Once again I stood alone with Plumb. Though this time not in the church and instead in her own home.

She lived with another sister, but she was currently elsewhere. I wasn’t sure where, and I had no intention to find out.

It was time I left. Fly and I were packed, and Fly was in fact waiting at her home for me to come get her. We’d be gone shortly.

“Well Vim, your stay was short but that’s usually a good sign,” Plumb said.

“Yes. The few requests were simple. I’ve also drafted a small letter for Brandy for your new fence. Prasta’s mother is also working on the design,” I said.

“Must have tickled her math fancy,” Plumb said with a chuckle.

I nodded. It had.

“Prasta’s mother… hm… I’ve not thought of that poor girl in some time. Prasta never even speaks of her,” Plumb said softly.

Shrugging gently, I didn’t feel like commenting on that. I had not said such a thing on purpose to cause such thoughts or spark such a conversation.

“Prasta’s Prasta. How is she?” Plumb asked after a moment.

“Fine. She’s still at the Crypt.”

Plumb nodded. “Yes. With Abel,” she said as she thought about them.

Or well… maybe she was simply remembering things she’d forgotten. It was hard to tell.

“Plumb we’ll be leaving now,” I said, both to remind her and also to end this conversation.

She nodded slowly, still lost in her thoughts and half-remembered memories. “Travel well. May you find a new home for the young bird swiftly, and with ease,” Plumb said.

I nodded as I turned and left. “Farewell.”

Leaving the elder’s house, I exited into a wet world of light rain. It was a sprinkle shower, and honestly felt good. Both for how it was a tad warm, yet cold, but also how it kept everyone else indoors.

Though I supposed they would have all stayed in their homes this morning all the same. They all knew Fly was leaving, and would have done their best to not be seen or noticed during such a moment.

Fly wasn’t being banished, but she may as well be.

“Stupid,” I mumbled the only opinion I’d allow myself to share aloud as I went to Fly’s home. Or at least, her previous one.

I found the front door open, and her standing just beyond it. She had three small bags and was covered in a very thick coat. One perfect to hide her features, even from someone up close, and keep her warm and dry during this rainy season.

“You ready Fly?” I asked gently as I stepped into the house.

She nodded and glanced up at me. Her heavy and large hood almost made it impossible for her to do so, she had to tug on it a little as to meet my eyes.

“I’m ready Vim,” she said.

I nodded back and bent down to gather up her bags.

Three small bags. Light ones. Mostly full of simply items, or clothes.

Far from the amount of stuff she should have.

“I can carry some,” she offered as I secured the bags onto my back and shoulders.

“It’s fine. Are you sure this is all you want to bring Fly? We could get horses if you wanted,” I asked again, one last time.

She shook her head, though her hood barely moved. Hopefully the heavy and thick cloth wouldn’t hurt her by bending or breaking feathers. “No. It’s fine. Let Limb have this place,” she said, telling me the same thing she had said the last few times I’d asked.

I nodded slowly, though wanted to argue. She should have at least taken more personal affects. They had been made for her. Given to her by the village. She shouldn’t have three bags but three trunks of stuff, at least.

But I knew her reasoning. I’d encountered it before. Many times.

When people had to flee their homes, or abandon them… and more importantly also when they were forced out of them, they usually left everything they could. Not just out of necessity, but out of emotion.

The more they took, the more they would be reminded of what they had lost. The more they clung to the harder it was for them.

There was a strange sense of relief in just upping and going. To leave everything behind and start anew. I’d done it many times myself.

“Then let us be off,” I said gently.

“Mhm!” she nodded, and sounded a little happy too. I was glad to hear it.

I had mistakenly asked last night if she wanted to say goodbye to anyone before we left. That had made her sad. Had almost made her cry.

I’d not do it again.

Stepping out of the house, I smiled at Fly as she slowly followed me out.

Shutting the front door behind her, I noticed her slight startle at the sound. She turned a little, and I wondered if the thick coat distorted sounds weirdly to her and bothered her, or if she was simply on edge and stressed. Likely both. The more non-human types had heightened senses, like Renn, and were usually too sensitive to them. Especially loud noises.

