Chapter Text
I was never a child. I was pulled right out of the sea, and the salt, it never left my body.”
–Chelsea Wolfe
Being one of the most wanted thieves in Ingary did not - it seems suffice to say - have many perks. A life where you had to keep your face carefully hidden, a life where trust was a game as fickle as the late February weather, a life where you had to trek an hour onto the moors just for some firewood; yes, such a life seemed frankly devoid of many pros. But, there was one quite notable one. At least, being as undesirable as I was, I would never fall prey to the Wizard Howl.
As I’ve stated, it was February, and the air was clinging on to cruelty as harshly as I was. The air bit and stung all the way through town, and I had goose-skin before I was half-way up the moor. Still, I knew better than to complain - what good would complaining ever do when keeping your mouth shut was as crucial as breathing - so I settled for kicking a few stray rocks along as I walked. I may have been able to bite my tongue through the past twenty odd years, but that didn’t mean it had made me at all tolerant. Oh, no. Learning to live with the way things are is not a blessing thieves are given. In the cold of that early year, like always, a bitter underlayer of malcontent was enough to keep me warm.
Still, nothing really protects you from how your blood runs cold the moment you realise you’ve managed to kick a rock straight into the back of someone’s head. Usually I’d get away with it - Market Chipping was full of thieves, mainly young ones, so most people didn’t bother giving chase. But if they knew it was me - the regrettably somewhat renowned y/n l/n - they’d probably chase me down just so they could boast they’d caught me. Even if they couldn’t keep hold of me long enough to turn me in, it would be a nice badge of moral honour they could parade around the Square for a few weeks at least.
Unfortunately, with nowhere to run except some measly shrubs I overzealously considered hiding behind, it was fairly obvious to whoever I’d just assaulted that I had been the one to do it. And while Wizard Howl was unlikely to prey on anyone like me, the same could not be said of other rogue Wizards; their moral convention seemed as foreign to me as the Gentry’s, and I wouldn’t put it past any one of them to do something even more severe than chase me in order to earn their bragging rights.
With nowhere to turn, I instead defaulted to my next best line of defence. Not getting caught was merely a time-saver - this was where I truly shone.
“My apologies, your whimsicality! You’ll forgive my blundering, won’t you? It’s such a cold day, it’ll make grouches of us all, won’t it?”
As a thief, you cannot be below begging, no matter how long you try to stay that way.
The man regarded me, and I him, taking in as much as I could with my head still bent remorsefully. He was actually quite a short man, so it wasn’t very hard, with an old, grey face that looked as if gravity had a particular grievance against it. He was dressed in the green swathe of a robe, so that it would have been quite the challenge to see him even if I had been looking. He looked like more of an overgrown, misshapen shrub than a person. He huffed, seeming to come to some sort of conclusion. I only hoped it wasn’t ‘oh look, a wayward thief, let’s turn her in for all the money I can get.’ If he lived all the way up here, I doubted he actually knew me, but I had no idea what Wizards actually knew in the end. Magic was common enough, but never for my kind, never unless you either were mad or stupid. For all my brief and painful encounters with the stuff, I knew next to nothing. Safe to say I might as well have been staring down a God.
“I suppose I can forgive you, if you help me.” He said. I straightened up a little. In the end, he didn’t look like much of a God with a face like that.
“What with, your splendiferousness?” I asked. The man cast his gaze around the wide flush of the moors.
“I dropped something of mine earlier.” He said. “I’ve been looking all morning and there’s no sign of it.” I rose to my full height and took a step back. What I did know of Wizards, beyond the fact they were terrifyingly unknowable - was that they were tricky and often mad. I wasn’t exactly willing to spend the whole day duped into looking for his pride or heart or something intangible like that. Hells, he might have me searching forever as some divine punishment at that rate. If I was going to waylay myself with this apology, it had better be by searching for something I could actually hope to find.
