Rennia's eyes were puffy. She had cried enough. The walls of her childhood were crumbling to dust, and she wondered why her mother had made such an effort to send her sisters away — but kept her here, watching, and monitoring.
She needed to see Lyanna before she went. The mystery of her classes and skills could wait. She needed to get things off her chest. Rennia at least needed to confess.
She walked toward the storage room. Though the house was larger than most, there were far too many unused rooms now. It made her uneasy. She grabbed one of her mother's swords from the armory compartment. The weight was familiar; she'd trained with these since an early age. This one was rustic, old, unused. Symbolism — that was all it was good for. But necessary, in case someone threw another rock at her.
She wasn't taking any chances. Not after what the townsfolk had done.
The guards were still patrolling the street their home sat on. Called it "preemptive protection." She saw surveillance. So many blanks her mother had never filled in, and she didn't have the time or the energy to press for answers.
Out on the streets, she was greeted by the sounds of a town alive. The blacksmith hammering steel nail, shield and horse-shoe. The farmer wrangling his wandering flock — barking, growling, mooing. Tailors swarmed by giggling girls. Taverns and bars humming with old drunk rotten men. The inn's steps busy, the adventurers' guild wild with chatter, parties young and old seeking thrill and adventure.
She'd see none of it after today. Not here, at least.
Just like any normal day. If only.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Guard Captain Ysara passing a patrol. Unusually, she wore a helmet. Rennia looked down, averting her gaze. She was embarrassed — and thankful. She hadn't meant to explode in Ysara's mouth. Her body had just reacted. A spasm, a moan, a manic pull — and she'd collapsed to the ground.
A mistake she'd be paying for.
Ysara probably hated her. And yet, she'd kept her from being flogged all night. Rennia didn't want to face her. She walked on, tight-lipped, two blocks away, heart pounding.
She came to a house attached to a brewery. The smell of alcohol hit her from afar. She stood in front of the door, wondering if the Kettens would drive a pitchfork into her, or try to strongarm her mother into some twisted version of conversion therapy.
She'd just had to be born in a traditionalist town. The capital wasn't like these, there people like Lyanna—no, she needed to kill that thought, she was more than bisexual, she didn't fit in here.
Rennia held her breath. And her heart. Then she knocked three times.
There was a long pause, then footsteps — heavy ones.
The door unlatched. A pudgy, round-faced woman stuck her head out and scowled.
"Rennia! You! You're not welcome here. Not after how you corrupted my Lya."
Rennia stood agape, concerned. She had nothing but respect for Ms. Ketten. This aggression felt like a family member driving a knife into her back. And if she thought, she had corrupted Lyanna, her mother was wholely out of touch.
"Didn't you hear? Are you dull? She's not coming. She's packing. You'll never see her again. I hope whatever god's watching punishes you for your sickness. Now get lost!"
The door slammed in her face.
Rennia didn't even have time to argue. She nodded to herself, then stepped away. She circled to the back of the building. Lyanna was an adult. They had no right to treat her like this.
Behind the house was a basement window, rusted iron bars keeping intruders out. Inside, she saw her Lya, surrounded by half-empty trunks, old clothes, and the staves she used to wield in the field. Lyanna often used it as a place to study magic, or in quiet, uninterrupted. Rennia had one or two memories that happened here.
Rennia glanced around. A group of guards stood nearby, watching wearily. But they said nothing.
She ducked, pressed her face to the bars, and whispered,"Lyanna!"
"Renny!"
Lyanna's eyes lit up. Almost elated, she ran to the window, dragged a chair over, and climbed up, so their faces were level. She started talking right away. Complaining — but smiling. Chattering that was her alright, Rennia was glad she wasn't broken.
Though she was hiding something. Rennia could tell.
"They're sending me to the Holy Magician Academy. For a few years."
"What! That's halfway across the country!"
"I know, right? It's all girls. You'd think I'd be happy, but it's basically a religious cult. They want to make me a battle-cleric. Can you believe that? After everything I've done for my parents, they strip me of my agency. I don't even have full rights over myself because of the magical laws and such. I hate it. I should've run away."
Rennia's head sank. "We should have run away."
Too little, too late.
Neither of them was going to see each other anytime soon. Not if the world had anything to say about it.
"That's fucked up," Rennia giggled, brokenly. "I'm being exiled by the village. This is the last time you'll see me here."
"Exile? Isn't that a bit much?"
"It was the best solution… people who cared for me might've stepped in." She didn't count Baldeus among them, but her mother had strongarmed him. Maybe more than that. They were awfully close. And her mother did threaten to blackmail him.
Eh, I honestly don't care. She thought.
"That's fucked up. What about our friends? No one supportive?" Lyanna questioned.
"Everyone in my circle turned away. Except Saelyn. She's… she's been staring at me. A lot." She paused. Realized Saelyn wasn't just staring at her. She was staring at her where her cock would be. "Anyway, I came to say goodbye. I'll find a way to see you, once I can. I promise."
"No. Don't risk, angering the royals. I'll find a way to leave. There's got to be a loophole. Some law I can twist."
"Fucksakes, Lyanna. Fucksakes. This is all my fault. If I hadn't gone running after fucking Edric, none of this would've happened." She wished they hadn't come looking. But... "I'm going to miss you. Some part of me still wants to deny it, but I think I love you. Or rather... I've fallen for you."
"Renny..." Tears ran down Lyanna's cheeks. This was the end.
"You gave me something I always wanted. And more. I'll never forget it."
"Lya," Rennia whispered.
"This was my fault. All of it. I told you to eat Eve's apples. I kissed you first."
"Shh, Lya. Kiss me again."
Rennia brought her face forward — slow, desperate. Lips parted. Their mouths met through the bars, tongue swirling in a wet, naughty kiss. Maybe their last.
She closed her eyes, savoring the moment. Something twitched deep in her belly.
"Ahem..." a guard coughed beside her. Towering over as she wooed Lyanna. "A caravan has come for you, Ms. Perillion. Your mother asked me to inform you."
Rennia deadpanned. Glared at him like she could cut him open. He walked off without looking back.
She flipped him the bird. "So fucking rude."
Lyanna giggled. Rennia did too. Then too hard.
And then two older figures appeared at the basement door. The Kettens.
They froze at the sight of the girls — hands still locked through the bars.
"I fucking knew it," Ms. Ketten hissed.
Her husband came with a broom, jabbing it through the bars into Rennia's face.
"OW! OW!"
"Shoo! Shoo! Begone, ye lesbian! Begone!"
"Stop it!" Lyanna yelled. "We're saying goodbye!"
"You've done the deed. Was that not enough?" Mr. Ketten growled.
"Begone, witch!" Ms. Ketten spat.
What a fucking bitch.
The moment had soured. Rennia stood up, waved to the girl — and even to the Kettens.
"Goodbye, Lyanna."
Lyanna said nothing. Her mother was scolding her, grumbling cruelly. Rennia didn't care to listen.
Her own hell was coming.
She walked back home, hoping the future still held something for her.