Patting the young bird gently on the back, I smiled down at her as she tried to once again look up at me. She grumbled at herself after another failed attempt and simply reached up to take her hood off.

Feathers popped out, likely puffed out from frustration over the hood, and she smirked up at me. “Where we going?” she asked.

“Well for now we’re leaving the Bell Church,” I reminded her.

“Well… yeah? But I mean where next?” she asked. “Are we going back to that strange smelling woman? Or Lumen?” she asked as we stepped away from the house.

I nodded at the young bird who thankfully seemed upbeat. And didn’t seem to be trying to be so on purpose, either.

Hopefully she was either too young, or predator-minded enough to not be deeply bothered by what was happening.

She had wept, several times, but was now speaking calmly as we left. Though that might change soon, once we truly leave. Renn for instance didn’t cry in front of others, at least tried really hard to. She tried to do so out of sight, either the night before we left or as we traveled away a few hours later while alone on the road.

“We’ll be heading north for a short time. Then west. For now I’m going to have you accompany me, since I need to check on Renn. She’s doing something important and I worry for her,” I said.

“We’re going to go see Renn?” Fly asked loudly, almost a shout.

I blinked as I smiled at the happy girl, and then realized something terrible.

If I took her to Renn, after her being forced to move from her home…

Not good. What if she latched onto Renn, and Renn to her in return, and then I can’t find her a new home?

“Yes. We’re headed to some friends. Friends who are in fact birds, kind of like you,” I said gently.

“Really!” Fly found that even more exciting, and I felt horrible.

I should have realized it sooner. Renn already cared deeply for the girl, to the point she had almost demanded she accompany me here to pick her up. If Cat, that human woman, hadn’t been someone she had to worry about she likely would have.

Though the true reason I felt horrible was not the fact I might have made a small error, but that I had regretted making it in the first place.

It was wrong to not want Fly and Renn happy. It was terrible of me to think it was an annoyance that Fly might try to latch onto Renn, and try to ask to stay with her instead of find a new home.

Terrible of me indeed.

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The walk through the village was a somber one, but at least not terribly quiet and unsettling. The rain and light wind from the storm helped keep the world not feel as empty as it suddenly felt. It gave me time to chastise myself for my own shortcomings as both a man, a husband, and a protector. Or well, not enough time I guess. I likely needed many lifetimes to properly assess such personality flaws and failures, and then who knows how long to address and fix them…

Not long after passing the last building, a small shed like building that held a well for nearby farm animals, Fly and I stepped off the proper paths of the Bell Church village and onto normal grass and dirt. The path ended, and wouldn’t return until we were several hours away from the village and through the forest.

As we entered the dense forest that surrounded the village, leaving the Bell Church behind us, Fly did something I had somewhat expected to happen.

She had reached out to take my hand.

Taking her hand, I carefully held the little hand that was kind of cold to the touch. It seemed like most birds she was prone to low temperatures if not kept warm. I’ll need to make sure to keep her warm then, especially as the world got colder and colder as we both headed farther north and the winter set in.

“While traveling with me, please let me know when you get hungry. Or cold, or tired. I’m a little unobservant sometimes,” I asked of her.

“Hm? I’m cold now,” she said.

I smiled and nodded. “I can feel that. Did your clothes and feathers get wet?” I asked.

“No. I’m rather dry. This heavy jacket is really nice!” she said as she patted her chest, thumping the thick coat as she did.

I nodded. I had made it a few nights ago for her. From tanned leather and an under layer of half a dozen soft mink pelts, with a thick layer of down feathers between the two. The coat was actually one of the nicest things I’d made in a while, honestly.

I should make one for Renn too. She was not as susceptible to the weather as most of our members, like Fly was, but winter was still winter. And it seemed we might be spending some time in the north during this year’s winter too, which will expose her to the colder and harsher elements. Not just snow and cold but sleet and permafrost. Blizzards.

