A Witch's Tail

Ellie woke that morning to the sound of a bird calling directly above her. She stared at the ring of early morning sky for awhile, disoriented. Then yesterday’s events began to replay and slowly sank back into her, and her stomach felt heavier as she recalled that she was still a ways from home.

She turned her head and glanced over to her right to spot her new companion, Chevias. He was still asleep, his back to her and his tail lying twisted in the dirt like a huge snake. The tail twitched occasionally and Ellie was once again amazed and slightly alarmed at how bizarrely quite Chevias was. Thanks to her father and older brothers, she had been under the impression that all men’s snoring sounded like wild animal growls or saws going thorough wood. But Chevias’ snore was so quiet and soft that it was almost indistinguishable from the rustling of the leaves in the trees above her. She was half convinced he wasn’t actually sleeping, but his lack of response when she softly called his name proved he was.

Ellie got the distinct feeling that walking over to him and shaking him awake would result in her being smacked across the clearing , so instead she sat up and tossed a rock near him. It clacked loudly on another rock near his head, and the witch bolted upright with a startled and sleepy mumble. He came to his senses with amazing speed, considering Ellie had spent about five minutes groggily staring at the sky, and looked over at her.

“Oh right…morning.”

“Good morning….”

Chevias yawned loudly and started stretching, reminding Ellie of the old cats in Flatrend. Ellie tried to get up and was met with a sharp pain in her back and aches in her legs. Chevias noticed her rubbing at her back, “Stiff back? Sleeping on the ground’ll do that. Try twisting and popping it, like this.” He demonstrated and Ellie copied him, flinching in horror as her back made a series of loud popping sounds. However, it did help the pain, and Ellie was able to stand up and look around.

The fire pit in the middle was now just ashes, the smell of smoke still hanging in the air. She looked down at herself and found that the bright yellow of her dress was getting dull with dirt. ‘Just as well,’ she supposed, ‘it was annoyingly bright anyway.’

Chevias was nice enough to let Ellie have some of the water from his waterskin, though it was made of some hard metal and he called it a canteen. She shared some of her bread and cheese the old woman had given her for breakfast, and the two made their way back to the main road to continue their trip.

This walk was much like the yesterdays, though there was less terrified silence on Ellie’s part. They talked for most of the way, but this time Ellie found that Chevias was less willing to talk about himself, to her annoyance and frustration. Ellie was extremely curious about witches, but whenever Ellie asked him a question about him or witches, he would either flip it around to ask about her or smoothly change the subject.

“So, what’s your family like?”

“Oh, what you’d expect. What about yours?”

The chat had been going on in this fashion for a while and at this point, Ellie was quite annoyed with his suddenly suspicious behavior. She put her hands on her hips and huffed, “Alright, why are you acting strange? You were so chatty yesterday, and now you’re dodging my questions!”

He looked a little caught off guard by Ellie’s directness, “What? I’m not dodging.”

“Yes you are!”

He sighed and paused for a moment, thinking about something, before replying. “Ok, look Ellie. The fact of the matter is, part of my job includes keeping my mouth closed about it. Apparently, the higher ups aren’t comfortable with people knowing a lot about witches, so they tell us that the most important part is to keep quiet and not cause any scenes. An annoyingly big part of our training is keeping up conversations while being what they call ‘diplomatic’.” He put that last word in air quotes.

“What they really mean is that they don’t want non-witches in witch business, so they train us to shut our yaps about it.”

Ellie was incredulous about this, “But what about that big story yesterday?”

“I’m allowed to tell people what I’m doing, not why I’m doing it. Plus, you were jumping at shadows yesterday. Let’s just say there’s a big, long list of subjects that are a no-no, ok?”

“Talking about your family is a no-no?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, but stayed silent.

“Right, no-no. Well then, can you just tell me if you’re not allowed to talk about a subject instead of jumping over it? This is all sounding really suspicious.”  

He sighed again, sounding exasperated, “Yeah, I know it does. I’ve told my boss a big part of why people don’t like witches is how shady we’re told to act. But she just-” he cut himself off.

“…No-no?”

“Yup, yeah, that was a no-no. Say, why don’t you tell me about your family now, before I start running my mouth again?”

So Ellie talked about her family for a long while. She talked about Wormwood farm’s history, about the dragon scale roof, and about town. She found that talking about her life was a far more productive course of conversation than Chevias’. It seemed every time she ventured to ask about his personal life, he had to shut her down for it being against the rules.

Ellie couldn’t fathom why his ‘higher ups’ were against him talking about his parents or school, or even about where he lives on the occasions he’s not traveling. She didn’t know how they would know if he did talk about them, but when she voiced this question, he just shook his head again. It was quite frustrating, so instead of trying to pry information out of him, she buried her curiosity and tried to focus on chatting about the other kids in town and how big a deal the adult made of the school teacher’s alleged affair with the butcher.

“I’m actually not really sure what an ‘affair’ is, but it must be something really terrible for the adults to almost kick them out of town over it. Do know what it is Chevias?”

He had seemed to be amused by the small town gossip, but Ellie was surprised by how loud he laughed at that question. His laugh was sharp and barking, and surprisingly shrill compared to his normal voice. He quickly reigned himself in and chuckled, “That’s something for your parents to tell you, not me. So, did they get kicked out?”  

               As a matter a fact, they hadn’t. Ellie hadn’t been there to hear it, but apparently there had been a big commotion in the square one afternoon while she was helping her brothers fix the henhouse roof. After that incident, the townspeople stopped pestering the teacher as much and instead focused on the teenage son of a merchant who lived in town. She relayed this to Chevias.

               “Why’d they do that?”

               Ellie shrugged, “I kept hearing different stories. Harriet Row told me that he made a mess of the statue in the middle of town, but Eddy Warthren said he’d harassed a lady and had a fight with her husband. Then Sarah Trout said he’d set off some kind of explosion, Trevor Grove said he won a duel to the death in the square, and Patrick Morton said that he’d let a bunch of wild cat’s loose on a fish merchant! By the time I heard about it, there were a thousand different stories!”

               “You couldn’t just ask someone who was there?”

               Ellie threw up her hands, “You think I didn’t try that? Every time I asked someone who supposedly saw it, they’d just brush me off and say ‘never mind all that’!”  

               Ellie was surprised she could talk about her town so much. She had always been under the impression that Flatrend was a boring place where not much of note happened. But every time she thought she’d exhausted a thread of conversation, she remembered another funny or odd thing that happened. She had also been worried that Chevias would quickly get bored of the silly nonsense and stop paying attention to it, but she found that either he was genuinely interested in the goings on of a small town, or he was just an excellent listener. Anyone else she knew would’ve tuned out long ago.  

               As she recounted the tale of when a horde of the town’s troublemaking kids had plucked a bunch her family’s chickens so they could tar and feather the statue in town square, Chevias stopped walking abruptly and interrupted.

               “Hey, we’re almost there.”

               She stopped next to him, “Almost where? I don’t see the town.”

               Indeed, it had been several hours, but they were still far from town. Chevias pointed over to the right side of the road, “This is the turn off for where I’m going. It’s a bit of a detour, but there’s a way to get to Tyman from there to.” He paused a bit, “This way might even be safer than the main road.”

               He started heading for the edge of the forest before looking back at her, “Last chance to change your mind. Are you coming or not?”

               “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

               Ellie dashed after him and followed him off the road. Unlike the path to the clearing, which had been completely hidden aside from the scratches of Witch-Speak on the trees, this path was marked by nothing more than a thin deer trail. Ellie had a bit of trouble pushing through the thick brush, but Chevias seemed to know the path down to each step to take.

               “So where are we going?”

               “To a small, unnamed lake. It shouldn’t be far. I was told it was about a ten minute walk from the road.”

               “You were told? You mean you’ve never been there before?!”

“No, not to this place specifically. Don’t worry, I know where I’m going. I don’t get lost.”

His confidence made Ellie want to believe him, but she wasn’t entirely certain anyone could keep they’re bearings in the forest like this. If it wasn’t for the barely-there deer trail, she wouldn’t have known if they were going straight or in circles.

After a few minutes of walking deeper into the forest, doubt started to creep up from the recesses of her mind. The darkness of the foliage and the stiff air were causing her mind to swing back to the anxiety that had been waiting to resurface. ‘Idiot,’ a voice told her, ‘you’re an idiot! You should’ve waved goodbye to him back on the road and made your merry way to Tyman. But nooo, you decided to put your faith in a witch! You let one of the most notoriously untrustworthy creatures in all of creation lead you off the road and to Thia knows where!’

‘Chevias has been nothing but nice and helpful,’ Ellie argued with the voice. ‘Yes he’s a little suspicious, but if he’s not allowed to talk about things, then I should respect that. Besides, he didn’t force me to follow him! I had every opportunity to go on without him!’

‘Then why didn’t you?!’

Ellie wrestled with her doubt for a long time, not even noticing that she was making a very troubled face that Chevias could clearly see. He didn’t try to snap her out of it though. If anything, he found the fact that everything she thought showed on her face rather funny.

So he didn’t bother her fight with her inner turmoil until they finally reached the lake. He had to reach out and grab her shoulder to keep her from walking right into it.

“Ah!” The feeling of his hand brought her back to reality quickly.

“Watch out. It’s a steep drop down.”

So it was. Ellie looked around at the strange lake. If you could call it a lake, that is. It was almost perfectly round, and about ten feet in diameter. The water in it was a murky green from algae and lily pads, and the bottom of it was completely obscured so you couldn’t tell how deep it was. It had less of a bank than a steep drop into the dark water. It had no sign of a creek or stream running through it. It looked more like a man-made pond than something you’d find in the middle of a forest. “Chevias, you said we were going to a lake. This doesn’t look like a lake.”

He scratched his head, a little puzzled, “Yeah, it does. Errol told me it was a lake, so I thought it’d be bigger.” He started digging through his bag and mumbled, “Though I suppose it is a lake for someone his size.”

“What?”

“Anyways, this is defiantly it. Look here.” He walked over to and crouched beside a rock that was sitting besides the pond. Ellie joined him to see that the rock had some now familiar looking scratches. Below the scratches and taking up the majority of the rock was peculiar handprint with only four digits; the thumb and three fingers.

“What’s this?”

“The entrance.”

Chevias finally pulled what he’d been looking for out of his bag. It was a slim book with a silvery, metallic-looking cover. Ellie looked at it with wide eyes. “What’s that?”

He smiled, “This is a grimoire. Can’t tell you more than that though. Sorry.”

Ellie pouted as he opened the book to reveal…blank pages. The pages of the book were a little odd, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was about them that was strange. She raised her brow, “It’s blank.”

“Yup.”

Chevias ran his finger down the center of the book and, to Ellie’s shock and amazement, the book lit up with bright green lettering. She gasped as the green light crisscrossed into Witch-Speak across the pages. Then, as she watched, Chevias gave the book a command. He only said one word, and she would bet it was in Witch-Speak because she’d never heard anything like it.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t tell.”

She huffed, “So you can do whatever this is right in front of my face, but you can’t tell me what it is?”

“Yeah, that’s how it works.”

“That’s stupid. These are stupid rules.”

“They are, but I still have to follow them. Now pipe down.”

She didn’t know what it was he told the book to do, but the characters on the book pages flashed and changed, settling into a single line of letters. Chevias tapped those letters with his finger and then the pages once again filled up with Witch-Speak. Chevias gave another command and the letters flashed and changed once more. This time he took the time to read what was on the page instead of poking at it.

