The pair finished their lunch rather quickly, each devouring two slices of cottage pie accompanied by a mug of ice cold cider. Hestia hadn’t realized how hungry she truly was, until she realized she had finished her meal without saying a word to Ezra the entire time. To be fair, he had done the same.

It wasn’t until they were each on their last bite that his deep, silky voice pierced the bubble of silence surrounding them.

“Lottie makes an incredible cottage pie, doesn’t she?”

Hestia nodded her head enthusiastically, her mouth still too full of pie to give a proper response. He was right though, this was the best cottage pie she had tasted, and the cooks at the temple had always impressed her with everything they served.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he chuckled. “Lottie will be glad to hear it too, she’s always so hard on herself about those kind of things.”

Hestia looked at him for a moment, giving herself a chance to swallow her last bite of pie before responding.

“You seem to know her well,” she pointed out, not brave enough to question exactly how the two knew each other. Not that it mattered, because Ezra was happy to share the information.

“I do,” he explained. “I grew up in this village, and Lottie was always one to look after me when my mother couldn’t. I owe her a great deal, which is why I insist on paying her anytime I visit, even though I know she would prefer that I didn’t.”

“You grew up in this village?” Hestia asked, too focused on that detail to comment on the other parts of his story, no matter how endearing they were. She wanted to know how a noble fae, one who still held the title of Lord, had grown up in this small village in the middle of no where.

“I did. It was just my mother and I but that was all we needed. They took her in while she was pregnant, and she repaid them by becoming the town healer. Once I was born, the town quickly became my family too. I still visit anytime I have the chance, to see everybody and help out where I can.”

That was not at all the upbringing Hestia would have imagined for the faerie in front of her. All the noble fae she had met, at least those that still held titles, were brought up in large estates with many common fae servants to wait on them hand and foot. None of them had grown up in small towns with only their mother and a few townspeople looking after them. Maybe Ezra was different than she thought, maybe that sense of safety she felt around him happened for a reason. She would still play it safe, but maybe she could start to trust him just a little bit.

“In that case,” Hestia started, still curious about the story behind the male in front of her, “how does a young boy from a small village like this, grow up to be Lord Ashbrook and hold both title and land.”

“That’s a long story,” Ezra sighed, standing from the table as he did. “But we have lots of time to get to know each other in the coming weeks, for now, are you ready to go?”

“Go where?” Hestia asked, still seated in front of her plate, “Aren’t we staying here for the night?”

“We are, but there are still a few hours until nightfall, and if you are interested, I would like to show you around.” Ezra rounded the table to Hestia’s side and offered her his hand.

“It would be my honor,” she said, taking his hand to stand and allowing him to lead her out of the inn.

He led her around the square first, explaining the other shops that resided there. There were five other buildings in the square, to the right of the inn was another fairly large building, the sign in front depicting a hammer and anvil that made it clear that was the blacksmith. Ezra explained that there was a forge around back, but the male who owned the shop wasn’t a fan of visitors while he was working, so they didn’t venture back there to look.

Across from the inn, on the other side of the square, were two more buildings, each about half the size of the inn and the blacksmith. The larger of the two was a general goods store, carrying basic items that anyone in town may need to go about their daily lives. The other building was smaller than its neighbor, but it was even more charming. Jars and bottles lined the windows, each filled with its own solution or mix of herbs. Hestia couldn’t help but want to know more about this place. When she expressed this interest to Ezra, something bright flashed within his eyes for a moment, but she didn’t have time to think about it before he was ushering her inside.

Despite the small, light bell that chimed when they entered, Hestia saw no shopkeeper behind the counter. Not that she was bothered by it, she wasn’t really here to buy anything she just wanted to see what it was that made her so drawn to this shop.

The interior was even more interesting than the outside, the counter in front of them ran almost the entire length of the shop and was made out of what she could only assume was petrified wood due to its dark, black coloration. Behind the counter, the walls were lined with shelves made of the same wood, each one filled to the brim with jars of ingredients, elixirs of all kinds from contraceptive tonics to healing brews, and a myriad of other magical medicinal items.

The floor space in front of the table contained a few tables that were scattered about. One table held mortar and pestle sets, all in varying sizes and materials. Another was piled high with books on medicinal ingredients and healing magic. There were a few other tables filled with what she assumed were the most popular brews and potions, ones that didn’t need to be protected behind the counter.

She was just about to pick up a book on healing rituals, when a gravelly voice suddenly piped up from behind the counter.

“What can I do for my favorite customer, and his esteemed guest?” The voice belonged to a silver-haired crone who looked as though she may be the oldest living creature in Liekki. Hestia knew that was an exaggeration, but it did not make the crone look any younger.

“Hello Ms. Madigan,” Ezra said, bowing deeply to the crone. Hestia did the same, if he showed her that much respect it was certain she desreved it. “I was giving my guest a tour of the village, and she seemed particularly intrigued by your shop, so I knew I had to bring her inside to meet you.”

The crone studied Hestia for a moment, her gaze so intense it made Hestia want to turn around and walk right out the door. As if she had heard exactly what Hestia was thinking, she gave Hestia an approving smile and turned back to Ezra once more.

“You were right to bring her here,” Madigan crooned as she made her way to the shelves behind the counter, rummaging for something in particular though Hestia did not know what. She hummed to herself as she looked, no longer saying a word to either of the faeries in her shop.

Hestia look to Ezra for an explanation, but he only shrugged, a rather tame reaction to the crone’s erratic behavior. Then again, he had known her for far longer than she had. Still, she had lots of questions about Madigan, questions she would save for their carriage ride to Ezra’s home.

“You suffer from nightmares, yes?” Madigan called out, her back still turned to them. Ezra looked at Hestia, who was frozen where she stood. She hadn’t expected that question, she hadn’t told anyone about the nightmares that plagued her in her sleep. She hadn’t even told Raea, so there was no reason Madigan should know. And yet she did, so Hestia had no choice but to tell the truth, because if the crone was powerful enough to know her secrets, she was certaintly powerful enough to punish her for lying.

“I do,” Hestia admitted, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She still couldn’t move from where she stood, her pulse echoing loudly in her ears. The crone knew too much about her, and now Ezra did too, but she couldn’t worry about that now. She needed to act as normal as possible, hoping the crone wouldn’t reveal more secrets that Hestia kept close to her heart.

“I thought so. I have a gift for sensing that kind of thing you know. Ah, there you are.” Madigan returned to the counter, holding a small vial of silver liquid in her gnarled hand.

“Just a sample,” she explained, placing the vial down on the counter in front of Hestia, “on the house for a friend of my Ezra’s, but if you drink it, come back to me and tell me what you saw. If you do, I can help rid you of your nightmares for good.”

“How?” Hestia asked, already clutching the vial in her hand. This must be what drew her here, a chance to finally escape the torment of her past. She needed to know if the crone could really help, or if this was a scheme to make a few gold. She wasn’t sure if there was anyone in all of Liekki, in all of Eldevaer honestly, that could help her escape this torture, but if there was a chance, no matter how small, she had to take it.

“All will be explained in time,” Madigan sang, “for now, just drink the potion, soon you will understand why.”

It was clear the crone wasn’t going to give her any more information. So for now, Hestia mustered up the best smile she could give, and thanked the crone for what she gave her.

“I look forward to seeing you soon,” the crone sang as Hestia and Ezra left her shop. Ezra called back a nice farewell before the door closed behind them.