At First Sight

He had been too late. Tendrils of smoke rose darkly up into the air and the scent of burned flesh, thatch and wood was still thick there as her charred remains hung loosely upon the post. He hadn’t realized the shock of it had forced him to the ground or made his body convulse and empty itself out of everything he had eaten that morning. The burned husk that was left of her and of the child that she bore inside her womb made his heart die inside of his chest. His child and with it, the last embers of the part of him that was decent and human. He wept uncontrollably on his hands and knees and vainly he reached out a hand toward her. Tears and spittle escaped his eyes, nose and mouth as he crawled. They had piled up timbers and thatch and shackled her to a squared beam at the center of it. The blackened grass around the burned wood was in contrast to the bright green grass that surrounded it and continued on in every direction. This place was in the main square of the village. A place where the constable carried out punishments for crimes. Never had they burned someone like this before though. Already there were people. Villagers who wanted another look at the Witch or only just needed to pass by to get to where they needed to go. Murmurs rose up as people paused to watch him. Most knew Marna to be a kind, generous woman. Excited to be starting a family of her own and taking her place among the many women who had a children or several of them. He didn’t really see them nor Sloan, one of the Deputies that had take part in the burning.

The shadows had betrayed him. Normally he’d sense something from them if Marna was in trouble. He didn’t really understand the how or why of it. Only that he did, sometimes. Not this time though and he suspected he knew why. They wanted to protect him. If he had tried to stop this, he would have been killed himself.

When the hook of fear filled you you did things you normally wouldn’t do. He imagined he could see their faces. Emery, the ferrier. Dana, his wife who used to bring them sweet cakes, sometimes. Their faces twisted in an rictus of fear and hate. Demanding that she burn in hell. An angry mob with the only intent to do murder though none present would have thought it so.

Witchborns were known to the world. Well, to part of it anyway. Witches who made the dark pact and who had already been with child sometime bore a Witchborn. A man or woman with exceptional powers or abilities. Marna was one of these as was He, himself. Over time Witchborns always seem to be able to detect one another if they are close in proximity and spend any length of time near one another. Marna was a beautiful woman. WIth long, dark curls and deep brown eyes that drew him in almost immediately. He had loved her dearly and his heart ached as he looked up at her.

Sloan was not a tall man and he had short, dark hair with a thin, pale face and complexion. He had a slightly hooked nose and he was joined by Pete, Wendell and Father Jamon, the priest who had always liked Nathan but his face had taken on a dark, suspicious look as they approached him. Before Nathan even noticed them Sloan struck him hard in the head with his cudgel. Nathan fell to the side as blood poured from the gash that the heavy blow made. The three men dragged him away toward the Jailhouse as he wailed for Marna into the night air…

Just over a year later…

As far as smithies went, this one was very nice. Nathan had worked in several over the past year. Some little more than minor affairs with only the most basic equipment. This one was one of the largest he had ever seen and there was a forge in the back of it with mold sand boxes made fo wood in several sizes. Skillfully he hammered away at upon a bent piece of metal that was going to become a sickle to harvest wheat. He bent the long, slender roll of red hot metal then hammered a few times then bent it a little more to form the curved blade. The process was complicated but he had done it many times in the past. He paused to grab up the large tongs then with the red hot blade grasped tightly he dashed it into a barrel filled with oil then took it out and began hammering on it again to flatten the blade.

Owen Killian was the owner of the smithy and he had been impressed by how skilled Nathan was. Not many folk knew what Nathan did but not many here had come from England either. Nathan’s father had been a blacksmith and his father before him. Though he had only been adopted he continued the tradition with all the skill and experience as if he had been born to it. He turned and quenched the blade once more than worked the bellows to increase the heat of the coals as he set the hot blade back down into them to temper.

As towns went Groveland was not the largest but the people here seemed friendly enough. Children played in the cobbled street nearby the shop and he was taken in as a boarder by Dana Baxter who had a place that was only a few blocks from the smithies. Nathan didn’t much care to stay anywhere too long. When you became too familiar with people they could find out things that might burn you in the end...literally. Tirelessly he worked, thick, sweaty arms pounded down upon the curved hot steel, flattening it into the shape he wanted it to be in Owen had to pick up supplies and though Nathan had only been in town for a few days he left the shop to him. Nathan had an honest face, he had said and Nathan threw himself into the work. His hair was pulled back and tied by a thin, silver chain that used to belong to Marna. Smithing helped him to not think about her so often. You had to focus on what you were doing lest the piece you formed became scrap within a single hammer stroke. Marna still lived though in his dreams when he closed his eyes at night.

