Hilda and the dragon - DefeatedOne (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

The late autumn wind gusted past Harold as he walked slowly up the winding path towards his home. The wind was strong and cold, probably blowing off the nearby mountain range. It went right through his customary yellow rain jacket, that as of now was his only protection against the early morning chill. He wished he could have stayed out longer, he loved his little walks through the woods. The song of the birds, leaves playing in the wind, the babble of the river, it was all a beautiful orchestra of distraction. He knew he had to go home though. It was selfish of him to keep leaving like this but he couldn’t stand being cooped up in the house all day with nothing to do but worry. And wait. Still, he couldn’t keep his feet from dragging as he approached the door. With a long sigh he opened the door to a dark room. Johanna was probably still upstairs. He hung his yellow coat on the peg by the door and walked over to the fireplace, looking for any excuse to prolong the trial he would face upstairs. After a few minutes he got a fire started, and walking to the stove put a kettle on. He desperately looked around for anything else he could do, any menial task. After a moment of searching in vain he gave up. Accepting his fate, he walked to the stairs. With each step his feet grew heavier, he wanted to run back downstairs and stay outside for the rest of the day. For the rest of the week. Forever. He passed the room he shared with his wife, to the door at the end of the hallway. The door was cracked and he could see the form of Johanna, his wife, standing by the bed in her customary spot. He opened the door with a creak, he really should oil those hinges. He almost stopped, wanting anything to stop what came next. But no. I gotta be strong. She needs me. Johanna looked up from the bed, her eyes red. Harold paused for a moment, then silently prayed for strength. He walked over and put his arm over his her shoulders. He braced himself, then looked down. There she was, his daughter. At about 2 years old, she should have been running, playing, talking in the funny way toddlers did. Instead she was silent. Too silent. She was asleep, brown hair plastered across her face. Still breathing thankfully.
“She’s looking better today.” He tried to put some of his old enthusiasm into his words, and even managed a smile. They both knew he was lying. Johanna didn’t say anything. In truth, his daughter, Hilda, was getting much, much worse. She barely ate anything, and almost never moved anymore. They had taken her to every doctor, witch, or spirit they could think of but nobody could help her. They had all just given their condolences. Looking at the too small bundle of his daughter was almost too much for him. He had once thought he could take anything, keep going no matter what. He wasn’t so sure any more. He knew it was worse for Johanna, who also barely ate anything. He took her hand. “Come on, you need to eat something. I’ve got a kettle going, we can make some peppermint tea.”
Johanna didn’t say anything, simply nodding as she let him lead her out of the room. Once downstairs, Harold fried up an egg, and made some simple jam toast for Johanna. He poured two cups of tea, but instead of sitting with her he walked to the door and grabbed his coat off the peg. It was time for his second trial. He walked out the door and around the house, where a shovel was leaning against the little red building. He grabbed it and walked down the now familiar path. After a few minutes of walking he reached a small hill covered in little white and blue flowers. A beautiful spot. Near the top of the hill a small mound of dirt broke the otherwise uniform wavy grass and flowers. More important than the beauty, it was out of sight of the house. He walked up to it and was met by the start of a small grave. With his longest sigh yet, he stabbed the dirt. It was hard, and almost frozen. He had probably let this go too far, but it was so hard to accept it. Their last trip to town to visit some witch who claimed to have great healing powers had only been a few days ago, although nothing had come of it. He took another stab at the cold ground. Why was this happening to him? All he loved in this world was his family. We should have moved to Trollberg like Johanna wanted. This is all my fault. He looked down at the too small grave and felt tears forming in his eyes. He knelt down as they fell. After a short time he felt a small tap of the shoulder. He hurriedly wiped his eyes and turned around to find none other than the Wood Man standing before him. He held in outstretched arms a small bundle of firewood. “Oh… uhm… thank you.”
Harold accepted the gift with a small nod.
“I don’t want to pry,” Wood Man said, “but I take it this latest trip to the city didn’t help.” Harold looked down and shook his head. The Wood Man sighed. There they stayed, Harold kneeling before the hole, Wood Man standing by his side. They stayed like this for a time, both apparently lost in their own thoughts. “I really shouldn’t tell you this, as it might just be another bit of false hope” Wood Man said the words slowly, as if second guessing his own words.
“There is a…Spirit, on top of a mountain.” He said spirit like it was more of a guess. “Maybe 100 miles north of here. It has an incredible healing power. If there’s any creature in this world that can help, that would be the one.” Wood man said
Harold simply stared. After a moment passed he simply asked “Why haven’t you said anything about it before? Why haven’t I heard of it?” Woodman shrugged.
“I’m not really supposed to tell you about it. And as I said, it might not help. It’s up to you to decide if you want to go. You can just take the north road as far as it goes. That will get you almost to the base.” He held up a map of the area, with an unnamed mountain circled, which Harold took, having set down the fire bundle.
Without another word, the Woodman turned around and walked away. Harold watched him go. Damn spirit. You could be a little more helpful! Harold wasn’t sure what to do. He really shouldn’t leave Johanna alone. From the sound of it he would be gone for a day, maybe two. He really didn’t think they had that long. He should stay, and be responsible for once in his life. The call of the adventure was strong though. And what if this spirit could help? Surely that would be better than sitting in a cold house. He shouldered the shovel and started walking home, still not sure what to do. Late that night, after a quiet dinner and a movie to distract both of them, Harold made his decision. Maybe it was another bit of false hope, but he couldn’t just sit here. He had to do something. Anything. He silently climbed out of bed and dressed himself. He left a short note on the table, explaining that he was going to try to find a spirit up in the mountains, and then went out the door. He started the car and drove off into the night. Trying, unsuccessfully, to outrun the shame of abandoning his family.

Several hours later the road disappeared almost under him. He parked the car, noting the position of several tall trees nearby so he could find it again, then started out on foot, eyes locked on the looming mountain ahead. The weather quickly grew stormy, and the closer he got to the mountain, the worse it got. Eventually it was a full on blizzard. There did appear to be a path where the trees had been cleared and it looked to go all the way up. He grit his teeth and kept moving. He traveled through the storm, one trudging foot in front of the other. He quickly found that he was completely lost. As long as he kept going uphill it would be fine right? He couldn’t feel his feet anymore. This would be a right good way to die. Alone on a Godforsaken mountain, searching for some magic cure that probably didn’t exist. The thought of Johanna being left alone in that empty house drove him to keep moving. He should be at home with her, offering what small bit of comfort he could in Hilda’s last days. Well, it was too late now. His legs burned where they weren’t frozen and there was so much snow in his face he couldn’t see very much past the ground right below his nose. But still, he kept going. He stumbled, and sank to one knee. He took this as an opportunity to take a short rest and brush the snow out of his eyes. He looked around and to his relief saw a faint light coming ahead. Perhaps a lone cabin where he could wait out the storm. As he drew closer he saw it was in fact the mouth of a cave. This gave him pause. What sort of creature would make a home all the way up here? Surely not a human. He considered it for only a moment. Whatever was inside might kill him, but staying out here surely would. Besides, he was good at making friends with creatures. Sometimes. His mind called back to a few experiences with some particularly nasty trolls. He shook his head to banish the memories as he walked to the mouth of the cave and saw that the source of light was a torch. The mouth was large and the torch flickered in the wind. Somebody must have lit it, within the last hour, judging by how much of the torch was left. Maybe they had sheltered further inside? At the end the cave narrowed and became more of a tunnel, but it angled off so he couldn’t see much past the mouth. He sank down next to the torch, relieved to be out of the snow. The wind was still freezing him, maybe he could go deeper into the cave? Maybe this was even the place he was looking for. A cave high up on a snowy peak? Seemed like the perfect place for a spirit to live. Groaning as he stood back up he grabbed the torch and headed into the cave. He had to stoop as he entered, but as he started forward the ceiling slopped up enough for him to stand. He continued down the corridor for a time, turning and ducking as the tunnel demanded. He arrived in a large room. The first thing he noticed was the warmth. It was very comfortable inside. The perfect temperature. He heard water dripping from somewhere distant. He could see mosses and mushrooms of all varieties on the wall and along the floor. The room was longer than it was wide, and there was a good 20 feet of open air above his head. The room slopped up at the end to a strange mound. He was too far away to clearly make it out, maybe a pile of rocks from the ceiling? He took a step forward and was startled by a strange shattering sound, like a dropped glass. He looked under his foot and saw the smashed remains of some sort of crystal. Completely translucent, he hadn’t noticed them at first, but as he looked around he saw many more. Looking up he saw to his astonishment that the mound of rocks was gone. Had he imagined them? Some sort of light trick from the torch? Just then his torch went out. He let out a yelp and even dropped the torch from surprise. He hastily looked down, making it out in the dim bluish light. But wait…where was the light coming from. Ahh, the crystals! Each of the crystals on the floor let off a dim blue light, with an awkward dark spot from the now smashed footprint he had left. This had to be the place. Warm cave on a frozen peak with magic blue glass? That checked every magical spirit box. Awkwardly he cleared his throat then addressed the empty room.
“Is anybody here? Any uhm… spirits perhaps?”
The room rang with his words, but otherwise remained empty. He waited. Maybe it took a little while? Nothing happened. He waited for a few minutes, staring across the dimly lit room. Still nothing. Sighing, he turned around and came face to face with a monstrous form. Two orange eyes looked at him from deep within a scally head. Two curling horns grew out of the head, almost resembling the horns of a ram. A long snout came forward with teeth that looked more like railroad spikes. It stood on 4 enormous legs, 5 razor sharp claws longer than his hand on each foot. A wicked tail ran behind it. Two horns at first looked to be coming from the beast's sides, but they instead tipped two leathery wings. A dragon. He was face to face with a dragon. What was a dragon doing here? They were all dead! The witches had killed them all hundreds of years ago. Well, not this one. If the people of Trollberg even heard a rumor of a dragon being within 500 miles of them, the city would be empty by morning. But here one was. Not even 10 hours away. His legs were shaking. He took a slow step back. The monster was blocking the exit, there was no way out. He was going to die here, eaten by this thing. Johanna would never know what had happened. Well, she might have a clue when this thing inevitably razed Trollberg to the ground. The creature leaned forward slowly and Harold braced himself for the bite he knew would come. After bracing for almost an entire minute he was left perplexingly untouched. What was it waiting for? Was it going to toy with him? Was a quick death too much to hope for? The monster seemed just as confused as he was. It co*cked it’s head slightly and…raised an eyebrow? The dragon didn’t really have an eyebrow but that was the expression Harold got from it. The dragon opened its mouth slightly and Harold instinctively took another step back. Instead of attacking, it started talking to him.