“And what is it you dropped?” I asked, eyes narrowed. Just because I was willing to beg didn’t mean I was any stranger to a fight either. On the contrary, fighting was most of what I was good at. An encounter always has a middle point, and on both sides lay comfortability and hostility. Knowing how to stay just a little on the tetchy side - enough that I knew how to handle it but not so much that I had to start running - that’s how I’d stayed alive all those years. After all, people were hardly friendly to my sort, but you had to make your way in the world somehow. If navigating tension like it was a sixth sense was what it took, that was something I’d have to stomach, adding to the bile that took permanent residence within me.
“It’s only a toy soldier,” He said. “But it’s my f– my… son’s, and he’ll be terribly sad if he loses it.” He explained, his eyes dropping even further, if that was even possible. I regarded him again, a bit perplexed at how downcast he looked, before sighing, bending to investigate the grasses to my left.
“Alright. I’ll look over here.” I told him, and he hobbled away to look somewhere else, a few feet away from me.
I’d gotten off remarkably easy, all things considered, but as the minutes drew on and I felt the wind start to pull at me, I wondered if I could manage to outrun a Wizard if they were that ancient. I didn’t exactly need more powerful enemies, though, what with all the Royal Guard already after me, so I settled to make my way over to him, skimming my hands through the shrubbery as I went.
“Where did you lose it?” I asked. “Do you live up here? I don’t see a house.” I did, however, spot the bulking black shape of the castle getting nearer, which made me want to find the useless treasure even more. Howl may have no interest in eating my heart, but that didn’t mean he might not find some other, equally as torturous way to deal with me should I cross his path. Hells, maybe he turned girls he didn’t like into cinder bricks and lumped them atop that machinery of his.
“Up there,” He huffed breathlessly. I craned my head again, but all I could see were swathes of heather.
“Is it some sort of… invisible magic house?” I asked. The old man squinted at me, then hauled himself to his full height - which still wasn’t very much - pointing very deliberately.
“No, in there. ” He said emphatically. My face paled as my eyes once again landed on the castle.
I buried my head in the grasses, pretending to search diligently. Although, to be honest, I was searching as hard as I could as my panic amassed, hoping I could somehow get out of there before my mind conjured up any more terrifying ideas than the ones that came on instantly: Is that Howl’s associate? Does he eat hearts too? What if that is Wizard Howl and this is some elaborate ploy to lure me in? Is that what he does to girls he deems unsightly? Turns them into old men?
Just then, my fingers brushed against something hard, and I looked down to see a toy soldier half-buried in the dirt. I heaved it out, which proved to be difficult when winter had the dirt so firm, but when I did, I sat up quickly, a relieved smile overtaking my face.
“Is this what you were-...” I trailed off as a chill ran through me, a mixture of fear as the castle loomed above us and the subsequent shadow it cast. It sputtered to a groaning stop, steam wreathing its hulking frame as it shuddered to the floor. Amidst the gleaming framework of black stone and scrap metal, I saw the gleam of a bronze handle, twisting in the cold light. I didn’t wait for it to open before I seized my chance. Powerful enemies be damned, even thieves had their reservations, and sticking around to face Wizard Howl was most definitely one of them. I’d yet to meet a sane person - desirable or not - to be unafraid of that man - that monster. And so I took off, skidding across the hillside as my heart pounded in my ears.
I made it almost half way down before my lungs and legs gave out. I collapsed into a wide ditch lined with cloudberry, shutting my eyes against my better judgement. It wasn’t exactly much use keeping them open; I was so out of breath my vision had gone blurry. But when I eventually had the strength to stand up, I’d barely taken one step forward before a voice called out to me from the rise.
“So, this is where you ran off to. I believe you might still have something of mine, Miss.”
If the younger sound of his voice hadn’t given him away, his manner of speaking would have. He was all prose and lilt, as if I was just another thing for him to entice as if he were some siren at sea. I turned to him, exposing in full my ragged clothes and scornful face, and to my dark delight, I saw him see me, realise what I was, and give up at once. I was satisfied that I was at least right - Howl had no appetite for hearts as ugly as mine. Still, that didn’t mean he would let me go, either.
