#handheldtiny

Gritting his teeth, Garrick tore his eyes away from the slitted eyes of the splasher and tugged his hook free from the zipper securing him to the human. The uneven steps threatened to throw him off balance, but he was as sure footed as they came and spun on his heel, foot grinding into the coarse fabric of the pack and jumped. 

Launched forward and to the side, he threw his hook and tugged it taut as it caught the brim of the hat. Suspended in mid-air only for a moment, Garrick glanced over his shoulder and glimpsed the vacant features of the human currently ensnared by the creature. The Borrower’s heart seized as he passed directly in front of the human’s face, knowing full well he was in their direct line of sight; at least, he would be if they weren’t completely at the mercy of the creature luring them into the water. 

Not now! Just swipe and jump. Get away. Drop in the water once the eyes are clear. 

Garrick saw the odd yellow-green cloud over the human’s eyes and knew this was his one shot. Just as he swung back from the momentum of his leap forward, his feet planted on the human’s cheek while the rest of his body lunged forward on the line. Garrick swiped wildly as his heart pounded continuously like a war drum warning him away from his current circumstance. 

Missed. 

The leaves barely left a draft on the human’s forehead. 

Come on! 

Garrick could see the human was up to their waist now. Dark tendrils were starting to snake down by their ankles. He was nearly out of time. He threw himself backward and forward again. With his momentum, he lunged forward once more, practically throwing himself toward the human’s face. 

This time, he snagged a handful of the human’s hair, which lined their face in short cut bangs, and grasped the bridge of their nose between his knees, rope tucked under his armpit. Leaves tight in his hand, he pressed his full weight into the leaves and dragged it across the human’s forehead. The smear of blood and oil from the mint leaf created an uneven arc as Garrick’s arm swiped across his body. 

Time slowed for that brief moment. Garrick looked over the top of his leg as he remained perched awkwardly on the human’s nose at the human’s enormous eye. The glaze cleared, the yellow-green fading like the colors of dawn from the early morning, and was followed by one slow blink and then several rapid ones. The brow Garrick was currently stabilized on furrowed and the nose scrunched, nearly bucking him off of the appendage. 

A guttural sucking sound raised the hair on Garrick’s neck as an audible splash disturbed the water behind him. The tendrils retracted, the creature retreating into the murky depths, leaving defeated and hungry as it rightfully should. Garrick exhaled audibly, tension in his shoulders releasing, and reached backward into his pack to pull out some cattail fluff just for good measure when the consequences of his actions literally stared him in the face. There was little doubt that the human was no longer under the spell of the splasher, and that put him in a precarious position as he was literally perched on the human’s nose. 

Eyes blown wide open and crossed to stare directly at him, Garrick imagined he and the human shared the same expression - mouths agape and rigidity returning to their bodies as each stared into the others’ eyes to the best of their abilities. All thought vaporized. Instinct abandoned him as the Borrower felt entranced by immense blue-green eyes. 

He’d encountered many beasts and creatures, but only in this moment did Garrick fully realize the gravity of what he’d done. 

“Wha-.... UGH!” The human flinched and began backing out of the water, threatening to knock Garrick loose. 

Shoot! Move, you idiot! 

Garrick’s muscles pulled taut like that of a bow as he fumbled the rope and threw himself backward, pushing off of the human’s cheeks by the base of their nose. Recognition dawned on the human’s features as Garrick was now sure he was in clear, unblurred view. His legs snaked around the line and he began to slide down. Each motion was planned and calculated. Sliding down the rope. Flipping into the water. Diving down into the murk so the human couldn’t find him. Making his way through the cattails and vanishing into the forest as the human scoured the ground for him. 

He made it three inches down the line as the momentum carried him back away from the human’s face only to crash into an outstretched hand. 

The fingers crested into his peripheral vision. His spine collided and fit into the crevasse of the human’s palm. No sound escaped. Not even a gasp of surprise eeked out of him. It all happened too fast. Like the snap of a mousetrap, the fingers closed around Garrick’s body, instantly restraining him. Arms pinned to his front as he continued to cling to the rope and face currently smashed by the pad of a finger, the Borrower realized in that lightning fast moment that he’d been caught by the one thing he was actually terrified of out here. 

The only thing free was his feet, which he attempted to maneuver into kicking the base of the human’s palm. He only managed to struggle feebly while the hand that contained him whirled around, churning his stomach worse than a free fall from a tall branch in a tree. The sound of the human wading through the water was the least of his concerns, but try as he might, Garrick couldn’t wiggle free. The sploosh of the water turned into sopping steps, the squelch of the moist banks giving way under the human’s feet. His heart beat fervently as he steeled himself. 

Calm down. 

Breathe. 

It felt impossible with the pad of the human’s finger nearly smothering him. The heat of the hand around him was sweltering. The unfair size of the human appendage flexed imperceptibly for a human, but sent Garrick’s mind reeling. 

Oh F-! They’re going to crush me! This is it. I knew better. I knew better and I did it anyway. What was I thinking?! 

The hand relaxed as the human jostled around. Garrick couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on in the human’s mind as he was held aloft. 

Calm down. You need to get out of here. You can do this. It’s just a human… just… a human. I’ve faced scarier. I’ve seen worse! But… have I? No. Don’t think about that right now. I can get out of this. I just have to clear my mind. Focus on the task at hand. Focus on getting away, whatever it takes. 

His mantra flooded his thoughts. 

What is mine stays with me. What is not, passes by me. Hear the truth, not the echo. If the forest calls, I do not answer. If the forest calls, I do not answer. Listen to the wind, not the whispers.

His struggles calmed. Garrick forced muffled breath after muffled breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. The moment he could see, he’d be able to make a better plan. Until then, resistance and effort was futile. He relaxed, body practically falling limp as he embraced the unknown. 

The Borrower didn’t fight or dare move as the fingers flexed again, the sounds of the squelching now becoming more subtle. Garrick resisted the urge to flinch as he felt something prod at his exposed feet. He didn’t even fight as the rope in his hands was tugged free as he remained constricted within those fleshy columns that dwarfed him. 

You’ve been seen. You’re caught. Might as well go for the trifecta, especially if it gets me out of this. 

There was an immense jostling followed by something that sounded like a nervous exhalation. 

That’s the sound of bracing if I’ve ever heard one. Garrick calmed his breathing and steeled himself, taking his own breath to brace what was about to happen. 

The top three fingers eased their grasp on his body, keeping his legs locked in place, unfurling like a morning glory, timid and slow. Based on his position, he knew he had been laid on his back or in somewhat of a horizontal position. The mix of cold shadow and bright light told him they were in a shaded area, but they hadn’t gone far from the edge of the water. The Borrower had mere moments to acclimate to his new surroundings now that he’d been carried to someplace new. Eyes squinted shut. One breath. 

Open.

Garrick opened his eyes, jaw stiffened, as his vision was nearly consumed by the features of the human. It took all his willpower to tear his eyes away from those blue-green eyes that could’ve held him in place with a glance. Eyes darting away, Garrick felt a spark of ease. He recognized the canopy of trees and the scent that lingered of moss and stagnant water. There were some hollows nearby he’d used to hide in seasons passed which he could use again if he could make it to the ground. 

The movement of the human’s other hand caught his attention. Much like how a cat would pick up the slightest movement from a flittering bird or stealthed mouse, the Borrower’s innate apprehension to human hands locked onto the human’s free hand lifting up by his midsection before freezing and quickly retracting to cover her mouth. 

Her. She… oh great. 

Garrick could see it clearly now that the hat was off of her head. The cut of the hair. The softer features no longer consumed with vacancy inflicted by some creature. The subtle bumps across her chest no longer hidden beneath the backpack straps. He’d been warned all his life about humans, young boys to be precise, but he’d always thought that girls, specifically young adult women, were far more dangerous. They were prone to sensitivities and maternal instincts; and that went for his kind as well as humans. 

Now knowing he was in the clutches of one gave the Borrower no comfort. 

Her mouth began moving, and immediately Garrick felt himself bristling.

“Hey… hey there… little guy.” The woman’s voice admittedly was soft and not shattering his eardrums, but in that curious, cooing tone. The initial panic nearly vaporized entirely while Garrick stared into the woman’s features and was replaced with mild annoyance. 

Why is she talking to me like a child? I’m pretty sure I’m older than her. 

His exhale came out in an irritated puff and, as weird as the sensation was to place his hands onto hers, he pushed himself upright now that it was only his legs being restrained. Looking up into her features, Garrick felt his fear subsiding. The thought of all the creatures and monsters he’d faced being ten times more intimidating than this woman crossed his mind, and he realized his terror came not from the human, but the simple fact that humans didn’t follow the same rules as the monsters he’d studied for most of his life. 

Garrick knew how to fight, ward, and avoid everything in these woods except for humans, hence their power over him. 

Calm down. Why’re you freaking out? I’ve faced worse, and they couldn’t understand me. This one can. I can’t talk to the others. If she’s smart, she’ll listen and that’ll be that. Worst case… well… I doubt she’s got anything in that bag that can keep me contained for long. 

I can do this. 

“What… no…. W-who… are you?” she asked cautiously. Her hand flexed slightly while lifting him up to be more eye-level with her. 

Garrick, taking the gamble of a lifetime, met her gaze with determined defiance as he wriggled and failed to pull his legs free from her encompassing grip. 

“Someone who just saved your enormous hide. Now, would you mind letting me go? I’m not a stress ball, doll, toy, or pet and I don’t like being coddled like one.” He hoped the human wouldn’t lash out, but recognized that he was still in a precarious situation. That said, he was never one to sugar coat anything and wasn’t about to rearrange who he was just because he was in a pinch. If something bad was going to happen, he was going out as himself. 

He’d made that decision a long time ago. 

He instantly picked up on the surprise and mild offence in the woman’s expression as she looked at him incredulously. Her jaw slackened, fingers loosened ever so slightly but didn’t relinquish their grip on his legs. To emphasize his point, Garrick tugged at his legs again in a vain attempt to free himself. 

“I… excuse me?” she asked. 

“You heard me. Let. Me. Go. I’ll even say please as a courtesy. You humans like that sort of thing.” Garrick’s heart would’ve given away his nervousness if this human could see the way it was pounding faster and faster like some kind of fleeing animal. He was barely able to keep his voice forceful and level. The human, to his dismay, ignored his demand as her eyes inventoried his body, examining him as if to memorize every detail. 

“You… talk,” she breathed. “And you’re so… human.” 

Garrick rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure it looks like that to you, now will you please…”

“How’d you get out here?” she interrupted. Garrick thought for a moment that she might be in some kind of trance still, but she wasn’t exhibiting any other symptoms - meaning this was just a human being a human. Frustrated, Garrick reached up and began rubbing his temples, mouth open to speak, when the girl shook her head as if to shake away a thought, looked around the forest where she’d leaned against a nearby tree, and she continued. “I… uh… sorry. Wait. Why… why were you on my face? And why was I in the water? Did… did you do that?” 

Garrick let the silence sit while looking up into her curious features, hands still pressed against his temples, as he asked. “Oh, you’re talking to me now? Listening to what I have to say?”

“Okay, okay. No need to get snarky. I…” the woman began to retort. 

“Really? That’s a relief,” scoffed Garrick, interrupting her. “If you’re listening to me, then have the decency to honor my request and let… me… go.” 

The woman’s jaw clenched defiantly, and Garrick swore he felt her fingers tighten around his legs. Still, he held firm and didn’t dare to break his gaze away. Silence embracing them as each stared down the other, it was the woman who broke first. 

“How do I know you’re not just going to run off?” she asked skeptically. 

“You don’t, and it is not up to you whether I stay or go,” stated Garrick. 

She stared at the little man in her hand, who couldn’t’ve been taller than four or so inches, and considered her options. 

She remembered the woods, but not the ones that were around her. She remembered walking with the others through the trees when she broke line of sight with them, hearing something. Something distant? Something close? A doorway? A set of stairs? 

The whole thing was a blur. 

The only thing she really remembered clearly was this tiny man perched on the bridge of her nose before slipping off and falling. She’d caught him and found herself in water. Now he seemed annoyed and not the least bit grateful. 

Who was he? 

Where did he come from? 

Now thinking about the paths before her, she had a decision to make. 

