Hearth (Patreon)

Hearth

…

Commissioned by Sivantic 

Wordcount: 2500

…

I awake in a wooden cabin. It is a small structure that lacks walls. The kitchen, living quarters, work area, and bedroom all are all situated in an open space. There is no stovetop, only a fireplace situated next to a kitchen with a small fridge and a sink. There are two sets of wires in the home, one for appliances and the other for lights, and both sets are simply tied against wood to be kept out of the way.

There are no signs of any threats, so I evaluate it with more care, as I rise up.

It is the domicile of someone well-situated outside of civilization… who I was fortunate enough to be found and saved by. 

Beside the bed is a bowl filled with bloodied water, a bottle of alcohol, a medical stapler, and gauze. All things that could be easily used to survive in the event of emergency. And, whosoever found me used them all to save my life. The cuts on my arms, the gash along my stomach, and the hole in my leg have all been administered to as well as they possibly could… and my clothes are hung near the fireplace to dry.

My gambit to escape paid off, even though I fell in a river in the dead of winter. 

Yet, it will be long before I could return to attend to my duties.

Hundreds will die, because I was too weak, and was forced to retreat.

But… perhaps not… if I could leave now.

The door to the cabin is unlocked and a figure clad in robust Winter gear enters. The winds howl in his wake and snow threatens to entire, before he closes the door behind him. A strong blizzard rages outside, with only the strong construction of the cabin and its insulation ensuring that I hadn’t noticed it. The owner of the dwelling must have been attending to the generator required to power his home, so that it would function despite the weather, before swiftly returning.

“Oh, you’re awake!” The voice the comes through the hooded, masked face framed by faux fur is younger than I anticipate. Orange lenses are swiftly removed by snow-covered gloves and I meet the eyes of the one who saved me for the first time. They’re a warm brown, allowing me to breathe a sigh of relief, as he’s not one of the many monsters that I pursue. A smile follows the human gaze, along with locks of messy, black hair, once the mask and hood are pulled down and back. “Even though you shouldn’t be! Is that good or bad?”

The words were a mixture of bluntness and confusion that was off putting, but it was born of concern and lacked any malice whatsoever. With my wounds and how I was presumably found, death was to be expected of a mere human being, with mere survival being a miracle. To rise from being rescued before my clothes dried? That was beyond abnormal in the eyes of an experienced survivalist.

So, for the sake of keeping him the dark of my existence, I prepare to erase myself from his life and brave the blizzard—

“Oh, I’m being silly. How could that be anything besides good? I’m glad that you’re okay!” I do not know why, but those simple words stop me from acting as I ought to have done. Those who live unaware of the other world, where monsters dwell, plan, and act in the name of violence, should be kept away from them. It is my duty to ensure that no one becomes involved with my mission, because it ensures their safety. Yet, my hand falls to my side as the one rescue me approaches with a smile and cheeks flushed from the cold. He took my upraised hand, assumed it fell from weakness, and shook it with a satisfied nod. “The name’s Calhoun, but you can just call me Cal!”

It took me a moment to recall my name, but I gave it to him after I did.

I did not know why I did it.

…

There is always another battle that needs to be fought. The enemy is pervasive, everywhere, and filled with a voracious appetite for destruction. To stand idly by, with power that can stop evil, is an evil in and of itself. So long as I can stand and fight, even while injured, I ought to fight for the sake of those who cannot fight for themselves. 

Every day, I soundlessly recite those words when I awake, so that I can remember my mission and purpose.

I was born to destroy monsters wherever they roam. My strength and power would otherwise be used for evil, if not for that singular purpose. It is a purpose that I take pride in, which my family ensured that I could pursue from the moment I could walk, and for which I am glad to have. Even though I am different, practically inhuman, and so utterly incompatible with others, I am able to help others and do good deeds which shall vindicate my existence.

Yet, after being recovering from my wounds and destroying the monsters that lurked in the nearby village, I find myself on the path to Calhoun’s cabin once again.

“Ah, you’re back. Did everything go well?” I lied to him about my circumstances. I told him that I went to the village with the intent to see if my wounds mended properly, when in reality I returned to defeated my foes. They were surprised by my return, thinking me dead, and with their guard down they fell against me in battle. That should have been the end of it. My next journey should have commenced, with my feet taking me to the next passing rumor of a monster, yet I loom over the man who saved me while his gloved hands brush the snow from my shoulders and grasp my arms. “You look better much… and I think that’s the first smile I’ve seen you make!”

Calhoun’s manner of speaking, the way he focused entirely on me, and the way he smiled… there was warmth that flowed from all three that drove away the chill of winter. I’ve experienced hospitality before, when my path drew me near cities where the League was strong, but it was focused on luxury instead of the comforting sensation that I felt at Calhoun’s homestead. I didn’t have a name for what I was experiencing, for it was something utterly different from what I knew, but I am sure that it is what drew me back to him.

So, of course, I could repay my debt.

“You did well care for me and sheltering me. Take this as a gift, please.” I’d ventured overnight to my previous safehouse and fetched a modicum of supplies, as well as supplies. The repayment of debts is necessary. Just as I owed my life to my family, for all their teachings and supervision, I owed this man for saving my life. He risked his own carrying me through a blizzard, then shared with me the bulk of his supplies, so that I could heal properly for my injuries. The modest sum I gave him, as well as the packs of emergency rations, was a modest repayment for all that he did for someone underserving. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You came up here carrying all of that just to leave?” Calhoun gasped at the sight of what I offered. It wasn’t heavy for me, but in my effort to repay him, I’d ignored the crucial point of appearing perfectly mundane. His home is in the wilderness, faraway from the nearest road, and I’d reached him on foot with a hiking bag filled to the brim with supplies. If I hadn’t offered the entire pack to him, taking it from my bag and laying it upon the freshly-fallen snow, I could have claimed some the supplies were mine, but in my haste to offer the gift, I’d forgotten. “You can’t do that! At least stay for the night and for dinner, so you can rest before going back!”

