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Psychological Torment Of The Farmer

Back with chapter two!! Again, this has been read through once or twice for editing but isn't perfect so please feel free to point out any more gramatical/spelling errors!

In this chapter, we get to look at little more at May and Oryn's past.

tw: mentions of death, grief, loss, slight bodily horror

Ch. 2

There was a glare in May’s eyes that no one had seen before. A look that made her seem more like her father with every passing second. As the beads of sweat slowly started to drip from one man’s head to the oak table they all sat, May sat straighter in her chair.

“He stays,” The solidarity in her voice for something that wasn’t human sent a shiver down the spines of her men. “And if any of you disagree, let it be known now. Otherwise, you’re all dismissed.”

The men started to stand from their seats, the drag of wood across the stone floor ringing in their ears. It was silent but for the noise of their movements; no one dared disagree.

“Alec,” May snapped, seeing the young soldier starting towards the door. “Not you. You stay.”

The rest of them filed one by one out the door, Alec’s hands shaking as he looked down at his feet. He’d never spoken directly to the Dutchess before. He didn’t even think she knew his name. He knew the meeting would be about everything that happened last night, so it wasn’t a surprise when he got the summons. She must know he was the one to start the whole thing…

The slow tick, tick, tick, of the ancient clock droned on as May sat behind her desk, eyeing the child in front of her. He couldn’t be more than twelve, maybe thirteen—nowhere near old enough to experience the horrors of war. Why the recruits kept getting younger and younger with each passing month, May couldn’t tell, but she couldn’t argue with the strength of numbers.

“You’re not in trouble,” she started. She could see him shaking, the red hue of his cheeks as he stared at the floor slowly fading the more she spoke. “But there’s something important we need to discuss.”

There was a slow and painful droning starting to cradle the base of Alec’s neck.

“Please, sit.” May said, extending her arm to the chair in front of her. Alec looked up at her with tears brimming in his eyes, his hands slowly reaching for the arm of the chair before his heavy feet began to move across the floor.

“There was a sacrifice made by a man last night that I’ll never be able to repay,” she said, taking her time to make sure Alec heard the severity in her words. “I need you to know that your lieutenant’s family is going to be taken care of by me, personally.”

Alec’s shoulders slowly started to unfurl themselves, a small wave of tension slowly washing away from him.

“What happened here last night can never happen again.”

Alec’s brows furrowed as he wrinkled his nose, sniffing a bit to keep his tears at bay. “How can you say that and let him stay?” He said, his eyes pleading with May.

There was a part of May’s heart that, in that moment, slowly started breaking for the small boy. “He didn’t know,” she started, giving way to Alec shaking his head.

“No animal ever does,” he choked, a tear starting to fall.

May stood from her desk, her cloak shrouding her massive form as she walked around it to kneel beside Alec. She took his hands in hers, looking up at his eyes, past the tears staining his cheeks. “He’s not an animal. He’s lost. And I think bringing him here…” she sighed, dropping his hands but keeping her eyes locked on his own. “I think it changed something inside of him.”

As she stood and walked back to her desk, Alec wiped his tears with the back of his hand. They weren’t shaking anymore. The low hum slowly crept up his skull. “Where did he come from?” he asked, “What is he?”

“I don’t know what he is. I don’t think anyone knows what he is. But there’s human in him. Because of that, I’m not going to subject him to whatever torture some High Councilor or Mage might have in mind for him.” She locked eyes once again with Alec, her own brow furrowing to match his. “I need your help, son.”

Less than twelve hours ago there was a pain and a guilt racking Alec’s chest, swallowing him whole as he prayed for the life of a superior whose death he felt responsible for. And yet here he sat now, being praised for his duty and taken aside by the Dutchess herself to ask a favor. His sense of duty was whole and always would be; his grandfather’s grandfather plowed the fields his grandchildren one day would, and through all those generations they’ve diligently served May’s family. He didn’t question May, but in that moment, he questioned her motivation. In no scroll or parchment anywhere in Aphoreum did it say to praise a man for causing death—rather, the Gods call it a Natural Sin unless to protect one’s self—and yet here he sat.