This little guy could maybe handle himself; but also how could he? He was so small. It was too dangerous to have him running around, and she had an empty section in her bag where he could cool off and be safe. 

She could also guarantee this little guy wouldn’t run away. She wanted - needed - answers. Even if he was a snarky, sarcastic thorn, he seemed to be aware and knowledgeable. She had some string and could easily slip it around his ankles or midsection. She had him pinned, and what could he really do? He certainly didn’t seem trustworthy and was obviously eager to flee. 

Or she could listen to him and hope beyond hope that he didn’t vanish into the forest and that he actually stayed not only to answer her questions, but also to help. She was out here for a reason, and she wasn’t leaving - couldn’t leave - without finding the answers. 

| ~ What should she do? ~ |

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He pressed his back against the tree, aligning the ridges and grooves of the bark with his spine, eyes closed and head bowed as if praying. In a way, he was. 

“Hear the truth, not the echo. If the forest calls, I do not answer.”

He kept his words barely above a breath. Talking to this thing - this creature - would be the end of him. Looking at it would only lure him in. Tempt him. Try to ensnare him. That wasn’t the real danger - it was talking to it. This one was different than the others. Not unique, but different. 

Garrick learned that a long time ago. 

You could talk to yourself to keep your sanity. You could talk to a friend if one was nearby to distract from the magnetic draw of this thing. Above all else and to keep yourself safe, you couldn’t speak directly to it. He’d seen too many get snarfed up in one bite, drawn by the darkness and call of loved ones long dead. 

So, he kept his eyes closed as the scrapes inched closer, this thing flexing its fingers as if attempting to pet the tree with just its fingertips, as the whispers began. 

Are you there? 

Can you hear me?

I’m lost.

I’m lost.

I’m llooossstttt. 

Breathy. 

Drawn out. 

Three tones three different times. 

Young. 

Old. 

Male.

Female. 

He’d heard all of these voices at one point or another in his life. 

Still, he continued to mumble to himself, head down and eyes closed. 

“If the forest calls, I do not answer. Listen to the wind, not the whispers.”

Garrick inhaled silently, eyes still shut, as the scent hit him. A gut churning scent of decay and deep earth that lingered in the air like morning smog. The repulsion built acid in the back of his throat. It was worse than before, meaning the thing was hungry. The worse the smell, the longer it had gone without feeding, the last meal actively rotting in its teeth unreplenished with fresh flesh and blood. The thing’s hot breath radiated from its throat as it lowered itself to Garrick’s level. In his mind, he could see its skeletal jaw scraping the forest floor as it inched toward him. 

Hhheeelllpppp… 

Pppplleeaasssee…

The curling whispers pleaded with him, but he started again with his phrases. It was the only thing he could do as he scraped his back against the bark of the tree. 

“What is mine stays with me. What is not, passes by me. Hear the truth, not the echo. If the forest calls, I do not answer. If the forest calls, I do not answer. Listen to the wind, not the whispers.”

Gggaaarrriiiiccckkkk! 

Garrick! 

GARRICK! 

He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. Somewhere in his head, he started reciting the rules of the woods. It was the only thing he could do. It only registered halfway through the third one. 

“-thing you think is out there is. Rule four. If you hear your name, you don’t. Look away. Walk away. Don’t talk to it. Don’t follow it. Don’t let it know you know. Rule five. Some things are harmless until they’re not. Learn quickly which is which. Rule six. You have to look after yourself. Tell the others if you find them. Warn anyone you come across. Rule seven...” 

Garrick continued through every rule even as he heard the shluff of saliva hit the ground beside him. He tensed his core, steeling himself as one hand absent mindedly reached into his side pouch for the few baneberries he’d kept while his other hand reached up and grasped the medallion around his neck, fingers tracing the sigil he’d carved into it years ago. His imagination was rampant with possibilities for what this thing was doing, but one thing he knew was that it was looking at him with one of those milky, hollow eye sockets mere inches away. 

Then, all at once, with the creaking and snap of its old bones, the thing pushed itself to its feet and staggered off into the woods. The wails and cries of the boney, necrotic mass ventured off into the woods, soon falling silent as the bipedal monstrosity vanished into the trees. 

Garrick, still tense, heaved breath after breath as silently as possible as he dared to open his left eye. The shadows were long and flickering around his miniscule campfire, obscured by his eyelashes which created an odd veil which he wasn’t unfamiliar with. With the coast clear, Garrick slumped against the tree and attempted to calm his furiously beating heart. 

With a grin and muttering just above a whisper, he said, “Rule thirty-one. Remember the Borrower rules if you make it this far.” 

Garrick had thankfully never had to employ the Borrower rules in all his years living out here in the forest. Living in the wilds naturally had its benefits as well as its drawbacks, but Garrick chose it willingly. The trees and brush constructed more of a home than brick and mortar ever could. Sure, there were visitor centers and homes nearby where many friends and family chose to live, but being out here before the cold season was liberating in a way that few Borrowers enjoyed. The outdoors offered a kind of peace he’d never found by lamp light scurrying among the rafters or under the musty floorboards. The dangers were significant, yes, but he’d learned how to contend with these monstrosities. 

Humans had names for things like these. Creep-ids? Or something like that. 

It didn’t matter to Garrick what the humans called these things. All he really knew was they all were real, and he knew how to protect himself against them; at least, most of them. It was part of his curiosity - his drive - for being out here. Learning what these things were. What they could do. Stories of humans, he’d heard, but the odd campfire spooks that struck fear into humans, old and young alike, lured him like rats to refuse. 

These things were more fascinating than anything a human could do. 

Taking out his journal, Garrick began quickly scribbling into his notebook the day and the events that transpired. He quickly sketched the thing from memories of seeing it during other encounters as well as other notes like predictions of when it last ate and the techniques it attempted to use to lure him to it. Each note he made aligned with the creature he often called, “Stalker,” though he was sure humans referred to this thing by a different name. Windy-something? Endigoon? 

“Doesn’t matter,” Garrick muttered to himself as he finished his sketch and his notes. Before having a spot of dinner and sliding into his makeshift tent, he made sure to wipe off his hands from the potential contamination of the baneberry. The last thing he wanted was to get violently ill when he was in need of rations. 

Satisfied, he flipped through his notes, dried meat in his cheek, and made notes of the frequency of seeing his windy-stalker in recent months. The trend was clear - the numbers were increasing. It was a familiar pattern. Migration like. It corresponded with the cold seasons. 

They were coming back from… wherever they came from. Beyond the forest. Beyond the waters. Whatever was north. It was beyond Garrick, but what wasn’t beyond him was a comfortable night’s rest. 

He examined the other notes he’d left about other sightings he’d seen. The odd stairs. The Hiders. Flippers. Ghosts. Splashers. Humans gave them other names, but getting close enough to identify these creatures by human standards was a waste of time. It didn’t really matter to the Borrower. What did matter was the pattern. All of them were coming back from wherever they were, the only ones seemingly vacating the premises were the water-based critters. 

“Makes sense,” sighed Garrick. “Water is going to start getting cold, and they don’t like that. Or…” The Borrower thought about it for a moment. He flipped quickly to the back of his book where he often scratched random notes and, muttering while writing, scratched, “Hybernate, maybe still there?” The thought was unnerving and he fought off a shudder as he thought about the times he’d walked across the ice to common fishing spots, not knowing whether or not one of those things was directly under him. 

“Changes nothing,” he groaned as he kicked dirt over his campfire. With the fire extinguished, leaving Garrick scented with the wood he ensured had a sprinkle of sage. He curled among his leathers and furs, the scent of the wild surrounding him, as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip off into oblivion. 

This was the life of this Borrower. 

Survival.

Exploration.

Curiosities beyond what one would find in the safety of the walls or rafters or floors. 

Garrick’s life was one he deemed simple, despite the oddities that often bled into his day-to-day activities. After all, safety and survival were the main two goals, a benefit being satisfying knowledge of the unknown and learning about the undiscovered wonders of the world that most humans failed to notice and survive against when encountered. 

Dreamlessness embraced the Borrower, and daybreak came too swiftly, bringing with it the activities of the day. Garrick, stretching from under the furs, gazed up at the illuminating sky, the colors streaking across like a watercolor on a canvas, pale and pure. A bit of dew coated the underside of the ferns nearby and the lingering scent the wendy-thing left behind had thankfully dulled. 

I have to filter out some water. I need to do some hunting too. Maybe fishing? Down by the water? Two minnows, one spear? Sure. Sounds alright to me. Need some more cedar too if possible. Maybe mint. That’s sometimes by the water. A bit far, but worth it. Cattails too. Good grief. I’m out of everything. That’s what I get for just focusing on study. 

Garrick groaned to no one other than himself when he pushed himself upright and began the work of the day that he’d known for twenty years. 

Get up.

Find something to eat. 

Drink - if safe. 

Hunt. 

Make notes. 

Don’t get eaten. 

Collect herbs and other low supplies. 

Just another day in the life of an Outie Borrower. 

Garrick, pack secured on his back, began trudging his way down to the water where he’d remembered seeing the supplies he required. His feet made quick work of the moistened roots and knotted branches. Each bound over softened moss was as quick and quiet as a whisper, leaving behind no trace. Nothing but the sounds of the wild, crickets and birds and other odd skittering things, filled the air. 

Weird. Garrick thought as he slowed his run to a light jog, stopping at the first sign the ground was beginning to moisten. Usually I see the stairs or one of the flippers around. It’s where they usually are. Did they decide to move? Alerted, he traversed cautiously toward his quarry, a few long mint stalks that were nestled in the shallow muck. Out of the dozen or so leaves, seven made their way into his bag with a careful pinch, twist, and tuck into the side satchel. 

The Borrower leapt and hooked his spare paperclip onto the roots as he swung from root wad to root wad until he spotted the tall stalks of the cattails he had been hunting. As he stepped up onto one of the roots, however, something caught his attention that chilled him to the bone. Immediately, he crouched low among the roots he was perched on, instincts warning him away from his natural adversary. 

A human. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a human. It wasn’t the first time they’d ventured this far and he’d gone unnoticed. It was still unnerving seeing them though. Features so similar to his own, yet proportionally immense by comparison. From his vantage point, he could only glimpse vague features of the human. Long-ish hair pulled back into a tail-thing. Basing ball hat or whatever they called it. Backpack. Outdoorsy clothing? But nothing to note camouflage. Not tall, but then again who wasn’t when it came to humans and Borrowers. 

I need to get out of this spot if they’re going to be… 

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as the lapping waves against the banks of the bay caught his attention. Instinctually, he closed one eye and turned his opened eye to the water, ears intently focused on the sound of the waves. What he feared crept into being. 

Whispers. 

Not just any kind of whispers either. 

“A lure.” Garrick scanned the water, eye locking onto the creature he was all too familiar with. It had another name according to the humans, but he just called it a splasher because it was often the last thing he saw of the thing it happened to have caught in its sights. Pure instinct moved his hand to his side satchel as he tore off a piece of mint leaf, jabbed his hand against his emergency thorn, wiped the blood onto the leaf, and rubbed the bloodied leaf against his forehead, eye looking back to the human as he watched their movements closely. 

He was surprised he missed the signs when he first saw the human. 

Staggering walk. 

Vacant expression. 

As noisy as a human could be if not louder. 

Garrick couldn’t tear his eye away from the human as they continued to stumble toward the water. Tradition dictated that he run away. He could practically hear his predecessors screaming at him from beyond and the visitors centers at the edge of the woods for him to run away. Stay hidden. Don’t meddle with things that don’t directly concern you. Still, he stayed locked in place. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t look away, but he found himself muttering encouragements with each step the human advanced toward the water. 

“Come ooonnn.” Garrick urged quietly. “Move through the cattails. It’ll distract it. Just move through them.” 

The human didn’t. 

Step.

Step.

Step. 

The person was nearly at the water’s edge. 

“Come on!” Garrick urged. 

Step. 

Step. 

Garrick held his breath as he watched like some silent specter. It was agonizing. He’d seen things like this happen before, but it was always in the dead of night when the human was asleep. He’d never confess it, but he’d gone out on a limb, sometimes literally, for a human before, venturing into their camps and spreading sage or cedar or mint around to keep those things creeping in the night away from their intended prey. 

Never was it in daylight. 