“Can I help you with something?”
The voice from the dragon was far too soft for a creature like this, and sounded vaguely feminine.
He blinked in surprise. Help him? A dragon? Surely it was messing with him now. He opened his mouth to reply but nothing of any substance came out.
“Uhm… I uh… uhm…Well…I am, uh…”
The dragon suddenly leaned in very close and squinted “Unless you’re a thief!? After my treasure? Can’t leave me in peace? Well I will show you not to mess with a dragon!”
Harold stumbled backwards but his foot caught on something, probably another crystal, and he fell on his bottom. The creature started advancing, a dangerous gleam now in its eyes. Harold put his hands up to show they were empty, except for the torch.
“I’m not a thief! No thievery here, uh, Mr. Dragon.” He managed to squeak out. The dragon stopped short, then focused on the torch in his hand. “That’s my torch!” Harold dropped the torch. “I was just, uhm, borrowing it?” Amazingly, that seemed to satiate the dragon, who leaned back just a bit.
“Hmm… Well that’s good. Unless you’re lying to me.” The dragon seemed to be considering.
“How can I believe you?” The dragon pulled back fully, then sat on its haunches much like a cat would and was apparently thinking very hard. One of its clawed hands even came up and stroked its chin. Harold just sat there, hands still raised completely baffled. Every story he had ever read about dragons told him that he should be dead 30 times over by now. Dead or turned into a drekamaður, which was probably worse. But here he sat, untouched. The dragon snapped its claws together, which made a terrible screech, like a nails on a chalkboard. “Oh of course! How foolish of me.” The dragon shot a hand out, a single claw outstretched so fast Harold couldn’t react. The claw stopped right as the tip touched his forehead, without even breaking skin. Before he could even jump Harold felt something lock his muscles. He couldn't move at all. He couldn’t even move his eyes. He couldn’t breathe. Was his heart even beating? The dragon's eyes started glowing a deep blue. Red accents around the eyes and down the sides of the dragon he hadn’t noticed before started glowing a bright red. He felt something tugging. Tugging on his mind? No… on his memories. The dragon wanted to see his memories? The tugging was getting stronger and Harold had the distinct impression that resisting would only prolong the process, so he let the memories flow. He relieved his entire life in an eyeblink, every memory he had. Some memories he didn’t know he had. The dragon stopped glowing and Harold could move again. Immediately, he sucked in a deep breath and slowly pulled his head back from the claw. It had only lasted seconds, but losing the ability to breath was deeply unsettling. The dragon rolled its eyes. “That damn wood spirit. He shouldn’t have told you about me. That is a clever way to get around the contract. I’ll have to add that in.”
Wait, Wood Man had known he was sending Harold to a dragon? If Harold ever made it out of here, he was going to make a rocking chair out of that thing. The dragon stood considering him.
“Hmm…Yes. I see. That is a nasty curse, but I’m afraid I can’t do anything about that. I recommend you track down whatever witch did it to you and try to apologize for whatever trivial offense you made to her.” The dragon started walking towards the back of the cave. “You probably didn’t bow deeply enough.” That was followed by a scoff.
Curse? What curse? Harold honestly had no idea what it was talking about. He scrambled up to his feet
“No, I, well, curse? No, I’m here for my daughter, Hilda? She’s very sick.” Why was he talking to the thing? He should be making a run for the exit. It hasn’t killed me yet. Why start now? The dragon had reached the back of the cavern and was in the process of lying down. “Ahh yes. Very sorry that has happened. You really should have known better, with a curse that strong.”
Harold was a bit taken aback with that. “I’m sorry” Harold said, closing the gap just a bit. “But what curse?”
The dragon looked confused “The curse you bear? To bring ill fortune to anyone close by?” Harold just stared at it blankly.
The dragon just stared back, seemingly in disbelief. “How could you not know? Haven’t you ever noticed all the terrible things that happen to the people around you?” Harold paused. He thought back to Johanna, breaking her arm at their wedding. His mother losing her job when he moved back home. Friends and neighbors losing random things whenever he was around. His father dying in a car crash while he rode in the passenger seat. They all seemed like coincidences…but there were a lot of them. With a horrible moment of realization he saw it. All the things he had brushed off as bad luck. Maybe there was a subconscious reason he liked being away from other people, out in the woods.
“Oh I’m sorry.” The dragon's eyes softened and miraculously actually seemed to be sympathetic. “The things that happened aren't your fault. Not really. I guess in a way they are, because they wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t around. But really…” The dragon seemed to notice that the words weren’t helping.
“But anyway, let's see what we can do for your daughter.” That pulled Harold out of his stupor. He would deal with this world shattering news later. The dragon started glowing again. A bright blue light came from the ceiling and looking up, Harold saw huge clusters of the strange glass crystal. They were arranged without any rhyme or reason he could find, no pattern he could see. The placement didn’t look natural though. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something was off about it. One by one the overhead crystals went dark until only one cluster was left. This one started flashing, then went a deep red. Then without warning, it went out. The dragon’s glow dimmed until it went out. It sat for a moment, an unreadable expression on its face. “Well…I can help her.”
Harold felt a boulder fly off his shoulders, one he hadn’t realized he had been carrying until now.
“You can? Oh thank you. Thank you, erm, Mr dragon?” The dragon sniffed at this
“It’s Mrs. actually. And I do have a name, Harold. ‘Oh rudest one of the humans’. My name is Kaspakona but you can call me Great Wise Dragon to make up for it.”
“Oh, uhm…yes. Well, thank you Great Wise Dragon.”
Kaspakona rolled her eyes.
“I’m kidding! You humans are no fun anymore. Please, call me Kona. And don’t thank me yet, you probably won’t like this.” Kona fully laid herself down. “And would you walk over here so I can stop SHOUTING?” She hadn’t actually been shouting until that last word.
Harold jumped and then sheepishly trotted over. As he approached, Kona turned her head to the nearby wall. She opened her mouth and a stream of blue fire -the same color as her scales- hit the wall. This made Harold stop short, ready to sprint for the exit. Before he did however, he noticed what the fire was doing. It swirled against the wall in all sorts of mesmerizing patterns, then out of the fire appeared a small glass bottle, and a piece of paper. Which both promptly fell to the floor, the bottle hitting moss to keep it from shattering on the floor.
“Please fetch those for me.”
Harold walked over and tapped the bottle with his finger, checking to see if it was hot. It wasn’t, in fact it was remarkably cool to the touch. The bottle was corked and had maybe a teaspoon of an opaque silvery fluid in it, about the consistency of frying oil. The paper appeared to be blank. He walked them back over to Kona.
“That one-” She said, nodding her head at the bottle “-is what you might call a magic cure.” She gave him a wink at that. “If you give it to your daughter it will give her the strength to fend off the illness. But it won’t cure her. As you may have guessed- or maybe not since you don’t seem to be good at noticing these things- this sickness is not natural. The potion will help her, but will also have…side effects. Nothing bad, but she will be different. It also won’t last forever, she will need to return here herself around the time she turns 14. Not terribly specific I know, but it’s hard to read the crystals for something so far out.”
Harold looked up at the crystal formations. Could she really be seeing the future in them? Why not? She is a dragon.
“You’ll want to save a drop of the potion for yourself.”
Harold looked back down at the potion in his hand. “For me? Why?”
Kona hunched her shoulders in a way he could only interpret as a shrug. “I’m honestly not sure. But the crystals are. And they are never wrong. Well, there was that one time, but really it wasn’t wrong, just less than 100%... Well regardless, it’s important.
Harold didn’t know how to respond to that.
“Just a drop, mind you. Any more and you could develop some of the side effects.”
Harold paused. Should he be worried about the side effects? It seemed she was being deliberately vague. He decided he didn’t really care. Living with side effects was better than death. Probably.
Kona gestured to the paper in his hand. “That is a contract.” As she said the words, writing started appearing on the paper. It read: “I, Harold Wildsen will never tell any creature or intelligent spirit of the whereabouts or existence of Kaspakona, or of this mountain in general. I will do nothing to directly or indirectly cause suspicion of Kaspakona’s location, and will not come back to this place for anything unless given express consent from Kaspakona.”
He looked back up at Kona. She gave him a serious look. “This is very important. If the witch council got even a hint of me living here, they would never leave me in peace. Also, this is no simple elf contract. It is very binding. If you sign, you will be physically unable to do any of the things listed.”
Harold felt his mouth go dry, and hurriedly reread the contract. Then turned it over, to make sure there wasn’t any writing on the back. He didn’t find anything new.
“I don’t suppose I have a choice then.”
“Well you do have a choice, I just won’t let you leave without signing.” She said in a jovial voice, completely contradicting the sinister undertones of her words.
“Oh, I uh… I see. I don’t suppose you have a pen on hand? He placed the potion bottle in his pocket, and put his hand out motioning with his fingers as if he were holding a pen.
Kona snorted out a jet of fire above his hand, and an old fashioned ink pen fell from the flames right into his outstretched hand.
“No ink, I’m afraid. For this kind of thing you must use blood.”
Harold sighed. Of course. He carefully pricked himself with the tip of the pen, then as he touched the tip to the page, he stopped. He looked up at the sleek dragon. A question was bothering him. An important question. “Why are you helping me? Why do you care?”