“How far is Renn?” Fly asked, no longer caring about how she was a little chilly even with her own insulation and the coat.

“From here…?” I pondered it for a moment. I knew it took me a little under a week to get there, but that was at my pace. The pace I used when alone. With Fly it would be far slower. Slower even than when I traveled with Renn.

“Maybe two weeks, at most,” I decided.

“That’s far,” she said softly.

I nodded. “It is. We need to round those mountains. There’s a huge peak past those ones we need to round, it’s too high to cross over,” I said. Too high for her at least. Particularly in the winter. “Then we’ll cross through some flatlands and forests. I might stop at a few locations along the way, depends on the weather and our time,” I added.

“Locations?” she asked.

“Society locations. Little villages, or singular homes. One’s a place called Twin Hills, one of Renn’s friends live there,” I said.

“Oh!?” Fly found that very interesting, and I wondered if maybe that’d be an okay spot for her.

But no. Even though they could somewhat hide amongst the wheat and by being away from the village, there were still humans there. They still frequented it a little too much for my liking.

But where else would I take her…?

Tor’s village was the likeliest location. I honestly didn’t want to take her to the Crypt, or the Weaver’s. Not only was that a far distance from here, they were the two ends of the spectrum when it came to religion and mindsets. The same extremes that had inevitably gotten Fly kicked out of the Bell Church.

The Crypt had the religious. Though those there were a tad more friendly and accepting than most, like Sharp and Prasta, I worried about forcing Fly into a place nearly completely dominated by religion. The same religion that had just basically banished her from her home.

Then the Weaver. As much as Nann and Nasba were perfect for someone like Fly, they were also the wrong ones to entrust her to. The weaver’s family was a mix of human and non-human, and most of them were now feeble minded individuals.

If Fly couldn’t mix and mingle with the Bell Church then it was very likely she’d be unable to do so with those at the Weaver’s Hut too.

I sighed at myself, and hated the fact that Tor’s village was likely the best place for her. I didn’t want to admit it.

They hated predators, but Fly was not one. She simply knew what it was like to live under a monster’s rule. To live under a boot. So she had the mind and personality to survive such an environment.

Fly was not a predator but she’d run and fight like one, if she needed to.

And Tor’s village, or rather those that lived there, wouldn’t mesh well with that. At least not directly. The only reason it would work would be the fact that Fly herself was not a predator.

Fly would be accepted, and those there like Silkie, would be gentle and understanding with her. Because they would see a victim. She had a strong headed attitude towards certain things, but those like Silkie would understand. They’d know her hard-headed beliefs were sourced from her trauma. So they’d accept them. Even if they kept her slightly at a distance because of it, they’d not kick her out of the village over it.

I had thought the Bell Church would have done the same, though.

The biggest problem wasn’t so much finding Fly a place to live… but that I’d likely only get one or two more chances at this.

If the next place I took her ended up kicking her out too… I could lose her. The Society could lose her, and she might simply disappear. Running off to be alone or something like it.

Throughout all the thousands of people I’ve had to help find homes, since I’ve joined the Society, I’ve only lost a few. Or well, failed to find homes for them. Not including those who had died unexpectedly, or ran away before I could even talk to them.

Those I, or we, lost had been those who had given up. Who had gone to location after location, and inevitably ended up realizing they didn’t fit in anywhere. Those who had not been able to live with, or around, anyone else… or found that no one else could live around them.

Glancing at the young bird whose hand I held, I wondered how the hell she was one of those.

She was so small. So weak. So frail. And what I’d seen and known of her was nothing but good things.

Some could argue she had abandoned those like herself in the sewer. To join us. But who was to say that was correct? Or that she had any chance or ability to help them in the first place? After all, she had supposedly tried. She had tried to convince those like her. Other children, at least, to join us. None had been willing to even hear her out. A few had beaten her, supposedly, and chased her away when she had talked to them about it.