Sabella walked swiftly down the hallway towards The Oracle's room. She had been summoned early that morning and she knew that it must be important and she did not want to keep him waiting. She knew the hallways of this mansion well and could easily walk them blindfolded. She had been living there since she was 13 and now at 21 years of age she knew that she owed the fact that she was still alive to The Oracle.

Sabella Hunter had been born to poor parents in the city slums and was their first and only child. Her father, ten years her mother's senior, had been a drunk and regularly beat her mother for not giving him a son. Sabella's mother fiercely protected Sabella against her own father and would not let him touch her. However, the protection against her father vanished after her mother died of fever one winter when Sabella was seven years old. Her father blamed her for his wife's death and took to beating her.

While Sabella had always been a beautiful child, as she began to mature she became exceptionally beautiful. With long, dark hair that curled slightly down her back and bright green eyes that stood out against her ivory skin she began to draw the attention of men as soon as she hit the age of 13. Her lips and cheeks had a natural rosy tint to them and as her body began to fill out her curves stood out with anything she wore. Her father had only ever struck her and had never made any advances towards her, but late one night after drinking quite heavily he began to touch and say things to her that no father should ever say to his daughter. Sabella refused his advances which sent her father into a fit of rage unlike she had ever seen before. He ripped at her clothes and threw her down onto the floor, calling her a whore and a slut. She screamed and cried and begged him to stop. As he began to unbuckle his pants her fear overtook her and she felt a strange rush of power surge through her. Objects in the room began to move as if there was an earthquake, but the ground beneath her stayed still. Suddenly, these objects began to hurl themselves at her father as he hovered above her. They smashed into his head and body, allowing her to scramble up from underneath him. Anger flowed through her and she knew in that moment that she wanted to see him dead. As this thought crossed her mind her father's own dagger, which had been lying on the table suddenly began to hover in the air. It turned and then flew at her father's back, stabbing him straight through the heart. In shock, Sabella just stood there watching her father die before her eyes. She didn't realize until a moment later that someone had been standing at the window and had seen what had just happened. The man ran quickly through the streets screaming out that Sabella was a witch. Horror spread through Sabella and she turned and quickly ran out of the house with only the ripped clothes on her back. Sabella ran through the streets, hearing the shouting behind her. As she turned one corner she ran straight into The Oracle. He looked down at her and told her she needed to come with him and that he would protect her. Without a word, Sabella went with him.

The Oracle became her new father. He took her into his home and taught her that her abilities weren’t something to be ashamed of. She was gifted and could use her abilities to do good. He taught her how to better understand her abilities, which included not only telekinetic powers, but also telepathic powers. Sabella was raised by The Oracle and given the life she had only ever dreamed of. She became very well read and well educated and began to help The Oracle find more people like her, whom were referred to as Witchborns, and bring them to his refuge. Sabella served The Oracle loyally and without question. The two shared a special bond and he often referred to her as his daughter. She was thus far one of the most powerful Witchborns he had ever located and everyday her powers seemed to grow.

Upon reaching The Oracle’s room she paused before walking in. She stood before him, ready to do as he asked.

“You wished to see me?”

No one really knows much about The Oracle. He had never told anyone his name nor does he really know it. His first rememberings was when he woke up in a convalescent home to find that he was no longer a young man. If he ever had been. He had no memories save for what he knew though he couldn’t say how or why he knew it. Before too long he became aware of when the older people were going to die. And then also others things. Accidents and miracles. Bad happenings and wonderful events. He could see the future at times and never did he tell anyone what he saw for fear that such knowledge would only make things worse.

