The sun had already dipped below the horizon when Ninte finally dried her tears and returned from the barn to the homestead. As she approached the house, kicking her muddy boots off and leaving them sitting just outside the front door, she felt a sense of relief that was quickly quashed when she heard her mother’s irate voice. The words were muffled through the door, but Ninte could guess what she was complaining about. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself for the verbal barrage waiting for her inside, Ninte pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold.

The argument that had been taking place between her parents ceased immediately as they both turned to look at Ninte as she entered. For a fleeting moment she thought that perhaps she would be spared, but her mother quickly dispelled the hope.

“Well, look who it is,” she said, her voice snide and cruel, and with a slight but unmistakable slur in her speech. She must have been at the mead for a good while. “She’s sent to check on the horses halfway during the day and decides to disappear until nightfall. Must you take every available opportunity to slack off?”

“I wasn’t-” Ninte began, but her mother cut her off with a screeching cry of “Lies!” before she could continue.

“All she does is lie, Adriyan,” Irlana continued. “And I’m sick of it. I don’t know how much more of her idleness I can take.”

“I wasn’t slacking off!” Ninte shouted, silencing a stunned Irlana with the outburst. “I saw something in the barn, it was horrible-”

Irlana, having recovered from the shock of what she perceived as Ninte’s interruption, cut the girl off once again, one eye twitching with fury. “Nothing but lies. I won’t entertain this any longer, I won’t!”

“Hush woman,” said Adriyan, in the commanding tone he so seldom used. Irlana looked as though she could have struck him, and Ninte saw her fists clench so tightly they turned white almost immediately. He took a moment to make sure Irlana would heed his words, then looked over to Ninte. “Go on girl, what did you see?”

Ninte swallowed, forcing herself to recall what she had seen earlier that afternoon.

“When I came back to check on the horses, the mare was struggling. I managed to calm her down, but when I went to leave I-” She faltered as the memory of the lifeless foal rushed back to her. “I saw the mare dead in a pool of blood, the foal was lying on the ground in a heap. There was so much blood, and a terrible storm outside I could barely believe what I was seeing, but it felt so real. Then everything just went back to normal, and there the mare was, sleeping soundly where I had left her.”

Irlana snorted, unable to keep quiet any longer.

“This is exactly what I mean, Adriyan. Surely not even you believe this tale.”

Ninte looked over to her father, her eyes pleading for him to believe her. But as she looked at his face, she could clearly see the doubt he felt. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and swallowed before eventually opening it again.

“Ninte,” He began, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. “You say the horses are fine, right?”

“Yes. I don’t know what I saw, but I feel like it was warning me of something,” Ninte replied, a feeling of helplessness falling over her.

“I don’t know, love. You said there was a storm, right? The mare is due any day now and the weather is perfect, no sign of even a drop of rain.”

“I… I don’t know what I saw, but you have to believe me.” Ninte said, her voice coming out quietly before adding a final, “Please.” As the hint of tears began to well in her eyes.

Adriyan took several soft steps toward her and enveloped her in a warm hug.

“I think maybe the sun got to you today. Why don’t you stay home tomorrow, take a day off and rest,” he said.

“A day off?!” Cried Irlana, “She just had most of today off. You spoil this child, Adriyan. If she is to stay home then I’ll put her to work, believe me.”

“I don’t need a day to rest!” Ninte said, blinking away the tears stubbornly and pushing her father away. “I know what I saw whether you believe me or not!”

And with that, she barged past him and ran to her room where she remained for the rest of the evening. Adriyan and Irlana talked deep into the night, and Ninte listened to the hum of their muted conversation, now and then catching a word or two, until they fell asleep. Even after their chatter had ceased, Ninte continued to listen. She listened to the sound of an owl landing on the roof above her room. She heard its hoot and the flap of its wings shortly after as it departed, and she wished she could go with it. She would get no sleep that night, instead, she lay awake, the recent visions - the face of the woman - replaying over and over in her mind.

