he had not joined the Imperial Service, after all. If he had, that arrogance would have been beaten out of him long ago. I stopped just in front of him, and leaned down so that my face was only a half finger’s length away. I noticed a touch of fear in his eyes, but he held his ground and continued to look at me with indifference.

I sneered and said,”I would mind how you talk to me, Brant, as you would not want to be on my bad side! Now, could you get your father, so I can see about purchasing some property?”

He swallowed hard, I could see the fear in his eyes, but the anger was still there too. I knew telling him to get his father, as if to a common runner, would upset him.

“My father is dead, and has been for six years now!” he spat in retort. “ I am the Patron, and I will decide if I will allow some nobody to live in my village.”

The news that this ass was Patron was unsettling, as the Patron and my father had been close friends. It did explain the withered state of the village, as his self-importance would not allow him to care about the village like his father had. Only what he could take from them to make himself feel superior and keep him in a lavish lifestyle. This would make my return a bit harder, as Brant had always seemed to dislike me. His arrogance was getting on my nerves, but attacking the Patron would only serve to get me killed.

I saw guards approaching, watching me intently for any sign of violence. Reaching for Violet, he said, “Come Violet, I will not have you associating with trash such as him! I will take you home, and then I will deal with the scum when I return.”

Upon hearing what he said Violet turned and slapped him across his face as hard as she could. The impact knocked his head back, and left his face with a bright red handprint on his cheek. This was the first time I had ever seen her angry enough to do something that would in reality be breaking the law. Striking a Patron can result in the loss of a hand or worse, the loss of their life. The only way to stop that from happening is if the town sided with the accused on the matter. Given how he would be running the village, I would not be surprised if no one dared side against him.

“Davik is not trash or scum, Brant! If you ever call him that again, you will regret it! Do you hear me?!” The mention of my name caused the whole group of people in the square to get into an uproar.