He had assumed the identity of one of the wealthier men who lived there and as a result was able to buy a large estate a few miles out into the country near Groveland, a large town in Massachusetts. Now he takes in those with extraordinary abilities that the populous of most towns and villages would say were the devil’s work. The Oracle believes that most people have a desire to do good but that doesn’t always happen. Some of his former students have wreaked havoc on the world and now he has made it his mission to seek out others with special abilities and bring them into the fold. Not only to protect themselves but those he has gathered here The Oracle is old, though how old no one really knows. He has graying hair and is fairly thin with light blue eyes and light skin from staying indoors more than he should. He can get around fine but sometimes his joints stiffen up and cause him pain though he tries to hide it as much as he can.

One of his students had drawn two pictures in black ink. He looked at them and knew what they meant. This student was a bit like him in that he could see into the future or at least, dream of it. Unable to speak he is able to write and make the most amazing drawings. The two before him, one was of a man holding a child bathed in light that almost appeared biblical. The other was of a man’s face, half of it bathed in shadow, the other half in light. This one in particular bothered him for he knew ‘who’ it was. It wasn’t always that the future happened the way he had foreseen it. Indeed sometimes things changed unexpectedly and what should have happened had not for good or ill. His face took on a very troubled look as he studied these drawings. If the half of him that embraced the dark were to...unleash his abilities gain, it could threaten everything and everyone here. And though he had a code about divulging or taking an active role in the future, that was something he wasn’t prepared to allow. He heard a knock and the door opened to reveal Sabella. He set the two drawing down to receive her.

“Ah..Sabella,” he said with a sigh as if seeing her was just what he needed right then. He rose as she entered then stooped to give her a hug and a kiss on her left cheek as he always did. “I was hoping you had returned,” he said as he gestured for her to sit. She would catch a bit of concern and worry upon his surface thoughts but what is buried beneath that was always unreadable to her. A mixture of abstract images and languages she had never heard from. Even so he smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Would you be a dear and make me some tea?” He asked. A kettle was almost always near the fireplace and he normally took tea just after lunch like now. As she did he began to talk…

He began by asking her how her trip was and if she had brought back the young girl that make animals and insects do what she wanted but she would know that he wanted something, something she wasn’t going to like.

Sabella immediately strode towards him and returned his hug. She smiled when she felt his kiss on her cheek. His presence always brought her a sense of peace, no matter what all was happening. However, she immediately sensed concern from him which caused her some worry. When he asked her to make him some tea she nodded.

"Of course Father," she replied before walking over to the kettle. The water was already hot and she began to fix his tea how she knew he liked it prepared. She heard him ask her about her trip and whether she had been successful in bringing back the girl she had been tasked with finding.

"Yes, I did find her," she said as she handed him his cup of tea. She then went to fix a cup for herself. "I brought her back and she is upstairs with Rose getting settled in. I had no trouble during the trip thankfully. I was rather worried since that area has been on high alert for the past few weeks."

She was quiet a moment as she finished preparing her tea. She then brought her cup over and sat down beside him. She left the cup in her lap and looked over at him.

"What is it Father?"

He glanced again briefly at the two drawings and then picked up his tea to enjoy a simple comfort with his daughter for awhile. “The world changes and all we can do is continue to race with it and keep up,” he said as he inhaled the scent of the tea. His lips curled in a small smile to her question. He normally didn't like sending her away and so soon after she returned but this...this man that he had seen would require tact and in any case even as she sat there the clockwork of what made up time and space began to move and shift. The fabric of what was to come was being laced and she was part of it now.he knew that like he knew his tea was hot.

“There is man,” he said after he had taken a sip. And too abruptly to play it all off now. “In the town,” he began with a distant look in his series as the time lace shifted and spun in his mind. “So...difficult to see, he is bathed in blood, and fire...and darkness,” he said though he hadn’t noticed the deep concern come over Sabella’s face. “He is pained by the past and he needs us,” he told her cryptically.

As Sabella listened to her father memories of a dream began to flash back into her mind. Her face paled slightly and she nearly dropped her tea onto the floor. Several items in the room began to tremble and shake, but she quickly regained composure and control of her abilities.

"I...I'm sorry Father. I dreamt of what you have just spoken not two nights ago. I could see the fire and the blood and a man but I could not see his face. It all seemed so...real. It was as if I was there with him. I could almost feel the heat from the flames...smell the blood."