“Ok…ok, simple enough. Easy.”

He reached over to the stone and placed his hand over the print, pressing his pinky and ring finger together so they’d fit into the groove made for one. After settling it into the indent, he glanced back over at Ellie, “Stand back, ok?”

She obeyed and hopped away from him as he looked back at the book and read aloud from it. He rattled off a string of Witch-Speak that sent a chill up Ellie’s spine. From the snippets he’d said, she could gather that Witch-Speak was a language mostly comprised of hard constantan sounds and lots of ‘sh’ noises. It wasn’t a pretty sounding language, like Runic or Hedeshoi. It was slithering and clicking, harsh and sharp, like the lettering that matched it.

As the last syllable left Chevias’ tongue, the scratching above the hand print started to glow the same green as the grimoire, and the ground trembled a bit as the sound of rushing water filled Ellie’s ears.  She looked back at the pond to see that the murky water was draining from the pond at a startling rate, disappearing within a few minutes.

Ellie peered into the now empty hole in the ground, astounded, as Chevias stood up. She saw that the muddy water had been concealing the fact that the pond was quite deep; a little deeper than Chevias was tall. “Well, that’ll do. Come on.”

She gaped at him, “Come? Come where?”

Then he hopped down in the hole and landed without slipping on the slimy pond scum and vegetation that had sunk to the bottom. He turned back to her and held out his arms, “Come on down, I’ll catch you.”

The look on her face told him what she thought of that.

“Don’t worry, I won’t drop you. Unless you’d rather try to come down yourself.”

Ellie was always a little frightened by heights, as her father can attest from when he tried to put her on his shoulders. Although the drop wasn’t terribly high, it was still a little under six feet. Ellie was a rather small for her age, and she only came up to about the bottom of Chevias’ ribcage. She looked for another option but found that the walls of the pond were made of a smooth stone; it was defiantly manmade. With no way to climb down, she sighed and steeled herself.

She dropped off the edge and quickly landed in Chevias’ arms, who barely dipped down under her weight. She didn’t know if she should be surprised by how strong his arms felt considering how skinny he was, or not at all considering she watched him drag a bear off the road.

Either way, he set her down on her feet quickly. “Alright, start kinda shifting all the debris around. There should be a hatch door on the floor.”

It wasn’t one minute before Ellie tripped over it. She would’ve landed with her face in the algae if Chevias hadn’t lashed his tail out and caught her by the waist with it. His tail was as thin and flexible as a length of rope and just as solid and steady under her weight as his arms. She was genuinely creeped out by it, only able to remember a picture of a snake squeezing the life out of its prey she’d once seen in a book, but sputtered a thank you as he uncoiled it from her and walked closer to see the door.  

He crouched down and wiped the debris off it, revealing a metal door with no visible handle, knob, or hinges. Instead, there was only another one of those strange handprints on the center of it within a circle of Witch-Speak. Chevias opened like he drained the pond; he put his hand on it and read a line from the grimoire. This time, it wasn’t as responsive. The letters flickered a bit, as though trying to obey him, but having trouble doing so.

               “Come on you piece of….” He muttered and banged on the hatch. The lights blinked on and stayed steady as a soft whirring noise sounded, and the door swung up and opened by itself. It revealed a hole going down with ladder rungs protruding from one side. Ellie peered down and could see that there was a landing not too far down that lead to a narrow corridor that sloped down into darkness.

               “What in Thia’s name IS all this?”

               Chevias was already starting to climb down the ladder rungs, “It’s an old bunker. Two-hundred years or so ago we built hidden bunkers like this to house soldiers for the war. They’re scattered around, but most of them have been forgotten. Records of this one were only recently dug up.”  

               Ellie started down the ladder after him, “I’ve never heard of anything like this!”

               “I’d be surprised if you did. I didn’t think there was any this far west, but I guess they managed to scrap this one together right before the tables turned.”

               “Wait, is it ok for me to be here?” As she asked this, Ellie reached the bottom of the ladder and stepped onto the landing, squinting into the darkness to see what looked like entryways lining the walls of the hallway.

               Chevias nodded, “Yeah, it should be fine. It’s not like it’s a secret that places like this exist. There’s one over in Ovanhagen that’s been converted into a kind of museum.”

               Chevias reached over to the wall beside him and firmly placed his hand on some kind of panel, and then the dark gloom of the bunker was alleviated by a red glow from the rooms lining the halls that spilled through the doorways. The whirring noise sounded again and Ellie looked back up to see that the trapdoor was closing on its own. As it shut, there was a faint but strange sound that a little like wheezing that was followed by the muffled sound of running water. Now that the door was closed, the pond was refilling.

               Chevias started walking down the path and Ellie hesitated a moment before following him. The corridor was just wide enough for two adults to walk abreast, and was oddly sloping downwards, but the rooms were level, as Ellie saw when she passed the nearest one. The rooms were huge and filled with dusty looking beds. The bedding was mostly tattered cloths and what looked like rolled up clothes for pillows. The red light shone from a huge plate in the ceiling, strangely bright and vivid and cast deep shadows across this gloomy, forgotten place.

               Each door had scratching of Witch-Speak above them that also glowed that menacing red. She wasn’t entirely certain, but Ellie could guess that they denoted what kind of room was below them. As they descended, they passed one set of what she assumed were barracks after another, until finally the hall leveled out. Ellie had no idea how deep underground they were, but the mere thought of it was about to give her a bout of claustrophobia.

               To combat the panic that was welling up in her chest, she started talking again. “Chevias, why are the lights red here?” She had expected her voice to echo, but the echo she got was far louder and creepier than what she expected. Her voice reverberated for a full minute before finally dissipating.

               “Red light is easy on the eyes. If someone stumbled in here at night, they wouldn’t be totally blinded by it.”

               “Oh…well, umm…can you tell me what happened here?”

               Chevias glanced at her before quickly looking away, his face hard as the stone around them. “I know rural towns don’t have the best schools, but I know they teach you that much.”

               Ellie gulped and cowered at his sharp tone, falling a few steps behind him, “Sorry.”

               “Ellie, for future reference, NEVER bring that up around a witch. Some are a lot more sensitive about it than others.”

                 “I’m sorry…I really don’t know exactly what happened though. They’ve taught me about the Great War and before, but they always skip what came after. Whenever I ask about it, the adults tell me that it’s something complicated and that they’ll tell me when I’m older.” She wrung her hands nervously, trying to keep her voice from trembling, “…It must have been something really bad though…I can tell.”

               Chevias sighed, “I guess that makes sense. You’re still a kid after all….” He stopped and turned to her suddenly, startling her. “Listen, when they do teach you about it, they’re probably gonna tell you a lot of…” he trailed off, looking for the right wording. “Well…just keep in mind that every story has two sides, ok?”

               Ellie wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that, but nodded anyway. She guessed it would make sense when she was older. As much as that notion annoyed her, right now she just wanted this uncomfortable conversation to end. Asking about the time after the Great War had clearly been a mistake; the stale air in this bunker was almost suffocating with tension and Ellie was wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.

               Chevias spun around and started down the hall again, “Sorry if I scared you. Come on, we’re almost there.”

               She didn’t bother asking where exactly ‘there’ was, but followed him silently. The idea that maybe she should’ve parted ways with him back on the road flittered through her mind again, and not for the last time.

               It was about another five minutes of awkward and silent walking before they finally reached something other than barracks. The right side of the hallway suddenly gave way to a gigantic room and the left side was adorned with the only actual door they’d seen down here. The door was wooden and had a glass window at the top of it, but it was oddly opaque and dappled looking. Both had more glowing Witch-Speak to their sides, and the giant room was lit by another plate of crimson, this one enormous. It was full of tables and chairs, with what looked like in the gloom long counters towards the back.

               Chevias spoke up, “That must’ve been the cafeteria. And that’s the main office. Come on, we’re going to the-“

               A long, loud grumbling sound interrupted him and Ellie grabbed at her stomach, her face heating up.

               Chevias was clearly trying his best not to laugh in her face, “Pfft…yeah, it is about noon, isn’t it? We can sit down and eat first.”

               He walked over to the table nearest to the entrance and pulled out a chair. He frowned at the tabletop and swept his arm over it, sending a cascade of dust flying to the ground.

               Ellie delicately walked over, looking cautiously around the room. As hungry as she was, the idea of eating in this tomb was intimidating. The idea of the shadows leaping at her didn’t seem so silly here, and she wondered how the soldiers that were once quarted here could stand it. Even so, she forced herself to sit at the still somewhat dusty table across from Chevias and pulled the last of her bread and cheese out of her basket. “The lady only gave me enough for myself, so there’s not much left….”

               “That’s ok. I’ve got…” he rooted around in his bag, “…jerky!” He pulled a small bag filled with sticks of dried meat out. Combining that with the bread and cheese made for a decent meal, and Ellie stuffed down all she could get.

               “Take it easy Ellie. We’ll be in Tyman by tonight and we can get dinner at an inn, ok?”

               She swallowed her last bite of bread, “Speaking of which, what will we do about food for the way to Flatrend?”

               “I’ll spot you a bag in town so you can carry some things-”

               “I-!”

               “Don’t argue. We’ll buy some provisions the morning after we get there. We’ll spend the next night to rest and head out the next morning. If we can get someone to give us a ride, we’ll do that. But we have to be prepared if no one wants to. Then we’ll make our way and I’ll hunt for dinner most nights. Sound like a plan?”

               “It does…I suppose….” Ellie wasn’t too happy about having to spend an extra night in Tyman, but she supposed it was necessary for the long walk ahead of them.

               “…Wait Chevias, you’re going to pay for all this? Do you even have the money?” Ellie recalled his story about being stranded in Weshan because his employers gave him the bare minimum, so how could he have enough to pay for all this?

               At first she expected him to say that he wasn’t allowed to tell her, but he responded with, “You remember that I had a run in with goblins last night? Well,” he pulled a very fat and bloodstained coin purse out of his bag, looking a bit smug. “This should cover it.”

It was the fattest bag of coins she’d ever seen, and she was a bit impressed that a band of goblins managed to get a hold of that much. “Yeah, that should work. But can I ask you something I’ve always wondered? What do goblins need with money anyway? I always hear about how they steal things and raid towns, but I’ve never heard about one actually using the money they steal.”

Chevias shrugged, “I don’t know, I’ve wondered the same thing myself. They’re not smart enough to use it for anything and no one would sell to a goblin even if they tried bartering. Maybe they’re just dumb.”

He laughed and pocketed the purse again, “On the bright side, if I’m ever strapped for cash I can just find some goblins. Even a little group of them is bound to have some money on them, and they’re not hard to find.”

               True enough, but the way she was sure Chevias took the money from them made Ellie pity goblins, even if just a bit. He gave the impression that he didn’t care for goblins enough to give them a chance to run, and she was glad she wasn’t in their position.

               ‘Not that that’s my business. I’ve never actually met any goblins, but I’ve heard they’re nasty creatures. He’s probably doing the kingdom a big favor by getting rid of them.’

               Chevias tucked away the rest of the jerky and stood from his chair, “Alright, let’s get moving. The sooner we’re out of here the better.” Ellie couldn’t have agreed with that statement more and stood up with him. They reentered the hallway and Chevias walked over to the door he had earlier identified as an office. He put his hand on the panel next to the door that was much like the one that turned on the lights.

               The panel flashed red and gave five long, annoying sounding beeps, then did nothing.