Kona looked away and…blushed? Apparently, dragons could blush. What a day to be alive.
“I understand that dragons aren’t exactly viewed…favorably.”
That was an understatement. Most of the stories didn’t get told anymore, being cited as too violent for children, and adults didn’t like to think about them either. Most of the dragon related stories Harold had read came from old books, in the hidden section of the library during the winters he was stuck in Trollberg.
“I do admit that most of it isn’t total fabrication. Many of the stories are dramatized, but based on some truth, so I really don’t blame you for your distrust. But I’m not exactly the average dragon, or well I guess I am now that there's so few of us left. Anyway, I am -and always have been- a healer. A very, very long time ago people would come from all over for me to heal.” She took a wistful expression at that. “I had many friends among the humans. Even among the witches. Every year they would hold this big festival for me and bring me gifts and we would all feast and celebrate the new year. I always told them not to go to all the trouble, but that never stopped them.” She paused for a moment, lost in memory. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. The point is this:” She turned back to him, making eye contact. Harold looked deep in her eyes and saw agelessness, A timeless wisdom. “I am helping because it’s what I like to do.” This dragon was old, it must have seen and lived through so much. And, maybe despite his better judgment, he believed her. Maybe it would turn out to be some sort of dragon trick, but what could he trust if not his heart? He signed the paper. After the last stroke, the paper burst into blue flame. The flames didn’t burn him, but he still dropped it in surprise. After a moment there was nothing left but ashes. He looked up at Kona, who gave a slight nod. “I’d offer you a place to stay, but I’m afraid you don’t have much time. You should hurry.”
“Thank you, Kona.” She nodded again. He turned and started towards the exit. “Oh oh oh! I almost forgot.” He turned back to Kona. “I give you express consent to bring Hilda around the time she turns 14.”
Harold raised an eyebrow at that, but he didn't know how a magic contract signed in his own blood would work, so maybe this was necessary. He thanked Kona again and headed out of the chamber. When he exited the cave he was pleasantly surprised to see the storm had broken, and the sun was out. Less pleasant of a surprise was the position of that sun and the elongating shadows. It was already late afternoon. Had this really taken him the better part of the day? He had been lost on the mountain for quite a long time. As he descended the mountain, his thoughts drifted back to the curse he apparently wore. He didn’t remember ever messing with a witch, he had only interacted with one a handful of times. Oh. Except that one time he had accidentally knocked over a stew pot in a magic house in the woods…And he had left a note apologizing. With his name. And address. That might explain it. But it didn’t really matter how he had gotten it. What was he going to do about it? Could he go back like Kona had suggested? Try to apologize? It had been years ago. He wasn’t sure if he could even find that house now. There was also no guarantee the witch would accept it. If she was nasty enough to hunt him down and curse him over a pot of spilled stew, she wasn’t likely to ‘forgive and forget’. So how was he going to go on? This curse had, among other things, killed his father, and given Hilda this fatal disease! How could he live everyday knowing that a troll could just walk by and take the car, that Johanna might go blind, or that a giant might crush the house just because he happened to live near them? What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just leave them, it would break his heart. Johanna was the love of his life, and Hilda was a little bundle of joy. Besides, Johanna would never accept him leaving because of some curse. She would stubbornly refuse the effects, right up until it killed her. He couldn’t let that happen. Maybe he could just disappear? It would be hard, very hard. But if it was to protect them, he could do it. He couldn’t go too far, seeing as he had to bring Hilda back to the cave eventually. So maybe he could live in Trollberg? Alone in a quiet area. He hated the city, but there wasn’t another town close by and he couldn’t exactly build a new house close enough to be relevant, not without drawing Johanna’s curiosity. Another problem occurred to him. How was he supposed to disappear cleanly when he had so clearly returned home? He was returning the car after all. Johanna would know he had come back, and then left. That would hurt her, maybe worse than the curse would. He was still a few hours away, hopefully he could find a solution. He reached the car and started back down the road as the sun set, his mind afire thinking of potential options. Several hours later, far into the night he arrived home, with a solution. It was really quite simple, he just had to fake his death. He would posit that he had died somewhere on his journey, and that the ‘oh so kind spirit’ he had met returned the car and some of his possessions, along with healing Hilda. It wasn’t perfect, and Johanna might be too smart. But it was better than nothing. But first, he had to deal with Hilda. Quietly, not making so much as a creak he snuck into her room. For a moment, staring at the tiny bundle, he thought he was too late. After a few seconds of tense silence, he picked out the small shallow sound of her breath. With a relieved exhale of his own breath, he pulled the bottle out of his jacket pocket and popped the cork out. He reached down and kissed her forehead.
“This will make everything better. I promise.” He gently opened her mouth and started pouring the bottle in. He almost drained it all, but right before the last drop fell he remembered to save it. He dropped it onto his finger, then popped it into his mouth. There was no flavor, but for just a moment he could smell the scent of a fresh rain, his skin felt the warm summer sun, and he heard the silence that followed a deep snowfall. It was gone as fast as it came, and he was left momentarily stunned. Then, stirring in front of him caught his attention. The moonlight coming through the window was enough to show some color returning to her cheeks, and as he watched, incredibly, her hair bled from dark brown to a wild blue. The same color as the dragon. He let out a relieved sigh. It was working. That must be one of the side effects. He snuck back out of the room. Once downstairs, he enacted his master plan. He produced a small piece of paper, and using flowing penmanship (entirely unlike his usual calligraphy) he wrote a simple message. “I wish I could have done more. I am sorry.” He drew some spirit symbols he remembered reading about in another one of the hidden library books. Supposedly it was a language the spirits used to communicate. He doubted the random things he drew meant anything, and he doubted Johanna even knew about the symbols. But on the off chance she did, it would make the note much more convincing. He laid his jacket out on the kitchen table, and placed the note and keys on top of it. Hopefully Johanna would buy it. He took a final look around his home. In a cruel show of irony, he now wanted any excuse to stay. He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes. No time for that now. He sniffed and wiped them away. Was there anything else he needed? He didn’t want to take anything Johanna would miss.. As he walked to the door, his eyes were drawn towards the family picture sitting on the entry table. Hilda in Johanna’s arms, and he was standing next to them with an arm around Johanna. He just couldn’t leave it. He took it, frame and all, and walked out the door. For the last time.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Hilda was flying. Soaring over mountains, rivers, and plains. The bright summer sun shone down from a deep blue sky, only broken by the occasional cloud. A warm breeze blew across the landscape as she flew by at an incredible speed. The city of Trollberg quickly arose from the horizon, and in a moment she had left it behind. She saw the ruins of the old castle, caves, cliffs and troll rock covered mountains. Forest giants and river spirits. Trying to focus on any one thing was impossible, she was moving too fast. So instead she just enjoyed the sights. She had flown before, on the back of the Raven and the occasional Woff. Even in a blimp. None of those had felt this free, this alive! For the first time she wasn’t just along for the ride, she controlled where she went, how fast she went, how long she went. She let out a laugh, filled with joy. A thought did occur to her. How exactly was she flying? She looked all around but didn’t see anything strange. Nothing was holding her, and she couldn’t find any source of propulsion. Why should she? Hadn’t she always been able to fly? No, that couldn't be right. She felt like she would have flown a long time before this if she could. But it felt so natural, so right. She also noticed, with some dismay, that nothing actually moved beneath her. No grass waving in the wind, no animals playing in the trees, no water flowing. Something was definitely wrong. It was beautiful in a way. A perfect moment, frozen in time. She spent a moment just enjoying it. Yes it was wrong, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was bad. She floated down to the earth. She was in a small forest clearing, with thigh high grass all around, only broken by the occasional yellow or red flower. She didn’t recognize this place, which wasn’t really that surprising. As much as she prided herself with the self given adventurer status, she really hadn’t been very far past the walls of Trollberg. The silence was unsettling. This clearing should have been filled with the sound of birds singing, wind rushing through the leaves, insects buzzing, and all the other sounds of the woods. She rose into the air, trying to escape the deafening silence. As she rose, her eyes fell on a particular mountain peak. It didn’t look any different from any other mountain, but something about it drew her towards it. She didn’t feel like she was moving, but the mountain drew close at an alarming speed, almost like the earth was rotating underneath her. It was a bit short for a mountain. Hilda could probably climb to the summit in an afternoon. Maybe less, as there appeared to be a path through the trees all the way up. Did somebody live all the way up here? She knew that some forest rangers like to have cabins higher up in the mountains so they could easily observe the landscape around them. She didn’t see a cabin or anything though, so she wasn’t sure. She did notice the mouth of a cave, near the peak. Before she could notice anything else she was suddenly in the Woodmans house. She looked around. She was sitting in a chair, book and tea in hand. Hadn’t she just been outside? She saw the Woodman himself sitting in a chair across from her. Book raised, obscuring his face. “Woodman?” she asked, hesitantly. The Woodman lowered the book, and to her dismay she saw that Tontu’s head now rested, or rather floated, on the Woodman’s shoulders. The Tontu woodman thing gestured to her tea. “Are you going to finish that?” She looked at the tea in her hand, but it was instead now a large bucket sized cup of troll mead. Glancing around she was now in a cave, and to her shock an elf sized Trundle now sat in the troll mead. He even had a little red cap like Alfur. He looked up, and seeing her gave a friendly wave. Then he promptly crumbled to dust. Hilda just stared. “I must be dreaming.” she said, shaking her head. As if on cue, she suddenly awoke, safe and sound still in bed. Hilda sat up in her bed with a sigh. Right. Back to reality. She glanced at the clock on her desk. She was awake a little early, so she fell back on her pillow with a slight thump. She didn’t need to start getting ready for a few more minutes. The feeling of flying in the dream lingered. It was so fresh in her mind, she felt like she should be able to jump out the window and just float away. Wouldn’t that be nice. With a sigh she got out of bed and got dressed. Her room looked about the same as it had since she first moved to Trollberg, just over two years ago. There was now a conspicuous hole on her shelf where Alfur’s house had been. A few weeks ago he had moved into the kitchen so he wouldn’t bother anyone with the letters he sent and received at all hours of the night. He had started a dedicated novelized accounting of all their adventures, and because the E-mail system had now expanded to a 24-7 operation through clever elf shift timing he never had to