“I will be with you. I am always with you, Emig. I love you so much... I will love you so much. Await me, at our secret place. One day, you will know where that is and you will tell little me that I spoke of it to you and I won’t believe you... But, now, I remember not believing it.”
"Xan, what does ‘Emig’ mean?"
“It is Sindarin. As ‘Amil’ is Mother, or Female Parent, ‘Emig’ would be used by a smaller child... ‘Mommy’, I suppose. It is used also towards a mother-like female.”
…
These were the words running through Finchley’s mind over and over again as she and her companions approached a modest sized farming village in the northern part of Breeland. Finchley’s childhood hometown consisted of many small houses and fences that were spread wide amongst sloping hills, tilled farmland, and areas of densely growing trees. It was an obviously peaceful place, free from unordinary troubles, or so it was thought by its inhabitants for many years. A few children ran down paths here and there, shrieking and laughing as they played with abandon, heedless of who heard or saw them.
The sight caused Finchley to smile warmly. They reminded her so much of herself at that age, when she too had played with the boys of the village along these very same paths. Some things never changed, no matter how much time had passed. She hadn’t been her for years, having left after selling the house she and her Grams used to live in and never coming back, but she still remembered her way around like the back of her hand.
Eventually, she led her companions up a path towards a house situated upon a small hill overlooking the rest of the village at the base of a small cliffside. The house looked small and more weathered than she remembered it being, though, there was proof of occupancy as she noted the flower boxes at the windows and laundry hanging on a line.
"It’s quiet," remarked Xandilif. "Too quiet."
"I know she’s still here," said Finchley as she paused, looking towards the door. "She always liked her flowers."
While she was somewhat put at ease by being in a familiar place, despite her objectives and current situation, her companions did not share that same feeling. Eduwiges moved to the eastern side of the house, bow drawn and arrow already nocked, just in case. Ryn and Nethrida stuck nearby each other, hands resting near their weapons and looking very ill at ease. Addiela turned towards Rollo, her bear companion, and Morn, her raven, that she had brought along with her and gestured for them to keep watch. Both animals acquiesced and moved to the side, out of immediate sight but not far away in the slightest.
"... I'll go knock I suppose," remarked Finchley, moving towards small steps that led to the door of the house. But, before she could even reach them, the door opened and a plainly dressed old woman with white hair and brown eyes stepped and out with a raised brow. The old woman peered at the entire group with the squinting gaze of a shrew and then, after a moment of quiet suspense, looked to Finchley with a familiar smirk.
"Well, well, well! If it isn't Finchley! You look more like a lad than you ever did afore!... Don't tell me you've gotten yourself in with more of those adventurers like that one that came through all the time with the ridiculous mustache."
Finchley smiled in response as her nose twitched a little in amusement. She settled her hands on her hips and raised a brow at the old woman in return. "Hello to you, too, Missus Lind. You do know his name is Mister Dewitt, aye?"
Missus Lind tutted and rolled her eyes. "Dewitt. Blewitt... I'll have you know that your little escapades with him weren't hidden from me, oh no they were not! Good thing too, or else your grandmother would have thrown an absolute fit. Now what've you to say for yourself, hmm?" She peered over at Finchley’s companions at the woman smacked herself in the head lightly. No doubt everyone in the village would have much to hear about the return of Finchley soon enough. Gossip waited for no one.
Finchley shook her head and cut the old woman off before she could continue. "Only this, Missus Lind... I need to ask you about Moyna." The old woman paused and her smirk rapidly disappeared from her face. She opened her mouth again, as if to make a quick answer, but Finchley smiled and held up a finger. "Oh, no, I know perfectly well your son has gone south. You can't use the excuse that he needs help with something again."
The old gossip shook her head vaguely and crossed her arms in front of her. "And why would you want to know something like that, Finchley? What makes you think I know anything about a Moyna?"
Finchley stepped forward again until she stopped at the foot of the stairs and took both of Missus Lind’s hands in her own. "... Because the Missus Lind I know knows absolutely everythin'. And was a good neighbor to me and Grams. And would be doin' me a kindness for it... And will get to say as much about me as she likes later to anyone and everyone at market too."