“I need to know if I have your full loyalty, Alec.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat and sat higher in his chair. “You do, my Lady.” The words fell off the boy’s tongue before he could have a moment to think of them.

May nodded. “I’m sure you can tell that we’ve been slowly building ourselves up since the last set of port raids, but in a way much different than in the past. Steering away from Crown Union Mercenaries, the King’s trade policies… Do you think of me as less of a leader for that?”

“No, my Lady.”

“And how do you think of the church?”

It was a loaded question, of course. There was a million and one things Alec could’ve said in that moment, knowing the God’s wrath and understanding the world’s Natural Chaos. There were those who were so afraid of the God’s that they’d cower in the daylight for fear of being stuck by a stray bolt of lightning.

He huffed out a solid breath. “Are you asking me what I think of the Gods, my Lady? Or the church itself?”

The smirk that spread on May’s lips told Alec that he’d answered correctly.

“There’s something coming, son,” May said, “and it won’t be for those who can’t stomach it. That… thing you saw last night, that beast—there’s a man in there who can learn how to control that. Do you understand what that means?”

Alec thought he did, and slowly nodded.

“Good. It’s settled, then.” May stood from her desk, prompting Alec to do the same. “I’m promoting you. Congratulations, . You and I will see a lot of each other. I’m going to provide you with a copy of the keys for the manor’s archive. You can read, yes?”

Alec was shocked, his jaw all but sitting on the floor. He nodded vigorously.

“We need to figure out what he is. And I don’t want them to know.”

-

Oryn and May sat in silence in May’s study, the cracking of the fire behind them burning strong, the spring wind softly blowing through the open window.

May looked at Oryn and saw someone she thought she recognized. There were the bags drooping under their eyes and ashen skin, showing a lack of sleep. But that wasn’t what was different. The way they sat in the chair said something was amiss; the muscle under their shirt seemingly misplaced, the crook of their jaw not matching the glide of their neck. This was someone May knew, but not someone she could truly recognize.

After moments of May’s puzzling stare, she spoke, her words soft and clipped.

“What are you?”

May’s presence in that mighty carved chair positioned behind the sturdy oak desk was something Oryn wanted to keep fresh in their mind. They’d never seen May as anything other than an afraid child, much like the way May must have viewed Oryn. Until now, of course. As a sigh escaped their lips, Oryn let themselves fall deeper into the cushioned chair they sat upon. There was no use in fighting it now; not here, not with her.

Their eyes traced the grains of the wood in the desk. “I don’t know.”

Oryn understood rules: there were things you couldn’t do, or bad things would happen as a result. There were small rules, like being gentle with glass potion bottles. And there were big ones, too, like the rules made by a king. Seeing May sitting behind the desk reminded them of all the rules they had to follow, the order they had to keep; there are consequences to actions, punishments when rules are broken. Oryn knew they were wrong, knew if anyone else had done what they had, they’d be strung up and left for dead—that’s how May ran her duchy. And yet, here they both sat, in comfortable chairs beside a blazing fire, the sweet scent of blooming flowers in the chilled air settling over the room.

“Who are you?”

Oryn’s eyes met May’s. “I’m me. I’m not—”

“But you look different. You’re not… you’re different, somehow.” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk, peering at Oryn like there was something missing.

“I don’t know how to—”

That puzzled expression vanished from May’s features as she slammed a hand on the desk, Oryn jumping in shock. “What do you fucking know?!”

~

There was a rush of something hot sucking May down to the floor, the heat scorching her skin and burning away any thoughts she had outside the pain. The blinding light of something better unknown sent her eyes rolling back in her skull.

When they told her there would be a price to pay, she didn’t expect something like this.

Her screams of pain soon mixed with Oryn’s screaming pleas, falling upon the desperate yet stern ears of the three women.

“You’re killing her!” Oryn shouted, their own skin started to vibrate with what they thought was fear, or maybe anger.

Starla wrapped her long, bony arms around Oryn’s waist, restraining her with more strength than many thought the old hag capable of.