Never was it when he could be seen. 

Desperate, he watched the human as he struggled with what to do. 

“Come on! Please…”

Step. 

Step. 

The person’s shoes were practically at the edge of the water. Each pound of Garrick’s thumping heart seemed to slow with each passing beat. He’d seen what became of living things when entering at the splasher’s call. He’d heard their cries - the panic. The moments before when he was forced to witness the end of another life as gnargled, moss woven teeth pulled their quarry under the water to the roots beneath. 

Everything slowed. 

His decision was made. 

Nothing - not even a human - deserved to die like this. 

Against every instinct he possessed, Garrick used the roots beneath to spring forward as he ran along the banks beside the cattails, throwing his body desperately against them in the hopes that motion alone would be enough to break the splasher’s concentration. Knowing he was protected, he opened his other eye and looked to the water to see if his distraction was working. 

No such luck. 

The human still stepped forward, shoes now beginning to enter the water. 

“Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot!” 

What on earth are you thinking?! 

The Borrower pulled out his hooks and, now directly behind the human as they made it one step into the water, threw his hook with all of his might. There was a moment where he braced himself, cursing his own stupidity, as his hook latched onto the human’s backpack. Yanked off of the ground with incredible speed, Garrick scrambled up the line with the momentum he gained from the jolt of his line. 

He grunted as he hoisted himself up onto the backpack as he heard the human’s footsteps breaking the water, now past the ankles and approaching the knees with a single step. Each move jostled the entire pack he was on, making him grab desperately onto the zippers beside him. The human was up to their knees. 

Garrick didn’t waste any time. He scrambled up onto the human’s shoulder, snagging a handful of hair to keep from toppling off, as he caught the slits of the creature’s eyes peering at him from what felt like feet away. 

Not good! Not good! 

His hand flew into his bag as he ripped another piece of mint and dug it into his bloodied scratch from earlier, realizing now there was a choice to be had. 

Rubbing this on the human’s neck where he was currently might work. It would break the splasher’s concentrated hold, but it would be up to the human to resist continuing into the water. It would mean he’d have a chance to get away though. 

Or, alternatively, he could free the human by jumping onto their head and rubbing the mixture on their forehead, breaking the splasher’s hold entirely, but there was no getting around it - he would be seen. 

| ~ What should Garrick do? ~ |

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The sun on the horizon began to slowly illuminate the sky in golds and pinks that he often saw in the springtime flowers. Galen knew he needed to return soon, but wanted just another minute to seek out anything he might’ve overlooked in treks past. He balanced on logs past the trails and over the two smaller gullies he’d found when he was just a boy. 

As he walked, his eyes wandered in between the gaps of the trees as he glimpsed the warding stones. Like soldiers in vigil, the stones stood at the border of their town, protecting them from the shadows and evils that once haunted them. It wasn’t too long ago when monsters hunted the humans of his town and the towns of the lands beyond. He’d grown up with the stories of these creatures and what happened when they ravaged the land and those who walked upon it. 

Thankfully, Galen had never known a time when the Colossus hadn’t been protectors of the land. He shuddered to think what kind of life he might’ve known if those arcane giants hadn’t torn through the veil of their own world to come here, declaring themselves guardians of the humans as they beat back the monstrosities. 

Nothing is free though. Their protection for The Choosing. 

He wasn’t sure when, but Galen found himself standing at the base of one of those tall warding stones. The faint green-gray glow of the stones was a gentle reminder of that continued protection - the continued rule - over the domain. The stones, to him, always seemed to have strange, hollow faces, and he stared into them now as he wondered what events would unfold during The Choosing come the next day. 

Galen sighed and turned to leave when something caught his eye that made his eyes gleam excitedly. There, by the base of the stone at the border, were two plants well-known to him - emberleaf and silverroot, both rare and only found beyond the border in the Fields of Ar’Noir because they could only grow where beast’s blood had been spilled. Approaching these plants as if they were timid creatures, he knelt and quietly harvested the plants, tenderly wrapping the roots and still living plants in a cloth he dampened with his waterskin, silently hoping he could manage a successful relocation of these precarious plants. He looked out to the shadows beyond and, for a moment, swore he saw some hulking figure looking back at him, leaving him with the sensation that it was time for him to go. 

Items in tow, Galen turned back to the forest and began the journey back, retracing his steps as the light of the day began to wake the world. One path led to the next and then to the next. Soon, the man found himself on the familiar herding paths that overlooked his home on North Hollow. 

The simple structure nestled among the few trees near the town and among the flowers and herbs Galen had cultivated carefully. It was a stable building held together by the beauty of vines and roots. It was a home he’d known all his life, and he intended to keep it that way. 

Galen had just managed to crest over the threshold of the home through the quieter of the two doors into the kitchen when he heard a scream rip through the herb scented air. It was a shriek he was all too familiar with, but it still raised alarm as he charged forward and ascended the ladder into the loft where his and his ward’s bunk were tucked. 

The teen shivered in her bed, curled in on her side from under the quilt he’d placed on her, as Galen crouchwalked past the low ceiling and knelt beside her, calloused hands grasping her shoulders as he gently shook her awake. 

“Lira. Lira. Sshhhh it’s okay. It’s okay.” He watched her eyes flicker open as they darted around, searching for some unseen entity that was undoubtedly an element of her torment. Her head whipped around, eyes wide as they met his, as she sat up and instinctually curled into Galen’s shoulders that dwarfed her slender frame. Her dark hair, dampened with sweat, clung to the back of her neck as she steadied her breathing, face nestled in the leathers that absorbed the scents that Galen carried with him. 

“I-it… it was awful, Galen,” she breathed. 

“Another nightmare?” he asked, feeling the nod she gave into his shoulder. He sighed and held her tighter. “They’re getting more frequent.” 

Lira pulled away from his shoulder, heart no longer pounding like some primitive wardrum, and looked up into her guardian’s calming features. She could see he had been out already gathering herbs, the chill still lingering on his leathers and on the tips of his fingers that rested on her shoulder. The images of her dream flashed in her mind, but shrugged them off as she gazed at him. 

“I know that look,” he said. “Want to talk about it?” 

She shook her head and mumbled, “No, not right now.” 

Galen nodded and smiled tenderly, the cycle a familiar one, before leaning away, resting on his haunches just beside her cot. “Want some tea?” She nodded quietly, a clear signal for him to leave her be for the present. His leg clacked into place as he descended the ladder and began heating a kettle and grinding the necessary herbs. 

He’d barely set their humble table when three heavy knocks rattled the front door. Lira’s head peeked down from the loft as Galen approached and cracked the door a few inches before, shoulders relaxing, allowed the guest to enter. 

“Morning,” greeted Tibs, a friend and neighbor to Galen, who clapped his friend on the shoulder as the door was shut behind him. 

“And to you. Here for pickup?” asked Galen, stepping back toward his kitchen a few paces away. 

“You know it, and any other brews you might have to help ward off this nasty cough going through the town,” Tibs nodded, eyes glancing about perceiving the small home. “And… uh… do you have anything that might… mask scents?” 

Confusion quirked Galen’s brow as he reached over on a shelf on the wall and began collecting bottles and vials from it, a curious look in his eyes as he looked at his friend. 

“Mask… scents? Tibs, what are you up to?” asked Galen, pouch now filled with brews and remedies he’d spent hours creating. 

Tibs’ eyes darted to the door and then momentarily up toward Lira before looking back at his friend. Galen had seen this man concoct odd stunts and puckish mischief all his life, but only now did he detect a hint of fear as he asked for clarification on this odd request. Tibs cleared his throat and leaned forward as if speaking quietly and low would keep the sound from carrying in this humble home. 

“There have been some odd things happening on the border. I’m sure you heard of it. More attacks. More creature sightings. Monsters worse than anything that’s been seen in generations,” said Tibs. “And… you know… with The Choosing tomorrow, I’m hoping…”

Galen’s chuckles cut off his friend as he shook his head disbelievingly. 

“Tibs, you know the whole scent thing with the Colossus is a myth, right?” interrupted Galen. “And yes, I have heard of the reports.” 

“You don’t believe what they’re saying? About more rifts opening? The monsters?” 

“Oh I do,” Galen acknowledged, bag hoisted in his hands as he held it out for his friend. “But I doubt anything I have would do any good. Coin on the table.” 

Tibs fished into a side pouch and placed a small bag of coins onto the table as he muttered, “You’ve been wrong before. Please?” 

Galen observed his friend skeptically, the oddness of his politeness striking him as odd, as an idea popped into his head. Holding up one finger, he rummaged through his cabinets and through the racks of drying herbs until he found the two he was looking for. He spent several minutes grinding the two together before scraping them into a spare jar he had drying by the sink. 

“Alright. No promises that this will work, but it’s something.”

“Oh, heavens bless you,” Tibs cheered. “Truly a life saver. Now, I have to get back before Reilah has my head.” He slung the pack over his shoulder and paused at the door, looking back at his friend. “Good morrow, and may fortune favor you.”

“And you,” Galen replied, knowing full well his friend referred to The Choosing. 

Once more alone with his ward, Galen sat down heavily in his chair, the stump aching subtly, as Lira joined him at the table. Her fingers wrapped around the cup filled with the freshly brewed tea, knees pressed to her chest. She looked small, smaller than Galen had seen since she first came to live with him nine years ago. 

He said nothing, knowing her quirks and that any attempt at prying would have the teen retreat despite years together. He scratched at the scruff along his jaw as Lira sipped her tea, looking up at him after nearly an hour. 

“Is it true? The monsters getting close?” 

“I’ve heard reports of such,” nodded Galen. “More than usual, but it happens sometimes.” He paused and watched her reaction keenly. Her mouth opened and closed, but she looked toward the door as another shadow appeared from beneath the door. The temptation to ask lingered like a cloud, but Galen withheld his questions to answer the door once more. 

For the next few hours, Galen attended to neighbors and friends requiring brews and bottles of herbs until the day was practically spent. Quietly, Lira assisted, keeping whatever thoughts private, until the sun sank low and the two curled into their separate bunks. Only in the quiet of night did Lira speak up.

“Galen?”

“Yes.”

“I’m… I’m worried about tomorrow.”

Galen turned toward his ward, seeing only her back as she faced the wall, as he asked, “Why?” 

“My… my dream. I saw it - the monsters… and eyes. Large, piercing eyes.”

Galen, something stirring in him, leaned over and gave Lira’s bunk a nudge. “Hey, it was just a dream. Okay? And don’t worry about tomorrow. It’s the whole town, and only a select few from that are meant to walk before The Choosing. Okay? We’re going to be alright. I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Silence was the response. 

“You believe me, right?” asked Galen. 

“Yes, always. I just…” Lira sighed. “Nevermind. Get some sleep, Galen.” 

The answer wasn’t a satisfying one, but one Galen hoped to receive clarity for in the morning. It wouldn’t be the first time Lira needed the night to contemplate her words. Keeping his eyes fixed on her as his vision grew darker, he remembered the solemn promise he’d made to his friend and repeated it as he drifted out of consciousness. 

“I’ll keep her safe. I swear it.”

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

There was also a fascination with the Colossus. Seeing their abilities. The way their magic flared and danced. Like heat-lightning in the palm of their hands, rainbows arcing across the ground in the dead of night, their abilities were unlike anything Galen had witnessed in the forest he’d grown up in all his life. Even what little he’d witnessed earlier was beyond anything he could’ve imagined was possible. 

Hoping to lend what assistance he could, Galen and the others had charged out into the forest in the Colossus’s wake, and in that quiet he found himself alone. The others had branched off, to ensure they wouldn’t miss anyone in need of help, and in doing so isolated the uneven party of apothecary in training. 

Galen moved carefully along the path, pack slung against his hip and across his back, strap biting into his shoulder where he’d nervously tightened it one too many times. Pausing in the dark, he loosened the strap with fingers that shook from nerves and the chill of the air. He felt mildly annoyed with himself, fear getting the better of him when the advanced team was far beyond where they were while searching for survivors. Besides, what good would he be if his hands were shaking and he came across someone who needed his aid. 

With his quiet chastisement, he continued his search of the undergrowth. His eyes scanned the ground, breath misting the air before him. Galen crept along the roots, ears intently tuned to the earth and fingers tracing along the ground with the subtle imprints of those that passed through the area before him. One step, and then another, and immediately he realized that something was wrong. 