               Chevias  growled, “Uggghhh…” Then he grumbled something in Witch-Speak that Ellie was ninety percent certain was a swear.

               “What’s wrong?”

               “It’s only supposed to open for authorized personnel. Stand back, I’m going to bust it open.”

               She jumped a few feet away, “How?”

               He hesitated with his hand on the door, “…Ok, I’m gonna do something, but freak out, ok? It’s totally normal and I’m not going to hurt you.”

               Ellie wasn’t sure what to say to that. She was sure that he was about to open the door the same way he killed the bear, the goblins, and skinned last night’s dinner. Last night she had been scared of him enough to not want to know, but now her curiosity far outweighed that. So she nodded, “Ok, I won’t.”

               “Alright. Just stay back; I don’t want any glass hitting you.”

               Ellie stared at him intently, waiting for him to do something odd. She waited a moment and nothing seemed to happen. He just stood there, his shoulders and tail stiff as he expected  her to start screaming. She flicked her eyes down and up, then down again as she finally saw what had changed.

               What had been Chevias’ oddly pale, but otherwise perfectly normal hands had been replaced. Now they were pitch black, and each finger had been replaced by a long, sharp looking claw. Ellie’s breath hitched and a squeak escaped her throat.

               “It’s ok!” Chevias held up his new hands, “This is just something I can do! Please don’t scream, the echoes in here are bad enough at normal volume!”

               Ellie let out her breath and forced herself to suck in one after another to prevent a scream, “Ok, I’m alright. W-what exactly is that?”

               He waved his hand and Ellie could swear she heard the faintest sound of splitting air as the knife-like claws swept through the air. “They’re my hands.”

               “I can see that, but happened to them?!”

               “It’s just something I can do. It’s as normal for me as being able to walk is to you.”

               “Can…can all witches do that? I’ve never heard that witches could do that.”

               Chevias sighed and put his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes.

               “You can’t tell me? Fine…just-just open the door already. I want to get out of here.”

               “Alright,” he turned around to face the door, “you know, you took that better than a lot of people have. Once time a grown man ran away from me screaming after I saved his life and a kid your age fainted. You’re pretty level headed for your age.”

               “Thank you...?”

               Chevias reared his clawed hands back, “Shade your eyes, you don’t want any splinters flying in them.” Then he started to hack through the thick wooden door, his claws slicing through it like it was made of butter. Ellie had seen her dad chop fire wood before and not even the sharpest, most well made axe money could buy would cut through solid wood as cleanly and easily as those claws. In fact, chopping and cutting weren’t the right words for it; the claws were gliding right through it, so sharp that the wood wasn’t resisting them at all. Ellie could only stare wide eyed and wonder just what all those blades could cut through.

               Chevias finished cutting a large hole out of the middle of the door, and stepped back to look at it, “Yup, that outta do it.”

               Ellie watched as his hands shifted back to their normal, human shape. They shrunk the slightest bit, as though that form had made them swell up a bit, and the claws receded until they were the normal, blunt and human shape and length. Then the blackness that coated his skin like ink pulled back and disappeared beneath the cuff of his shirt. All this happened in just about two seconds; if Ellie had blinked, she’d have missed it. It was also, like the rest of anything Chevias does, an eerily quiet process. Perhaps you would expect such a drastic change to be accompanied by the sound of clicking or crunching bones, or a sandpapery, slithering noise as the inky blackness crawled onto his skin, but it was completely silent. It was no wonder Ellie hadn’t noticed anything at first.

               Chevias went through the hole into the dark office. Ellie waited until another crimson light flickered on, bathing the room in that eerie glow before following him, being careful not to scratch herself on the wood.

               The office was sparse and messy; it looked like it had been ransacked. The desk had been overturned and flung across the room, the book shelves had been cleared of anything that was once on them, and a tall cabinet with four drawers had been yanked out and emptied. Despite the mess, there wasn’t a single scrap of paper strewn about.

               “There’s nothing here.”

               “They must’ve cleaned it out before leaving. Come on, see if you can find a metal plate. It’ll be long and rectangular, with some Witch-Speak on it.”

               It didn’t take long to find. It had been stuffed behind one of the open drawers of the cabinet, obviously hidden.

               Chevias picked it up, appeared to read the Witch-Speak for a moment, before turning to the back wall of the office. It was unadorned except for a slightly indented portion of the wall. Ellie would’ve missed it entirely, but Chevias seemed to have known it would be there.

               He walked over and placed the panel into the indent. The Witch-Speak flashed, this time the same light green as Chevias’ grimoire. Then the wall behind it opened up and slid to the side.

               It was high up, so Ellie had to stand on her toes to properly see what was inside. She was a little disappointed. The wall had opened up to reveal what looked like a safe. Ellie had been expecting a safe to contain jewels, or valuable information. The contents of this safe were mostly…junk. There were several items in it, most of them made out of what looked like copper, steel, and another bluish metal that Ellie didn’t recognize. They looked like tinker-toys, or pieces of a clock tower…Ellie wasn’t sure how to describe them.

               Chevias ignored the large pieces of metal and pushed them out of the way until he found a box. The box was somewhat small and covered in very dusty velvet. He pulled it out and opened it.

               The box contained a necklace. Now, a necklace was closer to what Ellie imagined belonged in a safe, but this necklace hardly looked valuable enough to stow away. It looked like a piece of junk that was laced onto a string. It was a flat, irregularly shaped piece of metal that was silvery-blue in color (at least Ellie supposed it was, as it was currently bathed in the red light). It had a strange pattern and was otherwise un-noteworthy.

               “You came all the way down here for this? Who would want this?”

               Chevias shrugged, “Who knows, I’m just an errand boy. Come on, let’s go.” He turned around and started heading for the door.

               Ellie glanced back at the still open vault, “Aren’t you going to close it?”

               “No point. Even if someone found this place, those things aren’t valuable anymore.” Naturally he didn’t explain why these items were useless, or what their original use was. He just exited through the hole and didn’t look back. Ellie scrambled after him.

               Instead of heading back the way they came, Chevias lead her further into the bunker, finding that the floor began to slope up again and that the rooms on this side were a bit different from the ones on the other.

               Several appeared to be armories filled with dusty, ancient looking weapons. None of them looked fancy or particularly valuable. Another room was a sprawling one filled with empty shelves. Ellie wasn’t sure if this had been a larder or a library, but she supposed that it didn’t make much sense for an army to carry a library around with them. They passed another particularly large room that looked like an infirmary with beds surrounded by tattered curtains, trays with abandoned medicine, and shelves of old bandages. Even in the crimson light Ellie could see that most of the beds were covered in bloodstains.

               They passed several rooms that were identical to the ones above and several more that Ellie couldn’t fathom the purpose of, like rooms filled with large bird cages and rooms with nothing at all.

               They walked and walked and walked for what seemed to Ellie like an eternity in this dreariness until the hall finally came to an end.

               Instead of a ladder and a trapdoor, like the other end of the bunker, this end was a door. A big, heavy looking metal door. Chevias opened this one just like he did the trapdoor and it swung open at his command. Ellie looked through the door to see that it was surrounded by dead leaves and debris and that there was a steep and narrow set of stairs going up for awhile. At the top of the stairs, the first natural light she’d seen in hours spilled in from a hole just big enough for an adult to squeeze through.

               Chevias climbed the stairs and, with his lithe form, slipped through the hole as easily as a rabbit. He turned around, “Come on, you’re almost there!”

               Ellie clambered up after him and grabbed his hand through the hole. He pulled and picked her right up out of it. Ellie gratefully breathed in the fresh air as Chevias set her down. She was so thrilled to be at ground level again that she barely noticed the way the setting sun stung her eyes.

               Chevias shaded his eyes and looked around, “Alright! Tyman should be about a half hour’s walk from here. We should be able to make it by nightfall.”

               Ellie squinted and looked at her surroundings. The hole that lead to the hidden bunker was nestled between the roots of a large tree, hidden well from all but bunnies and squirrels. The tree wasn’t especially odd looking, except that it was surrounded by the same kind of stone markers that had surrounded the clearing last night. She supposed that anybody who didn’t know what they were would easily overlook these signs, and that one of them must point the way to Tyman.

               “Come on Ellie, we wanna get there before it gets too dark!”

               “Coming!”

My head hurts. This was the only thing apparent to Ellie as she tried to regain consciousness. My head hurts a lot. The pain was splitting, like a knife inside of Ellie’s head.

               She didn’t know how long it took her to peel her eyes open, although she was sure it was awhile. She sure it was longer still before she managed to process what she was seeing. An unfamiliar roof, and a window with yellow curtains that didn’t belong to her room. Ellie wanted to bolt up in panic, but a sharp pain in her head kept her down in the strange bed.

               She then became very aware that her mouth and throat were dry, and that she was very, very hungry. Her stomach felt like an empty hole, yet the thought of eating anything sent a wave of nausea through her. She flopped her head to look at the room. It was a small room, filled with dust. The toys on the floor and ribbons littering a vanity suggested that it was a girl’s room, but stifling air told her no one had used it for a long time.

               Ellie managed to push the covers off of her. She was shocked to find that her dress was covered in rips and tears. Her leg had a large bandage wrap on it, and her shoes were gone. Ellie worked up the effort to tough her head and found her head was also wrapped with gauze. The cause of the splitting pain, she found after a bit of feeling about, was a large lump on the left side of her head. It was tender, but Ellie found that the pain was starting to wear off now that she was awake.

               She rubbed her eyes to get rid of the sleep crusting her lashes. How long had she been asleep? She felt groggy.

               Got to find out where I am…

               She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and carefully stood. She had a strong sense of vertigo for a moment, but it left after she leaned against the wall for support. Still using the wall, Ellie made her way to the door. She opened it onto a small kitchen and an old woman she didn’t recognize.

               The woman turned abruptly, “OH! Thank the Heavens you’re alright dear!”

               Her voice was loud and it made Ellie flinch. “We found you knocked out in the field, poor dear. Come, sit down. You must be starving, you poor thing.”

               Ellie pulled up a chair at the small dining room table. A plate with some bread and cheese was before her in an instant, and a glass of water. “The doctor said we shouldn’t let you eat or drink too fast or you’d be sick, so pace yourself dear.”

               In her confusion, Ellie’s brain only managed to come up with one question, “Doctor?” she rasped.

               “Oh, you sound terrible. Drink up dear.” Ellie starting drinking. “Yes, doctor. When we found you out there, Harold- my husband- hopped on Hoss- our bull- and sent for a doctor. He came back with Harold, bandaged you up, and has been coming back every day to check on you.”

               “Every day?” Ellie said, putting her glass down, “How long was I asleep?”

               “We found you ‘bout three days ago.”

               Ellie could only stare at the woman in stunned silence before sputtering out a reply. “T-three days?! How? What happened?!”

               “We was hoping you could tell us that dear. What your name? Where’re you from?”

               “I’m Ellie Wormwood. I’m from Flatrend-“

               “Flatrend?! That’s about a week ‘n half’s walk from here! How’d you end up here?!”

               “A week and a half?!” Ellie leaned back in her chair as she took this in. How had she gotten here, with her head banged up and her dress torn?

               “…I…I don’t remember.”

               “What you mean?”

               “I…”Ellie was starting to panic. She racked her memory, but the last thing she could remember was picking her way across a little stream in the woods during her search for mushrooms.

               The woman nodded slowly, “…I’d recon you can’t remember cause a that bump on your head. There was blood on a rock when we found you. Looks like you took a nasty fall and cracked yourself.”

