The Price of Silver and the Fight for a Friend

The crisp morning wind still carried a chill as Liuya, her bundled firewood secured to her back, stepped out with her companions, her feet clad in ill-fitting old shoes.

She, Annie, and Lilith parted ways at the village entrance, each heading towards their familiar clients’ homes.

Liuya made her way to the familiar house at the edge of the village—Elena Whitlow’s home.

Standing at the door, she raised a hand and knocked on the wooden panel.

However, it was not Elena Whitlow who answered, but a black-haired youth cloaked in a gold-trimmed robe.

Liuya froze for a moment.

Like herself, the youth before her had black hair and dark eyes; his appearance seemed strikingly out of place among the villagers.

Yet, unlike her, he bore no antlers on his head.

Their eyes met for a brief instant.

Liuya instinctively lowered her gaze, tugging at her hood, fearful of revealing her own horns.

“I’m… here to sell firewood,” she murmured softly.

He simply nodded, gesturing for Liuya to set the firewood down.

They exchanged a few brief words.

The youth spoke concisely and politely, devoid of any discrimination, aversion, or the customary ‘charitable tone’ she had grown accustomed to.

Then, he reached into his sleeve, producing several silver coins, and offered them to her.

Indeed, he gave her silver coins.

Typically, villagers would at most give Liuya a few pieces of moldy dry bread, or tattered old clothes; sometimes, they would offer nothing at all, merely telling her coldly to ‘come back next time.’

Their actions stemmed not from a lack of wealth, but from a perceived lack of necessity.

With silver coins, Liuya could now purchase proper goods from the peddler, or commission the village’s artisans or tailors to make her something.

If they were willing, that is.

Liuya carefully tucked away the silver coins and arranged the firewood.

Just as she was about to step out and express her gratitude to the youth, she realized he had already vanished without a trace.

Liuya secured the silver coins in the small cloth pouch sewn into her inner garment, then turned to leave.

Instead of returning to her small hut, she circled back to the clearing by the forest, hoisting another bundle of firewood onto her back, preparing to visit her next customer.

Liuya’s next regular client was an old woman with unsteady legs.

The very first time Liuya approached her door, before she could even speak, the old woman had struck her foot with a walking stick.

“Get lost, don’t come near my house! I don’t need your kind of monster firewood!”

Liuya had been so frightened then that she retreated, not daring to approach for several days.

It wasn’t until a sudden cold snap, when the old woman’s firewood ran out and she couldn’t bear the chill, that she reluctantly accepted a bundle of dry firewood from Liuya.

“Put the firewood down and leave quickly!” the old woman had snapped, tossing Liuya a few rock-hard, cold sweet potatoes.

From then on, Liuya delivered firewood every few days.

Over time, though the old woman’s words remained sharp, her eyes no longer held such cold indifference.

She often gave Liuya leftover cooked food, and sometimes even invited her to a brief ‘morning tea.’

Even so, the old woman would occasionally grumble about Liuya’s ‘untidily stacked firewood’ and similar complaints.

This time, Liuya arrived once more.

From a distance, she spotted the old woman sitting by the well, clad in an old coat, basking in the sun as she shelled pea pods.

The old woman cast a sidelong glance at Liuya.

“Hmph, back again to dump more rotten wood, a persistent nuisance you are.”

Yet, even as she spoke, her hand was already reaching into her basket for a dry biscuit.

“The firewood isn’t damp today, is it? That last bundle you brought nearly choked me to death when I burned it at night,” the old woman remarked.

“It’s dry today,” Liuya replied softly.

“Hmph, at least you’ve shown some improvement.”

The old woman grumbled, but her shelling of the pea pods slowed.

“Granny, today when I went to Elena Whitlow’s house… a young man opened the door,” Liuya mentioned casually.

She still harbored some concern for Elena Whitlow, fearing that some strange person had taken over the kind widow’s home.

The old woman paused, her eyes suddenly gleaming with an undeniable spark of gossip.

“Tsk, you mean that pale-faced fellow dressed like a priest?” the old woman said.

“I heard he’s a physician sent by the Order, staying at Elena Whitlow’s place. That lad has a peculiar look about him, handsome, yes, but with such a haughty air…”

She was in full swing, when she suddenly noticed the expression on Liuya’s face.

“Did he bother you?” the old woman inquired.