She put down her tea without taking a sip. "I have been able to feel others like ourselves, but I have never dreamt of them like that. What does this mean Father?"

For a long moment that seemed to stretch on and on for hours he snapped out of his dark thoughts and then smiled over at her. He took a sip of his tea and then took an account of what she had said. “Well of course you do, that is your gift and you’ve only just begun to tap into your potential. Life...all life has a purpose for I'll or good. The tides of change can not be stopped or guided to an outcome that will always suit us,” he replied cryptically. “Others seek him out to account for what happened in Boxford. 

What was already known amongst Witchborns was that over a year ago someone nearly burned the village of Boxford down to the ground. Who it was or if they even survived is not known but The Oracle’s words had just given Sabella more information on that rumor. 

“There are no certainties my dear so that is why I need you to go and...observe this man. How you do this is of course at your desertion but we need to learn about this man,” he said in a serious tone. “I won't ask you to be careful, I know you will be,” he said as he lightly tapped the back of her hand and smiled at her.

Sabella listened closely to what her father told her. She could tell from his words and body language that he was concerned. There wasn't much that rattled him, but there was something he knew that he wasn't telling her. Of this she was certain. However, she would do as he asked without question, as she always had.

"Of course Father. Can you at least tell me this man's name and what he does in the village so I may locate him?"

The old man just looked at her for a few moments. He knew what was going to happen alright but he also knew not all was certain. If he gave too much right now it could very well change all that was before them. He opened the right drawer of his desk and with a steady hand he lifted out an oiled cloth that clinked when he shifted it then sat it down before her. 

“His name is Nathan Carver, and he is a blacksmith. Quite a skilled one I should say,” he said as he opened the cloth to reveal several gold coins. “Check with Martin, I'm certain he has several items that need mending, that should provide a suitable reason for your appearance,” he said. 

Martin was somewhat of a quartermaster for the estate. He doled out weapons, equipment and other things for those that needed them and he expected that you returned what you took. He wasn't unkind exactly but he had a militant way about him that made him difficult at times to deal with. The Oracle put his hand over hers. He wasn't certain if this was right or not but something inside of him made him feel as if he needed to.

“Daughter, he has lost much and has little to live for. A delicate hand is what may be required here. He may not be like anyone you've met before. Take a care with him,” he said and gave her hand a squeeze.

Sabella listened quietly as The Oracle told her more about this man. Nathan Carver. Somehow the name felt familiar to her and yet she did not know how that was possible. She could only assume that his name had come to her in one of her dreams.

She nodded when he suggested she go to Martin for something she could take to the shop for repair. That thought had already crossed her mind. It sometimes frightened her how much their minds had aligned over the years. Even though she could not read his thoughts she quite often knew them without knowing it. She began to reach for the small bag of coins when he placed his hand over hers. She listened and then slowly nodded as she thought about what he had said.

"Of course Father. You do not need to worry. I will find him and I will return as soon as I can."

She stood and picked up the bag of coins and slowly began to walk out of the room. She paused, only for a moment, to look back at him before exiting the room. She walked quickly down into the basement where Martin worked and kept the weapons and equipment. Even though it was a basement, it was well lit and very well organized. She did not see Martin at first and began to look around for him.

"Martin?"

Martin was just past his middle years with patches of white on the sides of his long, black hair. He was a large, well muscled man who always wore a long, dark green wool coat as if it were a uniform. He has large brown eyes and a stern face that might be considered handsome if he ever lost that discerning look in his eyes. Even so a few of the women that had stayed at the estate had found their way into his bed on occasion. He thought Sabella to be attractive but he didn't trust her nor did he like he relationship with The Oracle.martin’s ability was his strength and involnerabilities. His flesh was not easy to pierce and it was said he could take a shot to the chest and not be harmed. 

The basement was lined with metal shelves with all sorts of things from blankets to saddles to weapons and everything in between. Off to the right was his workshop where he repaired things that needed it. She sensed him there and knew he must be working on something if he didn't hear her.

