Yarti/Fannah - This Too

A rusted doorbell cried out as my weight came against the oaken door. Scents of mildew and dust assaulted the nose. Not the best first impression, I thought. On our left, a Dunmer woman, garbed in hood and black. She stood behind the counter, rearranging crates before she noticed a short mother and shorter daughter stumbling into her dimly lit shop. Older than I, yet she made some attempt to take care of her skin, as much was obvious even from this distance. Atop her thin frame, fine silks that would do well with the bulk of my wardrobe. Long-faced and heavy featured. Beneath the hood rolled two bounds of long orange hair, and about her neck and chest, an assortment of silver works. She carried herself in a tired and humble way.

Her hooded head at once rose, smiling, she greeted us. "Oh, good evening".

I laid my bag by the doorframe, full to the brim with the chores of the day. "Good evening. We had just finished shopping and were about to head home, but my daughter wanted to see if you were open. I told her it was too soon but she is somewhat insistent." This building had been abandoned for months, yet today, we found a new sign upon the door. I peered down at Fannah with the last words. One glance prompted her to turn away. Perhaps in fear that I would reveal the tantrum that she had thrown just outside the door.

The woman laughed halfheartedly. "Not quite. But I could let you look at a few things." She swept her sleeve across the countertop as she spoke. "I do apologize for the mess. It has been a long week. I was just getting started honestly."

"Perhaps another time then?"

She cackled. "Nonsense!" Finishing dusting off the counter, she lugged up a crate from beneath it and proceeded to spread common necklaces and rings across it.

"Most of the stock is still in the back, unsorted." She pointed to each piece and named the price. On her finer pieces, she would bring it into the light and demonstrate it against her neck or finger. Professional. The prices were quite low, but they were mostly common goods. Fannah stood by me, tiny red eyes trying as they might to peer over the edge of the counter. At times a ring or circlet would reflect the dancing candlelight in such a way to grab her attention. I pondered as I perused the spread wares, knowing that Fannah would have another tantrum if we walked away empty-handed. An idea crossed my mind. "Do you have anything with butterflies or moths?"

The shopkeep clasped her hands and spun around. "But a moment", her soft voice sang before disappearing into the backroom. Fannah had a certain suspicious look about her. A look I knew too well. Boredom, and the mischievous curiosity it brings. What was to come would be obvious to any that knew her, yet to her, it was secret and we would do nothing to dispel that notion. It was her special thing. I would let her have her fun so long as she stayed within these walls. Amidst the quiet store, finely tuned ears might pick up the sizzling of a spell, though she did well to hide the glow of her palms behind the fold of her dress. Low as it might be, nearly lost in the background sounds. The roar of the fireplace or the searching of our host in the backroom, they sought to cover it. Yet ears finely tuned, they heard her. In that instant, a subtle change in the room. The warmth felt by hand on her back, ever so different. Coils of hair gone from my fingertip, then back again. The invisible looming presence stepping behind me, upon its tiptoes to peer over our shoulders. The planks did bend, loudly even. A disembodied gasp and another spell, a soft crackle to muffle her feet once she had realized the sound. The illusion beside me smiled and in a monotone voice, asked for a snack as the real Fannah began to explore.

She went first to the adjacent room, a doorway blocked only by a draped curtain. The curtain threw itself open in the most odd way, yet I felt no draft. Struggling, I concealed my grin and wondered if perhaps someone unseen might have lifted it. Her wandering eyes likely scouted the room before finding nothing of interest. The curtain fell and across the way, a book tumbled to the floor. The Fannah beside me looked to the fallen book then back to me, shrugging as she fiddled with her treat. Oddly enough, she had not yet given it so much as a nibble.

The Fannah beside me pointed to the far wall, an attempt to keep my attention off of the book as she hoisted it back onto the shelf. Candle smoke at the edge of the counter suddenly moved as though someone had walked past it. Wood splintered and cracked, the counter bowed as though someone had clamored atop it. Rings bounded and rolled, bouncing as they struck the floor. The illusion turned me around, questioning about books on the shelf as the rings magically found their way back onto the countertop. With that, the room fell silent for a moment. Concerning, but my concern was soon lifted by voices from the backroom. "I think we have rats yet, I hear them chewing and rummaging back here. One knocked over a display, I'll be just a moment longer."

With that, hurried breaths crossed the room. Fright, like if one were caught doing something they should not. Those breaths drew closer until I felt a presence at my side again. The quick spark of a spell, then it was over. The warmth beneath my hand was as it should be. Little Fannah peered down at her treat with menacing eyes before beginning to nibble away at it. I patted her on the head and rose to greet the shopkeep who had just turned the corner. In her hands, a small chest. As we spoke, Fannah wandered off again, paying little attention to the chest and it's contents.

She found herself at the window, idly making faces at passerby. Bored again. The silent fluttering of powdered wings at last caught her eye, a moth flapped beneath the chandelier. Awestruck as always, she stood beneath it and was content. The shopkeep pried open the tiny chest to reveal a tinier hairclip. A butterfly. I took it from the chest and walked over to Fannah, clipping it into her hair.

"Perfect."

The sight of it made her eyes wide, she grinned and clutched at it. She then looked up to our host and let out a low "Thank you" before returning her attention to her new friend. "Let it be a gift. To my first customers." the woman proclaimed, turning away the coin before her. A moment of joy, interrupted by a soaring jar.

Fannah levitated the jar between us then let it drop to the counter with a thud. I knelt to peer through the glass. Inside, the moth. Addled and confused but seemingly unharmed.

"I want this too"