He stepped carefully around the roots, keen eyes picking up untouched herbs which he quickly pocketed. Something felt odd in the air. Perhaps it was the scent. Maybe it was the scrape marks left behind. What Galen knew was the trees parted into a clearing which he found himself in the middle of, and something was telling him he wasn’t alone. 

“Hello?” he called out once, softly. His voice sounded thin, swallowed by bark and moss and the darkness of the woods. He waited. He counted his breaths, mist forming by his lips, and imagined counting being the only thing someone could do if they were alone and injured. The man held his breath and listened hard. 

Though nothing responded, what he heard was answer enough. 

*CRACK*

He told himself not to turn around. Nothing good ever came from such an action, yet he did anyway. 

He didn’t see it strike. Perhaps that’s what made it worse. Galen would never know which was better, seeing the thing as it unfolded itself from the shadows, slipping out of the trees like some silent spectre or suddenly finding himself in the thing’s mouth, wedged in the corner as it ground down onto his leg, the eye that barely clung to its socket lulling out and watching him as it attempted to swallow him whole. 

The pain shooting through his leg was indescribable. It was white hot and blinding, so sudden his body didn’t know how to scream yet. Galen was convinced it was all over, the grinding at his knee the only thing he could hear, when he suddenly hit the ground, hard. Breath gone. Hands scrabbled uselessly at the leaf‑slick earth from his blood as he attempted to crawl away. 

Pinpoint vision offered no insight into the creature or its movement, but the sudden heat of its mouth wrapped around him once more painted a clear picture. Hot, salty tears lined his cheeks. Galen momentarily saw the ridges of the thing’s mouth and attempted to kick with a limb that was no longer there as the mouth closed around him, sealing him into this moist coffin. 

Then, a rumble. The forest shook. With the teeth creating a haunting silhouette, Galen turned in time to see light split the trees. Something burst forward and wrenched the thing’s mouth open, dropping Galen onto something that wasn’t the ground. Flashes of light and the sound of further crashing barely broke through the intense ringing in the human man’s ears. 

Galen registered the movement only as the sudden absence of teeth, tongue, and then the wet heat of blood soaking through his trousers. The ground beneath him curved and warmed his back as the heat continued to drain out of his body. Galen realized the things he believed were trees were fingers as they clasped around his body and lifted him as easily as a child would a pebble. 

A Colossus. 

“Hang in there little guy,” said some voice, loud but reassuring. Hands impossibly large and careful pressed into his wound. Someone screamed, though Galen wasn’t sure if it was his own or some distant memory. Blurred features loomed over him, yet it didn’t bring panic. It brought comfort. Galen felt a tingling warmth surround his leg, glancing down in time to make out robes of teal and cream with speckles of crimson, undoubtedly from him. 

“You will live,” the Colossus said, voice low and strained. “I’m sorry I didn’t come here sooner. Hold on.” Galen nodded, though his vision was tunneling. He did not ask for more. A horn sounded—urgent, distant. Sensation and time lost meaning as he felt himself lifted, completely weightless, higher and higher. 

When Galen came too again, he woke to human hands tending to his wound, wrapping his leg in cloth fit for humans. Someone was pressing cloth to his leg. Someone else was calling his name, voice breaking. The bandages were tight, clumsy, already soaked through in places. The air smelled of smoke and sweat and fear. The first glimpse of the stump where his leg once was made the pain return. It made the loss real. It made the war against these monstrosities real. 

Days later after he’d fought for every hour of his life and regained consciousness consistently, Galen learned that some Colossus had brought him to the others and had set him down, briefly explaining his injury before returning to the fray. 

All expressed the same sentiment. 

“You’re lucky to be alive, Galen…” 