“Oh, this?” I said, waving the soldier at him. “I believe this is your associate’s. You can have it, if you promise to let me go.” I said bitterly. This was not begging anymore, it was never begging if you had a bargaining chip. Then, no matter how lowly you were, you could make it a negotiation. You just needed enough nerve.
“I believe it is. And what ever makes you think I’d keep you? You’re free to be back to wherever you crawled from as soon as you hand me that toy.” He said, stepping closer. I bit back a sneer. It was nothing new to be insulted, and that was a light one, but something about having a murderer look down on you was especially irking. I tossed the soldier at him, and he caught it deftly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked instead of leaving. “Not used to having your eyes affronted by anyone less than ethereal?” That was the side-effect of having to breathe anger. You got a bit addicted to it, like a vice. That was the strongest thing I’d ever known, those days. Rage might as well have been my blood. It kept me alive and I depended on it. They were both the same enthralling shade of red.
He laughed as he took yet another step forward, the sound being snatched up by the wind.
“I have to say, you seem rather insecure.” He hummed lightly. “I would’ve labelled you a diamond in the rough, did your personality not spoil it, Miss Thief.” I prickled at him.
“Who says I’m a thief?” I said darkly. He laughed again, like it was funny watching me boil.
“I only meant you stole Markl’s toy. You really are a flighty thing, aren’t you?” He advanced again curiously, and this time I took a step back. There was only so long I could stand my ground before the threat of magic came back to me. I got the sudden feeling I’d gone too far, but that always happened when I did this. I tried to steer the conversation back as best I could, but all I could really manage was an awkward retreat.
“It’s probably best I leave then. I’m sure a heart as rotten as mine would find no place in your collection.” His smile twitched upwards, as if he found that funny, but I must have been right, because he turned and started heading up the moor side again.
“I’d give Markl your well-wishes, but I think you’re quite incapable of those.” He called. And with that, I backed over the rise and hurried back to the safety of the town. Well, the thief equivalent of safety, anyway, which was so remarkably removed from the idea it was very nearly laughable.
****
If that could have been my only encounter with Wizard Howl, it would have been blissfully short and altogether, rather nonfatal. A win - however shaking - in my books. Still, fate rarely allowed me that type of luck, and I only managed to survive a few days before he was thrown into my way again. This time, I was skirting the edge of a tall, pale building when I heard a large crash from the eastern side. Knowing I had no choice but to go that way still, following the backstreet that ran along its edge, I carefully peered around the corner.
As it turns out, it is rather hard to discern a person when they’re in a heap atop several broken flower pots. However, it is rather easy to discern Wizard Howl as soon as a fraction of his gaudy clothes or jewellery come into view. I backed around the corner again, wondering if there was any other route I could go down, but in the end I concluded that the trouble it was going to take to get past him was less than the trouble it would take to avoid him altogether. Besides, I’d had enough tact last time, right? Just about? So, steeling myself, I rounded the house swiftly.
“I thought you came into town to hunt girls, not destroy their gardens.” I observed. There was no point trying to sneak past - the street was far too narrow - so I might as well say something. Besides, I would be lying if I said I didn’t endeavour to make him just a tiny bit annoyed. It was a habit, a necessary threshold to establish. How far could you push someone before you had to start backpedalling?
Howl pulled himself up quicker than I expected him to, and any semblance of disheveledness evaporated as he reached his full height. He was an irritatingly impressive-looking man, with pristine, flounced clothes and smooth, pin-straight hair the colour of flax. He had a noble, well-bred look about him, but there was a plain quality about his eyes that made me feel as if most of what he had was put on. He looked for a moment as if he were possibly embarrassed, but then the emotion vanished, replaced by the same self-important look he seemed to always wear.