The old woman seemed to take her time considering that statement. While she might have been easily tempted by the idea of freely being allowed to gossip to her heart’s content, something she considered her one sole joy in her lonely old age, she looked somewhat conflicted. Missus Lind turned her gaze to the rest of the group, as if to stall for time. "... Tell me, ridiculous adventurers, does this one still eat like a horse?"
“If the horse ain’t quick, she'll eat it too,” teased Xandilif and Finchley turned her head over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at the Banshee.
Missus Lind chuckled and shook her head. "Of course, she does. Did you know I once found her out by the well with my son, gorged on an entire three blueberry pies? Three!"
Finchley sighed and turned back to Missus Lind, who was now clearly enjoying herself.
She took her hands again and shook her head. "That was years ago. But this is now... Please, Missus Lind, tell me what you know of Moyna. Tell me about my Grams. I know you know."
Missus Lind looked conflicted again, shifting her weight back and forth. After an abominably long moment of hesitation and some hemming and hawing, she finally sighed tiredly, looking more her age for once, and nodded. "Always the persistent one, aren't you? And so was she when she wanted to be... Very well. Come here, boy-girl. I'm old and tired and I'm not standing for you." She moved to sit on the steps to her house, groaning a little as her old bones protested the movement. "So, Finchley, you little scamp... What do you want to know? Shall I start from the beginning? Mind you, I'll not be judged for this. I kept her secrets for years against my better judgement. But she's gone, so, I don't have to anymore."
Finchley nodded to that suggestion and settled in, standing beside the steps and waiting patiently for the woman to speak. Her companions drew nearer, though they still remained on guard; tense with worry that their foes might be lurking nearby but curious to see what truths of Moyna, The Banished Witch of Aughaire, would unfold before them.
The aged woman sighed again and shook her head, expression belying her resignation to speak. "When I was a girl, younger than you are now, I was sent out to fetch water from the stream. This was before they dug the well... It was a cool night in autumn. On my way back, I took a shortcut off the path because I wanted to be home. The house where you lived, that used an old shack. I was hurrying back when I saw a woman, dark of hair and eye. She was wandering around the shack, chanting like someone stark raving mad, with some odd stones in her hand. I saw her and she saw me. And I did what any girl with good sense would back then. I ran home to tell my parents."
"Mad, huh?" remarked Xandilif and the old woman looked toward her to regard her curiously before continuing on.
"But, here's the thing, Miss Finch... When I got home and told my parents, all aflutter at what I saw, they merely said to me, 'Oh, the old woman who lives out by the trees in the shack? She's always been there. You're too old for such games.' "
"Not just wards... Perception Glamours," the Banshee laughed softly to herself.
"To this very day, you ask anyone here still living from back then and they will tell you much the same. I thought I was going mad. But I know myself to be a thoroughly respectable and intelligent woman, if I do say so myself. Madness is not for me. So, I did the only thing a sensible and intelligent girl would do back then. I went to go see her."
Finchley nodded once, expression serious. She seemed to be turn these things over in her mind, lining up pieces where bits of information coincided with each other.
"She saw me and I saw her," Missus Lind continued on. "And so, I asked her to tell me who she was and what she was doing here, or I'd go to the next village over and tell them a madwoman came here and bewitched everyone. She liked that not at all and threatened to turn me into a newt! But I'll have you know that I was not going to be bullied by a madwoman… I was a very convincing lass back in the day, I'll also have you know. So, I told her to give me at least a name and allow me to come to the shack again and I would not tell a soul, though I much wanted to."
\Addie moved towards Nethrida and whispered to her in a hushed manner of the possible locations of the wards and odd stones about Finchley’s childhood home, if they were still there at all. Missus Lind smiled as she was caught up in her tale-telling and looked far too proud of herself as she spoke on.