Galen… Galen! 

~~~^*^*^~~~

His name grew fainter as it was called, like hearing his name as an echo. 

“Galen?”

“Galen!” 

I know that voice… 

Lira? 

Galen pried open his eyes and, though blurry, realized Lira was at his side, hands pressed against his chest. Relief filled her youthful features, tears pricking the sides of her eyes. 

“Galen? Are you okay?” 

“Y-yeah,” he groaned. “Don’t worry. It’s just… a lot.” Galen pushed himself upright only to realize he’d been moved on top of a kind of mattress and propped up. Movement caught the apothecary’s eye, and instinctually he turned toward the one responsible - Serida. Some small cup was in her hand and a tray in the other that was clearly sized for a human. 

“Ah, Galen. I’m glad to see you’re back,” she stated politely before setting the tray nearby. The scent of chamomile tea was an inviting one, and something Galen had used for years as part of his brews to help calm and soothe nerves. 

My potions… 

The words together felt surreal, especially with the thought they belonged to anything other than the Colossus came to mind. 

“I… should apologize,” Serida said while scooting the tray closer to Galen and his ward. Her tone was genuine enough, though Galen suspected they hadn’t heard the end of the Lady Serida’s explanations. “Between my brother and myself, I have always been considered the more tactful one, yet my approach in explaining your connection to the arcane was premature. For this, I am sorry. Evidently, being Witness of the Folk and Archanist of the Unmeasured provides no insight in how to approach the subject of someone’s arcane abilities.” 

Galen shook his head, cheeks still burning slightly with embarrassment that he’d passed out, overwhelmed with information. “No, it’s… better… to be direct. It was just unexpected.” His focus turned to Lira as she remained faithfully at his side. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m alright,” Lira said, the first hint of a smile curling onto her lips since the previous day. She pulled Galen’s cloak onto her shoulders and up around her neck. In her face, Galen saw something foreign. Something hopeful. Habit brought his hand up to grasp her shoulder, acting as silent encouragement as he’d done so many times before. “I mean…” Lira continued. “It’s… nice. Good, you know? I mean, having all of these dreams for years and now finally… understanding… why.” 

Galen searched Lira’s dark eyes and could see a burning, curious light. It was a strength he’d only glimpsed and now could see in the dim light of this chamber in the house of giants. He felt something like a chuckle escape him in disbelief. 

“Well, you’re taking this better than me,” he sighed. He thought about the evidence Serida had presented and, somewhere inside him, felt a spark ignite. Perhaps it was hindsight or simply recognizing something that had been there all along, but the moments of him harvesting one herb over another and exploring areas because of a “good feeling” where he’d find rare herbs, excellently preserved for his brews and concoctions came to him in the moment. How many other instances like that had occurred that had just passed over Galen’s head? 

More importantly, what was meant to happen next. 

At some point, Lira had retrieved a cup for herself and for Galen of the chamomile tea, the three of them sipping in silence. Like holding a breath before the plunge that was clearly below, they all waited for the other to take that first step. 

This time, however, it was Lira. 

“Um… M’Lady Serida?” Her voice gained the attention of the room, Serida especially. The glass in her hand made a gentle clinking sound as it made contact with the saucer a short distance from the Lira and her guardian. With expectant eyes on her, Lira continued. “You said… your power is fading? And that you need our help?” 

“Correct.” 

“But… how? I mean… what can we do?” The question sounded as small as they felt. Here they were, two humans sitting on a desk meant for giants and who just had their concept of the arcane expanded beyond their wildest dreams, quite possibly with the fate of their kind and the Colossus at the tips of their fingers. 

At this, Serida sighed, arms folding across her chest as she paused in contemplation. “Well, for one, you two will need to begin more formal training. You need to learn how to harness your abilities; or, at the very least, allow you to tap into it reliably. Then, more challenging, we need to bring this before the other Archanists of the Unmeasured. Then, even more challenging, we will have to demonstrate you and the others are capable of fighting a war none were prepared for.” 

It took a moment for Galen to realize the faint clattering sound was coming from his shaking hands and the cup and saucer he was grasping. He swallowed dryly and took a nervous sip, draining what little tea remained in his cup, before placing it onto the tray. 

“And… you think we can do it? Harness this… power we apparently have?” asked Galen. The look in the Colossus’s eyes alone revealed her determination. 

“Only one way to find out.”

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Realizing how it sounded and noticing Lira looking up at him, features beginning to sink in guilt and deep pain. She looked heartbroken, borderline betrayed and in pain. “I mean, she is… but… she isn’t. Her father was my best friend. I took her in after he passed. So, she is my daughter… now.” Heart racing, Galen found himself sinking to his knees, Lira inching forward and curling into him as she’d done all her life, obviously relieved. 

This, however, gave Serida pause. Realization blended with curiosity. 

“So, you’re unrelated?” asked Serida, brow quirked in surprise. 

“Yes, M’Lady.” Galen, arm around Lira, absent mindedly began pinching his left arm again, wincing at the already bruised area he’d created the day before in desperation to wake from this strange dream. The woman hummed, surprised, before returning her attention to her journal, scratching with the quill some altered version of what she’d just written. 

“Alright then. Honestly taken a bit by surprise by that, but it’s irrelevant at the moment. I assume you’d like those answers now? Yes?” asked Serida. She paused for a beat to observe their reaction of stunned silence before continuing. “I’ll take your silence as confirmation. 

“It honestly has been occurring for generations, though this is the first time I’ve managed to witness it. Myself and a few others from allied houses have tasked ourselves with finding humans who are arcanely gifted and sheltering them, at least for the time being. The intent is to better hone your skills and prepare you to return to your respective homes to act as the new guardians. To be honest, I wasn’t optimistic about the town and those part of The Choosing until I saw your reaction to my sigils.

“I digress. Somewh-”

“I… sorry…” Galen interrupted. “My reaction? To what? Sigils?” 

“Yes, sigils. The wood was replaced and stained by our craft masters and sent to your town in preparation for The Choosing. Before they were sent, I was sure to inscribe some identifying sigils into the wood that would alert me if any arcanely blessed crossed over them,” explained Serida. Galen’s memories flashed before his eyes as he remembered walking across the stage and seeing those strange, fresh carvings in the freshly stained wood. He’d attributed them to being a feature that was always there - something ceremonial. 

“You… put them there? But.. a-anyone would’ve seen them. They glowed for crying out loud,” argued Galen. “Lira, you noticed them too, didn’t you?” Lira nodded, but it only seemed to affirm Serida’s previous point. Serida shook her head and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“No, not just anyone would’ve seen them because of how I inscribed them. Only those capable of seeing them - those with the sight and ability to detect magic - would’ve been able to see it; that and I felt the sigil burn as you both passed by them. There’s no denying it, Galen.” Serida’s tone was matter-of-fact. Not quite detached, but obviously eager to continue and therefore dismissive of his denial. 

It did nothing to quell Galen’s disbelief. 

“But… I don’t know spells. No sigils. I can’t… summon things as you did just now. Neither can Lira. Y-you… you have to be mistaken,” Galen countered. 

“Well, no one naturally knows spells and sigils. Even those during the Awakening didn’t have words and names for what they were experiencing.” At this, Serida’s teal eyes gleamed, connecting with Galen’s gaze in a way that felt like she was staring through him at something he couldn’t see. “This is what you’re going through; at least, I have reason to believe that’s the case.” She noticed the disbelieving stare from the human man. “Still don’t believe me? Let me ask you then, Galen, how did you lose your leg?” 

Galen stiffened instantly, muscles pulling taut as if he were hit with an intense cold turning him into stone. It wasn’t something he talked about, and those who knew already didn’t discuss it. Even Lira had only asked once years ago when she was very young and when she was learning about him after he took her in as his own. Galen had only given Lira the basics instead of the vicious attack it truly was, all those who witnessed the aftermath surprised that he was alive. The blatant disregard for such a personal story made the man bristle. 

Before he could respond, Serida asked, “It was an attack, yes? One of the creatures came after you? A monster? Why were you attacked? Have you ever wondered that?” 

He bristled and shook his head. “No. No, I haven’t. You know why? Because there is no reason. They attack and slaughter because that’s what they do. I put myself in a dangerous situation to help others and it happened. It was a spontaneous encounter. Random chance and bad luck.” 

“No, Galen. They don’t do spontaneous. They don’t do random. Each attack serves a purpose, just as my taking you and your ward under my care serves a purpose. Those monsters seek out arcane imprints. They seek out people like you because they need to absorb your essence to stay alive.” It didn’t sound real. How could it be? 

Galen started shaking his head disbelievingly. He tore his eyes away, focusing instead on Lira, whose gaze was completely transfixed on the Colossus in front of them, continued to shake as she asked, “Is… is that true? Is that w-why my mom… my dad…” Lira’s voice trailed off, focus shifting to Galen’s mechanical right leg. 

“If they were attacked by the beasts, then yes. My condolences.” Serida bowed her head reverently, an acknowledgement for the loss and pain Lira endured. 

“If… that’s the case… why not tell everyone? Why not warn others?” Galen demanded. 

“Because,” sighed the woman as she leaned back in her immense chair. “Some of the other houses are doing the same thing and catching wind of the allied houses harboring humans as wards and arcanists in training could very well start a civil war if we misstep. It’s bureaucratic nonsense which prevents our interference with the other noble houses and their so-called ‘balance of power’ which too many of them cherish.” 

Few words stitched together sounded more haunting than Serida’s last statement. 

War? Among the Colossus? Some of the other houses are doing the same thing? Same thing as w-... the… monsters? 

The old stories and rumors, now given new life, churned Galen’s stomach. Muddled and overwhelmed, Galen’s ears began ringing. The nausea coated the back of his throat with bile, a sickening gurgle. It smattered the roof of his mouth as he coughed, which made his body lurch involuntarily. Lira, too, looked appalled, though Galen caught a glimpse of something in the air around her that alluded to her lack of surprise. 

“But, why? Why now?” asked Galen softly. 

The Lady Serida sighed and folded her arms across her chest, first hint of melancholy etching its way onto her lips. “Why are the other Colossus houses allowing their people to consume humans like the monsters we protected you from? Why the increased creature attacks? Why not tell? Because the Colossus are waning. Our power is fading, and myself and a few others are attempting to usher in a new era while others desperately cling to their authority. And I can’t do that without your help. Both of you.” 

Something the Lady Serida had said while in the other room came to the forefront of the man’s mind. In between deep breaths and daring to swallow the bile coating his throat, Galen asked, “You said skills? ‘I have tasks for you as well…. Your skills haven’t been lost on me…. So… like her, you were unaware of what you were doing.’ That’s… the magic, but what were we doing? I-is that why Lira was in here?” He looked down at the teen he’d sworn to protect. “What was she having you do?” 

Lira grasped a fist full of Galen’s cloak and inhaled, slow and deep, before responding quietly. “I… I don’t really understand it. S-sh-she called it portents?” Serida nodded, obviously having caught Lira’s tiny voice. 

“Meditation on portents,” she added. “But excellent recollection.” 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” The stress must’ve been evident in his voice because Serida wasted no time explaining, not that it offered the reassurance or deescalation Galen hoped for. 

“Lira is a precognit, Galen. A clairvoyant. Albeit a young one and untrained, but gifted even by Colossus standards.” 

Galen’s memory flashed again, reminding Galen of a thousand little instances of luck. Staying inside and keeping him from going to the forest the day of some particularly nasty storms. Catching things without looking. Avoiding areas of the woods. Even the previous morning. 

“You… were so apprehensive… the morning of The Choosing.” Galen’s voice broke on every few words. “You… saw it?” 

Piercing eyes. 

Lira shied away, averting her face to prevent looking at him, but nodded. 

“But… then… I… I don’t… I mean, I’m not…” 

“No, you’re not a precognit, but something just as useful. No, much like your title in your village, you’re an alchemist. Your profession as an apothecary was the giveaway and I doubt you would’ve noticed anything out of the ordinary when brewing your concoctions,” stated Serida. 

“No… that’s… just…”

“Good herb picking?” Serida guessed with a shake of her head. “No. Something not only drew you to the optimal herbs, Galen, but your work with the individual components made your remedies potent - magic. It was the tell I was looking for when I asked to come along for The Choosing.” 

An alchemist? My work as an apothecary… was me performing… magic? 

It was altogether becoming too much. Galen’s head was swimming. Vision began to form pinpoints. 

Is… everything I thought wrong? Is nothing what it seems? 

“Galen? Galen!”

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

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“Lira?” The hair on the back of his neck raised and a shiver shocked his system. The more reasonable part of him knew she was probably hiding or exploring around their new home, but the more paternal side of him began to slowly dread the silence, filling in the gaps to his detriment, like a stream filling a blocked pond. 

“Lira, are you here?” 

He pushed himself onto his feet and began moving through the halls, a franticness beginning to set in the longer he searched for his ward. “Lira!” Galen called. His heart skipped like a skipping stone on water as he failed to spot her. “Lira!” Galen scoured the other bedrooms, the reading nooks, and nearly burst into the kitchen, nerves beginning to constrict his chest, when something caught his attention. 

A scent of roasted meat. It wafted through the air along with the sound of clinking eating utensils. What made it worse was that it wasn’t from where Galen was standing in the kitchen - it was coming from beyond the walls, outside. The macabre stories of other Colossus and what they did to their chosen humans flashed in his mind. Fear for his well-being vaporized in an instant and yet multiplied for Lira as he darted to the window and spotted Serida at her desk, and based on the scene in front of him Galen suspected she was eating something. 

Instantly, his gut hollowed as he charged outside onto the terrace, scanning both for Lira and any signs for where she might’ve gone. He was so distracted that he nearly tumbled over the trunk which they’d left untouched from the day before. The sound of him clattering against the trunk, mechanical leg whirring at the impact, pulled focus onto him, which he realized the moment he looked over his shoulder and met a cool, teal gaze. She smiled at Galen politely before returning to her meal. 

“Good morning, Galen,” she greeted while wiping the edge of her knife against her fork, both of which were longer than Galen’s body. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Where’s Lira?” It wasn’t meant to be rude or dismissive, but pleasantries came second to Lira’s safety. It was painstaking watching Serida quietly chew her food as he waited in suspense. 

“Generally,” began Serida as she set down her utensils and wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin which could’ve covered four family dining tables back home. “We return a ‘good morning’ with something of the kind. And you didn’t answer my question.” 