stop. Now dressed, she walked out of her room. From the lack of sound, it appeared her mom had already left for the day. She was so busy with her new job, Hilda hardly saw her anymore. Entering the kitchen, she made a quick breakfast and ate in silence. After the underwhelming meal, she grabbed her bag and headed to the door. She didn’t see her homework anywhere, but Tontu’s arm promptly appeared from behind the bookcase, folder in hand. “Thanks Tontu.” Hilda took the folder gingerly, and the hand pulled back in without so much as a word. Tontu was very reclusive these days. Hilda was pretty sure it had something to do with the pretty nisse girl that had moved into the neighbors house downstairs. She said goodbye to Twig, stopping only to give him a few pets, then she was out the door. The path to the school was now all too familiar to her. Always the same 7 or so blocks, passing by the same houses in the same order, seeing the same plants in the same little gardens. Even the people were starting to become a part of the routine. The same mailman passed her at the same time he usually did, the same woman stood on her porch sipping the same tea in the same bathrobe as yesterday. Hilda felt like she was drowning in routine. This past semester had been really hard for her. She had never been good at school, which didn’t really bother her. But the older she got the harder school became. She now had to actually dedicate time to homework if she wanted to pass her classes. It was all so frustrating. It felt like she didn’t have any time anymore, and when she did have a bit of free time she just spent it sitting at home, or aimlessly wandering the city. It seemed like everyone she knew was moving on to new things, busier things. She still just wanted to go out into the woods and explore. She needed to go on an adventure, and soon. Maybe Frida and David were actually free tomorrow? It was the bird parade afterall. Going around the festival wasn’t much of an adventure granted, but compared to another day at school it sounded wonderful. The thought of having a day out with her friends put a bit of a spring back into her step. She arrived at the school building with a few minutes to spare. Looking around she didn’t see anyone she wanted to chat with, so she just walked inside. She walked into the classroom, and chose a seat in the back at random. She only shared one class with David, but that was in the afternoon. She didn’t have any classes with Frida. A group of students entered the room, choosing seats in the front. Hilda hadn’t expected any of them to sit next to her. She knew how she was regarded by most of them, as the weird forest girl who would probably get them killed on some insane adventure. They mostly just left her alone, which she was more or less ok with. The classroom steadily filled until the sound of the bell drew the final few stragglers in. Her teacher came in, and promptly collected the homework. Most of the other students had a folder, or a neat stack of stapled papers. Hilda only had one paper, with what appeared to be a tea stain on the bottom corner. The teacher simply sighed when she handed it in, and Hilda looked away. It wasn’t that she had ignored the homework, she’d just been distracted. Although, without Alfur always checking her work it might not be up to her usual level of quality. Well, it would have to do. The teacher returned to her desk with the stack of homework, and the day really began. Hilda did her best to try to pay attention but as usual her thoughts drifted. As ‘interesting’ as this math lesson was, she couldn’t stop thinking about how much fun tomorrow would be. All throughout the class she didn’t stop imagining what the day would be like. Maybe I can finally get Frida to ride on the Raven! He probably wouldn’t have a problem with that, he does love to show off. And we could try that new restaurant, or maybe the sparrow scouts will have a broth stand! And we cou - “HILDA!” She jumped, head snapping up off her desk. Apparently she had drifted off at some point. She looked up sheepishly and was met by the teacher's scowl. Somebody to her left, probably Trevor, let out a snicker. The teacher pointed to the board. “Should I even bother asking you to solve the problem?” Hilda looked down. “I’m sorry Ms Hallgrim.” She just sighed, and continued with the lesson. Hilda did her best to pay attention, but eventually settled for just staying awake. The rest of the morning went on without note. The time moved sluggishly, but eventually the lunch bell sounded, and she ran for the lunch room. Lunch was great, mostly because she got to sit with David. She got to the lunch line, which was aggravatingly long. She almost skipped it, the food would probably be awful anyway. She didn’t see David anywhere yet, so she decided to just stick it out. She eventually reached the end of the lunch line and was greeted by the sorry sight of a vegetable “soup” that looked more like 2 week old gravy. It even had a skin starting to grow over it. Beside that was a roll that looked harder than most trolls she knew. Trying to hold back her disgust she accepted the tray and went in search of David. After a moment of searching she found David in the lunch room and to her surprise she saw Frida sitting next to him. She ran over as fast as she could without spilling her lunch everywhere. Despite being as careful as she could, by the time she reached the table her soup had sloshed all over the rest of the pitiful meal. They looked up as she approached.
“Hey Hilda!” Frida gave her a smile and David waved.
Hilda sat her tray down. “I’m glad you could join us Frida. What are you doing out so early?”
Frida had started going to ‘magic school’ as Hilda called it. Apparently she had a lot of potential in witchcraft, so Tildy had gotten special permission from the school to teach Frida everyday. Most days Frida didn’t even come to school, and when she did she was in the most advanced classes so Hilda almost never saw her during the school day. Then, because she was still a student she spent all afternoon doing the homework. Hilda didn’t know how Frida did it, she would have gone crazy. In answer to her question Frida gave a small shrug. “Tildy went easy on me because of the holiday tomorrow, so I finished pretty quick. So now instead I get a jumpstart on my chemistry work. And lunch with you two.”
“Sounds like a raw deal to me.” David said, around a mouthful of his sandwich. “Instead of cool spells you get to sit in a boring room learning about oxygen.”
“Hey!” Frida actually sounded offended “I like oxygen!” Hilda laughed at that and they both soon joined in. It was so nice to be with her friends again. She hadn’t fully understood just how much she had missed this until just now. They talked and laughed as the minutes slipped by. Hilda tried to hang on to each one, but it was like trying to hold water with a strainer. The 30 minute lunch break slipped by, and before she knew it, the bell rang, interrupting David’s story. He cut off mid sentence, then shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll finish later I guess.” He packed up his remaining trash and all around the other kids started standing up. David started to stand as well. This was her last chance. She had waited for a good time to bring up the parade tomorrow, but she hadn’t wanted to interrupt the conversation. “David, wait just a moment.” He paused halfway out of his seat, and looked at her expectantly. She suddenly felt very awkward. No, these are my friends. Even if it has been awhile since we talked, I won’t feel awkward! She cleared her throat. “I was just wondering if you guys maybe want to go to the festival with me tomorrow. It’s been so long since we all had a day off I thought it could be fun to just wander together.” She blurted it all without taking a breath, which simply made David raise his eyebrows. He then opened his mouth to reply, but Frida, not noticing, cut him off. “Oh I’m sorry Hilda, but my parents have been dying to see what I've been learning with Tildy, and I promised I’d show them tomorrow.” Hilda felt her heart drop just a little. She then looked at David hopefully. He was giving a thin lipped expression towards the back of Frida’s head. It was gone after a second, and Hilda wasn’t entirely sure if it had been there to begin with. He looked back at her “I’m afraid I’ll be busy tomorrow as well. The school’s putting the whole choir on a float to sing at the parade all day tomorrow. I honestly wish I could skip this one, seeing as they’re putting me at the very top! That’s almost 12 feet off the ground.” Hilda rolled her eyes at that, mostly to distract herself from the sinking feeling she had.
“I’m sure you’ll do great David.” She even managed a normal smile. With that David wished them a good day and left. Frida wasn’t far behind him, and soon Hilda was alone at the table in a quickly emptying lunch room. She stood up, leaving the sludge untouched, and walked to her next class. Trying, and failing, to pay attention as the day stretched on. How could a good plan fall apart so fast? She probably should have known not to get her hopes up, but she was excitable by nature. The last class of the day eventually arrived, and she greeted David as he walked in. He sat next to her and actually remembered to finish the earlier story. The teacher hushed them when they came in, but that didn’t bother Hilda. This was by far her favorite class of the day, not only because of David. History was her favorite subject, it felt like she was exploring the past. Today was unfortunately just a review of the week's reading, but it was still fun. The teacher even let them choose partners to review with, so she got to help David, who as usual hadn’t finished. Contrary to the rest of the day, the time slipped by quickly and Hilda soon found herself waving goodbye to David as she walked out the doors of the school. The sound of talking and laughing taunted her. No one spoke to her, most just ignored her. Try as she might, David and Frida were the only friends she had. The other kids thought she was strange, and dangerous. Both of which were probably true. She didn’t know what to do. She tried to go to all of David’s performances, admittedly most were on the weekend when she was out exploring. But even when she did go, she was just a face in the crowd there. Frida was always busy, with witch practice or school. The last time they had spent any real time together had probably been their last sparrow scout camping trip, but they weren’t even in the sparrow scouts anymore because they were too old. It really wasn’t surprising they were busy. Of course they’d be busy, they always were afterall. Maybe her mom would have the day off? I must be really desperate if I'm hoping I can go to the parade with mom. She continued down the all too familiar path. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do. At the very least the Raven would be around tomorrow, it would be nice to see him. Maybe she could drag Alfur out too. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She arrived at her street, but didn’t see her mom’s car anywhere. She probably wouldn’t be home for another hour, maybe two. She waved to Mr. Ostienfield as he walked past. She still felt a sharp pang of guilt every time she saw him. She trudged up the stairs to their apartment and opened the door to find Twig waiting in his customary spot. He jumped up and she knelt down and gave him a few pets. At least she could always count on Twig to stick around. Well actually, it was almost time for his annual trip to visit the deerfox. Every year they appeared in that same place for a couple days, and twig usually disappeared for a few days. She always secretly worried that one of these days, he wouldn’t come back. A stupid concern she knew, but she just couldn’t help it. “Did you have a good day?” Twig, of course, didn’t reply. She stood up and closed the door behind her. “Any mail today Tontu?” A muffled voice coming from under the couch replied. “On the table.” She walked over to the kitchen table and saw a neat stack of letters. Most looked like the regular slew of bills and junk, but one stood out. A large brown envelope. Picking it up, she saw it had her name listed instead of her mothers. There wasn’t a return address, or even a stamp. Curious. She took it into her room, and using one of her sharper rocks, went to open the letter. Before she could get all the way through the seal, she heard the sound of Johanna coming in. She set the letter down on her desk and ran out of the room, it could wait for now. She saw her mom in the kitchen, setting some things down on the table. She turned around at the sound of Hilda running down the hallway and gave a smile. Hilda let out a smile of her own, and gave her mother a quick embrace.