“No, this morning when I delivered firewood… he opened the door, and he even…” Liuya shook her head gently.

“He gave me silver coins.”

The old woman paused, her eyes shifting slightly.

“He, he gave you silver coins?”

“Yes,” Liuya nodded.

“The bigwigs from the Order are certainly different… Silver coins are useful in the village, so keep them safe and don’t squander them,” the old woman muttered, then glanced at Liuya again.

“I noticed that boy, with his black hair and black eyes, he actually looks quite a bit like you…”

Liuya was startled, remaining silent.

The old woman waved a hand, rose, and walked back to her doorway, pulling an old scarf from a crack in the doorframe.

“Take this; the wind is strong. Don’t come crying to me if your scrawny neck freezes into an icicle,” the old woman said.

Liuya numbly accepted the faded scarf, offering a quiet thank you.

“Don’t thank me. If you thank me, I won’t give it to you,” the old woman retorted, turning and walking away, her figure small and receding.

Watching her feigned gruff departure, Liuya nonetheless repeated her thanks.

There were quite a few such people in the village; they were all busy living their own lives, preoccupied with their own affairs, with no time to concern themselves with mysterious legends.

After spending time with them, they no longer scrutinized Liuya with strange looks.

They were simply constrained by village rules, unable to openly display their kindness.

Liuya returned to her firewood clearing, carefully hid the items the old woman had given her, then retrieved a new bundle of firewood and headed to the next household.

By evening, the wind was colder than usual, and clouds hung low over the forest.

Liuya had just returned from the village, her empty firewood basket on her back, her hand clutching the silver coins tightly.

She hadn’t brought herself to spend them.

She wanted to discuss it with Annie and Lilith before making a decision.

Perhaps she could buy Annie a new rag doll, or maybe even trade for a proper, large cut of meat.

Liuya was also looking forward to telling Annie and Lilith about the ‘mysterious doctor’ that evening, to show them that her appearance wasn’t strange at all, and that there were people in the Order who looked just like her.

Liuya had even planned how to mimic the old woman’s tone, casually flashing the silver coins she had earned, a small act of showing off.

But the moment she stepped into their dilapidated hut, all her expectations were extinguished by the icy air.

The fire hadn’t been lit, and the room was eerily quiet.

Liuya focused her gaze, only then noticing Annie kneeling in the corner, her face pale, eyes red-rimmed, and hands covered in blood.

She was supporting Lilith’s shoulder; Lilith was curled up, moaning, trembling all over, the clothing around her abdomen soaked with blood.

“W-what happened…?” Liuya’s eyes widened, her mind a blank.

“She… she went to the hunter on the mountain to trade for meat,” Annie’s voice was barely coherent.

“He was drunk and tried to grope her… Lilith resisted and he stabbed her…”

Liuya’s throat tightened, rendering her speechless for a long moment.

Lilith’s lips were pale, her eyes slightly open.

She weakly looked at Liuya, managing a faint smile.

“Was… was picking up meat… not worth it after all…?”

“Don’t talk!” Tears streamed down Annie’s cheeks.

“Don’t fall asleep… if you sleep, you’ll…”

Annie couldn’t finish, her entire body seeming to lose strength, her lips turning blue from biting them.

“Go fetch the doctor,” Liuya knelt, gazing at Lilith’s pallid face.

“It’s no use,” Annie shook her head.

“The old doctor in the village won’t treat us, and we have no money.”

“But… there must be…” Liuya suddenly remembered the silver coins in her hand.

She abruptly stood, spreading the coins on the ground.

“I-I have money, I can go find a doctor,” she declared firmly.

“Liuya, that old man won’t see us…” Annie looked up at her, her eyes filled with weariness and despair.

“I don’t care!” Liuya cried out, tears suddenly gushing from her eyes.

“I can’t just watch Lilith die like this!”

She stuffed the silver coins into her pocket and rushed out of the hut.

The wind fiercely whipped into her eyes, stinging her face like knives, but she paid it no mind.

She wasn’t sure if she could even see the doctor, as he lived in the center of the village.

That was where those troublesome ruffians, who had beaten her just a few days prior, often loitered.

If she encountered them, they would certainly not make things easy for Liuya.

Yet Liuya knew that even so, if she didn’t seek out the doctor now, Lilith would truly have no chance left.

She could not lose her friend.