“You didn’t answer mine! Where is she?” His blood felt like it was beginning to burn his skin. Serida’s jaw slowly stiffened while she looked at the human man, curious and taken aback at his boldness. 

It was a standoff, if such a thing could exist between a human and a Colossus. Maintaining eye-contact with such an impossibly immense figure wasn’t something Galen had practiced nor had experience doing. Still, his stubbornness overrode his wariness of consequences for acting in such direct defiance. 

He was also well aware that outright hostility and stupidity would get him nowhere. The man forced himself to swallow his pride and remember his manners. It wasn’t for him. It was for Lira. 

“Good morning,” he said stiffly, jaw etched with frustration. “Thank you for asking. I slept well. And you?” Each word was forced through teeth that wanted to remain clenched. He attempted to breathe normally despite the feeling of constriction across his chest. 

It was clear that the Lady Serida was calculating and cold, but now particular and petty were on the list too. Thankfully the moment passed and the woman’s face, harshly stern, eased. 

“As did I. Thank you for asking.” She slowly cut into her meal. “To answer your question, Lira is fine. She’s safe. I have her meditating in the other room.”

“Meditating?”

“A technique that focuses on breathing and mindful awareness. It’s meant to enhance your senses, clarity, a-”

“Yes, I know what meditation… is.” Galen didn’t mean to interrupt and cut himself off before appearing more disrespectful than he already suspected he was being. Again, for Lira’s sake, he adjusted his language. “Apologies, M’Lady. I… should’ve asked why instead.” 

“For peace and quiet. Can’t interrupt her needlessly. Not when I need her,” replied Serida, nodding curtly once in acknowledgement of Galen’s statement before taking the next bite of her meal. The casual tone didn’t override Galen’s fears. They intensified them. Like being dragged down the side of a snowy hill, all was slippery, only making him slide faster from one dangerous thought to the next. 

“Need her? What for? M… M’Lady, she… Lira is just a child. P… P-please. Whatever you need her for, I’m certain I can…”

“Oh, I have tasks for you as well, Galen of North Hollow. Your skills haven’t been lost on me.” Serida’s interruption left him numb. Cold. Stunned into silence and his keeper knew it. Skills? What skills? Serida’s teal blue eyes gleamed, years of secret study, knowledge coveted after hard earned years, while reading the few lines on the human man’s face. “So… like her, you were unaware of what you were doing. Fascinating.” 

Fragmented questions reflected and refracted off one another as if imitating a mirror suspended in water. Galen couldn’t put together a coherent thought to save his life. 

Skills haven’t been l-...

But… what does that have to do with…?

And Lira? Meditating? When did she…?

What is this woman talking…? 

And how…? 

The Lady Serida placed her utensils onto the tray beside her before wiping her mouth casually, then pushed herself back from the desk in one fluid motion. Believing she was about to leave, Galen willed a half-hearted, “wait,” but wasn’t sure if he was relieved or wary when Serida reached over and held her hand flush with the terrace. Galen realized a moment after it happened that he’d looked from the Colossus’s face and then to her hand multiple times in rapid succession as if he wasn’t aware of what she was asking of him. 

What felt like an hour was only a few seconds as Lady Serida gestured to her hand with a nod. “I promise, Galen, no harm shall come to you while I am present, which is more than I can say for other the other families.” 

Her words hit hard, as if a stone had dropped into his stomach; but the hint of confirmation only solidified Galen’s need to assure his ward’s safety. 

“My safety doesn’t matter, but Lira’s does. Can you offer the same assurance for her?” asked Galen. Serida nodded with the first hint of warm reassurance he’d seen from her, emboldening him to ask. “Is… that where you’re taking me now? To Lira?” 

“Naturally,” Serida sighed. “Based on both of your confusion, it makes more sense to explain everything once. Now, shall we?” 

She said it with such ease. Like it was so simple. Hop over the balustrade onto a hand to be carried to some other location. Galen silently admitted that interrupting the Colossus woman seemed more intimidating than being carried at the time, but now confronted with the choice, he found himself hesitating. It wasn’t the first time, but being only the second wasn’t reassuring. 

She hasn’t hurt us. Galen reminded himself as that familiar memory helped guide his first footstep. I’ve trusted up until this point, and little else can be done now. Another step. The old familiarity of his mechanical leg clinking on the stone beneath him reminded him of the power they possessed and of their mercy, good will toward their kind with nothing in return. She’s going to give us answers. That’s what matters, and Lira’s safety. 

He stepped onto the uneven surface with his good leg, stabilizing himself, before swinging the other leg over the balustrade. Like before, there was a distinct give to the living limb beneath him. Standing on living flesh, the support beneath being bone, sent chills up Galen’s spine. It made his nerves scream in protest, and bringing himself down to a crouch to not topple over was all he could do to compromise with his instincts. While his heart raced, he slowly inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth. 

“On we go,” said Serida, which was the only warning he received as she pulled her hand away from the terrace and began making her way across the room toward a door he hadn’t seen before by the balcony. Like before, her steps were smooth and brisk. He didn’t jostle an inch as they crossed the space, a distance that would’ve taken Galen an hour to cross on his own, before gingerly opening the door and stepping over the threshold. 

The difference between the two spaces was staggering. The bedroom where they just were was illuminated by the open windows leading out to the balcony, the warmth of the sun casting its light across the water and through the leaves, giving the room a blue-green glow. Sheer curtains reflected the light across the cool stone. The scent on the wind was warm and faintly salty from the water’s mist. 

The room they stepped into opposed it in nearly every way. The one window looked to be arcanely dimmed, fragments of light seeping through the faint shimmering that looked like the surface of a pond in the early morning hours. Proportionally, it was the size of a large closet or wardrobe. There was only one small desk with shelves above and beside it. If Galen was grateful for anything, it was the smell, which immediately reminded him of the home they left the day before. It was of herbs and living, growing things. Spices and drying leaves, roots and earth. 

This fondness of familiarity was instantly countered when Galen spotted a water filled basin on the desk, a series of glowing sigils below it, and a figure floating on the surface of the water. 

His heart dropped into his stomach, eyes locked onto Lira floating on the surface of the basin. She was unmoving. So unnaturally still that he couldn’t even see a ripple in the water where she rested. He didn’t know if she was breathing - it didn’t look like it - and the way she was splayed was unlike anything he’d seen her do. 

“LIRA!” The shriek rose up in his throat and erupted out of him before he could stop himself. The hand beneath him curled in an attempt to block his view, Serida beginning to turn away. “I… wait! Please! I’m sorry, M’Lady. I… please! She can’t swim!”

“Sshhh…” Serida raised her unoccupied hand to her lips, pressing a single finger against them, while staring intently at Galen. “I will wake her. Please, if you would, refrain from shouting.” Her breath was low and even. If he didn’t know better, the tone was one of warning. “Temper yourself.” 

Serida approached the desk again and, with one additional warning look in her illuminated teal eyes, rested the hand where Galen was crouched onto the table, allowing him to step off. Eagerly, he watched the Colossus woman begin to trace symbols in the air just to the side of the basin, each a brilliant teal that lingered in the air as if drawn by fire. His heart began racing faster with each passing moment. He swore he saw Serida smile out of the corner of her mouth before flicking her wrist, condensing the writing into a thin flame before snuffing it like a candle. 

She then reached toward the bowl and submerged her hand under the water, words muttered under her breath, and fished her fingers under Lira’s body. Until that point, there were no ripples along the surface. It had been completely undisturbed. The moment her fingers made contact with Lira’s back and began to lift, Lira sprung to life - jolted in fact. Like how she startled awake after a bad dream, Lira attempted to sit bolt upright and immediately began to sink into the water. The teen would’ve submerged if not for Serida’s fingers just beneath her. The teen scrambled up onto the awaiting fingers, curling into them while shivering, as Serida lifted her hand from the water and placed Lira, a sopping mess, next to Galen. 

Witnessing this was surreal, but Galen couldn’t afford to ponder the oddity of how quickly Lira had gone with this stranger, let alone a giant. He rushed to the teen’s side, peeling off his cloak which he’d failed to remove from the day before, and quickly wrapped Lira in it. Numbly, she accepted the warmth of the leather, but her eyes were distant. As if stunned, Lira stayed resting on her bent knees and propped up by her arm while the other kept the cloak in place. Galen crouched in front of her, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Serida was quickly drawing strange symbols in the air just over the water as she stared intently into the basin, eyes searching the surface and tracking some unseen thing as if watching a darting fish. 

Turning his attention back to Lira, he cupped her face in his calloused hands and searched her features for some semblance of acknowledgement. “Lira? Lira? You’re okay. Can you hear me? Please, say something. Did she do something to you?” Galen took care to keep his voice low, uncertain if it was futile to disguise his apprehension and distrust. 

Slowly, as if truly waking, Lira blinked and looked into Galen’s eyes, expression unreadable as the complexity of emotions blended into one another. Concern. Curiosity. Fear. Excitement. A fragment of shame maybe. The moment she truly saw him, meeting his eyes, did tears begin to well up. 

“G… Galen? I… I-I-I-I’m sorry. I… I… I wanted to… Th-there are q-q-questions… questions I have… I wanted to protect you a-and…”

“Shh… it’s okay. You’re okay,” Galen soothed, grasping her shoulder with one hand and wiping the tears away with the other. “Lira, you don’t have to protect me. I’m the one who needs to be protecting you; but I can’t do that if you go wandering off. Lira, I mean… what possessed you to just get up and leave? Go with her without telling me?” Guilt riddled the girl’s face. “And questions? What questions?” 

Lira stared up into Galen’s dark eyes and then glanced to Serida. “S-she said she could help get answers.” 

“I daresay so,” Serida stated after tearing her eyes away from the water’s surface. It was clear in an instant that she had been able to hear everything they were saying and wasn’t bashful about revealing so. “Especially now. Thank you.” There was a shimmer in her fingers, an opalescent gleam that materialized an immense, fluffy towel unlike anything Galen or Lira had seen before. She set the towel beside Lira and Galen, tucking the corner into Lira’s arms with her ring finger as she leaned back into her seat, teal gaze dancing with an eagerness Galen recognized as he’d had the same look when discovering something new, accomplishing something he didn’t know was possible. 

While Lira wrestled herself onto the towel, wrapping it around her midsection while keeping Galen’s cloak on her shoulders, Galen stood and turned his eyes to the still glowing sigils under the basin of water, then faced Serida. 

“What answers? What is going on? You talk about skills and us being unaware. Unaware of what?” Galen’s voice carried in the small room, making him feel louder, bigger, than he’d ever felt in his life. 

Serida’s next words offered the explanation he could never have predicted. 

“That you two are blessed by the arcane.”

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

“Yes, Galen?” Serida’s hand shifted beneath the two of them as she lifted her hand up while keeping her arm extended, keeping Galen and Lira from being shoved next to her face to respond. Now at eye-level, Galen had to force his throat clear prior to daring to speak again. 

“I erm…” Only now did Galen look into the piercing, almond shaped eyes and realize the color was the same teal on the Amdir family banners. Taken aback momentarily, Galen felt compelled to look away; that is, until he felt Lira tuck further against his side, practically engulfed in his cloak, and steeled himself. Bowing as properly as he could manage without losing his balance, Galen asked, “M’Lady, before we begin, c-could…” Galen’s throat constricted, fumbling the word. He ensured to speak slowly and clearly to not repeat the same mistake. “Could Lira and I get settled? Take a moment to… collect ourselves?” 

“Your formality is flattering, but unnecessary,” Serida replied without hesitation. “As for retiring for the time being, that is precisely what was intended. We’ll have time to converse later. I wanted to explain some of the features of where you’ll be staying before attending some important meetings. Shall we?” 

She waited, to Galen’s surprise, until receiving a timid nod from Lira, who peaked out from her guardian’s cloak and was imitating his bow. Serida crossed the room with ease and placed her hand onto an expansive second-floor terrace that arced out from the main structure, clearly meant for this purpose. Galen and Lira quickly stepped off onto solid ground, relieved, while Serida placed their trunk of all their packed belongings near the entrance. They turned instinctually toward the Colossus as she began explaining elements of the home which sounded fantastical and unlike anything they had in their world. 

“Now, a few things to note. Water here is enchanted to warm or chill based on the pipe you turn. Left is hot. Right is cold. You’re free to go into any of the rooms in your new abode, but attempting to descend the table is ill-advised, especially without notification as you might be crushed,” stated Serida. “The interior is furnished and there are some standard clothing items. We shall discuss wardrobe options when I return. If there’s anything you require, please don’t hesitate to inform me. Do either of you write?” 

Galen and Lira both nodded. 

“Excellent. If I’m not present and you require something, there’s a parchment scroll by the right side of every door. Write it down and tear it from the parchment. It will be sent to my lady in waiting instantly via arcane spell and she’ll attend to what you require if I’m not available. Please use that sparingly, however, as you fall under my jurisdiction. Any questions?” 

“No, M’Lady Serida,” replied Galen. Those piercing teal eyes flicked between the two humans as they remained where they’d been placed before she nodded curtly. 

“Very well. I shall return with sustenance in a few hours. Your pantry is stocked should you so desire, though I’d prefer we have our next few meals together as I’d like to get to know the both of you. Until then.” Serida offered a polite head nod, which Galen and Lira returned with a bow, as she whisked herself out of the room, parchments and quill in tow, leaving the two of them alone once more. 

Now that they were by themselves, Lira completely collapsed to her knees, shoulders crumpling like an overwatered plant. She withered into herself as the disbelief finally began settling over Galen, who staggered to their trunk and sat down heavily. It didn’t feel real. How could it be real - how could he feel this way - when he was so numb? His hand reached up involuntarily and began repeatedly pinching his left forearm, some prayer inside hoping this was all just a dream. 

His thoughts, few and far between, lacked coherence. One moment, his mind focused on the possibility of escape and hiding from the Colossus, but it was quickly dismissed as he realized the futility and potential consequences of that action. They’d been given no reason to be afraid; at least, not entirely. The next moment, Galen contemplated conversation with Lady Serida for one reason only - protect Lira. 

Lira.

Galen leaned over, elbows resting on top of his knees as they bounced nervously, as his hands rubbed against his hands against his bearded jawline before resting, clasped, in front of his lips. Eyes remained distant as the flashing memory from earlier on that platform played in his mind again. It wasn’t just eerie. It was unnerving. It unsettled the guardian to his core as he heard Lira and Serida’s voice uttering the same words in tandem. 

