I sat alone inside the girls' house.
I tried to write. Really, I did.
But I looked at the chaos around me and then at the pages.
I couldn't concentrate in this place.
The house wasn't a house anymore - just storage. Herbs, rocks, fungi, bones, vials, powders, crystals, scraps of bark, and unidentifiable… things the girls had dragged in.
Every surface was full. Every crate was full. Every drawer was full. My room was packed so tightly I could barely crack the door without risking an avalanche.
It reminded me - in an unpleasant way - of those TV shows where people lived in houses stacked to the ceiling with newspapers and half-broken stuff and sentimental trash from decades ago. Hoarders.
It felt like living with hoarders.
They must have thought I was deep in experiments to solve the poison debacle.
I sighed, snapped the book shut, and leaned back in my chair.
I needed to clean this place. Or I just wanted to postpone writing something.
Storage. I needed storage.
But how would I get it?
I heard footsteps from outside.
But I froze.
They weren't ones I recognized.
They were heavy and slow.
Too deliberate an approach.
This late at night? In the woods?
I stood up. This was a horror movie scenario.
Then came the knock.
Not timid. Not gentle. A solid thump-thump-thump.
What the hell?
Knocking on this door wasn't normal. Not at all.
I turned to the large, heavy trunk at the corner of the room and opened it.
My paladin armor manifested around me in plates of white steel, shifting and locking into place. The helmet formed last to cover my face. And just like always, the armor's height lifted me, making me tall and imposing.
The floorboards creaked under my weight.
I moved to the door slowly, not wanting the floorboards to betray my exact steps.
Another knock.
I reached out and pulled the door open.
A woman stood there.
One I had never seen before.
She looked middle-aged, her hair tied back in a rough bun, and her face was round - not soft, but sturdy. She was a little chubby, but her arms were thick with the kind of strength people earned by blue-collar work - not working out.
The woman jerked back the instant she saw me.
Not a scream - just a full-body jolt, like she had braced herself for someone but definitely not me.
Her hand even twitched toward her chest, as if to steady her heartbeat.
"…Oh," she breathed out. "Oh, you - You're their father. You're Cepheus."
That startled me as much as my appearance startled her.
"I heard you were impressive," she muttered, half to herself. "But I didn't expect - well. Not this."
I said nothing.
She cleared her throat, suddenly remembering why she was standing here. "I - I brought a few things. For the girls. Supplies they might want." She lifted the small crate in her arms as proof.
Her voice was steady enough, but her eyes kept darting - nervous and unsure.
"Oh, where are my manners? My name is Maybelle Sweet."
I stepped forward slightly.
"You must be wondering how I know them," she said. "It must be a very strange thing for me to be here, especially at this time of night."
She adjusted her grip on the crate. "You see, about a year ago… your girls saved my life. I was a traveler and had been kidnapped. Bandits. A rough group - they'd been sweeping through the eastern passes, picking everyone they could find clean." Even though it was a hard memory for her to recount, I saw a kind of iron resilience in her. "I was helpless. I thought they were going to kill me." And then, softer: "But your girls walked straight into that camp and dealt with them."
That sounded like them.
"They cut me loose and fought off the men like it was nothing. Like they'd done it a hundred times before." She shook her head, still baffled even a year later. "I should have been terrified of them… but I wasn't."
Her eyes warmed with memory, gentler now.
"Afterward, we traveled together for a short while. They told me bits of their story - about where they came from, the life they lived, you." Her gaze flickered back to the armor. "I didn't believe all of it, not then… but seeing how strong, strange, and gifted they were…" She gave a small shake of her head. "It was hard to doubt."
She smiled faintly. "They brought me to Endil. I've lived there ever since. Saw them a few times in town, here and there. They were always in a rush, always working, always disappearing before I could talk much. But last week, I finally got the chance. They told me they'd lived here. In the Hronaya Forest. With their father."
"I - well, I wanted to see them again," she said. "To get closer to them, if they'd let me. They saved my life. You don't forget something like that."
She looked down at the crate, then back up at me.
"So… here I am."
I didn't know what to say.
"I… I'm aware of you, Maybelle," I lied.
Her eyes brightened, as if that mattered to her more than it should.
"I would invite you in," I said. "But as you can see" - I gestured into the house.
"This is, uh…" she began delicately.
"A work in progress," I said quickly. "I've been… busy."
Very convincing. Excellent delivery.
"I can see that. You must be doing something important."
"I am," I said. "Quite."
I suddenly became aware of how ridiculous this situation was. I needed to be more assertive. More prophet-like. Someone who drives the story.
"The girls aren't here. They're out on an errand."
"Ah." Maybelle nodded slowly. "They always seemed like hard workers."
"They are." I folded my arms, and with a little spark of pride I didn't expect to feel, I added, "And after days of work… I finally have what I need."
"Truly?"
"Yes." I let a bit of dramatic weight hang in the air. If I was going to be their mysterious and powerful father figure, I might as well commit. "An antidote."
Her breath hitched, and if I didn't know better, I'd say she looked impressed.
Okay. This is good. I am intimidating, mysterious, and capable. Perfect.
I exhaled. "With the house being cramped, let's sit outside."
"Yes," she said instantly. "Let's do that."
The forest was dark, still, and filled with the quiet buzzing of night insects and the soft rustle of leaves overhead.
Maybelle held the crate and set it down next to her as she sat on a stump that served as a chair.
I lit a fire in the usual place for the campfire with a spell.
She looked at me for a moment - really looked - and the nervousness slowly softened into something else. Respect? Curiosity? I didn't know.
"I'm glad I came," she said. "I wasn't sure if I should. I didn't want to intrude."
"You're not intruding," I said.
Her face warmed. "Your girls… they speak of you like you hung the moon."
"Children always look up to their parents," I managed to say as a warmth spread through me.
Maybelle smiled, small and genuine, and for a moment the quiet crackle of the fire made it easy to pretend this wasn't a problem. But it was.
I thought that this was kind of a microcosm where just the girls and I could play out my little play.
A normal woman. Townsfolk. Someone who should never have a reason to walk straight into the Hronaya Forest at night, find the right trail, reach the girls' hidden home, and knock politely on the door like this was a friendly neighborhood visit.
This wasn't good. Not at all. This was supposed to be a sanctuary for my story - and a safe place for the girls.
I shifted in my armor, the steel plates catching the firelight. "Maybelle," I said carefully. "I must ask you to keep silent about this place. Don't tell anyone where we are. I am serious about this."
Should I move the girls? Trap the forest, maybe? Tell her a half-truth to keep her distant? Or trust her, because anyone the girls saved and who owed their lives to them couldn't be entirely bad?
"Of course. I don't know what you're doing, but if the girls keep on doing what they're doing, then it must be important."
"Thank you. You see, this place is… meant to stay quiet. Hidden. Kept apart from the world for me to work."
A moment passed, and she asked, "This antidote? Is the antidote for one of them? Are they sick?"
I shook my head. "Not one of them."
"Oh."
A beat passed.
"I don't want to burden you with the knowledge," I said.
I wondered if she would bite. Saying something like that made people more curious than they were before.
She shifted. "Well… if there is anything else I can do to help, I'll be glad to. I owe your girls my life. And by extension… I owe you too."
So I nodded - slow, calm, and regal.
"Thank you, Maybelle."