Her lack of bringing anyone else with her to the Society was not a failure on her part. It was not a sign of any kind of evil or scheme. She had simply done the best she could, to the extent she could have done so.

Other than that… what had Fly done? What did she do? She seemed like any other young girl I’ve known. Emotional, a little, sure… but not so badly it would or should have caused any issues.

If anything she should be pitied. Not hated or feared.

What was the Society coming to?

“It’s starting to rain again,” Fly complained as she reached up to pull her hood back over her head.

I nodded, but ignored the growing rainstorm.

“Yes it is,” I said simply.

What to do with her?

Maybe taking her to Renn was the best option. Maybe Renn would know. Maybe she’d see what I didn’t.

She had wanted to become something of a matchmaker. Granted she intended for that to be concerning love, or finding partners or whatever… but…

In a sense finding someone a home was also the job of a matchmaker too, right?

Just… hopefully it didn’t backfire on me.

It was my duty to protect such people. Such small, weak, and innocent lives rested on my shoulders. Within my hands.

Finding them homes, places not just to live but to love and feel safe at, was as important if not more so than actually protecting them. That was one of the main points of my contract with Celine, and in fact one I had happily accepted to abide by.

Everyone deserved a home. One where they could be happy and safe. Comfortable.

But home was more than just a house. More than just food on the table, and clean clothes or a comfy bed.

It was family. Friends. Companions.

People needed more than just the basics. They needed a society. To survive. Mentally. Just as bodies needed food for energy, souls needed relationships to stay strong and not wilt.

Even I did, it seemed.

“Did you have a wedding yet?” Fly asked as the rain picked up.

My eye twitched, as I realized the young girl had unknowingly been used as a tool to taunt me. It wasn’t her fault, but it made me want to sigh.

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Well…” I struggled to find a reason that this young bird would understand.

“I’d like to see one! A wedding. Limb told me about them. I read about them too, in one of the books Braid gave me before she got all weird about me borrowing them,” she said.

“Weird…?” I asked, focusing on that. That was both interesting to hear, and also a great distraction from the current conversation.

She nodded under her thick hood, which I barely saw and only heard thanks to her feathers. “Once all the drama started. I think she was worried I’d get the books hurt, somehow. So I was only allowed to read them in the library while she watched. I didn’t like doing that so…” Fly stopped talking, and I noted her tone had softened as much as the rain falling upon us.

Woops. To avoid feeling bad myself, I had steered the conversation into a direction where it had hurt her instead.

Still… get the books hurt? What a phrase. She wasn’t wrong, since that was likely what Braid had worried over. Her harming the books in some way, but it was such a childish way of saying it. As if she wasn’t able to articulate things properly.

Though young, and having grown up in a strange environment, Fly was not that simple or that stupid. She was actually well spoken, and smarter than most likely assumed her to be. So that had likely just been her speaking of something that hurt in as round-about-a way as she could accomplish.

“I too hate reading while others watch or listen. They always expect to be read aloud to,” I said with a sigh.

“I like being read to, too,” Fly said happily.

I bet you do.

“Did you read anything interesting? Other than weddings?” I asked.

“Yeah! I read a book about birds! Braid had called it a enclopodia or something,” Fly said, sounding out the word she had barely remembered.

“Encyclopedia. Yes. Did it have illustrations?” I asked. I hadn’t realized some of those had survived all this time. That meant there was more knowledge in that library than I had thought, which was a scary thing.

“There had been! I’m definitely a type of robin!” Fly happily told me.

Although I frowned, I didn’t do so because she was wrong. Her colors would indeed match, plus she was small and light. And although many people saw them as tiny cute things, robins were actually very spunky and feisty so it made even more sense.

“It’s my colors! My feathers became a duller brown more than red the lower they go and…” Fly went on a tangent, telling me why she assumed so and how she had reached her conclusion… and I happily indulged in it as we strode deeper and deeper into the forest.

Yes. This was a far better way to leave such a droll place. With happy voices and great conversation.

No tears. No sorrow.

No pain.

They weren’t worth such things, anyway.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep