Book 3 Chapter 5

Willow noted the many distrustful looks he got as they made their way through the village. It wasn’t that uncommon for out of the way communities to be fairly insular in his experience, but usually when a local was openly friendly a lot of that frigidity would begin to thaw.

Which implied that the Fabers were likely still considered outsiders themselves by the community as a whole.

“So how long has your family lived here?” Willow asked, trying to get a better sense of things.

Remy scratched at his cheek in thought. “I think about five winters? Took a bit to find somewhere that’d accept us and preferably needed both a smith and tailor so we didn’t step on anyone’s toes with our arrival.”

He looked around at the relatively small village. “We’re still not entirely welcome, but it honestly feels like a lot of the people here dislike their neighbors more than is healthy. Though I could just have unrealistic expectations from our time in the Vale?”

Willow shook his head. “Most of the places I’ve been to are generally friendlier, though I’ve definitely seen worse.”

He contemplated how much he wanted to share of the problem plaguing the village. He settled on not tipping his hand, since it was ultimately better to catch the Grudge unaware. He’d tell Remy what had been going on once the problem was actually dealt with.

Willow also needed to figure out a proper solution for the Grudge. He could probably defeat it with minimal issues, but his path required that he not destroy it outright.

A problem he had wrestled with in the past. This spirit thrived off of the misery of others, yet could he fault a spirit for being born in the manner they had, and did they deserve oblivion for it?

He didn’t think so.

Since Remy had fallen into silence, Willow felt it was time to consult his friends on the matter.

“Do you think we could Change the Grudge? Not massively, just into a spirit that would be a tad less harmful to humans?” He sent to both of the twins.

The two of them hummed in unison, thinking on the problem.

“We would have no control on what they changed into, but it is possible. If you weakened them a suitable amount and then proceeded to flood them with our concepts they should shift in some way.”

“And would that be a worse wrong than just killing it?” He asked with concern.

Willow knew that spirits were fundamentally different from humans, but he felt that he would not like being forcibly changed like that against his will.

“Eh, most of our kind prioritise survival and gaining strength.” Change answered him. “While change doesn’t necessarily come naturally to us, most would prefer it over oblivion.”

He nodded slightly to himself. It was a plan, but he could hopefully refine it a tad with the time he had left until night.

Willow gave Remy a considering look. “You don’t have a spirit yet, right?”

While a Grudge was likely ill suited for his old friend, it was decently powerful and would be a boon for his family if he were to bind it or whatever type of spirit it turned into.

The wide eyed teen shook his head. “My mother says I’m not ready for Snips yet, and my father already gave his spirit to Rom, though he’s since left.”

Willow raised a brow. “That’s weird, shouldn’t he have taken over your da’s forge if he got Stannum?”

That was the common convention according to what Willow knew. Especially if a family didn’t have a surplus of spirits to pass down.

Remy wrinkled his nose. “You’d think, but there was a girl in a neighboring town that he was making moon eyes at. So as soon as he got Stannum, he packed his things and set off, leaving my parents in quite the state. Really messed with my father’s livelihood too, he can smith just fine, but getting quality metal out here is a lot more difficult without using a spirit.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Might be the real reason my mother hasn’t gifted me Snips yet. Could be worried I’ll run off too. Which doesn’t even make sense, a scissor spirit is convenient, but wouldn’t affect my ability to ply the tailor’s trade elsewhere, right?”

Willow nodded hesitantly, not needing his senses to know that there was some budding resentment going on.

They reached a relatively small home on the edge of the village, and Willow realized it was likely their destination due to the smoke and noise coming from the still active forge attached to it.

His nerves were ratcheting up, even though he intellectually knew that there was no real threat from the people he once considered to be like family. Worst case scenario he could just leave, and there would be little they could do in retaliation to him.

Yet there was a part of him that yearned to be accepted, quirks and all. So he’d give the woman he once thought of as his aunt another chance, now that he felt more comfortable telling her the whole truth.

His thoughts were interrupted by Mister Faber stepping out of his forge and wiping the sweat from his brow. He grabbed a ladle from a bucket hung on an outside post and drank greedily, stopping only when he saw the two youths approaching.

His brow scrunched in brief confusion on seeing his son’s companion. “Is that Rowan’s boy with you, Remus?”

Willow chuckled nervously and gave the man a small wave. “Technically yes, though probably not the one you’re thinking of. It’s nice to see you again, Mister Faber.”

His statement didn’t seem to clear things up at all, with Lucius’ look of confusion merely deepening.

“It’s Willow, father. Told you she wasn’t lying when she’d told me her spirits had turned her into a boy.”

Willow winced internally at his old friend’s attempt at a defense. The least he could do is address him correctly. Though the situation was odd enough that he could give Remy some leeway, all things considered. He would also hold judgement on him revealing his secret when he got more information on the circumstances surrounding the reveal as well.

The confused expression shifted to surprise and then concern. He then pinched the bridge of his nose with calloused fingers.

“Oh this was a bad idea, son. Your mother is going to have another fit if she sees them.”

He let out a sigh before walking closer and holding out his arm to Willow. Which he hesitatingly grasped, slightly confused.

“It is nice to see you though, Willow. Glad your path has not given you hardships you couldn’t bear. However, I would recommend that you leave as soon as possible, before my wife finds out you’re here.”

Willow didn’t realize he’d begun to grip Mister Faber’s forearm too hard until he saw the man wince. He let go as if the man’s arm was red hot to the touch.

“Sorry about that. Still adjusting to my strength at times.” He attempted to both apologize and explain.

Lucius attempted to laugh it off. “It’s fine, these things happen. Did I ever tell you the time your father bruised my ribs with a hug soon after he bound Bough? Had a firm talking to from my mother after that, and he treated me like glass for weeks to come.”

Willow relaxed a bit as his uncle was treating him almost the same as when he was younger. Even if the man was adamant that his wife would not be pleased about his arrival, it was nice to see the man who was like a brother to his father still seemed to accept him.

The front door of the Faber residence opened, and out stepped the woman who’d nursed him as a baby.

“Is Remy back? I’d like some help with dinner!”

She froze upon seeing the person her husband was chatting with.

“Willow?”