The next morning, she was already dressed and sitting at the kitchen table by the time her parents awoke. She had set out three bowls and upon hearing her father's daily knock on her bedroom door echoing down the hall, she filled each bowl with oatmeal that had been bubbling in a small pot above a tenuous fire.

Irlana said nothing, only pursing her lips and sitting reluctantly at the table, seemingly disappointed by the lack of things to criticize her daughter for. Adriyan smiled wide when he saw the laden table and patted his daughter affectionately on the head as he passed her.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” he said after sitting down and taking a mouthful of oats. “I take it you’re feeling better?”

Ninte looked at him and forced a tired smile onto her face. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and when she opened her mouth to lie in agreement, a yawn overcame her.

“You know you really can stay home today if you aren’t feeling up to working,” Adriyan said, his smile still present, but with concern glinting through the mask of cheerfulness in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” snapped Ninte as she lowered her head and began to shovel oats into her mouth. Irlana remained silent, and although Ninte could almost feel the annoyance radiating off of her mother, the woman said nothing and simply ate her breakfast.

When they had eaten their fill, or at least finished their bowls since they were rarely full nowadays, Ninte and her father bid Irlana a quick farewell and set off toward the field to get to work. This time, Adriyan led Ninte off the main path he usually took through the village, and off onto the one that skirted around the edge of town. They did not talk as they made their way along the path, Ninte was too tired to hold a conversation and her father did not try to force one into being. Instead, they listened to the ambient sounds coming from the grove as birds and other small creatures bold enough to venture close to the village went about their morning routines of catching breakfast or gathering sticks, moss and leaves.

As they reached the crop fields, they were greeted by the same surly old man as the day before and, just like the day before, Adriyan smiled warmly through the cold exchange. They had arrived earlier this day, and the majority of the other workers were yet to arrive. Nevertheless, they were still assigned the area as the previous day, as far away from the other workers as could be managed. Ninte, as usual, said nothing and kept her eyes low with her shawl wrapped tightly over her head.

The pair of them worked as they had walked, in silence. It was not an awkward silence, the kind that longs to be filled with some kind of small talk or idle chatter. It was an easy silence. One that, while not comfortable due to Ninte’s exhaustion, was still easy as only the sound of their breathing and Adriyan’s occasional humming interrupted it.

Slowly, as the morning wore on and the sun rose fully from its resting place beyond their view, the field began to fill up with other villagers arriving for work. Occasionally, when Adriyan was standing straight and stretching his back, and a newcomer arrived, he would wave to them. He rarely got anything more than a nod in his general direction in return. Ninte made no move to greet the workers, and for the most part they simply ignored her.

And so, the day passed by, Ninte and her father continued to work in silence segregated from the rest of the village. The work did wonders to improve Ninte’s mood, or rather it and her exhaustion did wonders to distract her from the thoughts that had been ceaselessly tumbling around inside her head. Regardless of what exactly was distracting her, she felt far better by the time midday came around and the water cart was heard trundling over the uneven soil. Plunging her shovel into the ground, she looked over to her father and caught him glancing over at the cart. He caught her eye and winked before saying in a hoarse voice: “We’ll head over and get a drink shortly. Most of them will have had their fill by now.”

Ninte looked over at the water cart and the throng of people milling around it, laughter and merry conversation wafting over to where she stood. Then she looked back at her father, at his cracking and chapped lips.

“Come on, let’s get some water now,” she said, shocking her father whose eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Are you sure? Ninte, we can wait until they’re done, I’m really not as thirsty as I look.” He said, but by the sound of his voice, she knew he was lying.

“Come on.” She repeated and began to make her way over to the water cart.

Adriyan, although somewhat bemused, pushed his shovel into the hard, dry earth, and followed his daughter.

