Hazel - First Meeting (Patreon)

Viewing the world through a constructs eyes did not do it justice. Hazel had always been very aware of the limitations her magic provided. While she could travel through the streets through a body made of sticks and twigs, she could see and feel very little.  Yet, it was a comfort in a way. Knowing that if someone did say something, or if someone tried to do something, the effects would be dulled. Hazel herself would wake back up in the safety of her apothecary, feeling drained, but still safe.  It was a small concession that got her through her day.

It wasn’t that Hazel didn’t like people. She very much did, in fact. It was the unpredictable nature of people that bothered her. The unpredictable nature of the market, in the end.  But the market couldn’t get to her here. She used to think that the apothecary was separate. Its own little dimension somewhere.  The stretch of land she called her own had attached itself to the end of the market and had existed there without complaint. It was of course a fairy tale that she only told herself.  But when the panic filled her throat, it helped calm her down.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the stairwell. It had been two days since her newcomer had arrived at the shop.  They had mostly slept.  Hazel had peeked in on them from time to time, casting protection through the room, allowing them a dreamless sleep.  Their body was still healing and while Hazel didn’t know exactly who this person was, she did know that most of the time, a hurt body didn’t know when to slow down.

“You’re up,” she chirped.

They looked startled, their eyes skittering around the room until they landed on her.

Hazel felt her stomach clench and her breath freeze in her chest. They were so beautiful. Or handsome. She supposed a person could be any. Either way, standing there bedraggled and half asleep, Hazel couldn’t help but think about how perfect they were.

It had been the first thing she thought when she had seen them, scared and alone.

It could have been an act. It had been numerous times before.

So who was to really blame her for casting a premonition charm to make sure that this soul wasn’t about to cause her harm?

Clearing her throat, Hazel gathered her skirts and went towards the back counter. The charm had settled. The puff of smoke dissipating. It wouldn’t be long now.

“I have some food over there if you’re hungry.”

There hadn’t been, of course. She had quickly flicked her fingers and filled the table with enough bread and cheese to cover the expanse of it, along with a large pot of tea that would change to whatever they liked upon drinking it. For some reason, that excited her the most. She desperately wanted to see what kind of tea they enjoyed. Hazel could tell a lot about a person given their tea preferences.

“How long have I been out?”

“Two days.”

“What?!”

Hazel took a step back. She probably should have handled that a bit more delicately. Sometimes she forgot that people needed a bit of time. That news needed to be broken gently to them.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “You obviously needed your rest. And who could blame you after everything you’ve gone through? Now, please. Eat.”

There was a warm sense of pleasure that washed over her as they went to the table and began gathering some food onto their plate. Hazel bounced on her toes as a pleased expression crossed their lips at the first bite of bread.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” they were saying.

She didn’t do much of anything really. And if they were already showing such joy at food that was conjured, Hazel could not wait to bake something with her own hands. They didn’t know bliss until they had a slice of Hazel’s homemade sourdough with fresh harvested honey.

“It was no problem at all,” she answered.  “I just finished filling my orders.”

Hazel watched them closely as she went to sit by their side. There was something different about them. Hazel had helped many refugees during her days. She had sold tinctures and tonics to a good portion of the market.  To say she was familiar with a wide walk of life was an understatement. But this one, this individual, was something so much more.

Hazel couldn’t put her finger on it.

Already, there was such a draw.  One that she wanted to explore. Hazel had very little experience in life with any sort of close and personal relationships. A few near misses in the past. A couple of encounters that she thought she had wanted but ended up walking away from in the end. Being the daughter of the very woman who nearly burned down the market, didn’t make for a lot of friendly faces to appear in her life.

But this one….

It was the way they looked at the world around them. As if they unconsciously could see so much more. They had a willingness to believe in what they could not see and a kindness that Hazel could feel like a gentle wind upon her cheeks.

Whoever this stranger was, they were pure. They were good. They were here for a purpose that would sweep Hazel up into a tumbling rush of emotion and joy that she didn’t wish to shy away from. For the first time she wanted to dive headlong into that chaos and relish in what it had to offer.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay awake to help with all this.”

The words startled her out of her reverie as she looked at them once again.  Flashes of holding them. Being held by them. Lazy mornings lying on the couch upstairs while the wisps hummed them into wakefulness.  Long herbal baths with roses and wandering hands. The world singing around them.

Clearing her throat, Hazel gave them a smile. “Milo was a trooper and helped out last night.”

Whoever this was, they were hers.  Hazel could already see it. Could already feel it. And her heart felt giddy for the future that was about to unfold.