388: Disarming Sincerity

Disarming Sincerity

Gwen's house was empty.

"What the hell happened here?" Frey asked aloud.

"She left," a voice said, and Frey recognized the voice as belonging to Owen.

Owen had thinned as a result of winter, but remnants of his fat still clung to his now-sagging cheeks like stains to his black apron. He seemed so small as he stared up at Frey. His vacant, beady eyes looked emptier than the house.

"She left?" Frey repeated.

Owen gestured to the empty house. "Left without a word. At least I got to keep the shack, so I can take all my stuff out of it."

Frey wondered if he had gone numb for a moment. The only thought that crossed his mind was what a waste of time it was. 'All that build up for nothing?'

He slid a hand down his forehead as he took a moment to think. "At least tell me what happened."

Owen's pained expression was as plain as day. "I prefer to talk somewhere else, or maybe can you just go away? I still need some time."

"I have time now."

Owen sighed. "Screw it. Come on then." Without another word he turned around and walked back the way he came.

'Must have been a bad breakup,' Frey thought. 'He's so meek, like a walking punching bag. And he smells.'

After walking for a bit, he realized that Owen wasn't just meek. He was hollow, as if the life had been sucked out of him. His head down and his shoulders hunched, but more than that he wasn't acknowledging the world around him.

Owen trudged down the muddy path which ran alongside the once-vibrant flower fields, letting the sloshy mix of snow and dirt latch onto parts of his apron. Hell, he even tripped over his own two feet. It was as if he had his own personal rain cloud that followed his every move. If Frey didn't know any better he would have thought Owen was being overdramatic. However, Frey knew firsthand the effect Gwen had on people. 'If I stayed behind with her,' he thought. 'Would I end up like that?'

"I'm sorry," Frey said.

Owen turned around. It was hard to look him in the eyes. "What are you apologizing for?"

"Nothing. Forget it."

The rest of the walk was painfully, silently, slow. Frey should have guessed where they were going; the estate's kitchen. Once a chef, always a chef. It seemed Gwen couldn't suck everything out of him.

Archways of scorched bricks stared hungrily at the raw ingredients which dangled from the ceiling. As Frey passed by shelves, he could smell hints of the exotic spices hiding within. He dragged a barrel next to the center table and sat on it. He drummed his fingers.

"I see you know your way around the kitchen," Owen commented as he also dragged a barrel to the table.

"I've worked a lot of places. Now what happened?"

"First, would you like something to eat?" Owen asked, blatantly ignoring his question. "I'm sure you had a long journey here."

"No."

"Just let me know if you change your mind." Owen sank lower in his seat, quiet.

Frey drummed his fingers on the table. 'Why isn't Olpi here,' he thought. 'She's good at this sort of thing, at least I think so.'

"So, Owen, tell me is it always this quiet within the estate?"

Owen shook his head. "The only other time it's been this quiet was when the lord's wife passed away. It took a few weeks but things eventually moved again."

Frey glanced upwards. 'I hope Thomas is ok, but it's nothing Doevm can't handle.'

"So lonely without anyone here," Owen lamented.

Frey rolled his eyes. "That sucks. What happened to Gwen?"

"She left," Owen repeated.

Frey nodded. "Yes, and how did that happen?"

No response. Owen was looking at him but he wasn't absorbing any of his words.

Frey clenched his fist, and resisted the urge to punch him. "This seems like it's going to take a while. I think I'll have some oatmeal."

Owen's ear twitched, then he raised his head up. He rose from his seat, already scanning the shelves for ingredients. A white, fluffy chef's hat seemed to form out of thin air, which he placed atop his head. "With water or milk?"

"Milk."

Owen chuckled. "I'm kidding, we only have water."

The stove flames reflected in Owen's dull eyes. He dunked his hands in cold, clean water. Warm water flooded through a desert of oats, elevating their smell into the air. For a time, the meek, walking corpse of a man became just a man.

"She always had me cook for her," Owen said as he worked. "Just like this. I cleaned too. I did just about everything for her. I gave her everything. I didn't mean to start a relationship with her. It started just as sudden as it ended. Maybe if I did things differently, maybe went a little slower, this wouldn't have happened."

Frey frowned. "She didn't say anything?"

Owen shook his head. "One day I came back from work and she was gone. I asked the guards to search for her but they were busy enough as it was. I swear to you, I looked everywhere, but it's already been a week. I can't do it anymore. I need to move on."

"It doesn't sound like her to do anything-" Frey paused as he heard the front door open. He condensed life essence around his ears and picked up faint voices.

"That's probably the mercenaries reporting in," Owen explained. "They come in every so often and force me to make food for them. Here, it's done." He placed a bowl of steaming oatmeal in front of Frey.

Frey accepted the meal with thanks. "It doesn't sound like Gwen to leave on her own."