“I was renovating.” He replied, and the plant pots stuck themselves together again at the wave of a hand. The flowers inside them doubled, seeming to blush a deeper, more handsome colour. I screwed up my nose to hide my interest. I’d never seen magic do anything so… innocuous before. It was almost beautiful, but I refused to let the thought stick.
“Is there a reason renovating requires you to fall from windows? Or did your most recent meal just attempt to kick you out?” I asked, stepping closer, into the full darkness. I wondered briefly if I’d just interrupted a would-be murder, but Howl leant easily against the wall, as if my jabs were nothing more than small talk and this was nothing but a friendly house visit.
“She just needs time to come around.” He said. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say.” I barked a laugh, and the sound distorted against the close walls.
“I can’t imagine any sane person would ever warm to the idea of having their heart eaten.” I said. He smiled again, but less in the amused way this time. He looked more as if he were confused.
“What exactly do you think I do to the poor girls that capture me?” He asked nobly, as if affronted by the notion he would ever be so wicked.
“Well you kill them, obviously.” I replied dryly. “Or you try to. Every woman I’ve ever seen you with either never comes back or ends up wailing so loud nobody from here to Porthaven can sleep when she does. You’re Heartless, and the only reason you’re not in a prison cell is because you’re too magically talented to get caught.” I said. I winced then, realising I’d complimented him, in a backhanded sort of way, which he clearly realised too if the way he was grinning was any indication. Still, with the topic of him murdering women at hand, he had the good sense to quell his smiling before he replied:
“I’ll admit, that phrase did always seem a bit extreme, but I didn’t think anyone actually bought it. You really think I’m a killer?” He asked, the same way one would take mild offence to being called a layabout or a gossiper. Feeling a fool, I looked away, wishing the flowers weren’t quite so impressive and distracting.
“Well, what’s anyone meant to think, when you live all alone in a creepy castle on the moors? You don’t exactly scream ‘respectable’ .” I said, recalling then that he didn’t live alone at all. Suddenly, the idea I could be wrong about him seemed very possible.. Howl laughed, taking a step back.
“To say I eat their hearts isn’t entirely right, though believe me when I say I hear it often enough.” He said. “But women never do seem to take kindly to you once you’re forced to part from them.” He gazed forlornly at the window, where the shutters were firmly closed.
“Nor do they seem fond when young farm hands come into their lives and confuse things.” He said darkly. I stared at him for a moment before the realisation overcame me, at which point it was my turn to laugh.
“Something funny, Miss Thief?” I was too hysterical to take offence to the nickname. Here I had been, feeling foolish for misunderstanding him, when really he’d been the laughingstock all along. I pulled myself up and pointed at him weakly, still clutching my stomach.
“You’re- you’re a jilter!” I laughed, which made Howl show the first sign of irritance I’d seen from him.
“I’ll have you know I’m a very devoted man and you are a terribly bitter woman.” He said, trying to nudge me out of earshot of the house, in case his would-be lover heard my revelation. Not that everyone wouldn’t know, in time. I’d be spreading that like wildfire.
I smacked him away fiercely, finally recovering.
“And to think,” I cooed. “I thought you were a terrifying mass murderer. Turns out you’re just a lovesick idiot.” He sighed, backing slowly towards the house as if hoping I wouldn’t follow him.
“A lovesick idiot who can still put a rather nasty curse on you, if you insist on hanging about and polluting my impressive air.” He said. I cocked my eyebrow at him, entirely unphased. Even the threat of magic now seemed diminished in light of all this. To think I’d spent years fearing a man whose most damaging act came to nothing more than a kiss-and-run. I sidled past him, headed for the backstreet beyond.
“Oh, don’t worry, your grace, I shall be going. I may not be capable of well wishes, but do offer your condolences to the next girl whose heart you break. It must feel quite underwhelming, with how very far your name does precede you.” I disappeared into the shadows, still grinning, and twirling now a fine silver bracelet in my hand.