"That did the trick! She told me her name was Moyna and that I could come again. But not too close or she'd hit me with a spoon for good measure. So, I did just that. I came again and again and watched her fix up that old shack. Within a year she had it looking livable at least. And no one here questioned it at all. I would come at least thrice a week. And when she was done, I began to ask her questions. At first, she didn't answer. Not one peep! But, as you know, I am very convincing. Finally, she gave in and told me that she came from a terrible place and just wanted to live in peace and quiet and if I asked her anymore questions, she'd turn me into a frog."
Addiela couldn’t help but scoff at that. "Summon perhaps. But, turn a person into one?"
Missus Lind shook her head, expression looking a little more somber now. "So that was that. I would come to her home and watch her go about her peaceful life, avoiding other neighbors unless she had to speak with them out of necessity. I asked her no more questions. Years passed. I got married. And then my husband died the following year. And by then I was already carrying my son."
Finchley frowned and rested a compassionate hand upon the old gossip’s shoulder. "I’m sorry…"
The old woman peered up at Finch and then snorted, waving off her concern in the manner that old folks did when they didn’t want to look as feeble as they were. "Pah! It was a difficult pregnancy. And when it came time to have him, it was a difficult birth. I remember through the haze that my mother said I was going to die. Much pain, much blood. But I remember seeing her there. Moyna… When I awoke with my son in my arms, healthy as anything, my mother told me that the old woman saved my life and that of my son, though she was not sure how. One minute I was failing and the next I was bringing my son into the world with ease. After that, she retreated and did not come from her house as often when I came calling... Until one night in summer..."
"One night?" Finchley asked as Xandilif nodded behind her, mind filling in the gaps with the information they had learned from the child shade at Moyna’s grave.
Missus Lind sighed yet again and rested a wrinkled hand upon Finchley's. "... I had gone out my door to bring her some of the last of the flowers I had grown before the summer sun wilted them completely... But when I came to her house, someone else was there on the doorstep. A man, skinny and ragged, carrying a small bundle. I thought he was a thief. So, I yelled at him to chase him away. We wanted no thieves in this village. This is not Bree-town, after all."
Finchley’s brows furrowed and she gripped the hands held in her own a little tighter, mindful of their fragility. The old woman began to look conflicted again but eventually continued on.
"Moyna swore me to secrecy over this. But she's gone and I can say as I like... The man saw me and panicked. He dropped the bundle to Moyna's doorstep and ran away as I intended far off and out of the area, quick as anything. I chased after him a little to make sure he had really gone. When I came back, Moyna had finally opened her door. I merely watched her for a moment, half-afraid that, if I came closer, she would close her door again. But, she didn't. She picked up that bundle and I could see a small hand sticking out from it and heard voice chattering away in the way that children do when they don't have all the words yet… I came closer so I could see what she was holding. It was a child, no older than perhaps one or two. It was just as raggedly clad as the man had been. Skinny as well. Hair looking like it had been hastily and unevenly snipped short. Eyes green. A little boy... Well, at least that is what both of us thought at the time."
Finchley just stood there, staring at Missus Lind as realization dawned on her, expression unreadable as her eyes became somewhat glassy. Missus Lind reached up to rest a hand upon Finchley's shoulder and smiled in a rare moment of honest compassion.
"Moyna did not come out from her house for weeks, even when I came calling. But, eventually she opened the door again one day and said that a little girl named Finchley had come to live with her... And no one here questioned it. And... that little girl grew bigger and became the biggest chatterbox in all of Breeland! And ate far more than any child had a right to. And got up to so much mischief and looked more like a lad than anything else. A very odd girl. But one I liked to talk often of. Your little escapades made for good conversation, boy-girl."
Finchley smiled a little and raised a hand to wipe at her eyes to prevent more tears from falling. She felt that she had cried enough in recent days. "... Missus Lind, that night that the man came to our house... What direction did he run in? Do you remember at all?"
Missus Lind opened her mouth to respond when a sharp TWANG! echoed from far off.
Something darted through the air at lightning speed, cutting across the side of Finchley's cheek, and burying itself into the old woman’s chest with a horrifying crunch and thunk!
The old woman's body jerked backwards and her eyes closed as she slumped and then fell across the steps to her home, dead, with a black arrow protruding from her heart.
(to be continued in "What the Neighbor Knew - The Second and Final Part")