Elisa’s eyes darkened, her brow furrowing as she took a long look at May writhing in pain on the floor. “Maureen…”

“She begged me!” Maureen started, her stable hands—one touching May, the other, her brother’s corpse—starting to shake. “She begged me…” she trailed off, sweat running down her neck as she sucked in a deep breath.

“If she could pay—” Elisa started.

“She can! She can pay! She’s—”

There was a reverberation felt throughout the cabin, the wooden floor cracking and splitting, the mud walls crumbling in places and every small animal and bug scattering out from the structure and into the forest beyond. Then all was silent, but for the settling of the cabin back onto its own weight.

May was left on the floor—unharmed, unconscious, and unable to pay.

Maureen lifted her hands from both bodies, stepping away from them as if she’d just seen something unholy.

Starla released her grip on Oryn, who fell to the floor and scrambled to May, cradling her head on their lap. “What were you doing to her?” They spat at their guardians.

Starla joined Maureen and Elisa, the three of them staring at the two on the floor.

“Why didn’t—”

“She asked for…”-

“What is she going to do?”

-

When May finally found herself waking, it was in a soft bed of furs in front of a roaring fire. She felt as though she had just fought a war; she felt as though she lost.

Maureen was at her bedside, softly cooing a lullaby under her breath and wiping at the sweat staining May’s brows. As May looked up at her, her eyes practically dripping with hope, she was met with Maureen’s look of unrelenting grief.

Through violent, choking sobs, May asked her, “Why?”

Maureen shook her head, Oryn bolting through the doorway of the small room, their breath heavy and eyes wide. “She’s awake?”

May grabbed Maureen’s arm, raking her fingers down her skin. “WHY?” she screamed, hot tears falling to the blankets surrounding her, breath hitching in her throat.

Oryn ran to her bedside, a look of astonishment upon their face. Here, for the first time, Oryn was meeting Grief; something primal and carnal and deeply engrained in what it means to be alive. Oryn beheld the only friend they had known in her throws of pain and wails of loss, clawing for something that didn’t exist and gasping for air that seemed so easy to breathe.

Maureen turned to Oryn, who was tempted to place a hand upon May’s back and comfort her the way they thought they should. But the look on Maureen’s face—the daggers in her eyes—screamed not to get involved. This is a human thing, her eyes said, something you can’t understand.

Maureen held May as she screamed her throat raw and bloody; she held her through her convulsions and the begging and the desperate feeling that comes from being and feeling utterly and completely alone in the world.

Oryn felt like it was something she could understand if Maureen would ever let her get close enough to someone to know.

That distance, though, that forced space Maureen created between Oryn and anything else living, was a punishment she greatly deserved.

~

“I know I’m not all human,” Oryn said, their low voice droning out the sound of the fire and the wind, “But I don’t know anything more than that.”

May sat back, folding her arms in front of her. “What happened?”

As Oryn gazed at May, they started to cry. First it was just a small tear trailing down their cheek, gently dripping into their lap. “I… I killed someone,” they whispered, trying to blink away the salty tears but only making it worse. “I killed someone,” they repeated, their eyes boring into May’s soul as she sat in front of them, pleading for something they didn’t quite understand yet; mercy.

She wept in front of May, tears pouring seemingly with no end, as they felt the guttural urge of knowing they’d done something wrong and needed to pay for it.

Visiting an old friend or something

LOSING MY MIND !!!!!!! @skidotto just keeps making absolutley INSANE character art for my lovely oc's. This is May!! EVERYONE TELL HIM HOW COOL HIS ART IS R A H

Mr. Qi’s special milk

mr. Qi but in medieval style

my latest art inspired this monstrosity :_)

Wuh

The seminar devolves into Shadowheart and Lae’zel finding acceptable ways to insult each other while Karlach laughs them off and Wyll wonders why we can’t all be nice.

hey who wants to be friends, we can talk about ummm *checks notes* sambastian, let's see what else hmm *flip* sambastian and uhhh *squints* sambastian