Jayne, half-asleep, woke from the blackness to the twisted chirping of birds. For a moment, strange thoughts swirled in her mind—thoughts she'd later dismiss as silly. Then the malformed bird songs returned, louder now, scattering her fleeting thoughts. She opened her eyes. The itch of straw scratched at her scalp. The bird stood on the balcony rail, watching her—misshapen, gray, speckled with white. Its oversized beak gleamed pale and heavy, its wings uneven like torn cloth. Her mother had once told her of the birds before the Malformation—beautiful things, bright and soft. Jayne had seen them once or twice as a child, before they vanished. The memories had thinned, like mist.
Her mother called from below. Jayne untangled the bedcovers wrapped around her legs, stood, and the bird flew off the balcony. The wooden floor creaked as loudly as her bed had. She stepped onto the balcony, inhaling sea-salted morning air, as she watched the bird shrink into the sky, and wondered: If I had wings, where would I go? Perhaps she'd spend her days waking people with her voice and flying off before they could scold her, like the malformed birds. And she knew, better than anyone, that her voice could wake a whole village.
She looked over the village below. Sat upon a modest hill facing the sea. A winding street led down to the beach to her left, the sea rolled under the cliffs. To the right, houses clustered in rows. The main street cut through the village and passed just beneath her balcony. Men were already heading out to sea, nets slung over shoulders. Mothers laid laundry out beneath the sun. Children—none older than ten—prepared for their own mysterious game. There was Taedy, the four-fingered one, always the leader. Then Billy, whose right eye too large under a too-small skull, and his younger brother, Reggie, of the two heads. All bore white patches, scattered intensively in special spots.
Jayne was the last child born 'normal.' Every child born after her had been… special. The village, once paralyzed by fear, had grown accustomed to it. Over time, they saw the truth: it was only appearances that had changed. The children were still just that—children.
She stepped away from the view and moved toward the water barrel inside. Her reflection wavered there, her red hair tousled and speckled with straw. She picked some out of her curls and muttered, "Need to sew that damn pillow before I end up with hay instead of hair."
After changing clothes, she headed downstairs. The home was small, the walls old, but every board was familiar. Her mother sat on the floor, atop a bundle of straw, knitting something shapeless in soft green wool. One hand moved steadily while the other rested gently over her swollen belly.
"Good morning." Jayne said as she reached for a sandwich from the wooden table.
"Morning, Jayne. Sleep well?" Her mother's eyes didn't leave the yarn.
"Mm… kinda. I was still half-asleep until those ridiculous birds started shrieking. Their squawking makes my stomach turn." She bit into the sandwich, then frowned. "Coconut cheese. Ugh." She put it back.
"They used to sound beautiful, you know. Before the Malformation. I still remember their song. Maybe it's still beautiful now, just in a different way."
Jayne rolled her eyes. "Maybe. I still don't hear it. Speaking of the Malformation… do you think my new brother or sister will be…?" She trailed off when her mother's eyes narrowed slightly. But before either of them could continue, a voice called from outside the window.
"Morning, Tiana! Morning, Jayne!"
Jayne nodded as her mother turned to face the visitor—Kaya, leaning on the window sill, her voice as cheerful forced as always.
"Morning, Kaya. How are Billy and Reggie?" Tiana asked.
"They're fine. Playing with Taedy as usual. The new generation's full of energy, don't you think?" She smiled at Jayne, but Jayne caught a flicker of something sad in her eyes.
"They're full of energy when they're not sneaking around after dark," Tiana said, casting a pointed look at her daughter.
Jayne winced. "I was… helping a cat. Stuck in a tree. Again…"
Kaya laughed. "Jayne loves the shore at night. I've seen her walking along the beach from my window, carrying a stick. Maybe she's a philosopher in the making."
"A philosopher! Great. Will philosophy wash clothes or cook meals? Will it keep a home or a husband happy?" Tiana frowned at Jayne. "How's it going to help you marry Freddy?"
Jayne groaned. "I don't like philosophy. And I don't want to get married. Not now."
"You'll be seventeen soon. Freddy's only a year younger. He's a good match. There's no one else your age in the village."
"I don't care. I'll stay single forever. Oh! Maybe I can help matchmake Freddy instead. What about Freddy and Taedy? Such a special couple!"
Silence fell like a blade. Jayne realized, too late, what she'd said. Kaya looked away. Tiana stared. Jayne's face flushed crimson. Then, quietly, her mother said, "Jayne Colin. Don't think you're so exceptional. And don't speak that way. Maybe you and Freddy don't suit because he doesn't deserve someone that rude."
Jayne left without another word. As she passed Kaya, still standing in her place, she couldn't bring herself to meet her eyes.
"Well done, Frog-Tongue." she muttered to herself as she wandered through the village. She greeted those she passed, but most were too busy to respond. At the square, where the huge cooking pot lay, she turned left toward the south path leading down to the shore. The wind thickened with salt. Fishermen stood on long wooden piers. Jayne scanned the lines until she spotted a lone figure seated far to the left.
She approached. "Morning, Sir Reynald." He didn't turn—his rod tugged hard, and he was too focused. Jayne sat beside him in silence.
He reeled in a white-speckled fish, writhing fiercely with its malformed tail. With practiced ease, he removed the hook, tossed the fish into a basket, and reached for more bait.
Jayne looked at the basket but then turned her gaze back to the water.
"Why the long face?" he said.
"I said some things I didn't mean. Made my mother mad."
"Ah. I figured." He adjusted his straw hat. "What did you say?"
"They brought up Freddy again. So I said maybe he and Taedy would make a better couple—but I didn't mean it like that! Taedy loves fish, and Freddy's mouth looks like a freshly hooked fis—… Blegh, I'd better shut up."
He chuckled. "That's rough." He cast his line again. "Don't judge the water by its surface, Jayne. And once more—think before you speak."
"I know." Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Sometimes I feel like I am a curse that fell on the village. Why am I the last normal child?"
"The only curse you carry, daughter of Colin, is that tongue of yours."
Jayne glanced at him in annoyance. He laughed. "I jest. Still, we live with what we're given. That's life. You will apologize—to your mother. And to Kaya. And Freddy too. Tonight. Over dinner."
Jayne fell silent. Reynald caught another fish and dropped it in the basket. She leaned over to count—six, so far.
"You didn't bring your rod today," he said. "Here, take mine." He handed it to her.
She stood and raised it to cast, all confidence—until he raised a brow."Jayne—the bait."
She blinked, realizing she hadn't put any bait on yet. She felt like an idiot.
The morning passed fishing alongside Sir Reynald, and by afternoon, half the morning's fishermen were still there. Jayne had caught twenty fish, Sir Reynald thirty—but the basket held fewer. Some fish, more malformed than others, had been returned to the sea. Afterward, Jayne carried the fish basket while Sir Reynald attached the chair and rod to his back, supporting himself with his canes as they walked slowly. They walked a little west and then took the main road north toward the village gate, where Sir Reynald lived in a small cottage just beyond the inner village wall. Many villagers were taking a midday break at their homes, in front of their houses, or at the main square, making the atmosphere more lively than the morning. Jayne greeted several people along the way with Sir Reynald until they were stopped by a voice she recognized: "Hey, Jayne! Wait up!" Jayne turned to find Freddy hurrying toward her. Freddy was a tall young man for his age, with brown hair and eyes, and a large, malformed mouth—pale white, with a few small spots scattered across. As he approached, Jayne asked, "Hi Freddy, how's your day so far?"
"Good! Some crops are ripening, and we'll start harvesting soon. Umm, how about you? What did you do this morning?" Freddy replied.
Jayne extended the basket and nodded at him, saying, "I went fishing with Sir Reynald, as you can see. We caught a lot—there's enough for a feast tonight!"
Freddy noticed the basket, paused for a moment, and then said as though an idea had just occurred to him: "Oh! Do you want help carrying the basket? It looks heavy and... I think it's my duty, and..."
Jayne waited for him to finish, but he stopped and looked down, stumbling over his words, his face turning as red as a tomato. Despite Freddy's large mouth, Jayne thought, he wasn't very articulate—at least not when the topic wasn't crops or farming. The thought made her smile, and Freddy noticed. She then said, "It's fine, Freddy. It's light enough for me to carry," and added, "We should go now. I'll see you later tonight, I think!" He nodded, and they both parted ways.
Jayne and Sir Reynald arrived at his modest cottage. She placed the fish basket in front of the cottage and felt a sharp pain in her shoulders and hands.
I should have let Freddy carry it for me, she thought, stretching her back.
She looked at Sir Reynald, who had leaned his canes against the wall. And sat down on a chair by the door, holding his fishing rod. Jayne took it from him and went inside the cottage to put it away.
She went back outside, carrying a wooden sword, grinning. "Sir Jayne, ready for combat, Sir Reynald!" She announced loudly, pointing the tip of the sword at him.
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and said, "Sir is not used for women, my honorable Sir Jayne. Perhaps Lady would fit more." Jayne shook her head. "But Sir sounds better! I like Sir Jayne more than Lady Jayne, even if it doesn't make sense."
She then took a fighting stance in front of a scarecrow dummy placed near the cottage and began her training. Sir Reynald guided her, giving instructions. Jayne was in her best mood at this time; she didn't like washing clothes, cooking, or even philosophizing. She had always wanted to be a knight like Sir Reynald ever since she was little. She longed to leave the village and see what lay beyond. That was her little secret, known only to her, Sir Reynald, and his wife Lady Raya.
She remembered how Sir Reynald would tell her his early life—about fighting in a huge army, the tourney where he won Lady Raya's heart, and the countless times they had nearly faced death but somehow survived their travels. Eventually, they ended up in the village of Coastenveil after his retirement. Jayne always listened with rapt attention, her eyes sparkling with excitement during the most thrilling parts of his tales.
He would have been training her now—if he still had both legs. The thought made her heart ache.
After two or three hours, Lady Raya arrived, carrying a basket filled with herbs. She greeted Jayne and Sir Reynald and went into the cottage for a while. When she came back out, she watched Jayne for a moment before joking, "Here is Jayne Colin charging at the enemy, delivering a strong blow to the face. Now she dodges to the right! And... trips, then falls."
Sir Reynald laughed, "And here, Sir Jayne loses to Sir Straw!" But Jayne didn't get up. She was too tired, and her right knee throbbed with sharp pain. Lady Raya hurried to her side and found a small wound bleeding, which should be easy to treat. She helped Jayne inside.
Jayne sat on a straw-filled pallet laid out on the floor while Lady Raya boiled water with herbs and prepared a clean white cloth. She dipped the cloth in the pot, wrung it out well, and cleaned Jayne's wound. Then, she bandaged it and said, "You get hurt every day, Jayne. You need to take better care of yourself."
At that moment, Sir Reynald entered with his canes and sat down on a chair. "Enough for today, then." he told Jayne. She didn't reply, just closed her eyes for a moment, breathing heavily from exhaustion.
Lady Raya then said, with her warm, soothing voice, "I know you love sword fighting, but don't push yourself too hard. You may end up getting married, and that hobby will fade. And remember, the battlefield isn't a game, as Sir Reynald told you. It's true hell, not as exciting as you might imagine. Wounding and killing people—it's really awful."
"I don't want to fight in wars, Lady Raya. Just defending myself... That might be my pass to leave here."
"You really long to leave, don't you?" she said sadly.
"It's not that I hate this place. I really love it. It's just... I feel like there's so much more outside, things I can't even imagine! Things far more wonderful than fishing every day and arguing about my marriage to Freddy! I want to see all of that."
Lady Raya glanced at Sir Reynald behind her, who shrugged as if he didn't know what to say. She then said, "Listen, the world outside has changed a lot since we came here. Not even far from here; even the forest seems much more dangerous now. I went today to treat Jaffer and Greg. They went hunting this morning, but returned covered in wounds from the malformed wolves. Not to mention the deformities in the forest itself and the rest of the animals. The world is becoming truly strange, but for your generation and the ones to come... this might be the world you'll know, and you won't know any different."
Jayne, half asleep, mumbled, "The world of the malformed, Lady of the malformed, Sir Jayne Colin. Sir Jayne, the unspecia—" Then she drifted off to sleep.
She woke up about two hours later. The room was darker, with an orange hue. Lady Raya was sitting nearby, preparing something in a pot. Jayne suddenly sat up, not expecting to fall asleep like that, and immediately felt a hunger pang in her stomach. Lady Raya turned to her and said, "Dinner's almost ready. I'm sure you're hungry now. Sir Reynald told me you only had a sandwich this morning while fishing."
"Has he gone to the square yet?"
"Yes, he took the fish and went. Dinner's almost done. Come, we must go!"
Jayne stood up quickly, washed from the barrel of water, and followed Lady Raya, who was carrying the pot toward the village square. The sun was preparing to set, and the malformed birds were heading to their nests. The village's shadows stretched to the left like black ghosts. In the distance, she could see a large crowd in the square, shimmering in the orange light of the setting sun. The air was filled with the smell of food, a warm and comforting scent that always made her feel safe. As they approached, the bustle grew louder, with people moving in all directions. Some went to fetch hot loaves of bread, others to gather the village's drinks, while others stirred a large fish stew in the center of the square, mixing it with a massive spoon in the great village pot. Lady Raya went in that direction to deliver the pot she had prepared at home, while Jayne looked for her mother among the seated villagers to the left. She found her sitting with Kaya, talking and laughing, while Reggie and Billy played in front of them. She greeted them and sat down on the ground, then remembered Sir Reynald's conversation and apologized for what had happened in the morning. Kaya stopped, half-closing her eyes as if remembering something from ten years ago. Finally, she laughed and said, "Oh, don't worry, Jayne, I really forgot about that!" But then she leaned in and mischievously said, "But since you brought it up and you really seem sorry, prove it by inviting Freddy to dance tonight." She pointed at Freddy, who was busy preparing bread with the others.
"Oh, wait, you're not serious!" Jayne said, staring at Kaya, who still had a mischievous look on her face. Jayne couldn't escape and eventually gave in, saying, "Alright, alright! One dance won't hurt anyone, and it certainly won't prove my marriage to Freddy in front of everyone."
Kaya winked at Tiana beside her, and they resumed their conversation. Jayne relaxed in her position, gazing up at the stars, always mesmerized by their beauty. She nearly closed her eyes when she felt someone touch her hand. Looking forward, she saw Reggie standing there, asking, "Jayne, did you really go to the forest?"
"Oh, before?" she replied. "Yes, many times. I used to watch Sir Reynald hunting rabbits."
"You only watched?" Reggie asked, his tone tinged with disappointment. "You didn't hunt yourself?"
"I told you, Reggie!" came Billy's voice as he stepped closer. "Jayne was little. Maybe... let me see, she was about this big!" He held up his fingers, showing five.
Reggie's eyes widened. "That's my age!"
Jayne felt her pride crumble bit by bit. She straightened her back and said, "At first, I only watched Sir Reynald. But do you know what happened? A huge wolf appeared. Its eyes were bigger than B— I mean, truly massive! And they shone redder than the fire we light every night." She glanced over their shoulders and spotted Greg, sitting and having his meal. "You know why Greg's called Greg the Slow? Because the wolf chased him, and it almost tore his throat out. Then I came charging with a sword and thrust it into his heart! The wolf's heart, that is. It kept howling until it died. Greg thanked me and called me a little heroine, just five years old!" She finished her tale with her head held high. Reggie's mouth hung open, and drool dripped from the corner of his lips, down to his second head, while Billy's right eye widened even further.