He was also somewhat of an inventor and often he supplied her with useful items that had helped her out of tight spots in the past. He heard her call and when she entered his workshop he held up a finger. “I'll be with ya in a moment, jus wait!” He barked. He had his goggles on and his right hand held a pair of tweezers and at the end of them was a only blue crystal. He gently dropped it into a cup of viscous fluid. Once he did a haze of blue smoke appeared then dissipated quickly above the cup. Next to the cup was a tray with several small vials. Carefully he picked up the cup with a pair of tongs and put the blue liquid inside the tiny vials. When he was done he corked each one then took off his goggles and stood to address her.

“What can I do ya fer lassy?” He asked. As always he took in her shape. He wanted to see what her breasts looked like out of her dress and the rest of her too but his eyes quickly shifted back up to her hers and that same, discerning expression he always held was back once more.

Martin was not an easy man to work with. He was short tempered and not entirely pleasant. However, he did possess a rugged handsomeness that continued to lure women into his bed. Sabella was still fairly young, but she was by no means stupid and she knew Martin had ill thoughts of her. For that reason alone she never went into his mind. She didn't want to see what he was thinking of her.

She waited, albeit impatiently, for him to finish what he was doing. As he finally looked at her she saw his eyes take in her body. He was always subtle about it, but she always noticed.

"The Oracle has detected another Witchborn. A man by the name of Nathan Carver who works as a blacksmith in the village. I am being sent to speak to him and The Oracle thought it would be helpful for me to bring something with me that might need repair. I have been given money to cover the cost."

To say that Martin disagreed with sending a woman out into the field would have been an understatement. Samborra was young and he mumbled his disapproval as he produced several tools wrapped in an oiled cloth. The tools were not simple mundane tools, they appeared to be for more refined work...of some kind. 

“No simple blacksmith would be able to repair these. Present them as needing repair and you shouldn't have any issue with your a...cover story,” he said. As he set out the other tools for her he mumbled about how dangerous it all was for a woman these days and other things. Along with the wrapped tools he took 2 of the tiny blue vials out of their case and set them down. 

“Incase he don't come so quietly...throw one of em down onto the floor near em and he’ll be out for hours,” he said as if it were of no real import.

Sabella was well aware of Martin's disapproval with her work. However, she was well trained and not afraid of the work. They had found that people responded more easily to Sabella and were more willing to talk to her. She looked down at the tools he placed down before her and was quite honestly unsure of what any of them were or what they did. However, she didn't need to know that. She only needed them. She was about to pick up them up when Martin then set down two blue glass vials. She remembered he had been working with something just like it whenever she had walked in. She raised an eyebrow when he told her how to use them, but took them anyhow. From what The Oracle had told her, this man might not come willingly. She was going to need to bring a horse and cart just in case.

"Well...thank you Martin. I shall return your tools to you once I am finished with them."

His only response was a grunt and a dismissive gesture with his hand as he pulled his goggles back down to continue his work.

Back upstairs the halls were filled with people. Obviously classes had broken up and men, women and children moved to get where they needed to go. Amy spotted her, a young girl who she had found last year and considered her now like a big sister. She hugged her tightly and pulled back to smile up at her. 

Amy was thin and not tall with bright blue eyes and hair that looked like curls of spun gold. She was quite lovely and had come a long way since the day Sabella found her almost starved on the streets. “Are you going on another adventure?” She asked as she helped her with her burdens. “I was hoping we could spend some time together,” she said excitedly. “I do so need your counsel,” she added as they walked. “Hi Sabella!” Thomas and Kevin said as they passed them.

OOC-Her name is actually Sabella

IC-Sabella took the tools and the vials, which she tucked into one of her pockets. She then walked back upstairs. The hallways were suddenly full of life and Sabella knew that classes had just gotten out. The Oracle took education very seriously and everyone who lived at the estate was instructed in literature, math, history, and sciences. Sabella had received the kind of education here that she had once only dreamed about.

Looking up she saw Amy come running towards her. She had found her last year and since then the two of them had become very close. She smiled and hugged her back.

"Yes, I have to go again, but hopefully I won't be gone long this time. What is it though that you need my counsel for?"