The villagers' conversation and laughter faded the moment they saw the two of them approaching. Ninte kept her gaze low, not wanting to catch anyone’s eye lest they change their mind and try to stop them from getting any closer. Surrounded by a sudden and almost eerie silence, Ninte took the ladle and drank from it deeply before handing it to her father who did the same, downing two ladlefuls and finally offering it back to Ninte. She took it and moved to fill the ladle once more when a whiny, derisive voice rose out of the silence like the hiss of a snake on a peaceful summer's day.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

It was the voice of Adon, the boy who for some reason seemed to hate her with a deep and burning passion far exceeding anyone else’s disdain for her. Ninte turned to face him in time to see most of the surrounding villagers amble away to continue work. They didn’t go too far though; it was clear they still wanted to listen in on what would be said. Ninte ignored Adon and continued to take her final drink of water.

“Hey, freak!” Adon said, stepping forward, “I said I think you’ve had enough.”

“Calm yourself, boy. We’ll be out of your way in a moment.” Said Adriyan, his voice stern.

“I wasn’t talking to you, old man! You’re the reason she’s even here, so as far as I care you can both stay thirsty,” the boy snapped.

Ninte forced herself to swallow the mouthful of tepid water and returned the ladle to its place hanging from the side of the wooden barrel. She turned and began to walk away, her head still low as she avoided the boy's glare. A few steps away from the water cart was all it took for the next comment to come out of the boy's mouth. Just as Adriyan was turning away, the boy muttered, just loud enough to make sure they could hear:

“Pathetic scum, both of them.”

Ninte was used to the insults, but as the boy spoke, she heard footsteps rushing toward her. Before she could turn to react, her shawl was ripped loose from her head and left hanging from her collar, exposing the bone ridges along Ninte’s head. She was used to being shunned by others and she was used to Adriyan getting a similar treatment. But this was too far. Whether it was due to the hot sun mixed with her physical exhaustion from a night spent sitting up in bed, rocking back and forth as she fought the visions that swam in front of her eyes, or if it was just a bad day, Ninte snapped.

She spun around, her hands balled into fists and her jaw clenched so tightly her head was quivering slightly. Her upper lip curled in disgust and her golden eyes flashed dangerously in the early afternoon sun. The boy was taken by surprise, and he took a cautious step back before letting out a bark of laughter.

“Crazy witch,” he said.

And then his eyes went wide. In an instant, Ninte’s vision had become clouded with silver dust that swirled around her. She could see Adon shimmering as strands of silver glowed around his body. Without thinking, Ninte had pointed at the boy and focused all of her energy on the brightest silver strand that ran from his head, down his neck, and into his heart. The brilliant silver glow diminished at once. It began to fade and turned dull as the boy fell to his knees, suddenly weak and gasping for air.

There was a sound in her ear, an annoying sound like the buzzing of an insect flying around her head. She ignored it. Her focus was on Adon and punishing him for the years of torment her and her father had been subjected to. The strand went from a dull silver to the brittle gray of ash left from an extinguished woodfire. Light rippled through it weakly, and the boy fell forward onto outstretched hands that crumpled under his weight.

“Ninte!” Adriyan’s voice snapped her back to reality.

The silver hue that had covered her vision began to dissipate, and she looked down at the boy twitching on the ground. In horror, she let her focus slip and stepped away. Adon gasped for air and moved to scramble away on weak limbs that kept failing him.

The villagers around them were standing and staring at her, their mouths open and terrified looks on their faces.

“Ninte.” Her father's voice was close and low, “Let’s go.”

“What… what did I do?” Ninte asked, her hands had begun to shake violently as the reality of what she had just done dawned on her.

“We’ll worry about that later, right now we need to leave.”

Her father's voice was stern, and she could hear it trembling despite his efforts to remain stoic. Not knowing what to say, and feeling her legs go weak either from the effort or the shock of what she’d done, she allowed Adriyan to lead her swiftly away from the field and back toward the village.