               “But that doesn’t explain how I got here!”

               The woman patted her hand gently, “Now now dear, I’m sure you’ll remember in time. For now, eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

               So Ellie ate up. It was dry and a little stale, but it filled her up. The woman introduced herself as Marie, and apologized for shutting Ellie up in that old room.

               “We only got two bedrooms, and since that one’s unused we put you there. Must’ve been stuffy.”

               “No no, I’m grateful for your help. Umm…do you think you could help me get home? I’m sure my parents are worried sick.”

               “Oh, they must be! I’d be worried sick if my little girl had vanished. But I’m afraid we don’t have any horse or extra bull we could lend you. This little farm can barely do enough for itself, much less for helping travelers.”

               Ellie was about to respond when Marie interrupted. “But, we can spare some food and clothes. You see, I had a daughter once. Pretty little girl she was. She died young of fever. If you can find something that fits, you can help yourself.”

               Ellie thanked Marie before she was ushered back into the little room and told to find some clothes.

               At the foot of the bed was a dusty trunk, and Ellie coughed as she lifted the lid. It seems this was where most of Marie’s daughter’s clothes were kept. Ellie rummaged and searched, but all of the dresses except one were too small for her. She supposed that this dress was meant to be the daughter’s nice clothes, and were bought too big so they’d last longer.

               It was a bright, canary yellow dress that came down to above Ellie’s knees. Sewn onto it was a cardinal red vest. It was obnoxiously bright, in Ellie’s opinion, but it would have to do. She also found some brown boots that were just a touch too small, but she could manage that.

               When she came out of the room in her borrowed clothes, Marie looked up. “Ah, yes. I suppose that would be the only one to fit you…. I made that one for Sarah myself. She told me it was garish…where in the world she learned that world I’ll never know….” Marie trailed off, looking at the wall for awhile.  

               Ellie shifted awkwardly, not sure if she should say anything, when Marie suddenly snapped back to her, “Harold was mighty worried about you. Right now he’s off running errands in town, but if he sees you up ‘n about, he’ll insist you stay ‘till your healed. If you wanna leave sometime this month, you should get going.”

               “Ah…alright.”

               “Hold on.” Marie turned to the pantry and pulled out two loaves of bread and a sizable brick of cheese. She pulled a basket form near the counter and put them in, covering them with a worn rag. “Here, this should get you to town.”

               Ellie took the basket gratefully. The two stepped out of the small kitchen and into the morning sun. There was a wide dirt road streaching off into the forest in three directions.

               Marie took Ellie’s shoulder and pointed down the right, “That’s the way to Tyman. It’s a big city, and the only one ‘tween here and Flatrend. If you get walking now, you should make it there by late tomorrow. Once you’re there…well, I don’t know. I’m sure someone will be willing to help a lost girl. It’s over a week’s walk to Flatrend past Tyman, so try to stock up some food there. And maybe someone there will let you ride in the back of their cart.”

               Ellie turned to Marie, “Thank you so much. I don’t know how to repay you.”

               Marie clapped Ellie’s shoulder, “You can repay me by making it back you your momma. I imagine the only thing worse than losing your girl is not knowing how you lost her.”  

               Ellie could only thank Marie one more time before setting out on her journey.

               The forest was quiet and peaceful. The tall trees blocked much of the summer heat, and the path was well trodden and flat, save the occasional branch or small stream running through it. Ellie had lots of time to think during her walk.

               But no matter how long or how hard she thought, she couldn’t remember what had happened to her. Eventually, she gave up on trying to remember, and instead started to theorize. Perhaps she had fallen into an unexpected river and it had washed her down here. When she finally managed to swim out, she tripped and hit her head on a rock.

               This theory was plausible enough, but Ellie was able to pick it apart quickly. If she had been in a river, she would’ve been wet when she hit her head. She doubted even the summer heat would’ve been able to completely dry her clothes. She had a feeling that Marie would’ve been competent enough to change her out of wet clothes to keep her from getting sick, and if not her, the doctor certainly would’ve been. Thus, she reasoned, since I was still in my old clothes when I woke up, a river had nothing to do with it.  

               She felt rather clever until she realized she was back to square one. So she theorized some more. ‘Maybe I was kidnapped!’ Yes, perhaps while searching for mushrooms, a single or group of scoundrels had carried her off. Why they would just drop her, she didn’t know. Maybe she had managed to run from them, hit her head, and they either didn’t find her or left her for dead. It was an unpleasant idea, but more logical than the river.

               In either case, Ellie knew that she had to get home as soon as possible. If it would take a week and a half to get back, that must mean it took at least a week and a half to get here. That plus the three days she was unconscious meant that about two weeks. Her parents must be panicking by now! By now a search party must be combing the forest! Ellie started to walk a little faster at that thought, nervous about what she would find when she got home.

               She was sure her parents would be relieved. But that would only last so long until they were angry. Where did you go, why did you go?! Do you want to put me in an early grave?! The answers to those questions were ‘I don’t know, I don’t know, and of course not!’ But she doubted her parents would buy that she had bumped her head and forgotten her little week or so long trip. They would be furious at her for lying, even though she really had no earthly idea how she got there.

               Ellie sighed and slowed her pace a bit. There’s no point in rushing too fast. You’ll wear yourself out and it won’t do any good for alleviating the anger that was coming.

               And so Ellie brooded and chewed over the problem like that until the sun was high over her head. She realized that she had been walking until noon. Her legs were aching and her throat was dry, so she backtracked to a little stream she had passed a few minutes ago. The water was clear enough, and since she wouldn’t reach town until tomorrow, this was the cleanest water she could get. She drank out of her cupped hands and after she’d had enough she on the dirt at the edge of the path. She pulled a loaf of bread from the basket and broke it in half. This would have to last until tomorrow, at least, so she wanted to ration it.

               Just as Ellie had finished up the half loaf and started on a hunk of cheese, she heard a great deal of snapping and crackling from across the road. She put the cheese back and stood, alarmed as the noise was getting closer. She heard a lot of shouting and…roaring?

               The brush and bushes were trampled as a grizzly charged through them, great fangs barred and foaming at the mouth. Ellie shrieked and threw herself aside before the bear trampled her. She landed hard on her side, scraping her arm on the rocks. The bear was now facing her, but instead of attacking her, it was rearing up on its hind legs, growling and snarling and foaming at the mouth. It was wrangling as though trying to buck something off of it.

               And then it fell to the ground dead.

               Ellie was stunned for a moment. The bear looked like it had had quite a rough time. It was covered in scratches and gouges, and it looked as though something had knocked its teeth out. And then that something crawled out from under the bear.

               It was a young man. He stood with his back to Ellie, facing the bear. “There we go. Was that so hard?” The bear didn’t respond.

               The man stooped by the bear’s head, pried open its muzzle, and started, to Ellie’s horror, to yank out the rest of the bear’s teeth. As much as this shocked her, she was immediately distracted by a black flash across her vision. It took her a minute to figure out what she was seeing. And when she did, it took all of her power not to gasp.

               Swishing about behind the man was a tail. It was long and whip-like, and ended in a tuft, a bit like a cow’s tail. But this tail was about as long as the man was tall, fully five-foot ten inches, and the tuft was thick and fluffy looking. It wagged leisurely near her, the plume trailing a bit on the ground.

               Ellie tried to carefully back away from him before the tail brushed up against her. SNAP! She glanced down to see that her hand had snapped a twig.

               The man was on his feet and had whirled around to face her before she could look back at him.  

               He was a lean man, with jet black hair that stuck up in an odd way and large, completely black eyes that stood out starkly from his pure white skin. He stared at her for a moment with those black eyes, his hand full of the bear’s teeth.

               “Oh…umm…hello.”

               Ellie could only stare back at him.

               He hesitated for a moment before shoving the teeth in the bag that hung from his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Ellie realized that he was about to try to help her up, so she scrambled to her feet.

               “Yes! I’m quite alright!”

               He backed off at her hostility, “Ah, good. So…what are you doing out here?”

               It was then that Ellie noticed that his hands were covered in blood. She couldn’t see any sheath or other weapons on him. ‘Did he kill that grizzly with his bare hands?’Ellie was horrified at the thought and took a step away from him.

               “I’m…on my way to Flatrend. Who are you?”

               He seemed to have noticed Ellie’s gaze. He pulled a rag from the bag and started wiping his hands off on it. The rag was a dark crimson. Ellie was willing to bet it used to be a different color.

               “I’m Chevias. Sorry about the bear. That must’ve been scary.”

               “Why’d you do that to it anyway?”

               He looked back at the hulking corpse, “To put it simply, it’s my job to collect things people want. I don’t know why, but someone wanted bear teeth. Unfortunately, bears don’t like having their teeth ripped out.”

               He sighed, “It’s a shame. I tried to give it a sedative, but it didn’t take fast enough. It started rampaging for the road, so I decided to kill it in case there was someone was on the road that could’ve gotten hurt.” He looked back down at Ellie, “Though I didn’t actually expect someone to be here. Where are your parents? It’s dangerous for kids to be walking alone out here.”  

               Ellie hesitated for a moment. ‘Well,’ she pondered, ‘if he wanted to hurt me, he probably would’ve done it already. Someone who can kill a bear with no weapons probably isn’t too worried about potential witnesses.’

               “I…found myself far from home, and I’m on my way back.”

               “Wait, you live in Flatrend?” His onyx eyes flicked up to the bandages still wrapped around my head and left leg.

               Perhaps he sensed that the situation was something Ellie wouldn’t be comfortable disclosing to a stranger, so he abruptly changed the subject. “Anyways, if you’re going to Flatrend, you need to get to Tyman first. And you won’t be able to get there today. Are you prepared to camp?”

               He clearly already knew the answer. Marie hadn’t given Ellie anymore than two days worth of food, not even a box of matches. Ellie quietly shook her head.

               “Well, you can come with me if you want. I’m heading toward Flatrend anyway, and it’d be safer for you to be with someone else.” He said, seeing the look on Ellie’s face that said ‘I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could you.’

               “Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I’dve done it. Beside, we’re going the same way anyway.” This was a fair point. So Ellie thought about a moment more before nodding.

               “Ok, great! Let’s get moving.  I know a great camping spot for tonight, and if we hurry we can make it there.”

               Before he started off, he looked at the bear’s body. “Ah, shouldn’t leave this laying the road.”

               He bent down, grabbed the corpse by the fur, and dragged it off into the woods. Ellie stared open, her mouth open. Perhaps making a traveling companion out what could only be described as a monster was a bad idea after all.

               But before she could consider hiding behind a tree and waiting for him to go ahead without her, he returned and smiled at her. For the first time, Ellie noticed that his teeth were sharp and triangular, like the maw of a shark.

               “Well, let’s go…right, what’s your name?”

               She swallowed, her throat a little dry, “Ellie. I’m Ellie Wormwood.”

               “Right, let’s go Ellie.”

               And so Ellie followed Chevias down the path, hopefully towards home.

               Ellie couldn’t tell if she should feel glad that she was no longer alone in the dense forest, or be terrified of her new companion. On one hand, Chevias was so strong that if any bandits tried to ambush them, she was sure he’d be able to beat them down with the same strength that allowed him to drag a five hundred or so pound bear corpse like it was nothing. On the other hand, she had no way of knowing if he would decide to turn that strength on her during the trip.

