❖ THE SOUL MERCHANT ❖ (A/Mythica)

"So, do all of the crows speak in this forest? Oh—well—you are a crow, are you not?" Fane asked the bird perched on his shoulder. He felt somewhat uneducated for assuming it was a crow considering that he was a foreigner to this country, and that species in any animal group varied widely depending on the region and location of that animal. While he was well-versed in these sorts of things, he was ignorant to the specifics. And, he figured, that this alleged crow may not have been aware of what it was to begin with.

The supposed crow cooed at him with it's whiny tones, "Oh, yes, yes! That is what pickle-pees call us! Yes, yes!"

Fane continued to stare at the crow inquisitively. "So can they all speak as you do?"

"Yes, yes! But not just us can speak as I do! Everything speaks! Even popo-ros!"

"I see! How interesting!" Fane nodded, pretending like he know what the crow was talking about. But he supposed that what the crow said was true, that everything in this forest could speak. He wasn't entirely sure what it meant by popor-ros, but he assumed that it meant another plant or animal.

Ever since Fane discovered the entangled crow, it had been following him around as his self-appointed travel companion. He never thought to ask it why, as it was very clear about the reason earlier, and he quite enjoyed the company. He had always enjoyed birds, so having a speaking, sentient creature such as itself accompanying him was little for him to complain about. They got along, had no trouble, and grew so comfortable with each other that the rather large beast eventually perched itself on his shoulder rather than hopping on the ground or fluttering from branch to branch from greater heights.

Although they spoke of many different things, his travels didn't seem to go by any faster. The time that passed between the incident with the crow and now was only about an hour or two, and the sun was still directly in the center of the sky. Although he could not see it through the thick groves of trees, the position was still awfully clear.

The crow never bothered to ask where they were headed, and Fane didn't think to elucidate it on their destination during their time together. However, the goal was still crystal clear in his head—Pergrande Kingdom. It was obviously a destination quite far from where they were, but Fane wasn't planning to make any stops during his travels. While he had never been outside of Pergrande, he held no interest in Seven or Fiore's major cities or cultural landmarks, and not because he was simply ignorant to what they were in the first place, but because his drive to reunite with his Lord was far too great to ignore. The thought of not returning immediately hadn't even crossed his mind. And so the pair hopped over exposed tree roots, wiggled through bushes, and crossed over streams as if they knew where to go.

"Now what could have brought someone as strange as yourself to these woods I wonder."

Fane stopped walking when he heard this disembodied voice call out to him, bewildered. He wasn't anticipating for any other person interrupting his conversation with him and his feathered companion, but he didn't look incredibly frightened or spooked either.

Almost as soon as the voice finished speaking, Fane looked around to find who it was that was speaking to him, and it didn't take a lot for them to reveal themselves. When he turned around, there was a plainly-dressed little girl sitting on a tree branch above his head, smiling down at him, dangling her legs carelessly. When their eyes met, she would notice that Fane was smiling brightly at her, his gaze completely devoid of suspicion or hesitation. It was the look you would give to a friend you were excited to see.

"Greetings, mistress! I apologize for not noticing you sooner, for if I had known you were there, I would've come to greet you." Fane apologized in his orotund tone. The blonde would then move on to the next topic that the girl prompted, his feathered companion watching all of this attentively. "I'm not a dryad, mistress. It just so happens that creatures in the Sevenwood are capable of human speech. . . but, I must have lost my mind if you cannot understand them!" Fane's smile expanded into a grin as peals of laughter rolled off his tongue. His feathered friend, the crow, cooed with him in its own version of laughter.

The little girl then descended onto the forest floor and ambled her way towards him. It was at this point that Fane stopped laughing and smiled at her again. "I am Fane Howler. And to whom do I owe the pleasure of speaking?" The blonde dipped his head in greeting. This little girl was certainly strange. It probably wasn't completely uncommon for people to travel through the Sevenwood in order to get to a different destination, but he could always be wrong.

The crow, feeling somewhat forgotten, flapped its wings while perched on Fane's shoulder. "Pickle-pee, pickle-pee! What a strange one! Yes, indeed! Yes! Yes!" it crowed.

Fane peered up to it and hummed. "Hmm. Well, it's awfully boorish of a fellow to say that in front of someone, you see. Were you aware of that, my friend? Oh, well, of course not. You are a crow, after all. I'm certain that human customs and etiquette are of no concern of yours, now would it?" he went off on a tangent.

The crow, at this point, didn't know what to say. Fane couldn't understand if it was because it took what he said to heart or if it was simply ignoring him. Whatever the case, both of them seemed distracted despite the little girl intruding on both of their companies, and it wasn't on purpose. Both of them seemed to get caught up in their own thoughts if they let it happen.

Fane could tell that he was going to enjoy Mythica's company. She was so eloquently spoken and had a sinister air of mystery to her that didn't seem too different from his own. His intuition told him that she was a young woman with many secrets to tell and an unquenchable thirst for fun so insurmountable that she'd find herself here in the Sevenwood for some relief. The messy-haired blonde had no way of proving that his intuition was indeed the truth, but resolved that there was no point in pursuing such truths once he would return to Pergrande to do his Master's bidding. Once he stepped foot into that wretched land, the eerie coos of crows of the Sevenwood or the peculiarity of Fioreans would no longer be any concern of his.

Fane looked taken aback when Mythica asked him about his goals and aspirations, as if he were unsure of how to answer. "Goals? Aspirations? My fair maiden, I only harbor the desire to serve Milord with everything my body is capable of! NO! I will surpass even my physical limits for them, of course!" Fane grinned kindly as he placed a hand over his heart, gesturing the sincerity of his statement. "But you see, I have fallen into quite the predicament, my fair maiden! For days, I've traversed these lands seeking to return to Pergrande and her bosom which is endless! I seek to reunite with Milord after tragic events had taken place! Agggh! The AGONY!" The blonde wanderer littered his explanation with histrionics, his wide, blue eyes staring obsessively at the his two trembling palms before him. His irises were small and the whites in his eyes were boundless and cracked with the red and blue veins and vessels slithering from behind the socket. He was no longer grinning. "IT JUST TEARS MY HEART APART, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? IT TEARS ME APART TO BE AWAY FROM MILORD, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

. . .

There was a pause.

. . .

Fane began to grin kindly again, removing his now normal, friendly gaze from his palms and back to Mythica. "Of course you understand!" he giggled gleefully, "But I'm afraid I should depart soon. I have not reached my destination, and so, I must not waste time in returning to Milord, you see! Would you care to join me, fair Mythica? I assure you it is no trouble me. . ." Fane stopped himself midsentence and suddenly recalled the silent crow perching on him, "—us."