How did she know? 

He felt the cold sweat on his brow make contact with the tips of his fingers as a single bead dripped along his temple. The skipping thoughts that were darting across the churning waters of his mind slowed to the one thing he could control now. Galen noticed Lira sitting, defeated, and felt the question rise in his throat knowing full well he was breaking the one thing he’d always promised himself - not to press and let her come to him. 

“Lira.” The way she flinched at her name, shying away, meant she knew where this was going. The teen continued to keep her head down, a look that didn’t quite fit her. Galen had always seen life from this child. Though quiet more often than not, it was a rare occasion for her to be so quiet for so long, especially in what Galen could only describe as apprehension. Fear. 

“Lira, I… know I always promised to not… press you… on things you feel. Not until you’re ready.” Galen saw Lira shivering harder. He leaned forward, knowing that it would do little good with them being several feet from one another. It still seemed to have an effect on Lira, however, while she continued to dodge Galen’s attempt to catch her eye. He continued. “After everything that happened with your father and you coming to live with me, I… have always ensured to hold true to this.

“Lira, you’re not in trouble, but I want… need… to know how you knew what Lady Serida was going to say.” Galen was met with silence except for Lira’s stifled sniffles. The sound of her tears hitting the stone beneath her was all Galen could discern as he listened and waited with quickly fading patience. “Lira, please. This is important.” Galen pushed himself to his feet and began pacing a few steps one way and then the next as he took in the structure meant to accommodate them. Some sense of urgency began to clench the man’s chest. 

“I don’t know why this is happening. I don’t know why we were chosen. I don’t believe the Amdir as a whole mean us harm, or Lady Serida for that matter, but… Lira… I need to know everything if I’m going to keep us safe,” urged Galen. He stepped in front of her, his subtle shadow eclipsing her, before kneeling before his ward. “Look at me. If you know something, you need to tell me.” He caught her chin with a curled index finger, but she could not meet his gaze. 

She remained quiet. 

Knowing this was a futile endeavor, Galen sighed, frustration tensing the back of his throat, before pushing himself to his feet, knee on his mechanical leg catching, before managing to rise to his full height. Seeing nothing else to do, Galen turned his efforts onto exploring the structure looming beside them. 

Their new home. 

Galen’s surprise at the ease of opening such an immense door escaped in an audible “huh” as he stepped inside the first room, door pushing to the side as if weightless. Instantly, he felt his jaw slacken as he saw the interior. It mirrored the main hall of the Amdir home, a grand archway culminating in a pointed dome over the first tiled room. Even the furniture mimicked the interior with the vine-like tables and chairs. 

Astonished, Galen realized his jaw had slackened while taking in the extravagant scene. To the left was a kitchen easily double the size of Galen’s home in the town. The stairway beyond led to who knew what; most likely bedrooms if Galen had to guess. A Library filled to the brim with books, spines neatly organized, sat to the right. Writing desks made of gorgeous, dark wood with the same vine pattern found elsewhere in the home sat in the corners of the room. The elegance and effort was overshadowed by the tiny, detailed elements, which offered the essence of comfort and welcome, but coldly. It was as if someone who didn’t know Galen’s personal preferences took initiative and decorated his home in a way only they saw fit without asking Galen or Lira for that matter. 

Walking through the space felt like traversing a dream. Every detail felt too perfect. Every turn led to some new space. Each moment, the hope of waking presented itself; only to be spoiled with the harsh reality that this was indeed their new life. 

There’s enough to do here for our lifetimes and then some. Reading. Writing. I wonder if I’ll be able to garden. Is the soil here the same or different than it is back home? Will I be around long enough to find out? 

Galen ventured up the stairs and indeed found a few bedrooms, four poster beds with curtains and lavish covers which felt like how clouds looked in the sky. Never had Galen’s calloused hands touched something so fine. Disbelievingly, he hesitated before turning around and sitting down onto the bed, sinking into the mattress as a boot would to soft mud. The fear of smudging the covers was completely secondary as Galen felt his body momentarily relax against the comfort of the cushion below him. 

His eyelids drooped. The excitement of earlier overwhelmed him and, soon after, Galen realized he was prone on the bed staring at the ceiling drifting off to sleep. The apothecary was only vaguely aware of Lira entering the room he was in, only noticing as the bed shifted as she curled into his side. 

Sweet dreams for the both of us. 

We might need them. 

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Lira hated everything about the past day. Really, the whole past week if she was being honest. The ceremony. Traveling here with the Colossus. What she hated more than anything, however, was the fact that Galen had been pulled into this whole mess too. He’d always been so kind and warm to her. Always understanding and caring. Generous. Thoughtful. Anyone who didn’t know them would’ve guessed he was her father or a much older brother. 

That’s just the way it was, and Lira didn’t want it any other way. 

Did she miss her parents? Naturally; but that’s hard to do when you don’t remember them very well. If she was being honest, thinking of a parent figure only led her to think of Galen. 

It made this whole thing so much worse. 

I should’ve tried harder. 

I should’ve pretended to be sick. 

Maybe then we wouldn’t’ve have been chosen by the giants. 

I could’ve convinced him. I could’ve done a lot of things to keep us from going. 

Lira curled against Galen’s side, relishing in the warmth of his body and the softness of the bed beneath them, smell of drying herbs and leather from Galen’s clothes grounding the teen. She grasped onto his coat and pressed her face into the fabric while wishing it would lull her back to sleep. 

It was as she closed her eyes, however, that she noticed a new sound that wasn’t Galen’s soft snores as he remained peacefully asleep. Scratching? The sound of rustling parchment? Lira’s curiosity pricked the back of her mind, compelling her to sit upright and scan the room of stone and adorned with vines and Amdir family colors. She followed the lines of the vines around the room to the windows. She could see the books on the shelves beside the clear panels of glass. She could see the reflection of the setting sun in the mirror on the other side of the room, colors streaked across the sky in aurora-like colors. More importantly, she could see the Lady Serida at her writing desk just outside the room where they slept. 

A shiver shot up Lira’s spine and felt the instinctual urge to shy away when some part of her resisted. 

You have questions…

And… you dragged Galen into this. 

You owe it to him. 

He’s always protected you. 

You need to do the same for him. 

Lira fixed her eyes on the door and then back to the window, the Colossus unaware of the fact she was being watched, and slid off of the bed. The bed left a clear imprint of where she was lying, the outline of her shoulder and side clearly visible in the dirt smudges left behind. Galen’s subtle shift as his side was exposed to the air rather than Lyra’s warmth brought the teen to a standstill. He didn’t wake, leaving Lira conflicted, before she focused on her resolve and exited the room with the same quiet precision Galen had taught her when moving through the forest. 

Her fingers began tingling as her heart fluttered and flipped, leaving a sense of nausea. Each step felt heavy, just like when she’d crossed that stage during The Choosing earlier that day. 

Has it really only been a day? Lira wondered. 

Her shoes scraped against the ground, the sound easily masked by the sound of quill against parchment. The moments passed in increasingly slow increments. Perception slowed. Thoughts sped up until questions and ideas blurred together until they were nothing more than a high pitched hum. Lira didn’t realize she was lingering by the door on the second-floor terrace watching Lady Serida until the Colossus paused her writing and turned her eyes to the house she’d gifted to the two humans. Her gaze quickly found Lira by the door and the Colossus offered a polite smile as she placed her quill back into a slot beside an inkwell that was as tall as Lira. 

“Good evening. I’m assuming you slept well?” asked Lady Serida, positioning herself sideways in her seat at her desk to face Lira. It was such an unnerving feeling as the thought of the Colossus peering in through the window to spot them unconscious on the bed. Lira’s hesitation, however, prompted a follow-up statement. “I passed by and noticed you two through the window. Apologies. That must be a… novel… sensation for you two. Is Galen still asleep?” 

Be strong, Lira. 

For Galen. 

Lira took the opportunity to step beyond the threshold of the entryway and approached their trunk tentatively, using it to sit before timidly nodding. 

“Yes, m’lady,” Lira replied. 

Serida’s brow raised. Surprised or impressed, Lira wasn’t sure. “And you’ve ventured onto the terrace without him? Why? To seek an audience with me?” 

Lira’s heart hammered harder - louder. Her mouth was parched. The price for a clean glass of water couldn’t have been too high for the teen as she stared up into Serida’s face. Words failed her, leaving her with nodding as her only option. Again, a quirk of the brow left Lira unsure of what the Colossus was feeling. 

“Really? I’m intrigued.” The woman sighed and leaned back in her seat, pose relaxing and mind obviously distracted momentarily. “Let me guess, you have questions? Why you? Why Galen? Why make a show at The Choosing?” 

Lira nodded, stunned at the straightforwardness and also grateful she didn’t have to bring it up directly. 

“Before I answer your questions, allow me to ask you a few of mine.” Serida laid her hands in her lap, one folded onto the other, and asked, “How long did you see it?” 

Confusion crept over Lira. She shook her head and shifted awkwardly on the trunk she was sitting on. “S-see? See what?” 

“You know what.” Serida’s cool, calculated tone was slow and deliberate. “The Choosing. How long did you know you and Galen were going to be chosen by me?” All at once, Lira felt like she had been doused in frigid water. Her eyes widened. She was sure she’d paled. The cold sensation poured over her, making her sit upright. What made it worse was that Lira’s reaction wasn’t lost on those piercing eyes of the Colossus, who smiled knowingly in that same way that made the teen feel uneasy. 

She… know? 

How? 

How did she know? 

Did she use her magic on me? 

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, the simple motion taking all of her concentration to do, before Lira attempted to shake her head. 

“I… I-I-I-I d-didn’t.” 

“No? Because your reaction is telling me otherwise,” stated Serida. Lira’s core began to tremble. Like an avalanche, the nervous shake traveled up Lira’s spine and into her shoulders. She didn’t know if there would be repercussions for her attempt at deception. “You’re shaking. Scared?” 

Salty tears burned at the corners of Lira’s eyes as the shaking allowed her control enough to nod. 

“Of me? It’s natural, but unnecessary. I’m the least of your concerns - believe me. Care to tell me what you saw? Maybe elaborate on it a bit?” pried Serida. When Lira was unable to respond, Serida took the opportunity to continue. “You saw them, didn’t you? Monsters and beasts, all tearing through the rifts from their domain to yours. Flames engulfing your home, that sweet little cottage at the edge of the wood. My eyes meeting yours. The stars vanishing one by one in the sky, whispers trailing off as they beg you for help. Galen in one of their jaws being torn apa-...”

“Stop it!” Lira shrieked. Her hands were clasping her ears as tears gushed from her eyes. As each thing was listed, Lira could picture it as clearly as if it were before her. Hollow eyes. Bloodied claws. The gnashing of teeth. Burning flames and Galen’s cries for help, a man who, to Lira, had never shown weakness. 

Silence enveloped them. All was quiet, save for Lira’s sobs. Minutes passed as, finally, Serida strained her ears to hear, “Stop… stop… please…” as Lira whimpered repeatedly. The child’s chest heaved as her futile attempts to calm herself finally proved successful. 

“H-h-ho…”

“How did I know?” interrupted Serida. Lira watched as the Colossus woman leaned forward, her field of vision eclipsed entirely by Serida’s face, as she replied, “I didn’t know. I saw. I’ve seen the same things for quite some time. Now, the next question you’re going to ask is ‘how,’ right? How was I having the same dreams? More importantly, how were you having these dreams? It shouldn’t be possible, right?” 

Lira felt her head swirling. Her insides churned. What little she had for breakfast was long gone, so hunger and sick began making her insides clench. It was a new kind of uneasy that settled over her, and Galen wasn’t here to help make sense of the world. 

“Is… i-i-i-is it… real? W-what I saw?” Lira asked. 

“Sometimes,” replied Lady Serida, the singular word resonating hollowly in the air. “Depends on a few things, naturally; however, I’m rarely wrong, and you and I have seen similarly.” Lira’s head hung limply as the Colossus’s words hung around her, clinging to her like forest burrs. “Do you know how it might be possible?” Lira shook her head numbly at Serida’s question. Her mind was occupied with more concerning things like her guardian and his safety. 

Galen. I brought him into this. I kept this from him. 

“I-I-I… I d-don’t kn-know. I d-don’t know-w how. I j-jus-st want…” The image of Galen’s panicked, terrified face as someone  - some faceless Colossus - ground their teeth into his torso, blood spewing from his mouth, as the light left his eyes. Lira’s cheeks burned, but not from embarrassment - from determination. 

All her life, Galen had done everything to protect her. 

He’d taken her in when she had no one. 

He taught her everything he knew. 

Provided for her. 

Teased like a brother and guided like a father as if she were his own. 

She knew what she wanted - needed - to do. 

“Just want… what?” Serida asked. 

Lira felt the tears which were rolling down her cheeks slow as she stiffened her jaw and looked up into the piercing teal eyes of the second born of the Amdir with her own dark ones. It was a surprising moment for both parties, but Lira’s determined voice was able to clearly respond. 

“I want to protect Galen, no matter what.” Lira pushed herself up off of the trunk and shakily advanced a few timid steps. It was such a surprise that even Serida leaned back away from the terrace as the teen stepped forward toward her. “Please… can you help me? I… I can’t lose him too.” 

The Lady Serida considered the teen for several long moments before asking, “What would you be willing to do? To keep him safe.” 

“Anything.” Serida had barely finished her question before Lira responded. 

Something felt eerie about the way Serida smiled. There was a curious eagerness of a hungry mind obviously pressing its will onto the situation. Lira hated that look, but she meant what she said. 

Anything. 

“Very well. Then, when you’re ready, let’s get started.” Lira watched as the Amdir woman’s hand peeked over the edge of the terrace, an obvious invitation for Lira to accompany her. Lira began shaking again, each step generating a new level of fear she thought she’d never face again. 

Galen… forgive me.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

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Rennic curled in on himself as a kind of whimper escaped him. This young adult continued to struggle with coping through this as he buried his head in his hands, shoulders visibly shaking. Galen tore his eyes away from the young man, unable to find the words to console him. Instead, he turned his eyes to the light as it flared before them and watched his world vanish in a nebulous flash. His entire body tingled, as if falling from a great height. Warm and cold blended in his bones. A shudder seized him, and Lira flinched as the same undoubtedly happened to her. His wince was involuntary, but as the glimmering sparks dissipated from his eyes, Galen saw an entirely new land before him. 