Owen plopped himself down on a barrel. "It doesn't sound like her to do anything on her own…no offense."

"None taken." Frey brought a spoonful to his lips and, to his surprise, it wasn't bland like the rare times Gwen cooked for him. It had flavor, obvious care put into it. "Hey, this isn't that bad. But seriously, I take no offense to that. I only realized how bad her laziness was after some time away from her."

Owen wore a half-cocked smile. "No kidding? Do you mean she was like that before? I thought maybe it was the poison."

Frey shook his head and had another bite of his food. "She would never do anything by herself, even before she was poisoned. It was always Frey this and Frey that."

Owen chuckled. "Aren't you the younger sibling?"

"I'm supposed to be. She also had this annoying thing where she would tap her foot-"

"And then she'd groan when you ask her to stop," Owen finished Frey's sentence for him.

Frey slurped up the last of his meal. "Thanks again, and exactly. It drove me crazy."

Owen motioned for the empty bowl. "Want me to make you another?"

"Sure, I'd like that. She also snored so loud."

Owen fought a smile as he nodded. "Oh no, don't even get me started on her snoring."

"I thought I was sleeping next to a bear!" Frey continued.

"That's a perfect description. Sometimes I wonder if she was a bear in her previous life, but she just hibernated until she died."

Frey scrunched his lips. "I can sort of see that but what about…"

Three bowls of oatmeal later, the two sat in a stew of old memories. They took turns picking and poking at their severed bonds with Gwen.

When the momentum had faded, Owen finally addressed the giant in the room: "Gwen left. It hurt but it hurts so much more because she Arte with her. Who takes a son from his father then flees into the night? What am I supposed to do? Gwen might just abandon him. She's not nearly responsible enough."

Frey paused, remembering how tiny Arte felt in his arms. A squeeze would force the innocent life out of his fragile body. He scraped the last shreds of oatmeal to the bottom of his bowl, and finished it. "What direction did she go?"2

Owen shrugged. "To the northeast maybe. Why?"

Frey leaned forward. "Arte is my nephew, the only blood I have left. I'll be damned before I let Gwen take that from me. Thanks for the food. The exit is this way, right?" He got up and turned to leave.

"It's dangerous to go alone," Owen warned. "Also that door leads to the front of the estate. Not important. What is important is that ever since the Fracture, monsters have lost their minds. The woods are infested with those beasts. You might have a hero's blood in your veins but that doesn't make you invincible." He cursed and covered his mouth, but it was too late.

Frey whipped around. "What did you just say?"

Owen stepped back, the color draining from his face: "G-Gwen might have let it slip out. I'm sorry, I should have kept my mouth shut. My point still stands. You'll die out there."

Frey wondered if he should threaten Owen to keep the man's mouth shut, but Owen wasn't just a stranger sleeping in his house, not anymore. Plus, he needed Owen. "Best to keep your mouth shut, for both of our sakes."

"Is there a reason as to why?" Owen asked. "Your grandfather did so much good in the world. Why keep that a secret? Are you ashamed?"

Frey shrugged. "When I asked my grandfather, he said people would come after us, people even he couldn't protect us from. So when I come back with Arte, raise him and don't tell him a word about his ancestors. It's for the best."

Owen breathed a sigh of relief. "You're ok with me raising him?"

Frey shook his head. "If not me, you're literally the only one for the job."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Clean yourself up. I'll be back." Frey took one step out of the dining room. Around the corner were two curious heads, pressed against the wall. He cursed. He had been so focused on answers that he let his guard down.

Olpi looked up at Frey and scratched the back of her head. "Yup, no rats in these walls. Just checking."

"Rats?" Frey asked. "Really?"

Olpi let out a nervous laugh and pointed past the stairs. "Come on Elero, let's wait next to the fireplace instead."

Elero facepalmed. "Olpi, just stop." Olpi apologized. "Look, Frey, you want to find your nephew. I get it. At least tell us when you're going off on your own."

"Sorry, but you guys can't come with me."

"Why not?" Olpi asked.

"Because this is personal to me," Frey said.

"And?" Olpi asked. "Is a reason to just let you go off on your own?"

"Uh, yeah," Frey said. "It's dangerous. Elero help me out."

Elero chuckled. "No, this is too funny. Olpi, I'm so glad you're here. Keep going." She strolled past Frey, picked up an apple off the counter, and bit into it.

Olpi put a hand on Frey's shoulder. "Frey, I'm concerned you're going off on your own. You are strong but why reject free help?"

"B-because," Frey stuttered. "It's not your problem."

"I say it's a problem if my friend needs help," Olpi said, with genuine sincerity in her eyes. "We are friends now, aren't we?" She put on a cute smile.

Frey tried to frown, but something about that look made it impossible to do so. "Fine, but you're both staying back."

Olpi nodded. "Good."

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