B1 Chapter 10: Rain

Moving a drunk, fat horse was a lot harder than either of them had suspected, especially since she didn’t really want to go. Twice, Gwendolyn planted her hooves in the mud and swayed like a collapsing barn, forcing both of them to shove against her broad shoulder to keep her upright before she tipped over entirely. It was still raining outside, and convincing her to leave had cost Modivar a barrel of carrots that he didn’t actually have. He suspected that if Gwendolyn remembered in the morning, he would be in trouble. But with the amount of booze she had consumed, it was unlikely he would be held to it. He might still consider paying the debt anyway, because he had made a promise, and Modivar always kept his promises. Behind him, Gwendolyn attempted to walk in the opposite direction. Toward what she had decided was a far more interesting shrub, and he had to grab her mane and drag her back before she wandered into the dark.

Belladonna looked at him and said, “Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea, drunk horse and all, but it was still a pretty good night.”

“Yeah, it was,” Modivar said. “Thank you for that. I appreciate it.”

Gwendolyn stumbled sideways into him at that exact moment, nearly knocking him into the mud. He caught her face with both hands and steadied her while she blinked at him with slow, confused dignity.

“Think nothing of it,” Belladonna said as she walked ahead of him and twirled in the rain.

She had chosen a white shirt from his drawer, and the rain caught it in a way that made her difficult to look at. Behind them, Gwendolyn tried to lower herself into what she apparently believed was a comfortable puddle. Belladonna clapped her hands sharply and waved her arms until the horse reluctantly remained standing. She glanced back at Modivar and said, “You’re not really good with the ladies, are you?”

“Why would you say that?” Modivar asked. “I have had my share of encounters with fair maidens such as yourself. I would say that you are probably the fairest that I have encountered in quite some time, if not ever.” He whispered the last part under his breath.

“Oh, thank you, but you just seem so stiff every time you see a bit of skin, and I mean that literally.”

He looked at her, eyes aghast, then looked down at himself and back up again. She smiled and said, “I made you look.”

He laughed. “Yeah, you’re good at that.”

“Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing.” She hesitated, then continued, “Can you tell me what’s really going on with you? Because you seem really depressed. I overheard you talking to Gwendolyn in your kitchen when I came down the stairs earlier.”

Modivar stiffened and said, “You heard that.”

Gwendolyn hiccupped loudly and attempted to nip at Belladonna’s sleeve. She missed entirely and nearly face-planted into the wet road. Modivar grabbed her mane and hauled her upright again with a tired sigh.

“That’s why I forced you to come out with me,” Belladonna said. “I felt bad.”

He straightened up. “I don’t need your pity. Thank you for your time. I will take my horse and go home. You have a good night.”

“Wait,” Belladonna said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I am not great with words. You and Gwendolyn are probably the only other classers in this entire county. There are not many people I can talk to about what that means.”

“You could join the Heroes Guild,” Modivar said. “They would be more than happy to take you and help you ‘fix your class.’” He made small air quotes with his fingers.

“Wouldn’t they,” Belladonna said. “But I do not want to fix my class. I like it the way it is. Even if I went dark, I would rather choose that myself than have someone else dictate what I can do with it.”

“I cannot relate,” Modivar said. “I joined the Heroes Guild when I was younger, mostly out of family obligation. My class is light-aligned, so there was never pressure to alter its direction.”

“I figured as much,” Belladonna said. “Your magic seems sparkly and bright for someone who seems so depressed.”

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“Well, thank you for that,” Modivar said dryly.

“I am not trying to be off-putting,” Belladonna said. “I am just talking. You do not need to be so defensive.”

“Lady, I do not know you,” Modivar said. “You barely know me. We met today. I do not even know how long I was unconscious. I have known my horse longer than you, and she is drunk because of you.”

“Hey, you agreed to let her drink.”

As if summoned by the accusation, Gwendolyn lifted her head proudly, then swayed in a slow arc that forced Belladonna to brace both hands against the horse’s flank to keep her from toppling.

“That is fair,” Modivar admitted. “I would like to get to know everyone in this village, but it has been difficult. I am going home to a destroyed shop that I have to clean. I have to deal with gnomes you threatened into fixing my roof, and I still do not understand what you threatened them with. Even your best friend says you are scary. I am concerned about what it will cost me to be your friend.”

“Do not mind Millie,” Belladonna said.

Gwendolyn abruptly stopped walking and stared into the darkness with intense suspicion, then began trudging toward a fence that didn’t belong to them. Modivar groaned and tugged her back into line.

“She calls me whatever she wants because she is my best friend,” Belladonna continued. “She is protective. She uses that forward nature to push people away when she needs to. She is a sweetheart. She means well. She seems to like you.”