“Sorry I’m so late.” She was actually home much earlier than usual, but anytime after Hilda got home was ‘late’ to her mom. “We had to finish up the last of the signs for the festival tomorrow. They gave us three new designs this morning! I honestly can’t believe we finished them all in time.”
Johanna had started a job at Jorts, as one of the graphic design artists. It paid very well, but kept her very busy. “How was your day?”
Hilda shared the day’s events, leaving out the poor grade she had gotten on the homework and David and Frida being too busy to go to the festival tomorrow. She didn’t want her mom to worry about the slow death of Hilda’s social life. They got some leftover pie out of the fridge, and had an ordinary dinner, without anything of interest. The topic of her homework did unfortunately come up, and she almost lied about it. But she had been trying really hard to be more honest with her mother. When she broke the news, that of a C- in math, her mom simply pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything. Hilda really did try her best, she just got distracted. She knew that sounded like a lame excuse, but it was the honest truth. She just hoped her mother understood. After the meal was over, and everything cleaned up, Johanna immediately went to her desk, again hard at work. Hilda walked over, doing her best to sound casual. “They have a new restaurant opening tomorrow, I was thinking we could try it out during the festival.” Johanna didn’t look up from her drawing board, clearly very invested in her work. “Oh I'm sorry, they want me to stick around the unveiling of the new Jorts billboard downtown.”
“Surely they don’t need you there all day. We could just go during lunch.”
“I’m actually going to lunch with the CEO tomorrow. My boss said they might be promoting me! Apparently I’m causing a bit of stir. I did make the new bill board basically single handedly, and I guess somebody noticed.” Her mom was clearly very proud of that, and Hilda was too in a way. The timing was just horrible for Hilda. That was being selfish though, and she knew that it wasn’t fair to blame her mother for her success. So she forced herself to sound genuine. “Well that’s very exciting. I always said you’re the best artist in the world.” Johanna did look up at that, with a beaming smile. “Oh Hilda, that's very sweet.” She gave Hilda a hug, and went back to her work. Hilda started walking away. “Why don’t you take David and Frida to that new restaurant tomorrow?” Hilda froze. There it was, like a punch to the stomach, an acute reminder of just how poorly the day had gone. She turned around, ready to make some excuse, but saw her mom rummaging through her purse. She pulled out some money, and held it out to Hilda. “I think you’ve earned a nice lunch with your friends. I know how hard school is for you, but I want you to know I don’t care about your grades. I’m just glad you’re trying.” Hilda just stood there for a second, trying to think of something to say. She finally accepted the money, not sure what else to do. She mumbled her thanks, and something about being tired and ran to her room as fast as she could. She closed the door behind her. She hadn’t lied to her mom, she hadn’t said that she was going to be with David and Frida tomorrow, she hadn’t even implied it. She knew she was rationalizing, she hadn’t been honest with her mom. She deserved better. She felt bad, but not quite bad enough to make her go tell the truth, which just made her feel worse. She shoved the money in her pocket and flopped down onto her bed. She felt tears of frustration start to well in her eyes, which was in itself frustrating. There was no reason to cry, even if this holiday wasn’t working out at all like Hilda had wanted. Everything kept going wrong. She really didn’t mean to lie to her mom, but the thought of telling her the truth about how distant she was growing from her friends made her stomach knot. Was this the new normal? Everyone moving so fast they left Hilda behind? Even her mom seemed to be moving ahead now. Or maybe it wasn’t that they were moving faster than her, just that she was moving in a different direction. That didn’t make her feel any better. She just felt so helpless. With every other big problem in her life, she always had a clear solution to work towards, or at least something to do. Even during her time as a troll, she’d had things she could work towards. With this there wasn’t a clear step to take. As she lay there, definitely not crying, a thought did occur to her. Maybe, instead of stubbornly demanding that things stay the same, she could try going the same direction. It was hard to swallow, but she did now admit to herself it was probably selfish of her to want her friends to spend time doing the things she wanted instead of pursuing what they wanted. David clearly loved acting and singing, and he was really good at it. Maybe she could join David’s next production. Some musical she hadn’t heard of before. David had already gotten the lead in it of course, but the actual show wasn’t for a few months. Auditions were still open until next week though, and she was a decent singer. Although she had never formally tried acting, she felt like she could do pretty good. The thought of her weekends and being soaked up by constant rehearsals sounded dreadful, but she could do it. She would be giving up her days to explore, but she would gain time with her friend. That sounded alright to her. And maybe she could join ‘witch school’ with Frida. She wasn’t as inclined to the studying lifestyle, but clearly she had the ability to cast spells. Although, thinking back to the last time she’d messed with magic… maybe better to leave that to Frida. But maybe there was something she could do to help her study. She was her familiar after all. She sat up from the bed Before she could think about that any further, her eyes fell on the brown envelope. She had completely forgotten about it. She rose from the bed and sat at the desk. She finished opening it, and pulled out two papers. The first, appeared to be an old tourist map of the area. The second was a small note. It read “Come visit me. It is urgent. Come alone.” There were some symbols above and below the words that she didn’t know. One of them sort of looked like an S on its side with a line through it, but the ones below just appeared to be random squiggles. The letters were large with a flowy script, unlike anything she had seen before. It almost looked like the font a billboard for jewelry might use, but more feral, more wild. The letters finished in unexpected strokes, and they had random loops or lines drawn through them. It was quite beautiful, and she simply stared at it for a moment. She then flipped the note over, looking for more of the beautiful worlds, but there was nothing else on it. She then inspected the map. It was definitely old. The paper had lost most of its rigidity, and the fold lines were so creased it didn’t want to open fully anymore. She was afraid it would crumble to dust as she opened it, but using as much care and patience she could muster, eventually got it open. The map didn’t show much, except a particular mountain was circled, with an arrow leading from trollberg. The mountain didn’t even have a name, and there didn’t seem to be anything special about it. It didn’t even appear to have a forest ranger cabin on it. Looking at the map though, there was a road that led most of the way there. Who was it from? She didn’t know anyone who lived that far away. The trolls never went very far from the trollberg valley. Woodman didn’t seem to either. She didn’t know where the Raven lived, but it didn’t seem like he would live on a lonely mountain peak in the middle of nowhere. Even if it was the Raven, Hilda didn’t think he knew how to write. She needed a second pair of eyes for this. She peeked out her door A few minutes later, she again sat at the desk with Alfur, as he studied to note and the map. “This is definitely unorthodox. No return address and no stamp, why, it’s a postal massacre!” He shook his head in disgust. “I seriously doubt that even the Trollberg post would have delivered it. Somebody must have slipped it in the mail slot directly.”
Hilda pondered on that. It made sense. She had never heard of the post delivering an unmarked letter. As much as Alfur doubted the Trollberg post, Hilda had always found them to be reliable, if a bit slow. “Tontu.” she called. “Was this letter with the rest of the mail, or did it come separately?” After a small, but noticeable, delay Tontu popped out from under her bed. He looked at the letter. “Oh that one.” He looked up at Hilda. “It came before the rest of the mail, maybe 10 minutes before.” With that, he popped right back under the bed. His answer just raised more questions than answers. Was this a prank? Maybe Trevor thought it would be funny to see her wander the woods for a few days? But no, Trevor had been in class with her all afternoon. So what, this mysterious sender came to Trollberg and dropped the letter off, then left? Why not just stick around and talk here? It didn’t make any sense. Alfur spoke up again, drawing her attention.
“This map is old. They haven’t printed one of this style for nearly 30 years.” Hilda raised an eyebrow at that. It wasn’t that she was surprised per se, in fact it was completely on brand for Alfur to, apparently, memorize every map the Trollberg cartographers had printed in the past 30 years. However, she was struck yet again with just how odd the elves were. “What about the note Alfur? What do you make of it?”
He went over to the note. “Well it’s certainly not from an elf.” He gave a small chuckle at that. “And this writing is strange, I don’t think I've seen anything quite like it. These symbols seem familiar, and unless I miss my guess they are in the language of spirits. Although I have no idea what they say. Most likely a signature of some sort.”
“Spirit?” Hilda asked, growing excited. “Like the wood man?”
“Not exactly. Spirit is a very broad term, and it’s used to describe all sorts of creatures, usually inaccurately. I wrote a whole paper about this several years ago, very fascinating.”
“Could you give me just the short version for now.” Hilda asked. She really didn’t want to sit through a couple hours of proper spirit identification.
Alfur sighed. “Yes, very well. Wood man is a type of spirit, but he’s the type that stays entirely in our world. Water spirits, weather spirits, and our good friend are all bound to our reality at all times. A physical spirit you might say. Then there's the kind of spirit that only visits at a certain time or place, or when summoned. The ghosts in the graveyard are a good example of those. They aren’t fully in our world anymore. Then there's the spirits that don’t really seem to be in our world at all. Very rare to see any sign of one, I know of only a handful of recorded experiences. It seems that the rest of the deerfox might be of this variety, though they’ve never been known to leave these symbols. Other spirits of this type have been, even with the limited experiences. Why one would want you to travel to a mountain alone, I couldn’t guess.”