Through the gaps in the carrier they were in, Galen could see sprawling mountains mixed with pools of glittering water. These immense gorges stretched high into the sky and carved labyrinth-like paths out of the earth, only visible from this place high above the ground. The scents were sweet and fresh, but charged with something more - something Galen couldn’t explain. Waterfalls misted through the air, creating transparent prisms of light and color. Immense birds, large enough for a human to ride, soared overhead, diving down toward the surface of a lake that sparkled like morning dew on a spider’s web. Lira stirred against Galen and gasped as she peered at the world beyond their carrier. 

“Galen,” she breathed, eyes filled with numerous, churning emotions. 

“I know.” Galen reached up and scratched the back of his neck and followed his bearded jawline, index finger resting against his lips as his mind sifted through what he knew about locations he’d heard about and had seen. Ambient noise filled the space between the humans while staring out at the strange land before them. 

Where in the world are we? Is this place in our world? Or is it theirs? wondered Galen. It wasn’t without reason. This place was stunning, unlike anything Galen had witnessed in his years of exploration, but little could be enjoyed at the moment as Rennic’s voice cut through the silence. 

“What do you think they’ll do to us?” Rennic’s tone was foreboding. Ominous. Something Galen wanted to banish from his mind with every fiber of his being. The young man kept his eyes averted, turning away from the windows and the world they found themselves in. Galen gave the man a stern look, which held no sway over the following lines of questioning. “You’ve heard the stories, right? What the other Colossus families do to those they’ve chosen?” 

“I’m not familiar.” It was a lie, and evidently an obvious one at the look of incredulity he received. He had heard stories — too many — about what certain giants did with their chosen. The Gurst tormented them through cruel trials. The Bael were rumored to gift their Chosen to the warriors who had performed well to do with what they pleased. The Tharn, allegedly, consumed theirs. And the Amdir… though they were known to be measured, merciful, and fair, some descendants were not innocent.

“Who will they be like?” pressed Rennic. 

“They will be like the Amdir, measured and merciful. They have always been fair,” stated Galen. 

“Fair? Taking us was fair?” spat Rennic bitterly. 

“After letting the others return to their homes and families, yes,” countered Galen. “Nothing is free, boy; it just so happens that it was our turn to pay.” His mechanical leg bounced involuntarily, betraying his own nerves. 

Rennic, seeing this, questioned further. “But why us? For years, they’ve selected their Chosen and given them back to their families. Why now? Why us?” 

In a look only Galen would know, he noticed Lira’s eyes dart to him before turning back to the outdoors, hinting she was keeping something close. 

More secrets. More questions. 

“We’ll have the opportunity to ask sooner than later,” muttered Galen. “Fretting about it now and holding malice against them won’t serve you well. The Colossus have protected us for generations when there was no reason to. They’ve made countless sacrifices. We have no right to presume we are owed protection. Sulk and process as you see fit, but know asking questions now serves no purpose.” 

“You’re saying you’re not afraid? For yourself? For her?” snapped Rennic, head snapping a gesture toward Lira at Galen’s side. Bristling, the child’s guardian sat up, jaw locked and eyes burning, which made Rennic shrink back into the teal and cream cushions. His leg no longer shook and rattled as an eerie still came over him. Sitting up and forward, he ensured Rennic was looking into his eyes before Galen uttered a word. 

“My fear has no bearing on what I’m willing to do to protect her. I have to trust that the Amdir benevolence extends to the present. Pray that it does. They’ve saved my life and have stood sentinel for generations. There’s no reason to believe otherwise now,” growled Galen. Some part of his mind was completely committed, unable to bear malice or resentment toward those who had saved his life. Another much quieter part of his mind, however, possessed its doubts. What he understood of the Amdir had been thrown out the window. Yes, one of them had helped him so long ago; however, he’d also been taken. 

Was this because of me? Is this because of… back then? 

A debt they’ve come to collect? 

Have I roped Lira into this? 

Lira’s soft gasp garnered his attention immediately, gaze following hers as he spotted what she’d seen. Beyond the cliffs and along the edge of the gorge they’d been carried by was an immense lagoon, a mountain emerging from the waters and coarse sands came into view. Unlike the other cliffsides and ranges they’d passed by, this one glimmered with the windows and panels it was covered in. 

It wasn’t a mountain - it was the Amdir home. 

Unfathomably large trees clung to the rocks all the way up the mountainside jutting out and around the windows and arched doorways. Long, thin openings woven together and made of braided branches covered the surface and undoubtedly led further into the heart of the mountain. Banners of teal and cream blended with the flowers and leaves along balconies and buttresses  that towered above the Colossus holding rock and stone at bay while shielding courtyards and open spaces. 

Like a cathedral carved into the mountainside in the cities far to the east, the feeling of this place was regal and uncompromising. It was truly a place meant for giants, leaving Galen feeling smaller than he’d ever had in his life. The grand gates swung open with an audible friction as the stone doors parted ways for the Amdir family. Attending servants scurried underfoot at the arrival of the head of the Amdir, and the commotion put the humans in a state of unease. 

Lira, who had stood to peer outside the secured window, was once again at Galen’s side. The carriage they were within was jostled as the guard holding them stepped to the side and placed them on a table at the center of the grand hall, a place that mirrored the grandeur of the exterior while keeping a cool air as this place resided in the mountainside. Galen’s chest felt compressed, air struggling to fill his lungs, while he watched the Amdir family pull over to the side, quiet words obviously being exchanged between them; and, undoubtedly, about them if those sideways glances had anything to say about it. 

Galen, hoping to hear their whispers, stood and approached the open windows, straining his ears to hear something - anything - that might hint at their fates. 

“-ing both of them was bold of you Serida, especially if you’re wrong,” stated Velmor softly. 

“I’m not,” replied Serida, his daughter. “I know…” Her voice tapered off. “And you know the oth-…” 

“We have no proof of that,” Velmor said, harsher so his voice carried clearly. 

“Because they’re making sure it d-...” countered Velmor’s daughter, piercing eyes gleaming with the arcane. Uneasy silence settled among them before the father looked tiredly at his son. 

“And you? With him?” 

Eranth, arms folded, acknowledged his sister with a look before muttering something about “curious” among other things which Galen couldn’t discern. He might not have heard the words, but the furrowing of Velmor Amdir’s brow churned the man’s gut uneasily. Like the sensation of moving through that arcane door, a chill began filling Galen’s bones, heart beating quicker with each passing moment. He felt a chilled bead of sweat on his brow. 

It did nothing to settle the churning in his gut as the father quietly excused himself and the children turned their attention to the container where all three humans waited with baited breath. In swift strides, they closed the distance, Serida arriving first, and flicked the latch on the exterior from closed to open. The way the metal clanged on the outside felt like the toll of a bell, signaling what was to come. Galen wasn’t even aware that he’d retreated from the door until his back hit the opposite wall. 

The door, flooded with light, swung open, the silhouette of hands barely discernable just outside. Galen held his breath, waiting for the next move. Was this an experiment? See who was bold enough to venture out first? Or was it a test to see who would be obedient and remain until summoned? 

Galen felt Lira’s gentle presence against his side, fingers snaking into the loops on his belt where he usually placed his leather packs and containers for herbs. It was instinct that brought his arm and cloak around her as his fingers clasped her left shoulder. The muffled whimpers of their fellow human was the only sound for several long minutes before the Amdir son, Eranth, spoke. 

“Rennic, would you come out, please?” The timbre of the giant’s voice alluded to a genteel individual, but it did nothing to convince the human to depart from the perceived safety of the metal around them. One minute. Four. 

“Eranth, I doubt he’ll come through gentle coaxing,” Serida stated quietly in a voice Galen was barely able to discern. 

“As if your approach would be more successful,” Eranth hissed. 

“Challenge accepted,” Serida retorted. Her voice, clear as a bell on a serene morning. “Galen. Lira. As Chosen, I invoke the right to summon your presence. Please disembark the vessel and fulfill the oaths of your forebearers.” 

It wasn’t a spell. It wasn’t a command. Galen suspected that it would feel different and that there would be no choice to disobey. As he lived and breathed, nothing was forcing him to leave the carriage. Still, the force of presence in her voice compelled Galen to move forward. He looked down to Lira, whose eyes were locked onto the doorway, gaze distant. 

We are going to be okay. We may have been taken, but nothing can be done about that now. What can be done is protecting Lira. Now isn’t the time for that conversation though. I don’t want to risk consequence so soon into this… 

“We’ll be alright,” Galen reassured while hearing his own uncertainty in his voice. That first step with his mechanical leg felt like moving a mountain, weight keeping his foot firmly planted, until the mechanism scraped against the floor. Lira’s subtle tug away from the door nearly anchored him to the spot, but it was merely a rightful hesitation before she matched his pace step for step. 

They passed over the threshold into the light, vision adjusting quickly to reveal the interior of the Amdir home. The same cascading archways they’d seen from the exterior induced a sense of vertigo on the interior. Everything in this place was meant for being far larger than themselves, and standing on a foyer table emphasized that point. Teal and cream banners clung to the ceiling and buttresses down branching hallways which Galen had no hope of navigating. 

Give me a forest anyday. 

Scanning the area, Galen found his vision drawn by the movement of the Colossus woman in front of them. His neck craned upward, jaw locking in place, when met with her piercing gaze. 

Piercing… I’ve… heard that before… recently. 

The smile Serida offered was polite, but cold. It was made in acknowledgement of power and courtesy rather than genuine joy. Galen wasn’t sure which one was more unnerving in his mind - joy or courtesy. 

“Well then. There you are.” Her evaluative eyes locked on like some kind of predator as she concentrated on Galen, then to Lira where they lingered for several painful moments before flicking back to Galen. “Let’s handle formalities elsewhere. In the meantime,” Serida reached over and retrieved the chest that belonged to the pair of them before, casually, placing her hand flush with the edge of the table. “We should retire to my quarters.” 

Galen, who had watched the hand’s shadow engulf them, felt his mouth dry as though filled with cotton. His heart was in his throat and his breath was somewhere between his mouth and lungs. Attempting to force a swallow was useless. Moving was even more futile. Palms suddenly sweaty. Knees threatened to knock together at any moment. There were only a few times in Galen’s life where his mortality seized him by the throat and pinned him against his will, and he’d lost his leg. 

This was one of those times. 

“Ah, I see,” Serida sighed. “Feeling in need of reassurance? Guarantee that you and your child won’t be harmed? I can only promise that you are under my protection while here and that any actions taken elsewhere places your fate into your own hands. Now, please get onto mine. We have things to discuss and I’m sure you have questions.” 

Her tone bordered on flippant, but Galen heard her words and heard the truth in them. Using Lira as his grounding anchor, he squeezed her shoulder and ensured his cloak was still around her as he guided both of them to the edge of the table. The table fell away to reveal the floor far below, giving the illusion they were on a cliff’s edge. What was more unnerving was the number of details Galen was able to notice as they approached the Colossus’s hand. 

A freckle on the edge by her pinkie finger. 

Each and every crease and crevasse that constructed her prints. 

The minute chip in the nail on the index finger as it involuntarily flexed with the other fingers that lay before them. 

“Galen.” Lira’s small voice was barely above a whisper. Was she shaking? Or was Galen? Did she speak to reassure? Or to plead? 

“I know.” He breathed in return as, bracing, he dared to take the first step. That breathless moment as his foot crested over the edge of the table and stepped down onto the pliable substance lingered, compounding second after second. It was pure instinct that led his mechanical limb out first, unwilling to sacrifice the remaining leg should things go awry. Stabilizing himself on the surface was like attempting to walk on the swollen moss fields to the south of their home. The surface was uneven, but also solid. It moved, yet feeling the substance beneath said there was something there giving it structure. 

He guided his other leg down and secured his footing before assisting Lira, whose features were locked in a hard to read expression, which was saying something as Galen had learned her quirks like the back of his hand. Stepping cautiously to the center, he ignored the way the fingers curled upward and the jostle of the limb beneath them as it drew away from the solid surface of the table before Serida turned and took her first step away. It was surprising. 

Practically gliding through the halls, Galen imagined being carried by a Colossus to be more unsteady, thinking they’d be thrown from their feet in an instant. A flashbulb memory filled his mind. Blood everywhere. Pain. Glowing eyes and the sensation of restraint followed by some uneven surface shifting beneath him. The words - a promise of return - never fulfilled as rescue came sooner than expected. Immense eyes and fragments of cloth wrapped around a stub filled with pain as he was cradled by something with a warmth of its own. 

Perhaps… they’re more careful and aware than I gave them credit. They were careful before. 

Rooms passed by in the blink of an eye. Galen fought the urge to vomit as nausea churned his stomach and to ensure he remembered every pathway and turn if the worst should present itself. One left. Long hallway. Right and right. Sigils on a tapestry that stretched from towering ceiling to floor, rippling over the wall like an immense waterfall which would be a good place to hide if need arose. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the glowing marks he couldn’t begin to understand. Questions formed. 

How did they manage to get fabric to shimmer and shine like that? 

Was it a product of their magic? 

Why were they glowing? 

Were they… moving?

A sudden left interrupted his train of thought as they entered one of the rooms whose doors were closed. Serida strode in with ease and shut the door behind her, turning the latch with a soft clicking sound, as she entered her room. 

It was one of the rooms that faced the lagoon and the distant cliffs and mountains. Her quarters were bathed in a blue-green light that gave the sensation that the foliage was actively creeping into the room. Shelves of books inlaid into the walls of stone and were stuffed with parchments and books. An immense bed that easily would’ve covered Galen’s home village was set into the stone on the far side of the wall. 

These things combined, however, did not unsettle Galen in the slightest, unlike the makeshift castle set up beside the desk. The imagery alone mirrored the home of the Colossus and the Amdir home, but scaled perfectly for a human to reside comfortably within it. It looked as though it belonged to toys - dolls - and Galen’s mind wandered to their purpose - why he and Lira were here. 

She’s not thinking we’re… dolls… to be played with… is she? Surely not. She’s… too old for something like that, right? Or is this some kind of convenience? Someplace for us to live? Or merely a cage? 

Galen couldn’t be sure, but Serida’s next words chilled him to the bone and tempted his imagination to do its worst. 

“Now… let’s get started.”

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

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