               They walked in silence for awhile, and after about a half hour Ellie’s adrenaline and anxiety had died down enough for her to notice that Chevias was being careful not to outpace her with his much longer legs. He could’ve easily left her the dust. She didn’t know if this made her feel uneasy or not. He was walking a few feet in front of her, so she stared at his back. He had, for some reason, wrapped his tail around his waist and tucked it under a white sash he wore-probably with the specific purpose of hiding his tail, she supposed. She had a feeling he’d done it to try and ease her fear.  

               ‘Perhaps I should try talking to him,’ she thought. She figured that if she questioned him, and if at any point he sounded suspicious, she would sneak away during the night and pray she didn’t run into anything else unpleasant during her journey home.

               “Umm…”

               Chevias looked over his shoulder at her, “Hm?”

               Ellie fumbled for a question. She mentally kicked herself for not coming up with anything beforehand. “Umm…ah…are you…a witch?”

               ‘A stupid question,’ she chastised herself. ‘Of course he’s a witch! Never heard of an elf or an orc with a tail, have you? And he’s certainly no goblin or dwarf either.’

               Despite that, Chevias slowed down until he and Ellie were walking side by side. “Yeah, I am.”

               “Oh! Well, ah, I’ve never seen a witch before, so I wasn’t sure. Sometimes elves and orcs will come through Flatrend, and one time a dwarf came to sell some fancy little pocket watches, so I knew what those looked like. And one time a band of goblins tried to attack the village, but the adults fought them off. They locked up all us kids in the town hall, so I didn’t really get to see any of them though. But I’ve heard they’re black or purple and little like a toddler, and that they’re tails are short and bald like a sheared rabbit, not like yours at all,” Ellie babbled, wringing her hands nervously.

‘Stupid, stupid!’ Her mind yelled at her, ‘Get a hold of yourself! Quit rambling like a nitwit and ask him something else!’

               “Why are you going to Flatrend?” Ellie almost had to clamp her mouth with her hand to keep herself from prattling on.

               Chevias had taken a step away from her due to her panicked behavior. “Actually I’m going through it. I’ve got a lot of stops on the way, but I’m heading to the capital.”

               “To Northwind? What’re you going there for?”

               He sighed, sounding a touch exasperated. “If only I knew. I just go where my boss tells me to go and pick up what she wants me to.”

               “You don’t seem to like it very much.”

“Would you? It’s a never ending cycle of ‘go here, go there, do this and that, and make it snappy!’” He said that bit in a high pitched, mocking voice. Ellie got the distinct impression he disliked his boss. “And I pretty much never know why I’m going somewhere until I’m almost there! My current job? She told me about it two days ago! I’ve told her it’d be easier to prepare for trips if I knew exactly where I was going, and you know what she told me? ‘A mule never knows where it’s going until its lead there either. You’re the mule here, so shut up and do your job!’” He huffed angrily.

               Ellie was a bit surprised at how talkative he was being. All she could think to say was, “That sounds hard….”

               He sighed, “Can’t quit though. This is what I’m best at.”

               “Why doesn’t your boss go and get these things herself if she needs them so bad?”

               He guffawed, “Her? Please, she’s a bureaucrat. She wouldn’t last a day doing my job.”

               Ellie wasn’t entirely sure what a bureaucrat was, but it gave her the impression that Chevias’ boss was frail and weak, which made her wonder how the boss got the nerve to be rude to someone who considered ripping out grizzly teeth to be par for the course. “Is your job that dangerous?”

               “Well, no one would volunteer for it. As it turns out, not many people want to be thrown around the entire country and into certain death on a weekly basis until they’re seventy. ”

               This sparked Ellie’s interest. One of the children of Flatrend’s favorite pastimes was to gather around and listen to the stories of any traveler who would take the time to tell them. She had heard all kinds of stories and never once got bored of them. “Really? All around the country? You’ve been everywhere in Noelvah?”

               He smiled at her, “Yup, just about everywhere. I even had to go to Wehsan once.”

               “All the way to Wehsan!” Ellie’s fear was beginning to wane in favor of curiosity. Of all the travelers that had passed through Flatrend, only one that she could remember-the dwarf selling pocket watches, to be exact-had ever been away from the country of Noelvah.

               “Yeah, and I had to get there on a tuna boat of all things! Well, it was a tuna boat until we were high jacked-”

               “High jacked?!”

               “-by pirates.” Chevias looked like he was going to stop talking about it there, but the excitement and delight on Ellie’s face urged him on. And so he launched into the full story.

               “You see, I was down at Mirkland-that’s a big port city- taking a break from the last trip at an inn. Then in comes Errol-that’s the messenger who brings me letters from the boss- and Eroll says ‘This one’s a doozy Chev, I can’t believe they’re making you do this.’ So I open the letter and it tells me that they want me to find some special rock that can only be found on the coast of Wehsan!”

               “What’s so special about it?”

               “Apparently it’s a kind of gem, and there must be something special about the water in Wehsan, because this gem only shows up there. Anyway, the letter had some money in it, and told me to use that to bribe a boat to take me with them. I should mention that it didn’t include fare for the way back!”

               “So I say to Errol, ‘They want me to brave the Murky Ocean so that I can spend possibly months sifting through sand for a rock?!’ ‘No,’ he says, ‘they want you to do it in three.’ Three months?! It takes over half a month just get there, and another to get back! I said just as much to Errol, and he tells me that Erisla-call her a coworker-managed to get from the coast to the heart of the rainforest and bring back the bulb of a giant angler in just three months! The trip alone was almost three months; it should’ve taken her a year to find a fish that rare!”

               “Then Errol tells me that if I can’t get this done in time, Erisla’s going to take my title as the best in the business. So next thing I know, he’s shoved me to the pier and I have to convince a bunch of folk who’ve never seen a witch in their lives that I’m not gonna try to eat them.” Ellie could sympathize with that. She had wondered the same thing herself when she saw Chevias’ saw-like teeth.

               “It took me two days to get something set up, but I managed to get a ride on a tuna boat-S.S Misery, ain’t that fitting? I had to spend about three weeks on a tiny boat with ten other men who looked at me like I was something from the bottom of the ocean.” Ellie had never seen something from the bottom of the ocean; she had never even seen the ocean. But she could imagine what that felt like.

               “Then one of the crew shouts ‘Hey, there’s a ship o’er  there!’ And I look up just as the captain yells, ‘That ain’t just a ship ya moron! That’s a bloody pirate ship!’ So the crew starts arguing over whether we should try to get away or not. And the captain says ‘Ya see this boat? Ya think it can outrun that? Course it can’t! Just let ‘em take the fish. If we’re compliant, they might let us go instead of running swords through us.”

               Ellie chirped up, “So they just LET the pirates on board?”

               “Well, they let them catch us. The S.S Misery was too small for the pirates to climb aboard, so they marched us onto their boat. Then the pirate captain started pacing in front of us, making some obnoxious speech about how appreciative he was about our cooperation and all that, until he gets to me. He stops in the middle of his speech and says, ‘This one alright? He’s pale as a fish.’ Then the guy standing next to me squeaks out ‘This guy’s a witch!’”

               “’A witch?’ the captain said, ‘you mean the kind said to live up in the mountains? Thought they didn’t actually exist.’ Then the guy looks me over, ‘So what’s so witchy about you? Ya look like a human to me.’ And then guy next to me shoves his elbow into my ribs and mutters, ‘Go on man, show the nice captain with the sword your tail.’              

               “So I pull out my tail and the whole pirate crew starts swearing up a blue storm. Then one of ‘em grabs my tail and yells, ‘Let’s take this one with us! Someone’ll buy a witch!’”

               Ellie gasped, “They wanted to sell you?! What did you do?”

               “I told him to f…” he looked over at Ellie and cleared his throat, “…to let go of my tail. Then the captain says ‘That’s a mighty fine idea! Toss ‘im in the brig, grab everythin’ on the boat an’ let the others go then.’ So I said, ‘If you’re going to Wehsan, then sure, count me in! Better than being crammed on a boat that’ll probably sink before it gets to port.’”

               “You just LET them take you?!”

               “The captain was about as surprised as you are, and he got real suspicious. He made some of his crew pat me down to make sure I wasn’t carrying any warrants; he thought I might’ve been hired by the kingdoms to arrest him. Of course he didn’t find anything. So they threw me down in the brig and only came down to give me food and water.” He laughed a bit, “I think I gave most of the crew the creeps, so they only sent this poor guy they shanghaied down to bring me meals. His name was Mitch, and after a few days he realized that I’m not going to maim him through the bars and we start chatting a lot.”

               “So he asks me why I was went along with the being taken prisoner, and I say, ‘You saw the boat I was on. On this boat, I get fed something other than fish, my own space, and still get to go where I was heading. This is a win-win for me.’ Then he says, ‘Ok, but what are you going to do when we get to shore? The captain’s gonna have you taken to the nearest auction as soon as we’re at port.’”

               “I told him I would just escape, but I don’t think he believed me. Anyways, after a while we finally get to Weshan and the captain comes down with a couple of his biggest guys and has them haul me out of the cell. They drag me off the ship and try to go through some back alley-no doubt where some slave auction is held, and before we’re even in the alley some guy sees my tail, runs up, and starts asking about me. Then the guy and the captain start poking and prodding me, looking at my teeth like I’m a horse. So I tell them to…” he glanced over at Ellie again, “…well, something not very nice. Then the captain takes a swing at me and I dodge, and he slugs his first mate right in jaw!”

               “The guy loses his grip on me and I’m gone before they can blink. So I stop by a shop, restock some supplies, and start roaming over the coast looking for the rock I need.” He pinched his pointer and thumb together to make a very small circle, “These rocks don’t get much bigger than this! I ended wading around shallows, shifting through sand, and camping on the beach for five weeks! I wasn’t even done and I never wanted to see the ocean again.”

               “Um, can I ask you something?” Ellie interrupted.

               “Yeah, what?”

               “What’s the ocean like in Weshan? For that matter, what’s the sea like around Noelvah?”

               “Well, they’re very different. See, because the ocean around Noelvah’s got the Great River and The Bog feeding into it, the water’s really murky and brown around most of the inhabited coast. The sands on the shore are brown, they’re covered in seaweed-that’s a very slimy underwater plant that’s usually dark brown around here-and there’s usually washed up jellyfish just lying around.”

               “What’s a jellyfish?”

               “Basically a fish that’s nothing but a glob of goo with tentacles hanging off it that sting. Things still sting even when their dead, so you have to watch your step. Anyway, it’s all in all the some of the ugliest scenery you’ll ever see. But the shore in Weshan, at least the part I spent time in, were much prettier. The water was blue and you see the bottom, and it was much cleaner than beaches here. And the animals were more interesting to. Do you know what a turtle is?”

               Ellie nodded, “Yes, sometimes I find ones in creeks.”

               “Well, the turtles you see are little, right? And they have webbed feet? Now imagine a turtle as big as you are, with flat, oar-like flippers that stay in the water all the time! I saw a bunch of those over in Weshan. Apparently they normally live in warmer waters, but were there for the summer.”

               The image of a huge turtle that glides around in water like a bird was quite fantastic to Ellie, and she said as much. “Really?! That’s amazing! What other things did you see?”