There it was again. 

The actions that elicited an unknown, incomparable feeling within me. During my stay with him, I felt it every day. The warmer, more honest analogue to the hospitality offered by staffs trained to serve. I can easily refuse the aid of the suited, professional, and tidy individuals that some of my contacts and fellows had in their employ. The lap of luxury was one that I could not bear to enjoy, especially when there was more to hunt, however I could barely consider the thought of not accepting another wasteful night spent lethargically listening to stories in a simple, warm cottage with Calhoun. 

My purpose in life is to fight and die against the crawling chaos that threatens to overtake all life, but the words to refuse would not come to my lips.

And, the will to break his grip from my hand was nonexistent as well.

“I know that you’re busy, but stay for a little and try some of my bear soup. It’s gamy, but I think you’ll like it a lot. You’ve liked all the stronger flavors, after all!” Calhoun lightly laughed, as he pulled me forward, and my body acquiesced to his desires. His words served only to further my confusion and inability to handle the strong, fuzzy sensations coursing within me, which only strengthened upon his mention of my preferences towards food. They were words that I had never heard before. Never uttered to me by my family nor all those who trained me. So, they ought to have been only mere words… not nearly a spell which took from me the drive which defined me. “Let’s get a meal together and celebrate that you’re okay! That’s something worth to be happy about, right?”

Was it?

Was being merely hale and whole worth celebrating?

I did not know, but I felt myself nod when his smiling gaze turned to meet my own.

Every moment we spent together, I felt only a continuous, unknown need that made me utterly helpless, yet I felt no urge to correct my actions. 

I… I wished to stay and continue to feel as I did for as long as I could.

…

The days passed more quickly, as I spent more time with Calhoun. Bouts against monsters remained my purpose in life, with my constant battles to ensure they did not harm innocents taking me far and wide across the globe. They were… difficult. Each one tested my limits and drove me to the brink time and time again, as my power and ability grew, and I faced greater threats in accordance.

However, as time passed, it wasn’t my mission that drove me to rise up after suffering grievous blows, investigate impossible cases, or tackle ancient foes left alone for centuries out of fear. Instead the purpose I had all my life was steadily replaced by Calhoun and a simple cottage in the wilderness. I rose so that I could hear his voice and listen to another one of his stories. I drove myself to learn and uncover mysteries, so that I could give him stories in turn. I drew courage from the depths of my fear knowing that all the evils I faced would be ones that would no longer exist to threaten him. 

And, just as father promised, my family would know of any sins I committed and return me to the proper path.

The cottage was burning and Calhoun was gone.

Brother Lucas stood amidst the flames, clad in a great white coat, and with a wide-brimmed hat. 

“Annette, this obstacle to your mission has been removed.” His words were deep and almighty, just as they were when he faced me in the ring and struck me down again and again. The blows I endured in order to grow stronger, as he instructed me to correct mistake after mistake, should have turned my countenance to steel. In his presence, I could only be absolutely what was asked of me. “This is your first transgression, so it shall be forgiven. But do not test father’s will or my own. Your duty to fight against evil is paramount. No distraction is permitted. There is only duty.”

There is only duty.

Those are the words that should have left my lips.

They are the words I have lived by and been taught all my life.

Instead… the words that leave my lips are not those words.

“Where… where is he?” I did not recognize my own voice. There was a din within my ears that thundered over the crackling flames and even the sound of Brother Lucas taking a step back. I did not know why he did it. He must have been frightened by my voice, as much as I was. It held a deepness and darkness that begeted my true nature as a woman born of monsters. I tried to curtail it, because I could not speak to any of my family with such a terrible tone, but my efforts were to no avail… and my next words shook the snow from the branches of trees and had Brother Lucas fall to his back. His hat fell from his pale, shivering face, and his eyes were wide with fear. “Where is he!?”

“Away from here! We moved him away after putting him to sleep!” Brother Lucas’s words reached me, but they were lies. He always lied when his nose flared and ears twitched. He lied whenever he spoke about caring for me, when he said he didn’t wish to harm me, and when he wished that I would learn quickly, so I no longer needed to be harmed. They all lied. They were all liars who only wanted a weapon to elevate the status of their family. They are all people who would sacrifice their own daughter, force monsters upon her, so that their blood would course within an abomination that they could control through violence and force. “Annette, listen to me—

“I smell him. He’s burning.” Tears. I didn’t know I had any left, yet they flowed freely from my eyes, as I looked upon the flames and walked towards Brother Lucas’s form. He clambered backward, until turning upon all fours to try and rise and run. He left a warm trail upon the fallen snow, as he tried to escape. With two strides I was in front of him, before the only home I had. “You killed him… because he made me happy… because he cared for me… and because he was teaching me what affection meant.”

Useless words left Brother Lucas’s lips. His hands gripped at my leg. He pled of forgiveness, spoke of father’s orders, and tried many others means to evoke pity.

I lifted him by the neck with one hand, broke him, and threw him aside when I felt nothing from his words. 

Then, I walked towards the flames that ravaged my home.

They can’t harm me anymore, but I wished they could.

I wished that our last moments together would be surrounded by flame, as fell and burned beside him, and left ashes upon the only home I had.

Instead… instead… the Annette he knew and cared for would die with him and leave me behind. 

An unloved monster, but one that could now hate.

Hate enough to be greater and more terrible than all that came before it.