Chapter One

Arlette weaved her way through the ferns and shrubbery that caressed her bare legs. A rusty watering can dangling empty from the tips of her fingers. A quiet hum falling in a soft melody from her lips as her free hand lifted to brush a strand of loose hair out of her face. After a night of sleepless tossing the woman had left the confines of her bed, escaping from her room as the first rays of sunshine had only just begun to show their light. Her cat, Mittens, had opened a single eye at her departure but otherwise made no indication that it cared.

Two hours of tending to her plants both inside and outside her small store had left the ginger haired woman speckled with drops of water and flecks of pollen. An ache in her bones from weeding but a satisfaction in her mind. Physical labour served Arlette well on such days, the ache would subside after she bathed, and her plants would grow all the more beautiful from her attentions. Placing the watering can down as she arrived at her back door the woman dusted her feet on the straw mat beneath them before venturing inside. The scent of freshly watered soil and lilies greeted her as she wove her way past the display tables and to the small stairs hidden behind the main counter.

Despite her need for a distraction Arlette wished dearly for a night when she would be able to sleep peacefully. It seemed lately such a wish was unattainable without the use of the costly sleeping draught from the apothecary. She had spent much of her earnings on the finest wool to fill her mattress, on silken sheets from passing merchants that felt like the smooth caress of air. It wasn't for lack of comfort that she could not sleep however, and it seemed save the sleeping draught Arlette simply must suffer through the nightmares that plagued her.

The feeling of the warm water as it poured from the faucet to her now bare skin was heavenly, indeed so that she allowed herself a moment to simply relish in the tension being leached away. A hand to brace against the tiles moves to instead wash over her body as her mind wanders. The Fae had left her another odd sapling the day before, it's leaves a kind she's only read from in old, torn books. Their gifts were common to the ginger, yet no one else in town held such favour.

Alette was well cared for as a consequence of this, the people both envious and relieved of the attention of such beings being focused on someone else. The Fae were not generous beings, their perceptions of good and bad were blurred, their magic dangerous because of this. Arlette had seen the horrors of the gifts they bestowed upon others, had been haunted by the screams for weeks after their last gathering.

However they were an existence that was respected none the less and their favour of Arlette could be seen as a blessing or a curse. The time spent with them had earnt the woman various talents, though all related to the living green. Her ability to raise plants in half their predicted cycle, the nourishing affects these plants had on humans, and equally so the more potent their poisons if they are of that species. No other could compete with Arlette's floristry, none dared to even try.

With such monopoly over the area she was able to earn a decent wage, to eat healthily and never fall below the medium social class. This was an expected outcome of her gifts, and as such was yet another gift bestowed by the Fae.

Yet with all their magic, all their foresight and cunning, they could not relieve her of her nightmares. Not that she was all too sure they ever tried seriously anyway. The spluttering of the water pipes draws the woman from her reprieve, and a hand idly turns the knobs to shut off the flow.

Dressed once more Arlette finds her way down to the store front, pulling out her wooden sign to indicate the beginning of her working day. Standing behind the counter at the back of the store she lets her gaze wander out the window. It was an odd sight as always, the wall that could be seen. Arlette lived in the small town known as Trefffin, meaning the Border Town as that's what it was. One of the few towns so close to the border between the Lands of Green and the Lands of Machine.

The barrier that separated the two lands was clear, as if nothing was there at all. Yet you could clearly tell something was. Up until a point there was lavish green meadows, then beyond was towering walls of buildings that were impossible to be built on their side.

The barrier was created over two hundred years ago, Arlette could still recall the stories her Mother would read to her when she was a child. Grand stories about when the Land of Green covered the whole world. Faes were worshiped far more back then, their gifts much higher in abundance. When she was young Arlette used to think that it was so strange to see the Land of Machine so close. She would sit by the border and watch the massive buildings move with oddly made gears. The way pretty orange and red flecks would flake off them and float almost mystically to the ground. Everything about the world on the other side seemed so different and amazing as a child.

As an adult she knew better. The odd clouds that always bellowed and pushed against the barrier were like poison to humans, the big machines were the cause. Those pretty flakes were a byproduct of the special metals that were called rust.

The whole world on the other side was filled with browns and greys, such dull colours. It showed the lives of the people there. Who had built to every border city, taken up all the land the Fae had given them. Then poisoned it to the point that they could barely survive.

Those people that lived there now, were all descendants of the original humans who chose to fight against the Fae. A truly foolish idea, even now she couldn't understand it. The Fae were certainly frightening, but to kill them would be to kill a part of this world. Their magic is what made life, what helped humans live so long with so little troubles.

The originals, or the Troa, discovered a metal that was poisonous to Fae. Fatal if used right. Until that point no one knew of any method to harm the mythical beings. As such with this discovery many who had been granted curse like gifts pulled from the woodwork. Mining this mineral, making weapons in bulk. Revenge they had shouted across the land as they started the war. For all those the Fae harmed.