Amy's power was that she had the ability to sense others emotions. Amy sighed an exasperated sigh and looked down at her feet as they walked. “I...well there’s this boy…” she began. “Rory Shumer,” she continued. “I...I really like him Sabella,” she said in what came out as an exasperated whine. “But that that hussy Rachael has got her hooks into em and and ...oh I don't know what to do!” She said as if her entire world depended on this Rory’s affections. 

Other people passed by them and some of the young men smiled and greeted them as they passed.

Sabella already knew that Amy had feelings for Rory, even without reading her mind. It was obvious from the way she looked at him. She remembered looking that way at Westley. A sharp pain filled her heart at that memory...and of the way he looked back at her.

"Amy, the only way to know how he feels is to talk to him. I don't even think he likes Rachael to be honest. You are beautiful and smart and he would be a fool not to like you. You cannot go through life wondering 'what if' all the time. Sometimes you have to just take a deep breath and take that leap of faith. If I hadn't done that with Westley..." she paused a moment as she remembered sobbing over his dead body. Even two years later it was still incredibly painful to think about. "...if I hadn't done that with Westley then I wouldn't have had the happiest years of my life."

Amy practically beamed with hope at her words and gave Sabella one last hug before she had to leave her. Everywhere she went people, the young and older greeted Sabella and wished her well. Most were happy and enthusiastic. Where their lives before they came here were filled with fear and hopelessness. 

Peter, one of the stable hands had already curried and saddled Galleon, a large, dark brown gelding. The broad horse had taken a musket shot to his rear and an arrow to his chest and still managed to carry her back each time. He stood tall and ready As he stomped his foot when he saw her in obvious excitement that she would be taking him out today. 

“I'll pack those away fer ya ma’am,” Peter said as he took her burdens. “He’s been favorin is right foreleg but I can nay fine anythin wrong with it, ya goin I ya groveland? Sumpthin happening?” He asked as he packed her things into the saddlebags. He was always a bit of a gossip around the estate and liked to know things.

Sabella gave Amy one last hug before sending her on her way to her next class. She then went back to her own rooms and re-packed her bag. She paused for a moment as her eyes fell upon the well worn leather chair in the corner of the room. That had been Westley's favorite spot and he used to read aloud to her from that chair in the evenings. Since his death she had not had the heart to sit in the chair herself, but neither could she give it up. She ran her fingers along the soft brown leather and sighed a little before putting on her cloak.

While it had been raining that morning, the sky was now clear, which Sabella appreciated. She always hated traveling in the rain. She walked down to the stables with her bags and was not surprised to find her favorite gelding, Galleon, already saddled and ready to go. She smiled at Peter and allowed him to take her bags. She listened when he told her that he was favoring his right foreleg somewhat and nodded.

"I will be on the lookout for that. I am going to the village to speak to a man there who may have abilities like ours. I shouldn't be gone too long."

She did not want to say much more because she knew Peter would gossip. She mounted Galleon and looked at him.

"I should be back in a few days."

Peter made an argument about her going alone and cited about just having someone to watch her back and wouldn't it be easier to have a man ‘fill’ that role? Sabella was a very lovely woman and not many men looked at her as an equal regardless of what she had already done nor for her relationship with the Oracle. Her father frowned upon that but he had also frowned upon her relationship with Westley. Had he known that it would all end in his death? Was his passing just another omission by him to allow the future to happen as it was suppose to be? Did he know something about this Nathan Carver that he would not say? 

The road was damp and surprisingly there were quite a few people on the road East to Groveland. An older couple on their wagon that was being pulled by 2 mules. Their son had died recently when he had picked a fight with the wrong man. There were several people on horses of varying shapes, sizes and colors. Some just needed to get from one place to another. Some noticed her and some did not, contented to continue on their way. 

As towns went Groveland was not a bad place. It had churches and schools, stores and banks and gathering halls. Most streets were cobbled stone with a few of the smaller ones still packed dirt or gravel that needed to be grated from time to time. Coaches driven by teams of horses, carts, horses with men and even women and scores of people a foot were all around her. Hawkers cried out their wares or their foods and the deluge made up the bustle of the town. Dark smoke billowed out of several chimneys which seemed to collect together to make a dark fume high over the rooftops. The smithy was in the industrial quarter next to the ferriers shop and the glass blower and foundry. The nearby furnaces increased the temperature of the area by several degrees. Something Westley used to always remark about. When she dismounted no one was nearby to take her horse and in her mind’s eye she heard Westley’s voice. 