               And so Chevias started off naming and describing the kinds of plants and animals that he’d seen to Ellie. Most of them were kinds of fish and other aquatic things, like a squishy thing with eight legs called an octopus, but he also told her about other animals, like the kinds of dog breeds he saw there that Ellie had never heard of. When the original settlers of Noelvah came from Weshan, they only brought a few breeds of dogs with them. He also told her that Weshan had giant cats! One was a tame kind that was as big as a large dog, and the rest were wild. Chevias seemed to like cats, as he told Ellie about how friendly the domesticated ones were and how they would just lay down and let you rub their stomachs, but Ellie wasn’t entirely convinced that a cat big enough to pull a loaded cart could be that friendly. She’d seen the cats in Flatrend, and those some very mean animals.

               Ellie rather wished she had her diary with her, so she could write down all the things Chevias was telling her about so she wouldn’t forget any details when she told the other kids at home about them. As much as she couldn’t wait to get back, Chevias’ stories were interesting enough to keep the dim throbbing in her head, and her aching feet, and her worries about her mysterious circumstances and what waited for her at home at bay. Ellie was finding that she was very glad she had run into him now.

               After he had run out of animals and plants interesting enough to occupy her curiosity, he continued with the story.

“Well, to make a very long and boring amount of sifting through sand alone on a beach short, I finally found what I was looking for. Wanna guess where I found it?”

“Stuck in your shoe?”

He laughed, “No, good guess though. I found it at night, while I was cooking up some fish for dinner. I was cleaning the fish and slicing it open, and out of its stomach falls something shiny. I pick it up, and it’s the exact thing I’m looking for! A rock about this big,” he pinched his fingers to demonstrate again, “a kind of pale blue, and a little glossy. Almost like a pearl, but see through.”

“I scattered birds for miles with how loud I yelled. I could finally go back to Noelvah! The problem was, I’d have to find a ride, and I was out of money. So that same night I headed back into the big port town I landed in, and who do I see? None other than Mitch, the cabin boy! He sees me, rushes over, and drags me behind a building. ‘Chevias,’ he says, ‘what are you doing here? When I hear you’d managed to slip away from the cap’n, I could hardly believe my ears!’ I said, ‘Well, I found what I was looking for, so now I’m looking for a boat back to Noelvah.’”

“He looked real nervous and says, ‘then you’d better not let any of the crew see you loitering about.’ I asked him why they were still in port anyway. He told me that since the crew had acquired an impressive of money by attacking a ship of dignitaries on their last voyage, they were still hanging around and squandering it. And that if any of them saw me, they’d get the crew together and hunt me down. Suffice to say, I made the captain pretty angry when I escaped. Mitch told me that even five weeks later he’d go on drunken rants about how he’d cut my tail off and make oxtail soup with it if he ever got his hands on me again.” The image was somehow comical to Ellie, and she couldn’t help but giggle a bit. She wasn’t sure if it was the image of a stumbling drunk pirate or the fact that Chevias’ tail did look like a very long cow’s tail.

“Then I asked Mitch why he hadn’t run away yet if he’d been shanghaied. He said, ‘I’d leave if I could, but my family is in Noelvah and the captain’s careful to only give me enough money for some food. I can’t get a ride back!’ So I grab him and say, ‘Tell you what Mitch; you help me acquire a ride back, and you can come along.’”

“He asks me, ‘But how do we do that?’ ‘Easy,’ I tell him. So I tell him we’ll just steal the pirate’s ship.”

“You did what?!”

“That was about his reaction. So I ask him what the pirates did at night down here. He tells me that all but five of them leave at night for taverns, while those five stay behind to guard the ship. ‘Perfect!’ I said. ‘Tomorrow night, you stay behind when the pirates leave; don’t worry, I don’t think they’ll notice you. When all but the one is gone, you lean over the rail and give me the signal, then I’ll hop aboard, beat the guard, and we’ll be home free.”

“He said it was a good plan except that he didn’t know how to sail. At least not enough to get us over the sea alone. So I tell him I’ll have that problem taken care of by tomorrow night and we part ways. I skulked around town until I found the kind of place I was looking for. A seedy looking bar full of would-be pirates.”

“What makes them would be pirates?”

“They’re mostly just regular thugs that either couldn’t get a hold of enough money to buy a ship of their own, or had a ship and lost it. Anyways, so I ask the bartender if anyone here would be interested in high jacking a pirate ship. I’m not entirely sure how, cause I was talking pretty low, but everyone in the joint managed to hear that, and I was surrounded before I could blink.”

“They asked me what I was on about, so I told them I was stranded here and needed to go back to Noelvah as soon as possible, and needed someone or someones who could sail a ship. I told them I didn’t have any money, but they could keep the boat afterwards. So one of them comes up to me-an older guy with a peg leg-and he introduces himself as Randy. He said he used to be a captain of a ship until it got wrecked during a storm, and that he’d never been able to get another, but he’d kill to sail again. So he shoos the other patrons away-I guess he was respected in that circle, cause they didn’t argue-and he asks me what the plan is. So I tell him and he agrees to it. He also said I can stay the night with him in his cabin. I decided I would spend the time better by gathering up some supplies and such, and asked him it gather up anyone who’d be willing to help.”

“So I spent the rest of the night and the next day getting barrels of fresh water and food, and met up with Randy and the five or so guys he rounded up the next night. I wish the rest of the story was more exciting, but things surprisingly went according to plan. Mitch gave the signal, we stormed the ship and kicked the guards off, then the new crew hauled up the provisions and we were off. Then it was a blessedly uneventful voyage back.”

“That’s rather anti-climatic.”

“I’m noticing a lot of my stories tend to be.” Chevias looked up at the sky, “In any case, it’s starting to get dark.”

Ellie’s gaze shot to the sky and was surprised to see that he was right. The sun had already sunk below the treetops and sunset couldn’t be more than two hours away. “Ah, you’re right! Are we near the campsite you mentioned?”

“Yeah, it should be nearby. Keep an eye on the trees next to the road. There should be some markings about here,” he indicated the proper height with his hand, “that marks the path to it.”

They found it about ten minutes later. The marks that Chevias mentioned proved to be no more than a series of scratches that were gouged deep enough into the bark to be permanent.

Ellie crossed her arms and raised her brow “Those are the markings? I completely missed them. They look like someone used this tree as a sparring partner.”

Chevias ran his hand over the scratches, “This is them alright. It’s Witch-Speak.” He turned to look at Ellie, “Although someone who’s never seen it before would mistake it for random scratches. Come on, the sight’s this way.”

He walked past the tree and into the woods. Ellie followed, starting to get nervous again. They were leaving the road and going into the forest. If the sight was far from the road and Chevias were to decide to leave her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to find her way back to the road. To her relief, the sight was hardly a stone’s throw from the road. Despite its close proximity, it was surrounded by dense foliage and she wouldn’t be surprised if even the merchants that traveled this path on a regular basis didn’t know it existed.

The sight itself was a small, circular clearing with some odd little stones lined up around the perimeter. As she got closer, she could see that these stones had markings similar to the ones on the trees. “Hey, what are these stones for?” Ellie had been imagining that they were some kind of protection, like the prayers for a safe journey that were etched into the back of Flatrend’s welcome sign. Chevias glanced down at them, “They’re basically a compass, so we don’t get turned around while we sleep. Some of them have directions on them,” he pointed to the one Ellie was standing next to, “that one says ‘Main Road’.”

“Oh,” was all Ellie could muster up in response to that. She was a bit impressed by the practicality, but more impressed that Chevias could read the worn scratches so easily. Then again, she supposed it was no more impressive than anyone else reading their native language. Still, she couldn’t really fathom how he was able to discern words from the chicken scratch.

Chevias looked at the fire pit in the center of the clearing, “Well, no one’s been here in a while. Ellie, do you know how to build a fire?”

Her head snapped up, “Huh? Oh, well…not really.”

“Ok then, you just…gather up firewood, ok? Just walk around and pick up any dry wood you find. Pluck any leaves off to, got it? And don’t wander too far from the clearing.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find dinner. There’s a huge rabbit burrow not far from here. I’ll be back in a bit.” And with that, he vanished into the woods.

Ellie couldn’t help but wonder how he intended to catch a rabbit with his bare hands. Ellie had never hunted before, but she was pretty sure you needed to make a trap to catch them. ‘Oh well,’ she thought, ‘he seemed confident. He’s probably done this before.’

Ellie ventured into the woods to complete her task. Luckily, there was lots of wood lying around, and she didn’t have to go too far from the camp to get it. She wasn’t sure how much wood a fire would need, so she made multiple trips, gathering as much as she could carry and bringing it back to the camp. After awhile, she realized she had made quite a sizable pile of fallen branches.

‘I figure this should be enough….’ She sat down beside the pile and started pulling leaves off of the branches, setting the stripped wood in on her other side. For awhile, she was absorbed in the task, but as time drew on and her pile grew smaller, she started to realize that it was getting quite hard to see. The light was fading faster and faster, and Chevias still wasn’t back yet.

She forced herself not to worry about it by focusing on the task at hand, but when she had finished the pile, she no longer had anything to distract her nerves. She kneaded the hem of her dress over and over as she listened to the sounds of the forest; frogs croaking, cicadas buzzing, and the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance. She sat in silence and stewed in her anxiety as dusk turned into night. The stars came out overhead, but although they were bright, it wasn’t enough to see well by.

Panic and fear started to swell up again. Where was Chevias? He said it wouldn’t take long. What if something had happened? What if he decided she was annoying and just left her here? What if this was all some kind of elaborate trap? Ellie’s eyes started to burn as her imagination started running wild. ‘That would be just my luck, wouldn’t it? After the day I’ve had, getting abandoned in the forest is just the icing on the cake, isn’t it?’

She forced herself to breath evenly. ‘I have to calm down. It doesn’t matter if he left me here. I know where the road is. I can get to Tyman myself if I have to. After that, I just need to find someone to give me a ride home.’ She cast her gaze to the small patch of sky above her. The sight of the stars calmed her down a bit, but they brought on a wave of sadness. ‘I want to go home. I’m already sick of traveling. Once I’m home, I’ll never have to travel again for as long as I live.” The idea of living the rest of her life in one place seemed awfully appealing to her as she sat alone in the woods.

Her thoughts swirled and bounced from negative and fearful to hopeful and reasonable in such a manner for quite awhile. At the very least she was glad it was summer; despite the bug bites, at least she wouldn’t freeze to death in the night.

“Hey-“

“AAHHH!”

Ellie shrieked and fell backwards, looking at the edge of the clearing wildly. Even with his eerily pale skin, Chevias was barely visible in the starlight. He took a step back in alarm.

“You! You scared me half to death!”

“Sorry, I-”

“I didn’t hear you coming at all! Next time you’re approaching someone at night, try to make a little noise, would you?!”

Ellie couldn’t stop the trembling in her hands, so she crossed her arms tightly. She hoped the trembling had stayed out of her voice. Judging by Chevias’ expression, it hadn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “That took longer than I thought it would.” He walked closer to the center and set down what he’d been carrying-two small and lean dead rabbits. From the way their heads flopped around limply, she guessed Chevias had broken their necks. Despite the fact that he’d killed them in a very clean way, she could see that his hands were glistening with what looked like fresh blood.

“What happened to you?”

“There was a band of goblins camping right outside of the rabbit burrow.” Chevias clicked his tongue in distaste, “They’d been there for awhile, from the looks of it. So I…” he paused to glance down at his hands, “…drove them out. After that, it took a long time for some rabbits to come out of their dens.”

“In any case,” he continued, looking at her pile of firewood, “you kept yourself busy. Good job, this is more than enough.” He bent down to the fire pit and got to work. A few minutes later, they had a decent fire going. Ellie was relieved by the warm glow it casted over the clearing.