Hilda didn’t have a guess either, and her first instinct was still to rush out the door and head for the mountain. She thanked Alfur for his input and he left with a yawn. Hilda needed time to mull this over. A mysterious note sent by an otherworldly spirit? This was exactly the kind of thing she’d been wanting. The thing she’d been longing for. Her mom would never let her, but she could just tell her she was going to visit the trolls. Tomorrow was Friday, meaning she didn’t have school until Monday. Her mom wouldn’t have a problem. That would mean lying to her though. Would she lie to Johanna just to go on an adventure? She had done it before, without a second thought. That was before though. She was different now, right? She had seen first hand the consequences of her actions. Hadn’t she learned? Even still, the call of adventure was strong. Strong enough to make her rationalize lying to her mother. Strong enough to make her want to run out into the woods for several days alone. She was battling with herself. Balancing on a fence, one push needed to shove her off either side. Logically, she knew it was stupid to travel alone in the wilderness for days. Part of her didn’t care. Part of her just wanted the thrill of the adventure. That scared her. That fear pushed off the fence, on the side of prudence. She clenched her jaw, and threw the note and map into the small garbage bin under her desk. Her decision was made, so she got ready for bed. As she crawled under the covers, she hoped she made the correct one.

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Hilda had to admit, even alone the Bird parade was exciting. As much as she had been dreading it, it wasn’t as bad as she had feared. It was still fun to see the sights, and now that she had a little bit of money (despite the residual guilt she still felt) she could even explore the booths! Well, assuming she could even get to them. Hundreds of people milled in every direction, blocking easy access to any shop she might want to go to. Most of the festival booths were in this central plaza, on both sides of the wide street but she knew there would be a couple booths set up on adjacent streets. Currently the street was completely packed in, but once the floats came through the actual road would clear up. She saw people she knew, and people she’d never even seen before. She didn’t think she had ever seen so many people in one place. Surely even Trollberg didn’t have this many people. She saw red haired fishermen chatting with some off duty safety patrol officers. She even saw the purple haired figure of Kaisa the librarian at a stand down the street. It was pretty uncommon to see her out of the library, but apparently even witches like to have a day off. She tried to wrestle her way through the crowd towards her friend, but it was slow going. She bumped into someone as they moved unexpectedly, and of course their basket spilled dozens of items on the ground. By the time she had apologized profusely, and helped them put all their items back in the basket, Kaisa had disappeared. Of course. She headed back towards the center of the plaza, but after enduring the slow shuffle of the crowd, she decided to take one of the side streets. She found a few booths near the entrance that looked interesting. The first booth had an assortment of candles, all with unusual scents. She almost used some of her money on the one labeled as “troll spit”, because it was surprisingly accurate. In the end however, she decided she wanted to use her money on something less disgusting. The next booth was selling some sort of fried dough, with several different syrup flavors to choose from. The price wasn’t bad, and soon she was munching on a strawberry syrup coated pastry. Most of the booths after that were also selling some variety of food, so she skipped them until she came across a booth selling books. She took a look, very careful to not get any of her food on the collection. It appeared to mostly be old histories about the Trollberg area. Some dating back before Trollberg had been officially founded. She didn’t see anything she was too interested in until she came across a particular green leather bound book. The title was in gold embossed lettering: ‘A tale of Dragons’. That did sound exciting. It did seem strange that a book about dragons was mixed into a collection of history books. She, of course, knew that dragons weren’t real, but there was nothing wrong with a good fantasy novel. The price was steep, but Hilda decided to splurge. Except, the kindly woman running the booth wouldn’t sell it to her. She simply squinted at Hilda while adjusting her glasses. She finally just said
“I think you’re a little young for this book.”
Hilda tried to argue with her, but she would have none of it, so eventually Hilda left. Unfortunately, the further she went from the plaza the booths became less and less interesting. Little plastic trinkets and old bags of snacks were all she saw. She was about to head back towards the plaza when she thought she recognized a voice coming from one of the last booths in line. She walked a little closer, and she fully recognized the voice. It was coming from the last booth on the far side. Incredulous, she ran forward, unable to believe what she was hearing. She got close enough that she could peer in, and there he was. Erik Ahlberg in the flesh, behind the counter of a blue and gold festival booth. She wouldn’t have recognized him without the sound of his voice. He was wearing…well, ordinary clothes. A plain long sleeved shirt and jeans, with a regular baseball cap on. In place of the wiry mustache, he now wore a wispy goatee. She stood there, trying to wrap her head around what she was seeing. She hadn't ever seen him without the safety patrol uniform, much less out running a festival booth. In fact, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him at all ever since he stepped down as head of safety patrol. His booth didn’t have any description above, and from this distance she couldn’t tell what he was selling. There was a man on the other side of the counter, and they were haggling over the price of whatever Erik was selling. Moving closer, she saw that his booth was filled with carvings and sculptures. Some were amateur, little more than suggestive blobs. But others were masterful works of art, intricate carvings or statues of all sorts of creatures. She drew a little closer, trying to get a better look. One in particular especially caught her eye. It was a miniature statue of Trundle the troll. At about 8 inches tall, it was the tallest figurine in the line up but 2-3 inches. It towered over the rest of the carvings, much the same way the troll himself had towered over the city. it was incredibly detailed, it even managed to capture the grin he had given moments before his death. Surely Erik Ahlberg of all people hadn’t made these. He was a power hungry idiot who only cared about how he compared to his long dead ancestors. So what, he bought these to sell in a side street during a festival? That didn’t really make sense either. What was he up to? She should probably keep an eye on him. Just as she thought that, the customer finally seemed to make a decision, as the man finally forked over the cash for his item and left. Erik put the cash in his money box, but then he noticed Hilda standing a few feet away. He didn’t say anything at first, seeming surprised to see her. He glanced around and gave a nervous chuckle, but he finally looked back at her and said “Hello, Hilda.”
Hilda didn’t say anything back, she just narrowed her eyes at him. He was certainly acting suspicious. She did walk closer however, mostly just to get a closer look at all the figurines. They were set out all along the entire table, and they went from low quality to incredible pieces. The statue of trundle was close to the middle, and was by far the largest. Most of the others were only 2-3 inches tall, but still very detailed. Erik noticed how she looked at the collection.
“Impressive, ay?” Hilda walked right up to the table, and picked up a small wooden carving of a deer. “Where did you get these?”
Erik puffed out his chest, in a very familiar way. “Get them? No! I made them!”
“You.” Hilda said flatly “Made these.” She held up the small deer.
“Why of course! What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”
Hilda simply shrugged. She honestly hadn’t really thought about him after he stepped down. She set down the deer, and moved over to the Trundle statue. Erik slid over to it as well.
“You expect me to believe you made this? The troll hating Erik Ahlbreg?” He picked the statue. “Well I hardly think that's fair! This is some of my best work right here! I had to rush to get it done in time for the parade, but I think it turned out perfect. A fitting homage.” He gave another chuckle, but this one sounded forced, and his chest deflated just a little. He still held the statue and he stared at it for a long time. The look he gave it was…remorseful? Surely Hilda was reading it wrong. He eventually set it down with a sigh, and he deflated further. Hilda was still suspicious, but that look seemed to be genuine to her, which just confused her more.
“I can understand why you wouldn’t believe me. After all the things I've done…Well, I wouldn’t believe it either. But I wasn’t always like that. I actually ran a little shop, selling trinkets like these. It must have been, what, 12 years ago now? It didn’t bring in much business, but I enjoyed it.”
“So what happened to it? What happened to you?”
“I was young and stupid. I let my family name get to me, sold the shop and signed up for security patrol. I used my name to get into higher and higher positions until I finally got the head position, and, well, you know the rest.” He gave a shrug. “I really should thank you, you know? For popping my ego, and showing me how wrong I was.”
Hilda was stunned. Was she dreaming again? But no, she was wide awake. Surely this was some trick, like with Van Gale. Could he really have changed? She didn’t really want that to be the case. Erik Ahlberg stood for everything she hated about Trollberg. But didn’t everyone deserve the chance to change? After a moment (she had to say something) she just lamely said “You’re welcome.” He visibly relaxed, as if a weight had been taken off of him. He gave her a grin. Not the fake one she was used to seeing in all the press conferences. A real smile. That convinced her. She smiled back. He puffed up his chest again, but then suddenly his expression changed, as if he had just remembered something. He snapped his fingers “Oh! Wait, just a minute!” He ducked back into the tent, and she heard him rummage around for a couple minutes. He eventually came back out and he had something held in his hand, one of his figurines. But she recognized this one. It was her. But not as she was now, it was her as a troll! It was very detailed, especially since he had only seen her in the troll body once, for no more than a couple minutes. He held it up with pride. “This is the first one I made after my retirement. I think it’s one of my best.” He handed it to her. “I think it’s fitting that you have it.” “Oh… wow. This is incredible!” Hilda stood there admiring the figure. She tried to give him some of her cash but it instantly put his hand up in refusal.
