So, Lenna, between gasping breaths from their hike, filled the silence with her life’s story. If Merrick cared or was even listening, was hard to say. No responses or follow-up questions were aimed in her direction. He seemed to miss a step and stumble slightly when Lenna told him about the black gargoyle from her dream that tried to attack her, but with no other reaction, Lenna chalked it up to him tripping on one of the scattered rocks in their path.
Their feet met with the crunch of dirt, leading them to a road large enough for a carriage to meander down. They followed the well-worn trail for another half hour before reaching the first of the cottages.
From certain angles, Lenna could make out a sheen ofsomethingcovering the homes. When she asked her quiet companion, he grunted out that it was protection magic the townsfolks had recently enacted since they lived outside the hustle and bustle of the city limits itself. And then reminded her to keep walking.
Lenna didn’t see any of the cottages' inhabitants, save for a few cows grazing in wooden pens. And one very large rooster. The beastie would have come up to her hips if she stood near it. Between feathers of reddish brown, bright gold plumes dotted down its back, mirroring its curved golden beak. And almost as if the rooster could feel her stare, it turned and scowled at her. Lenna quickened her pace, almost tripping on Merrick’s heels to put as much distance as possible between her and the unnaturally large bird.
“It won’t eat you either,” Merrick chuckled tightly, as the massive beastie hopped over to the slattedwood fence, giving Lenna a defensive glare. “Fire Chickens only eat fleas, grass, and the occasional rabbit. No taste for Oracle flesh.”
Before Lenna could ask why it was called a Fire Chicken, the beastie let out a hoarse croak and a spurt of flame shot out of its beak. Lenna did collide with Merrick this time, but it didn’t knock him off kilter an inch. Merrick shot Lenna a bemused look as she struggled to righten herself. “I’ve seen your scrawny roosters in the Slate Kingdom, and honestly, I can’t believe youeatthose things.”
“You don’t eat Fire Chickens?” Lenna asked, as the beastie and its yard disappeared around a bend in the road.
“No, Fire Chickens are the best guards for a house to have. If you raise them from chicks, they will defend your home until their last breath. That one’s been there for decades. Sometimes, it will even follow its owner into town and hiss at people who get too close.”
“You live in Spinella?” Lenna looked around. The peaceful cottages had ivy curling up their stones, wooden doors that showcased intricate carvings of plants, vines, and animals, carefully painted in vivid hues. Colorful ceramic pots filled with budding flowers nestled between garden patches, and eruptions of well-maintained foliage were planted lovingly in yards next to the dirt path. It was very much the quaint country life. She couldn’t imagine the hulking man with grey horns, deadly looking wings, and the muscled body of a warrior fitting into this place.
Merrick sighed, “I did, a very,verylong time ago. I like to come back and visit now when I can. It’s peaceful here usually, and I have friends that still live in town. It’s definitely not as big as where you came from, but still has always been a home for me.”
It was Lenna’s turn to give him a chuckle back. “A very,verylong time? You don’t look older than twenty-five.”
White teeth flashed in another wicked grin. “Thank you. I’m actually one hundred and twelve.”
Lenna almost sat down in the dirt. “You’re joking with me,” she said flatly, looking him over again. The tanned skin, the lush brown hair, the beard just long enough to begin curling–no flecks of grey, no wrinkles–just muscle on every inch of his body and youth in his dark brown eyes.
“Nope.” Merrick shrugged. “In your land, humans age differently because there’s no magic. Here, once we hit a certain age, we don’t age past it for centuries. I’ve looked more or less the same since Iwasabout twenty-five.” He raised his eyebrows and side-eyed Lenna. “It’ll be the same for you, if you stay in a land of magic. I’ve seen humans reach five hundred. Granted, they’re wrinkly old crones once they reach three hundred, but it’s just the way the magic works. And magic affects everyone differently. With you being the new Oracle, too, who knows. The last Oracle was over eight hundred years old before his untimely death.”
Lenna’s knees did give out at that, and she did end up plopping down in the dirt. “Eight hundred,” she whispered, “I could live that long?” Merrick glanced down the road and then back at Lenna. Her hair had come unbound, and her curls framed her face. Gripping the edges of her cloak tighter to her body, she fought through her panicked emotions. Lenna wasn’t sure whether it was pain, or grief, or something…disbelieving, hoping. “I’ll be fifty-two in a month,” she finally said. Her eyes locked on Merrick as he stood over her.
Merrick snorted out a laugh, offering her his hand. “Then I’d say you are a very young lady.”
Chapter nine
Lenna
Gettingherlegsworkingagain was difficult. As Merrick waited on Lenna to take his hand, she noticed a thin, delicate golden ring on his finger.
It seemed such a jarringly odd piece of jewelry for the rugged gargoyle to have, that Lenna focused on it a beat longer, until her mind buzzed her back to the present with the knowledge that she was irrevocably changed. Down to her core. From magic imbued in these lands. Now, her life stretched out in front of her–seemingly endless and overwhelming.
With one last glance at the bright gold ring, Lenna reached up and gripped his hand. He hoisted her out of the dirt easily, before resuming his silent walk towards where-ever-he-said they were going.
As she brushed herself off, Lenna mulled over everything Merrick revealed, ruminating most on his comment about her new lifespan in a land of magic. If she was unhappy with how the last thirty years of her life played out… How was she supposed to fill the next seven hundred?
Merrick seemed quieter after their short conversation, the uneasy silence prompting Lenna to continue her monologue about her past life. She wasn’t going to walk for gods knew how long and bealone with her jumbled-up thoughts. As they trotted down the road, jovial music began trickling towards them. Lenna could make out tall, dark stone walls in the distance, an obvious confirmation that they were nearing some sort of civilized town.
As a thought niggled to the forefront of her restless mind, Lenna caught up to Merrick, hurrying her steps as she fell into place beside his brisk walk. “How long were you watching me in Doortan?”
Merrick raised an eyebrow, his brown hair swinging into his face with the movement. He met her eyes briefly before replying, “A while.”
“Days? Weeks?” Lenna pushed, continuing to match Merrick’s long strides.
Merrick sighed, looking back towards the city sprawled in front of them, before admitting, “About a month.”
Lenna slowed.A month. Her headaches had started a month ago, right when Merrick began watching her. Merrick, realizing she had once again fallen behind, slowed his steps. “Why’d you stop?”
Shaking her head, Lenna plastered a fake smile on her face. “Nothing. I just feel like you could’ve saved us both some trouble by announcing your presence sooner, rather than later.” It was an uneasy feeling, knowing that Merrick had been in Doortan for a month. She wondered if the gargoyle had been privy to the tears that she shed, the sadness she had been encapsulated in, the nights she woke in a cold sweat from her nightmares. She wondered why, now, he bought her here.
Was it a test?