It had not been enough of course, many died in that war humans and Fae alike. To stop the bloodshed an agreement had been made. Any who wished it could go beyond the barrier for the first twenty years, once you crossed over however you could not return. Those on the right of the barrier would never be bothered, or assisted by the Fae again as the Fae could not cross the barrier either. The humans on that side didn't get their revenge in full, but were forced to make peace with the outcome to end the war.

The ones that remained created a bond with the Fae, should these humans try to use the old mineral iron they would break out in rashes so fierce and painful they'd wish for death.

The chime of the bell pulls Arlette from her wandering thoughts, a soft smile on her lips. The first customer of the day was Marnie, the apothecary's wife. She was a stout woman, the hair on her head cut quite short but always bouncing in beautiful golden curls.

"Morning to you there Arl. I saw you earlier, tending your plants as you do. Another restless night?" She calls as she winds her way through the shelves of plants, a finger like a sausage moving to trace a petal of a particular flower before moving on. Arlette simply nods in response.

"Well you know how they plague me Marnie, such frightful things I wouldn't wish them upon anyone." She responds, arms moving to rest on the counter in front of herself. Leaning on the wood she watches as the older lady finally reaches her, placing a plain paper bag on her counter with the sound of clattering glass.

"I've bought you some more of the draught from Bryant, he says these ones will help you sleep and also give your skin a bit of a glow." She declares rather proudly for someone Arlette knew held no part in the creation of the remedies. Pulling over the bag the roset pulls out the note inside. Written with such illegible script that she'd become used to over time. Another note on the properties of this batch of medicines, Bryant was quite the experimenter. He liked to try different things to see how they would turn out.

On the flipside of the note was a list of plant trimmings, roots, and other such things he wanted in exchange for the delivery. Humming at that Arlette heads about her store to gather it all up and return it to the counter.

"Are they worse because that time is quickly approaching once more?" Marnie's voice carries over to her.

"Perhaps so, they seem to come more often when Trade Day is closer" She says, for this reason she has partly always associated the day with fear and frankly avoided attending the festivities when she was younger. Though she couldn't anymore now that she was such a big contributor to the trade. The day came thrice a year, where people on either side of the barrier would exchange goods from their respective sides. The glass made from the Land of Machines was beautiful, and the food produced from the Land of Green was unparalleled.

"I do hope we don't lose anymore this year, old Cera still mourns for her child. How long has it been since he came back to the barrier?" The blonde presses on. Living beings could not cross over, if anyone from the Green so much as stuck a finger through they could not pull it back. Either cut it off or step over to the other side. The same could not be said for the people of Machine, they could not pass through no matter how hard they might try.

Three years ago a young boy had tripped in his excitement, Arlette had been in attendance that day, to help provide the flowers and fruits they'd hand over to those living near their town. The boy had fallen head first, up to his mid back through the barrier. The cry of anguish from the mother, Cera had shattered the festive airs. It had been too long since Treffin had lost someone through the barrier, their guard had been lowered to the risks.

While there are three Trade days within a year, the child stopped coming after the fourth. No one knew if he had died, or simply chosen to forget about his life on this side despite his young age. It had been three Trade days since, the one upcoming to make it four.

"Let us not talk of such morse things Marnie, wont you tell me how your marigolds are growing?" Arlette calls back, a rather blatant way to change a topic but nonetheless Marnie goes along with it. Her voice seeming to follow the roset wherever she was in her store as she gathers the needed supplies.

Returning to her counter she carefully wraps the ones that require it, and adds wet tissue to the trimmings to make them last longer. Putting it all into a paper bag with small drawings of leaves she added during her spare time she hands them over to the blonde with a sweet smile. "As always thank you for delivering these for me" She says, Marnie's chest puffing out as she nods her head with a smile of her own.

"No trouble at all dear, get some rest when you're able alright? Your parlour is quite pale this morning." Marnie says, her tone quite motherly. Marnie and Bryant were the closest thing Arlette had to parents anymore. Her own had died when she was no older than five. She didn't remember them clearly, though according to those in town she resembled her mother the most. Try as she might Arlette could only really recall small things here and there, being told bedtime stories as she went to bed. Or the feeling of tender hands petting her hair.

Nodding at those words Arlette waves to the woman as she leaves and leans once more on her counter. Even though she'd changed the topic, Trade Day still lingered in her mind. Indeed that day would always approach much too quickly for Arlette. To see the people who came to trade with them once more always pulled her heart in two. She knew of course, that the once dressed so nicely with their protective masks had to be higher class. She'd seen children before, even adults who fought over the oldest looking masks, whose clothes were so tattered it was a wonder they held on at all.

Arlette always prepared two batches of offerings due to this, one she would take to the festival. The other she would offer near the barrier just beyond the forest by her house. To the poor children who would cry to her, their scarred, tiny hands pressing on the invisible barrier as she walked close. If she closed her eyes she knew she'd see their faces.

Arlette thinks she might be the only reason they were alive at all. Sighing, the redhead pulls away from her counter. Enough reminiscing in her thoughts, she ought to head into town today. She needed more groceries to line her kitchen shelves once more.