Chevias reached over to grab the rabbits, then nervously looked at her, “…You might not wanna watch this.” Part of Ellie wanted to say that she was perfectly used to cleaning animals. She’d even done it to a few of the farm’s chickens herself. Instead, she spun around to look at the forest without saying a word. As curious as she could be, she got the distinct feeling that Chevias was about to do something scary. As in, kill a bear with no weapons kind of scary. She gulped as the wet sound of blood hitting soil started. She hadn’t heard anything like a blade leave a sheath.

‘You need to travel with him for another day at least, a week at most. I’d rather be able to do that without being completely terrified of him.’ Even so, Ellie was very confused about how he was managing to skin the rabbit’s like that. But she forced herself to keep her eyes on the trees even as she heard some snapping sounds like sticks being broken.

In a surprisingly short amount of time, the smell of roasting rabbit filled the air. “…Alright, you can turn around now.”

Ellie followed the command, facing Chevias and the fire again. He was sitting a few feet to her right and was wiping the blood off his hands with that old rag again. An icy chill shook her. Chevias had started cleaning the rabbits on the other side of the fire. She didn’t see any guts or even the skins around, so he had managed to get up and discard them in the brush, then walk right next to her and take the sticks from her pile to make the spit, then made the spit. All without her hearing one footstep.

She had been busy panicking and talking on the road, but now that she thought about it, Chevias had an impossibly quite step.

“So,” Chevias began, catching Ellie off guard, “I’ve got a little stop to make just outside of Tyman. It won’t take long and it’s on the way. You can come if you want, or you go on by yourself, it’s up to you.”

“By myself?”

He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t really make out. “…Ellie, how’d you end up all the way out here, if you don’t mind telling me? You don’t know how to make a fire and your clothes aren’t exactly fit for roughing it.”

Ellie looked down at the bright yellow of her dress and grimaced, “….”

“…Does it have to do with that bandage on your head?”

Ellie sighed, ‘I guess there’s no point in not telling him. Maybe he can help me figure out what happened.’

“…I actually don’t remember how I got out here. I woke up on a farm this morning. My clothes were torn up, I had a big bump on my head, and apparently I’d been asleep for three days.”

“….” Chevias said nothing to this, but was listened intently.

“The old woman on the farm was very kind. She gave me these clothes, some food, and told me the way home. But she doesn’t know how I got there either.”

“Hmm…what about your leg? What’s wrong there?”

“Oh, this.” Ellie looked down at the bandage on her leg, “I actually don’t know. It doesn’t hurt much, and I was in such a hurry that I didn’t bother to take it off and look.”

“Well, take it off.”

She didn’t argue with him, and instead started unwrapping the gauze. She gasped as the bandage fell away.

Her leg had several long, thin scabs that stretched from about the middle of her calf and wrapped to the side, near her ankle. The scabs were surrounded by the remains of large bruise. It seems that the cuts were shallow enough to have healed this much in just three days, but the fact that she hadn’t felt much pain from such a noticeable wound shocked Ellie.

At her gasp, Chevias had silently gotten up and come to crouch in front of her, inspecting the wound. To Ellie’s relief, he didn’t try to touch her, but he frowned at the scratches, “Looks like something caught your leg here.”

“Yeah, but what did this? I don’t remember this!”

“…It could’ve been a tree branch.”

“A branch did this!?”

“Look,” he pointed to the top of the scratches, at the front of her leg. “It’s wider here than the other spots, so this is probably where the scratch started. You were probably running and scratched it up on a fallen branch.” Even as he said this, Chevias had a look of deep thought on his face.

Ellie voiced her doubts, “That doesn’t explain the bruising.” Chevias said nothing to that, but went back to his place by the fire.

“…Ellie, have you considered the possibly that you were kidnapped?”

Her blood turned cold, “…I thought about it.”

He had a grave look on his face, “I’ll tell you what that bruise looks like. It looks like someone tried to grab your leg while you were running away, and they scratched you in the process.”

Ellie took a deep breath and held it for a bit before exhaling, “…I’d been thinking about all this when you showed up. I figured it was most likely that some bandits caught me while I was mushroom picking and carried me off. I didn’t want it to be true, but it was the most logical answer I think of.”

“It’s the best I can come up with too. Well…” he looked Ellie over, “…they probably dropped you off the horse and figured you were dead. At least you got away safe enough.”

“Yeah, thank goodness for that.”

Chevias turned to the rabbits that were still roasting, “These are probably done by now. Here.” He reached over and picked up a stick by the end, then handed it to Ellie. She carefully took it and blew a bit on the rabbit. Chevias took his own and started tearing into it without bothering to let it cool.

Once Ellie was sure it was cool enough, she followed suit and started eating while she mulled over what she would do. When the time came tomorrow for Chevias to head off to do his errand, she could either follow him, or continue onto town alone. The only reason she could think of to not go with him is that perhaps his errand might take longer than expected, and she’d have to stay an extra night Tyman. On the other hand, considering she wouldn’t be able to reach Tyman until late tomorrow, it would be unlikely that she’d be able to arrange a method home and get started on it tomorrow anyway. Plus, sticking with Chevias meant that she wouldn’t have to worry about bandits or food as much.

She glanced over at him and saw that he was almost done with the rabbit. His sharp teeth ripped through the meat with no resistance. She looked back down at her own rabbit. ‘Sure, he’s pretty strange, and a little scary. But he’s been nothing but kind to me. Really, he’s given me no reason to mistrust him…alright, I’ve decided.’

“Chevias?”

He looked up at her, “Yeah?”

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stick together until we get to Flatrend.”

He smiled at her, “Sure, if you want.”

“Also, I want to thank you. You’ve been really kind to me.” Ellie giggled a little, “You know, I’ve never seen a witch before you, but I’ve heard all kinds of stories about them being unfriendly and cold, so I was pretty scared of you at first.”

Chevias blinked and slowly put down his skewer, which was mostly covered in bone and gristle now. “…Well, those stories wouldn’t be wrong.”

“Pardon?”

Chevias shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable, “Most witches never leave the mountains, and never see anybody except for other witches. So on the occasion they do come down, they usually don’t know how to interact with other races. And ever since they started sending people like me to do dirty work, the number of witches that roam has dropped even further.”

“But you’re so nice!”

“I’ve been doing this job and interacting with other races since I was twelve, so my social skills are more developed than the average witch.”

“I see…then what are other witches like?”

Chevias waved his hand, brushing off the question, “Not important. If you’re lucky, I’m the only one you’ll ever meet. And trust me; I could name a few that you wouldn’t want to run into.”

“Alright….” Ellie punctuated that with a yawn.

Chevias yawned in turn, “Yeah, I think it’s time to sleep. I’ll put out the fire, so go on.”

“Should one of us keep watch?”

“Nah. No one’s gonna bother us here. Just go to sleep, I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

“Ok, if you say so.” Ellie settled into a patch of ground, sorely wishing for her bed at home. “Goodnight Chevias.”

“Night Ellie.”

The Wormwood farm was unusually charming looking for this part of Flatrend. It was a spacious house made of pale stone and arching windows you could see lacey curtains fluttering behind. Jutting out of the back of the house was a three story tower. This tower was originally built to house the Wormwood’s in-laws after their homes burned down some three hundred and sixty years ago, but now it houses two of the children of the house and a guest room. Behind the house is a high wooden fence that closes in the farm. Yes, it was a fairly charming looking house, but it’s most unusual feature was its scarlet roof. From a distance, one would only assume it to be an unusual sort of tile. However, upon closer inspection, a passerby would be amazed to find that the house was shingled with dragon scales!

Then the passerby would surmise that this farm must be quite old, to be covered in the iridescent hide of a beast that hasn’t lived in Noelvah for over three-hundred years. As a matter of fact, Wormwood farm was built about four hundred and eighty-seven years ago, though the crimson roof was later addition. There was a short time in the kingdom of when dragon rearing seemed feasible. In those few decades, the upper and middle classes had access to goods now considered priceless, like dragon teeth and eggs. During that time, Wormwood farm suffered a fire as a result of a toddler and a candlestick, and although its stone foundation survived, it lost it’s previously hay roof. And so, the then head of house decided to invest in fire-proof dragon scales to ensure his brood would never have to sleep under the elements again. Shortly after, the dragons used to produce these products managed to escape. They ran amok in Noelvah for a few months before migrating back their homeland. It was during this time that Wormwood farm doubled as Wormwood shelter, as all the other houses in town burned to the ground.

Yes, it’s a charming looking place indeed. It’s just a shame it’s not a very charming smelling place. For Wormwood farm didn’t farm any sort of crop or cow or sheep. No, Wormwood farm instead peddled in chickens. And anyone who’s ever ventured too close to a chicken house can tell you that if smells could be bottled, the smell of a chicken coop would be considered a weapon of war. It simply is an atrocious, putrid stench that manages to seep into everything on the premise. Everyone in town knows not to eat anything the Wormwoods offer you; else you’ll get a mouthful of Odeur de Poulet. Naturally, the Wormwood’s don’t notice this though. Perhaps the family has been in the business so long that they’ve done away with their sense of smell. Or perhaps a strange hereditary defect allowed them to establish the farm. Either way, it’s certainly true that no Wormwood can detect a scent, on their farm or elsewhere. You could wave a fresh apple pie, a bar of chocolate, a fish or a clove of garlic right under their nose, and they wouldn’t smell a thing. As a side effect of not being able to smell, they also have little to no sense of taste, explaining why everyone except a Wormwood could detect the lingering essence of chicken mess in whatever meal was prepared on the farm.

You’d think that with such an awful smelling place nearby, the village of would’ve driven the Wormwood’s off with pitchforks long ago. However, that was not the case. The Wormwoods had wisely built the farm downwind of Flatrend, and the gusts that blew through the prairie town kept the smell at bay. On top of that, the Wormwoods were kind folk, and well respected in town. Not to mention they were the wealthiest family in town. Mothers in Flatrend would, starting from an early age, force their children to sit for hours at a time, smelling some rancid fish or milk as training so the child would be able to tolerate the smell should he or she be fancied by a Wormwood son or daughter.

And so, it is on this foul-smelling farm, and under this red roof, that Eleanor Wormwood was born and raised. Little Ellie lived her whole life on this farm with her mother, father, and three brothers. Her mother was Tamera Wormwood, formerly Tamera Pines. Tammy was a slightly portly and stern looking woman, who always brought pies to the village’s quilting circle that no one ever dared eat. The man of the house was Rolf Wormwood, who worked the farm under unusual circumstances. You see, Rolf was the fifth and last brother of his generation, and wasn’t supposed to inherit the farm. It was supposed to go to his oldest brother Whit. However, Whit died in an unfortunate accident that ended with him being crushed under a statue that was meant for the top of the town hall. Then it was supposed to go to Polly, but Polly wasn’t the most reliable sort. He met his end near the tavern with six pints of ale in his blood, and a bet involving a mule and bear. Then it went to Riley, but Riley had always dreamed of adventure. He was just about to hop out his window when the fourth brother, Tom, caught him. However, Tom, knowing that with Riley gone HE would have to take over the farm, decided a life at sea was better and set off for the coast with Riley. No one has heard from them since. And so the late Maggie and Jerald Wormwood had only Rolf to give their beloved farm to. Rolf had to leave his blacksmith apprenticeship in order to learn the family business, and there he was today.