Jayne looked over at her mother and Kaya, who were still talking, oblivious to her little story. Then Billy broke the silence, his voice laced with doubt, "Really...? Where was Sir Reynald then?""Didn't I tell you? He was hunting rabbits!"
Sorry, Sir Reynald.
At last, the evening meal began. It was a hearty fish stew with berries, herbs, and fresh bread. The fish had been cut into roughly cubed pieces, and some areas were clearly missing chunks, where malformations had been removed. The berries, too, bore signs of the same things, but despite this, the taste was still good. They had long known that these didn't affect the flavor much—indeed, they had no taste at all—and most importantly, they weren't poisonous. And thanks to Lady Raya's herbs, they could still bring some flavor back to it.
When the meal ended and the berry drink was gone, the sun had finally set, and the moon rose above them. There was still an hour before bedtime, so they lit a fire in the square, casting a warm glow as they gathered around it. Most sat on the ground, though a few were perched on chairs. Sir Reynald and Lady Raya sat at the north end of the circle, on two simple chairs, looking like a king and queen despite their plain clothing, Jayne thought, as she imagined royalty from the tales of Sir Reynald.
They began singing, songs of the village: about King Rizan of the Sea who calmed the storm so his ship could pass, and of Miren Orchard, the fish who turned into a human but still could not breathe on land, among others. Some rose to dance, while others clapped and sang, and the children played around the fire. Jayne felt the weight of an approaching hour and her stomach turn.
"I can do this!" she told herself. "One dance won't decide my marriage!" She glanced at Kaya and her mother, both clapping along, and met Kaya's gaze. Quickly, she turned away and then slowly looked at Freddy, who was no longer sitting in his spot. Where had he gone? He had been there just a moment ago!
Suddenly, she felt a hand touch her shoulder and looked to find Freddy standing beside her."Uh... Jayne, hey! I was wondering… I mean, do you want to dance, maybe?"His hands were clasped in front of him, He does that when he feels nervous, which means all the time. She looked past him and saw his mother watching them from her seat, speaking with someone next to her. Jayne understood what was happening.
One dance won't decide my marriage! she repeated in her mind. She stood up, took his hand, and led him toward the center, near the fire where others were dancing, as if dragging a child behind her. When they reached the spot where they were to dance, she realized suddenly that she had no idea how to dance. She turned to Freddy, flustered, and to her surprise, he took her other hand and pulled her closer, guiding her in a simple step. He moved forward and back in rhythm, and Jayne, still unsure, tried to mimic him. But she was too slow, her movements not matching his, until Freddy caught her hands again and they spun together twice. Then he let go of her right hand, turned them both so they faced forward, and moved his feet in the same pattern again. Jayne stood there, dumbfounded, watching him as he moved with ease. She tried to copy his steps but was a moment too late. Freddy took her hands once more, and they spun again, and this time, Jayne found herself moving more in sync with him.
The world seemed to spin around them, and she felt as though every eye was upon them. She hadn't known Freddy could dance so well, certainly he practiced so much for this. She had always thought of him as the simple boy who knew when the crops grew and when to harvest them. They twirled, again and again, their feet moving together, and Jayne lost track of time—whether it was minutes, hours, or years—it no longer mattered. They spun through the dance, their movements blending with the others around them.
Eventually, the singing stopped, and Freddy halted, though Jayne continued for a few moments before noticing. She looked at him, realizing the singing had stopped, and stopped herself as well. Just then, another song began to float through the air.
"W... wish dance to this one too, maybe?"His face was flushed, red like a tomato, except the spots of white on his mouth, now turned orange by the firelight.
One more dance won't decide my marriage! she reminded herself, and with that, she danced with Freddy again. And again. And again, to songs she couldn't remember, each time learning the steps, the rhythm, and finding herself moving more fluidly with him. Thoughts came and went, ideas fleeting like the wind. She danced through the night, forgetting everything but the music, the dance, and Freddy.
In the end, she leaned closer to his ear and whispered. "I'm sorry."