“I bet they’ve got something big going on in there,” he said as he would take off his hat and wipe his brow. He favored a long, tan dust coat and a darker brown hat that made him look more of a country boy than anything else. And in truth he was. He could track anyone if he knew their scent like a bloodhound. ‘Her’ bloodhound who loved her unconditionally. The images of him quickly faded as a boy came out of the smithy to dump a pale of sooty water into the street. He hadn't noticed her and hurried back inside. There was one other man inside that she could sense but his thoughts were odd. Hardly like the man that she might envision as described to her by her father.

(OOC-when she goes inside there will be a third man, Nathan all whom she had not detected)

Sabella knew that many thought that she should not be doing the work that she was because she was a woman, but she honestly did not care. As long as her father continued to need her, she was going to do whatever he asked...even if it meant going around the world. It was the least she could do for him after all that he had done for her.

Thankfully, there was not any rain, although the road was damp. The ride was rather uneventful and gave her time to clear her head. However, the closer she got to Groveland the more cloudy her head became. It was always a toss up when she got around crowds of people as to how well she was going to be able to control her powers. Today, because she had been thinking of Westley her mind had not been as focused as it should have been and suddenly her mind was overrun with the thoughts of all those she passed. She tried not to 'listen' to what she was hearing. She closed her eyes for a moment to try to push the voices out of her head and finally managed to get some quiet. However, with that quiet Westley returned...her Westley. She could hear his voice in her head. It sounded as if he was right next to her. She could see him in his tan duster and hat and that made her smile through the tears in her eyes.

Looking up she suddenly found herself in front of the blacksmith's shop. She had somehow made it there without realizing quite where she was going. She spotted a young boy coming out of the shop to dump some dirty water. He was clearly a shop boy and not the man she was looking for. She dismounted her horse and slowly walked over to one of the windows and peeked inside. She spotted a man, but his thoughts were cloudy and she was unable to read them. She knew then that this must not be Nathan either. She tied up Galleon and grabbed the bag of tools before walking inside the black smith's shop.

Inside the large shop, the temperature was suddenly much higher and the strong smell of smoke, sulfur and burned oil was thick in the air. The young boy she had seen worked the bellows and the sound of a large hammer on steel rang out all around her. The proprietor whom she knew, Garlan Cedrail did not seem to be there. Only the boy, another man who she had never met but knew to be Canlan, a laborer who dipped freshly wrought blades into hot oil to quench them for more tempering. The man who hammered at...something, she couldn’t see what it was supposed to be yet, was altogether closed to her. Digging into his mind was like reaching a hand into a thick, black viscous substance to touch what lay beyond. What she could sense was focus and intent until the hammering had stopped. Then he was aware of her and she could sense that he liked what he saw.

Nathan was tall with long, dark hair now damp from sweat and tied back with something that shone in the dim light. He wiped off his hands with a towel that hung from his belt. It was fairly dark inside the large workshop and as his eyes scanned across her face it appeared as if the shadows clung to his form and made it more difficult for her to see.

“So, what can I do ya for miss?” He asked politely. He spoke well and he allowed her to bring her burden up onto the counter.

Sabella stepped slowly into the shop. The temperature at first was almost too much for her to bear. It was very hot and loud inside the shop. The sounds filled her head and she could feel her powers beginning to slip for a moment. A few tools near her began to tremble, but thankfully no one was around to see it. She managed to regain composure quickly and finally take a good look around the shop. She spotted the young boy and then Canlan. She could hear hammering and looking over to her right she spotted him. Instantly, her mind connected with his, but she didn't see images. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever felt before and immediately she pulled back. It was then that he sensed her and slowly turned to look at her. Her eyes met his across the way and she could sense a feeling of approval from him as he looked at her. She had not been expecting Nathan to be as handsome as he was and for a moment her breath caught in her chest. She then quickly regained control of herself and slowly approached the counter with the bag.

"I have a few items in need of repair and I was told that Nathan Carver was the man to see. I've heard that you can repair just about anything that's metal," she said with a little smile. "Is that true?"