Following their conversation, Arin remained a little lost in thought. He stumbled on a loose stone lying in the middle of the dirt path, and only managed to avoid eating dirt thanks to the steadying hand Layla offered.
'Careful now,' she said. 'We're nearly home.' She snapped her fingers, and a small flame flared up in the palm of her hand. 'My apologies, Rin. I should have done that much sooner.'
Arin stared dumbly at the fire; it was unnaturally bright for one its size, and the light emanating from it was incredibly steady. Held aloft in Layla's hand, it illuminated their surroundings almost to the degree of daylight, and clearly lit up their way ahead.
He had to stop himself from expressing any wonder at the sight. That would only raise more questions.
'Thank you,' he said, managing to keep his tone even.
'Of course, traveler,' Layla winked.
*
Layla's house was deep within the village, within sight of the larger building Arin had seen from the sky. It stood in the middle of the settlement, its hulking form silhouetted against the darkening sky. its towering height made the building stand out against the more modest stone and timber homes nearby.
It was even more impressive up close, and Arin couldn't help but take a few more glances in its direction. The structure had stout walls, weathered by age and covered in some kind of ivy. Heavy wooden doors stood imposingly at the entrance.
It was otherwise unadorned, and the exterior of the lowest level was unbroken by any other openings. The two floors above it, however, had tall windows that glinted orange as they caught the final flashes of the setting sun.
'Our ceremonial hall,' Layla explained, 'built long before I, or even my grandfather, was born. It might have once belonged to some wealthy settler, but no one has lived in it for generations.'
'We use it now for gatherings, and ceremonies, and even the occasional celebratory banquet – things that bring us all together. Some years, it further serves as a communal storage hall for excess grain,' she shrugged.
Arin raised his eyebrows. 'It looks rather well-maintained for a building that old,' he said.
'It looks well-maintained because we maintain it well, Rin,' the young lady laughed. 'It is said that the building was here before there even was a village. Lullwater might have first been based around it. We undertake regular upkeep; painting the walls, polishing the wood,' Layla paused, 'which reminds me, we must clear away that ivy soon.'
They had walked on for about half-a-minute more, when finally –
'Here we are!' Layla exclaimed, closing her fist to snuff out her palm-fire-thing.
She sped up, hurrying along a short path of packed earth and up to a door. It was barely illuminated by the cozy light of a dimmed lantern, hanging by a hook. The house itself sat at the edge of a small garden of wildflowers. The front was swept clean, and a small stack of firewood rested against the entrance.
Upon reaching the door, she pushed it open without knocking. 'We've a guest, Ma,' she called inside. 'A traveler from the outside. He'll take the spare bed tonight.'
The aroma of stew greeted Arin first; thick and rich, with clear hints of onion and some kind of meat. The hearth was crackling in the main room, and the walls were close, hung with tools and dried herbs. A plump, kind-looking woman turned from the table in the middle, hands dusted in flour. She raised her brows at the sight of him.
'Oh, of course! Come on in.' She was already reaching for another bowl.
'Good evening, ma'am,' Arin drew upon his practiced polite smile. 'My name is Rin. Thank you for having me for tonight.'
'Well, Rin, why not stay a while longer? You will not find out hospitality lacking,' the woman said, now busily fussing with the fire under the pot. Layla ran over and lowered its intensity with a wave of her hand. Her mother smiled at her
'Will your grandfather be joining us then?' she asked.
'He was with Sir Garan earlier. They might spend the night drinking together.'
'That old man will die drunk with a smile on his face…' the older woman said to Rin conspiratorially, shaking her head.
Layla laughed at her words. 'Rin had met grandfather already! He was by the gates when he first arrived!'
'An outsider? A rare sight.' From a side room entered a broad man with a thick beard and sleeves rolled to the elbow. He gave Arin a steady look, then offered a firm handshake. 'If you stay longer, we could use a sturdy lad like you out in the fields.'
Before Arin could decline, his attention was drawn by another pair of voices, emerging from the room Layla's father had just been in. The door was cracked open, and he could see two pairs of curious eyes peering up at him from about knee-height.
'Is sister to be wed?'
'Her man will help in the fields, will he?'
'She will finally be wed!'
'No one is to be wed, Lira!' Layla had, at some point, left the pot and rushed over to throw the door open. She glared down at a girl and a boy – possibly twins – who couldn't have been older than ten. A red blush was spreading across her face, making her appear even more beautiful somehow.
Quickly turning to look at Arin, she added, 'Don't mind them. They have more questions than manners. Or brains.'
Their father had also walked over, gently ruffling one of the children's hairs as he said, 'Don't trouble your sister with such talk.'
'But sister is already an old maid!'
'Can she not wed this man?'
'A spinster!'
*
Dinner was hearty and filling. The family ate together at the sturdy wooden table, and conversation was light. Layla's siblings talked over each other, full of energy. Her mother occasionally hushed them with a touch to the shoulder or a glance, but never harshly.
They asked where Arin was headed, and seemed to be satisfied enough by him simply saying 'East'. Contrary to what he had feared, no one pried too deeply. It felt like they truly were just happy to share a meal with someone new.
Afterwards, Arin took it upon himself to do the dishes as thanks for their hospitality. The older woman had only relented when Layla chimed in to say that she would also help.
And so, as the rest of the family settled into their evening, the two of them were left alone again.
Arin scraped their bowls into a trough and washed them clean in a basin of lukewarm water. Layla stood by, ready to dry and put them away. They maintained a light, steady flow of conversation, continuing from dinnertime.
Thanks to his comfortably full stomach, Arin had almost completely relaxed into a sleepy sort of daze. After a long, terrifying, and confusing day, he finally didn't have to worry about keeping up appearances or carefully watching his every word.
Or so he'd thought.
Layla was wringing out her drying cloth to one side while talking, 'But I must say, Lullwater really is quite secluded. We have no reason to leave, nor any to seek out trade. For most of us, our only interaction with the outside is through the occasional traveler, such as yourself.'
'In all my years, I have only ever seen four outsiders before you. They have all been hermits or runaways. So, forgive my curiosity,' she tilted her head to meet Arin's gaze, 'but I would love to know the details of what brings you to these parts.'