“I insist. It is a gift. Please accept it, with my deepest gratitude.” He then gave her a sharp salute. She laughed, and gave her best salute back. She thanked him, and said goodbye. She walked a little ways down the street, and then stopped to take a proper look at the figurine. It was carved out of wood, and painted stone gray, except for the blue hair. The little troll version of herself wore a smile, and stood with arms at her sides. Each of the hands had individual fingers, so small she was afraid they would fall right off. It had intricate patterns carved all across the body. Spirals that led to more spirals, inside of spirals. It was hard to tell where one started and where one ended. It was larger than most of the others, maybe 3 and a half inches tall. She wasn’t sure what to do with it. It seemed so delicate, she was worried it would break if she put it in her pocket. She very carefully wrapped it in her scarf, and then reverently placed it in her bag. Hopefully that would cushion it enough. She walked back along the street until she popped back out into the plaza, and luckily the crowds had diminished. The floats had probably started on the main thoroughfare. She went to the booths she had seen earlier, but didn’t find anything as interesting as Erik’s collection. She did stop at the sparrow scout stand and got some broth. The kids running it looked so young. Surely she hadn’t looked that childish when she was running it. She heard bells in the distance, signifying the start of the parade proper. She sipped on her broth as she made her way to the customary viewing spot. It was the same place her mother had shown her at their first parade in Trollberg, an old thick wall separating the main street from the alleyway. She climbed onto the wall, and slung her legs over the side, still nursing the delicious broth bowl. She sat for a while, watching the usual floats go by. With a moment of distress, she found that she wasn’t excited by them anymore. She could remember seeing them and being enthralled, but now that she was here again, she realized that they were just the same old floats as last year. Even the parade, it seemed, was starting to fall into a routine. The same floats in the same order every year. She sat and stewed on the depressing thought until eventually she saw the float with the student choir come around the bend. This finally pulled her out of her melancholy mood. She could see David’s pale face from where she was sitting, which made her chuckle. He was wearing a ridiculous looking pale yellow suit, with orange and red feathers ornamenting the arms and sides. The float drew closer until it was right in front of her. She hurriedly stood up and started waving at David, but his eyes were glued at the drop below him. His mouth was moving, but she doubted he was singing very well, which was a shame. He really did have a gift for singing. She cupped her mouth and started yelling, trying to get his attention.
“DAVID!” DAAAAVID!” Somehow, he seemed to hear that over the sound of the crowd and music, he looked around for a moment, but then focused on Hilda. She gave a wave, then two thumbs up. He nervously gave a thumbs up back. She motioned breathing in and out -that usually helped calm him down- and then pointed to her feet, showing a wide stance to help him keep balance. He nodded, and closed his eyes. After a second, he squatted slightly, moving his feet further apart. His eyes opened, and he pointedly did not look down. He sucked in a deep breath and sang. She could pick out his voice from the others on the float, and he sounded great. He was clearly still nervous, but David never let anything interfere with his performance once he started. She watched the float go, and eventually sat back down. The parade continued for a while, but Hilda had long since lost interest. She now mostly watched the sky, hoping to glimpse the Raven. The sky was starting to go into the deep orange that signified sunset. Like the sun wanted to remind everyone that it was still here, demanding their attention until it finally faded away, and was forgotten until the morning. She noticed people in the crowd periodically peering upwards, also getting excited in anticipation. The energy of the crowd, which had started to dwindle as the day went on, was starting to come back, as people began waiting for the main event. The last of the floats went by, and people started slowly filling in the rest of the street. She saw more and more people wearing festive bird themed costumes. She had seen some people wearing them earlier, but only the most dedicated would wear it all day long. Most waited until the evening to don the attire. Time seemed to crawl as the crowd collectively waited. Sunset was the earliest the Raven would come, and he usually came well after the sun had set, but most still waited, staring intently at the sky as if they would miss it if they so much as blinked. Hilda knew the Raven would fly above the city for a good 5 minutes, making sure everyone had a chance to see, so she wasn’t worried about missing it. In fact, she was still a bit hungry, so she decided to get some more festival food before everything shut down. It took her longer than expected, because of how thick the crowds were but about 30 minutes later she again sat atop the wall, with a street burrito now in hand. She munched on it in silence as she resumed the wait. The sky was now an explosion of deep blues and purples, with the occasional orange cloud to break up the color wash. It was getting darker by the minute, and as she watched the street lamps illuminated, one after another. She saw a figure making his way through the crowd and was surprised to see David awkwardly pushing through the crowd towards her perch. He had dropped the yellow suit in favor of a more regular outfit of long sleeve shirt and jeans. He eventually made it to the foot of the wall.
“David! What are you doing here? Don’t you have to help clean up the float?”
He grinned back up at her. “They said we can do it tomorrow, since they thought the Raven would be coming any minute. My parents aren’t here yet, so I figured I’d come join you for a minute.” He started trying to climb the wall, but he was clearly incapable of actually scaling it. She covered a smile by taking another bite of her food, then set it down and leaned over to help pull him up. After a bit of struggle he sat next to her.
“Thanks for the help.” He laughed as he scratched the back of his head.
“Well as funny as it was to watch you flounder down there, I think it would be a bit mean to just sit and laugh.” She said, as she took another bite of her food. They sat in silence as she munched, and after she swallowed she said “You did really good up there, very good imitation of a bird.” He laughed. “Yeah I’m not sure what they were thinking with that costume. Not fair that I was the only one who had to suffer it.”
“Oh? So you didn’t beg them to let you wear it?”
He gave her a flat look.
“Even I wouldn’t wear that willingly.”
Hilda laughed at that. Before she could continue the conversation, she remembered the carving she had in her bag. “Oh David! Look at this!” She scooted over to her bag, which she had leaned against the nearby wall. She carefully opened it and pulled out the small troll version of herself and showed it to David.
“Wow! That’s incredible! Who is it?”
Now it was Hilda’s turn to give a flat look. “It’s me. When I was a troll.”
“Ahhh… yeah I remember now. Did you make this?”
“No! That’s the craziest part! Erik Ahlberg made it.”
David let out a booming laugh.
“Erik Ahlberg? That’s a good one Hilda!”
“No David, I’m serious.” She relayed the strange encounter to David, and by the end he was ruefully shaking his head.
“He must be up to something. This has got to be a trick, just like Van Gale.” She didn’t know how to feel about the fact that David had also drawn that conclusion.
“I don’t know David. He seemed genuine. And look at this!” She held up the figure “this must have taken hours, maybe days to make! And there were dozens of them. If it is some sort of trick, why would you go to this much effort? And to accomplish what?”
David shrugged. “I’m not sure Hilda, but it just feels weird.” Hilda shrugged back. She carefully put the figure away, and looked back over the crowd. The sky had fully gone dark now, and most people had found somewhere to sit now. She heard music coming from somewhere down the street, and the entire area was filled with the sound of soft laughter and conversation. The area was packed, and most sat staring up. She glanced up, but didn’t see anything. David looked up with her. “I guess he’s taking his time this year.” Hilda didn’t reply. She was already starting to worry, which was silly. Last year he hadn’t shown up for hours after sunset. He still had plenty of time. “I’m sure he’ll show up soon. Maybe he’ll take us for another ride.” David adopted a nervous look. And Hilda smiled. “I won’t drag you along if you don't want to come.” David relaxed at that and smiled back. Hilda and long since stopped trying to push him to do things he was uncomfortable with. She used to think he just needed to face his fears and he would get over them, but David wasn’t the kind of person to stop worrying about something simply because he’d done it before. He also wasn’t a coward, she had seen him risk his life for his friends several times. He just wasn’t as headstrong as she was, which was probably for the best. They laughed and joked for a time, but eventually David spotted his parents wandering through the crowd. He gave his farewell and very carefully got down from the wall and dashed off to join them. Again Hilda sat alone atop the wall. It was maybe an hour after sunset, and the crowd had thinned slightly. As she watched she saw people stand and yawn, slowly trailing away from the street. She watched for a few more minutes, but decided she wanted a better view of the sky, so she hopped down and wandered back to the main plaza. She found a spot that wasn’t too crowded, and sat, then laid back staring at the sky. Time passed quickly, as she lay, lost in thought. She periodically looked around, and each time she did, she saw less and less people. She glanced at the nearby clock tower and was shocked to see how late it was. He should have appeared by now. She was starting to get really nervous now, and looking around it seemed everyone who remained shared her sentiment. The roar of conversation was now a dull murmur, with the occasional nervous chuckle to break it up. Apparently she wasn’t the only one to start worrying. The night carried on, with each passing minute more people leaving, and those who remained talking less and less. Still no raven. It was less of a crowd now, more of a cluster of only the most hopeful. The street was slowly emptying, as people quietly rushed to their homes. The night seemed to grow cold, and then even the most hopeful left, leaving Hilda alone in a once busy plaza. The only sound now was the sound of the wind rustling the debris left by the people. Why hadn’t he come? And more importantly, did it have something to do with the cryptic letter she had received? A strange letter arriving and then the Raven not showing up the next day? Surely it couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? What was the big deal anyway? The Raven didn’t actually control the fortune of the year. That didn’t reassure her. The Raven wouldn’t have missed this unless he was unable. Maybe he was hurt. Maybe he was dead! She squashed that real quick. He was fine, he probably just got the date mixed up, or got sick or something. She started the long walk, but froze when she saw the time on a nearby clock tower. Surely it couldn’t be that late! She started sprinting down the street, heading for home. Her mother was going to let her have it. She was hours late. Several minutes later, she arrived home, out of breath. She had ran the entire way, not that it would matter. Once you were as late as she was, the difference of a few minutes suddenly didn’t matter much. Still, she dashed up the stairs. She stopped in front of the door, then dreading the inevitable, slowly opened the door. She already knew where her mother would be sitting. She would be at the kitchen table, opposite her. She would have a cup of tea in hand, and have a scowl ready. She stepped through the doorway, excuses ready.
“Mom I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize how la-!” She cut off when she realized that she was speaking to an empty room. She looked around confused. No mom, no tea, no scowl. She wasn’t on the couch either. Had she gone to bed? Looking down the hall, she saw that her mothers door was closed, so she could be in there asleep. Walking back to the kitchen she noticed a note sitting on the table. “Hilda, I’m turning in early, there’s some leftovers in the fridge. Make sure you lock up. Love mom”. Hilda put the note down and just stood. Waiting for…something. Was she really not going to get in trouble for staying out this late? She should have felt relieved, but she instead felt cheated, in a way she couldn’t fully describe. She obviously didn’t want to get into trouble, and this was a huge relief. But she did feel like something was missing. Eventually, without anything else to do, she locked the door, turned out the light, and went to her room. Now that the impending doom she had been expecting had been avoided, her anxiety for the Raven crashed back tenfold. She hurriedly dug the note and map out of the trash. She wanted to grab a couple supplies and run out the door. But no. It wouldn’t do any good to run off in the middle of the night, she would be grounded for a month when she got back. She would wait for the morning, and convince her mom it was important. She was pretty sure she could get there and back by Monday, maybe Tuesday at the latest. It would be a hard sell, her mother wouldn’t like it at all, but she had to try. She set her alarm early, wincing at the little sleep she would be getting. With that she hopped into bed. As she lay down the full weight of the day seemed to crash down onto her all at once, and she felt exhausted. Sleep was, as ever, elusive. How would she convince her mother to let her run off into the woods? What had happened to the Raven? How would she even be able to help? These questions haunted her, as she finally drifted off into a turbulent sleep.