Finally, there were Ellie’s older brothers, Mack, Nick, and Rick. As the names might imply, the boys are identical triplets. See, the issue of who would inherit the farm isn’t a decided matter for this generation because of this. For one thing, it hardly seems fair to give Nick the farm just because he’s a half-hour older than Mack, and Mack doesn’t deserve it any more than Rick for the same reason. For another matter, no one really knows if Mack was born as Mack, or Nick was born as Nick, or Rick as Rick. The fact is, the boys were so perfectly identical as children, that it was utterly impossible to tell them apart until they were old enough to tell you which one he was himself. Therefore, no one knows whether or not the boys ended up getting mixed up at some point and saddled with the wrong names. So although the baby called Nick was the oldest, there’s no way of knowing if the boy called Nick is really the oldest or not. It was quite the conundrum, one which the Wormwood family had never dealt with until now, and had yet to solve it in the fifteen years since the boys were born.

And then there was Ellie. She was twelve years old now as of last October, and currently working a knot out her short hair. The summer sun was just coming up over the fields, spilling in through her window on the second floor of the tower, and she would soon have to be ready to run egg deliveries around town as she did every Wednesday.

“Ellie! Breakfast!” Ellie’s mother was always a curt woman.

Ellie rushed out the door, grabbing her apron from the hook on the way out. She had just finished tying it as she reached the kitchen, where her mother was slapping scrambled eggs on plates and her two of her brothers were rushing in from the other rooms. Her father was already scraping up the last of his meal with toast.

When you have no sense of taste, eating becomes more of a chore than anything else. And that’s the way the Wormwood family treated it. There’s no point to having variety if you can’t taste it, so it was scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast every single day simply because they’re easy to make.

As Ellie sat down to eat, her two brothers started to chatter about what they’d do with their afternoons. After daily chores, which rotated daily, the Wormwoods usually had a few hours of downtime.

“I’m going down to the square to play jacks with Hannah and Greg.”

“I’m gonna go to the school. I heard some adventurer agreed to tell stories ‘round then.” Which one said which, Ellie didn’t care. She was brooding over the fact that her chore, egg deliveries, would take the majority of the day with how stubborn and slow old Bertha, the farm’s only mule, was.

After finally pushing down the last of her bland meal, Ellie cleaned her dishes and left, announcing it as she did. Her mother, now nestled in a rocking chair and working on her latest quilt, told her to “Make it quick. The egg’ll rot in this heat.” The two brothers were already going about the sweeping and dish drying, so they acknowledge her leaving.

Ellie hadn’t taken three steps out when the brother who was late for breakfast came bolting past her after some chicken that got loose. That must be Nick, Ellie thought. Nick always lets the chickens out. And Ellie went to the small barn on the side of the house and dragged out old Bertha. The mule looked a little like a very worn out sock and dragged her feet with every step. After Ellie finished the task of getting Bertha tacked up and loading the eggs into the cart, she set out for the day.

The town of Flatrend was an average little village, much like any other in the North Valley. It had one wide road going straight through it, one heading toward the capital and the other toward The Bridge, and little side roads that lead to houses and small shops. It was settled in a wide open plain, where the tops of trees were just visible in the distance at Wormwood farm. There was little shade on the road as Ellie and Bertha plodded into town, both sweating profusely. Luckily for Ellie, there were only three stops on this trip. The trouble was, they were far apart.

The first stop was the market, where the general public purchased their eggs. This was the easiest shop to get to, as it was built when the town was founded and was butted right up against the road. All Ellie had to do was knock on the door and ask the clerk boy to unpack their order. The second stop, the baker’s, was for more tedious. The Baker was an elderly lady who was somehow too feeble to safely carry a crate of eggs, but fit enough to do all that baking. And worst of all, the bakery was built after the main road and buildings, and was tucked into a side street, so Ellie had to lug the heavy crate to the end of the alley without breaking any of the eggs. This was the part she always dreaded the most.

However, the final stop, in her opinion, made it all worthwhile. The final shop was Nancy’s Herbs and Home Remedies, located at the other end of town. It was an odd little shop that had been around as long as Ellie could remember, but her parents told her that it suddenly cropped up one night when they were in their teens. Her parents, as well as most of the other adults in Flatrend, disliked the little shop and its enigmatic owner. However, Ellie, like most of the children in town, found the mysteries of the shop fascinating.

The shop was small. At least, it seemed that way with how cramped it was. It was a square room with a long, low counter at the back that was littered with mortars and pestles, beakers and stirring spoons. Every wall was crammed to the ceiling with shelves holding bottles and baskets of different shapes and sizes that were filled with odd plants, herbs, and strange colored liquids of varying viscosity. Despite the fact that the shelves were full, the shop simply had too many items, and the larger merchandise had to be placed on small tables that were scattered about the floor. These tables were piled high with strange flowers, bags of dirt from different parts of the world, books with drawings of plants and their uses, and other such things. But even the floor wasn’t enough to hold everything. All throughout the shop, little glass bottles with big holes in them dangled from the ceiling, each housing a tiny odd plant and making the path to the counter quite treacherous for customers.

Ellie was always glad to visit Nancy’s shop. Not only was it interesting, but it always ordered a few eggs. It was easier to carry this order than the baker’s, that was for sure. However, Ellie’s favorite part about the shop was Nancy herself.

Nancy was the strangest woman anyone in Flatrend had ever laid eyes on, although she wasn’t very pretty to look at. She was appallingly tall; almost six foot, and was thin as a sapling. Her pale skin stretched over her bones with almost nothing in between them, giving her a skeletal look. She had limp brown hair that was a little too thin, and her lips were so narrow they looked like a gouge in her face. But despite her lack of beauty, there was no doubt that there was kindness in her huge, sunken brown eyes. As Ellie entered the shop, Nancy stopped tending to a flower and flitted over to her, her long dress hiding her steps and giving her the appearance of a banshee floating weightlessly over the floorboards.

She stopped to tower over Ellie, “Oh good! You’re just in time. I was just about to need those.” Her voice was a bit like leaves crackling in a gust.

She took the two dozen eggs from Ellie and rushed behind the counter, disappearing behind the heavy curtains that covered the back room. Ellie had never been to the back room and would love to know what went on in there. But some weeks ago, when she asked for a tour, Nancy had smiled and said “Trade secrets, I’m afraid. And it’s where I keep some more dangerous items. It wouldn’t do to have you get sick from being too close to toxins, would it?” And that was the end of that matter.

Now Nancy came gliding back through the curtains, her leather coin purse in hand. She dug out the coins with her bony fingers and dropped her payment in Ellie’s palm. “There we go. You’re earlier than usual today Ellie. Is Bertha feeling chipper today?”

Ellie nodded, “I guess she must be. She hardly fought me at all.” Ellie had to tilt her head up at a ninety-degree angle to look Nancy in the eye. Most everyone did.

“Do you have any plans for this afternoon?”

“No, I didn’t expect to be free this early.” Ellie glanced out the window, spotting Bertha try to snatch an apple from a passerby.

“Then perhaps you’d be willing to help me out?” Nancy clasped her hands together in a plea-full gesture.

“What do you mean?”

“One moment.” Nancy went over to a table in the corner of the room and brought back a small pot with mushrooms growing out of it. “This is a special mushroom. I dry them out and grind them up for pastes that help with bruises. Trouble is, they grow so slowly and I need them often, so I can’t rely on just one to grow everything I need. They grow around here, so I’d pay you quite a bit if you could save me the trouble of going out and digging them up myself.”

Ellie stared at the broad and waxy, pale pink cap of the mushroom, “You want me to go mushroom hunting? I thought mushrooms usually cropped up in fall?”

“They do,” nodded Nancy, “but these like the summer heat. I’ll tell you what; if you can find some for me, I’ll pay you fifty shillings a cap-”

“FIFTY EACH?!”

“-and you can do with that money what you like, ‘cause you’ll have earned it. Just make sure you get home by dark or your mother will storm in here and bite my head off.”

This seemed like a wonderful deal to Ellie. She now had something to do until dinner time, and fifty shillings alone was four times the amount her mother would give her for fun in a month. “It’s a deal!”

Nancy chuckled, “Good. Now, you’ll probably find them near tree bases. You might also find ones that look similar, but remember; light pink, broad cap, thin stalk. Also, don’t just pluck them up, dig down a bit to get a chunk of the roots. I’d like to plant these, and plucking does no good. Can you remember that?”

Ellie nodded excitedly, “Yes, pink big and skinny, I’ve got it. Oh, these aren’t poisonous, are they?”

“No, these are ok to touch. Just don’t touch any other mushrooms you might find.”

“Alright then, I’ll go find a hundred of them!” Ellie ran out the door, leaving the tall woman in the shop. Ellie left Bertha by the shop, assuming she’d come back to get her before dinner.

And so she zipped right into the field that started on the other side of the road, hoping that some of her prizes would be under the few trees that sprung up from it. She would later find that there were none in the field, and so she would then try in the dense forest that ringed the field and Flatrend.

Ellie wasn’t worried about going into the forest alone. All the bears and wolves in these parts had long since left for less populated places in the forest, so it was quite safe. Even the adults of Flatrend weren’t worried about letting their children play there when the weather was fair, as it was today. Yes, it was a perfectly safe place, and Ellie spent her day looking for mushrooms under rocks and by small creeks.

……………………

……………………

It was a lovely evening on the small farm of Barclay. Now Barclay farm was very different from Wormwood farm. The Barclay’s were an elderly couple with only the energy to care for a small vegetable garden that they fed themselves with. It had once been a very big and busy farm, but without any children to inherit it, the Barclay’s knew it would fall into ruin when they passed.

The huge field that used to be covered with crops was now covered in rocks and debris that blew in during storms. Harold Barclay and their last living ox, Hoss, were no longer fit enough to clear it. The stars were shining brightly and the full moon was out tonight. Owls hooted in the distant trees of the forest and crickets chirped madly in the summer heat.

Hagis, the farm’s watchdog, was anxious. He was always anxious, for some reason. The old dog would set off yapping and howling if the breeze tickled his whiskers too hard, so the Barclay’s would tie him up outside and ignore his paranoid calls.

But tonight, Haggis was quite still. A buzzing had started. It was faint, and he stood at attention, clearly not knowing which direction he should be barking at. There was also the faint smell of thunder, as though a rainstorm was just over the treetops. The buzzing got louder.

Now you could tell that it was happening at the other end of the farm, near the edge of the woods and the unused fields. The buzzing turned into a loud humming.

Hagis started to bark now. He yelped and howled louder than he ever had in his life, but Harold and Marie Barclay slept on, far too used to Haggis’ high pitched calls for this to wake them.

There was a sudden light. It appeared with a rip, like a knife cutting through fabric. It was a pale blue slash, long as a finger, thin and straight as an arrow. A popping and crackling sound had joined the humming, louder than ever. The smell of lightning was overpowering now.

Then there more slashes. They crisscrossed over each other in symbols, appearing in a circle until there was a ring of small blue cuts in the air. They sizzled like something hot enough to sear. Haggis had run his throat hoarse. He sat and whimpered and growled at the strange thing at the other end of the farm.

So, I just started this whole Tumblr thing because I started writing a story and heard that Tumblr was another good way to get your story seen. Because I’m new to Tumblr though, I don’t really know how to post an entire book. So while I figure that out, I guess I’ll leave the link to the story on Tapas here:https://tapas.io/series/A-Witchs-Tail 

I’ll see if I can start posting the storie’s chapters in a bit.