Her alarm shattered the early morning serenity like the first gunshot breaking over a battlefield. She sat up with a groan. Even knowing the important reasons she had awoken this early, she still felt like rolling over and sleeping for the rest of the day. But no. She gritted her teeth, and turned the alarm off. She sluggishly climbed out of bed and got dressed. She prepared her arguments in her head, and again set her jaw. She would convince her mother no matter what. She grabbed the note and map and walked out. She marched out of her room, and into the hallway, wearing a determined expression that was matched only by her confident gait. She saw her mother, she was standing by the couch, looking at the news on the TV. A reporter was relaying the events, or lack thereof, in a reassuring way. This was good for Hilda, her mom had already been caught up with what happened last night. Johanna turned as Hilda approached, a worried look on her face. She plastered on a smile as she saw Hilda, probably trying to reassure her.
“Oh! Good morning Hilda. My, you’re up early today.”
“Well, there’s a lot to do today, and I wanted to talk to you before you left.”
Johanna glanced back to the TV where they were now discussing the reasons the Raven hadn’t shown up. “
I suppose you already know that the Raven didn’t show up last night.” She sighed “I wouldn’t worry, he’s been late by a day or two in the past.” Apparently her mother had already guessed that Hilda would want to do something about the situation, so she was trying to placate her. Her mother really knew her well. Hilda had debated with herself about the best way to broach the topic, and she had decided that a direct and confident approach would be best. Leave no room for argument, and make the course of action clear.
“No, he is not ok. The Raven is in trouble. He sent me a letter the other day, and I need to go help him.” She held up the note and map, to cut off any reply. “I need to pack a few things, and grab Twig, and then I’ll be off. I can be there and back before school.” She said it all as fast as she could, leaving no room for her mother to voice an objection. Johanna, in turn, didn’t look like she had even heard her daughter's outburst. She was staring intently at the note in Hilda’s outstretched hand. Her face betrayed no expression, but she couldn’t hide how pale she had gone. She hesitantly reached out and took the note from Hilda, still not looking away. She looked at the note for a long time. Hilda shuffled uncomfortably. This was certainly an unforeseen outcome, but she could work with this. “So… I’ll just go start packing then…” She started sliding over towards the door of the storage room. Her mothers head suddenly snapped up. “Yes of course! Let’s get you packed.” She quickly walked past Hilda and threw the door to the storage room open, leaving Hilda stunned. “What?” That had worked?
Her mother was now rummaging, pulling some of the camping supplies out.
Hilda got over her momentary stupor and ran up to her. “You’re letting me go?”
“Oh yes, it’s very important. The Raven clearly needs your help. Have you seen the flashlight?”
Hilda just blinked. She really hadn’t expected this to work. If she was being honest, she had expected hours of argument followed by her being forced to sneak out later. Again though, she felt strangely cheated. She tried to shrug the feeling off, as she helped pack a bag.
Roughly an hour later, Hilda stood in front of the Trollberg wall, Twig at her side, and Johanna adjusting her bag. “You remember the route?” Hilda nodded in reply. It was a really simple route. There was a hiking path near the main northern road that went almost all the way to the mountain. Johanna looked back at the car. “Are you sure I can’t drive you there?”
“It says I have to go alone, and you can’t miss work for that long on short notice.”
“What about Twig?” Johanna glanced down at Hilda’s fluffy companion.
“The Raven knows that I would never go anywhere without him.”
Her mother looked off into the distance. “The Raven…right.” She finally looked back and reluctantly nodded in agreement.
Hilda almost wished she would push harder. Now that she was actually here, the prospect of hiking cross country basically alone for 2 days was daunting. Not that she was scared, she was a brave adventurer! But maybe it would be nice to have someone to talk to. So it wouldn’t be so boring. That was the only reason. They said (very drawn out) goodbyes, and Johanna hopped back in the car and drove back into the city. Hilda watched until it was out of view, and then looked out, ready for adventure.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

The sun peeked over the horizon, shining across the Trollberg valley. Harold, despite his best efforts, awoke. He groaned, and tried shutting his eyes to no avail. He was already awake. He sat up, and swung his legs out of bed. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, trying to shake the grogginess. His room was still completely dark, courtesy of the thick blinds he kept on the bedroom window. He walked over and opened them, which did little to brighten the room. His window faced away from the sun, not to mention that there was a 30 foot wall directly behind his house. Yes, it wasn’t the light that had awoken him, his body simply knew that the sun was rising, and that he should be awake. So here he was, awake at an ungodly hour, after watching the wall half the night. He sluggishly made a cup of coffee, and then a second and third for good measure. He needed to be awake today. Today was important. Today was Hilda’s 14th birthday, which meant he needed to get her to visit the dragon. Or, he was pretty sure it was. He knew her birthday was in April, and knew it had a 4 in it somewhere. Today was the 14th of April, and that felt right. Kona had said it only needed to be around the time she turned 14, so a day or two’s difference probably didn’t matter. Hopefully. He let out a long sigh, and not for the first time, cursed himself for being such an idiot.

How could you forget your own daughter's birthday?

Well it wasn’t like he was some sort of upstanding father. The first time he had seen Hilda here in Trollberg he hadn’t even recognized her. In fact, he hadn’t recognized her until that day he saw her with Johanna. He looked to the wall where a small dusty photograph hung. Truthfully, he hadn’t really thought about it until recently. He had been haunted by the choice he made when he first moved here, so he had tried his best to forget about the family he had abandoned, deciding he could deal with the dragon, and Hilda when the time came. But now the time had come, and he had forgotten. His time had come too, in a way. His time in this place. There was no reason to stay after today. He had done his best to minimize the harm he could do with his curse, but even living as secluded as he did he couldn’t stop everything. Luckily nothing as harmful as the crash that had killed his father, or the sickness that had nearly taken Hilda. Although the day on the bell control tower still haunted him. That day could have been a disaster, but he had gotten lucky. He couldn’t be lucky forever though. He couldn’t risk anything else happening to them, so he was leaving.

It was hard to say, even to himself. This valley was his home. When he was younger he had dreamed of leaving. To escape the dreary city and his angry home. Something had changed though, as he grew up. By the time he was old enough to leave, he had found he didn’t want to. He knew that there were amazing things out in the world, things that would make Trollberg look dull in comparison. But still, this was his home. For better or for worse, this place would always be a part of him. He felt a connection to it that he couldn’t quite describe. He felt like he could hear the mountains sing during a beautiful sunset, could feel the ocean rage down in the bay during a nasty storm, or see the forest mourn when an old tree fell. He knew it was silly, and he was probably just projecting to make up for the lack of human connection he had.

The imagination of a lonely old man. He had never thought he could feel lonely. He had always done his best to get away from people, whether it was hiding in a secret library room, or running through the woods. But at the end of the day, he’d always gone home. Now here he was, alone. He had long since come to terms with his life, and in a way he had come to enjoy his life. In the way a peasant could live next to the king's castle, always knowing that something better lay just out of reach. It hadn’t been a bad life per se. He had all the time in the world, and he hadn’t wasted it. He had filled several books up with notes about the native plants and animals, and he plans to go through them and publish them someday. He had taken up guitar and was fairly good now. When he put it like that, it almost didn’t sound completely pointless.

Not a day had gone by that he hadn’t questioned his decision. Was this really the best outcome? Him living a life of self imposed solitude? Johanna forced to raise their daughter alone? Hilda consigned to whatever the dragon was going to do? Could he have done something different, or tried harder to better handle the situation? He told himself this was how it had to be, but he didn’t believe it. Not really. In some other reality, he knew there was a version of himself that was happy with his family. How do you live with yourself, knowing that you made the wrong decision, and that nothing you could ever do would fix it?

He had pondered that question for 12 long years, and still had no answer. He fixed himself a modest breakfast of a fried egg, and the last bit of crumbs from a box of crackers. He hadn’t gone shopping recently, on account of his plan to be gone by now. But Hilda had taken her sweet time. He had assumed she would leave the day he had dropped the note off, but she hadn’t actually left until yesterday morning. Another thing he hadn’t planned for. He cleaned up after his meal, and went back to his room to get dressed. Boots, jeans, red safety patrol uniform, and yellow jacket to go over it. Not the same as the jacket he had left behind, but close enough. He had seen it in a store around the time he had moved here, and couldn’t resist. It was the only thing he had kept from his previous look. His once short cut hair was now almost shoulder long and untamed. In place of his once neat mustache sat a shaggy beard. Maybe he didn’t need to worry about being recognized, he doubted anybody would recognize him like this. Maybe he didn’t need to leave after all. It would be so easy to just do nothing. The path of least resistance. It called to him like the siren's song. He couldn’t risk it. He wouldn’t throw away 12 years for a moment of weakness now. He pushed aside the song of the siren as it was, and walked to the door, leaving the silent home.

He walked out into a beautiful clearing, the song of several birds greeting him. He took a deep breath in, getting the scents of morning. Dewy grass, and fresh soil mixed with the scent of pine. He loved his little cottage, as lonely as it was. Almost, he could pretend he was out in the true wilderness, away from the city. As long as he could ignore the 30 foot high wall directly behind him. And even ignoring that, he could just barely see the tips of the taller building peeking out over the tree line. But it was still the best place in town. He walked down the path that led down through the sparse Trollberg forest. He walked slowly, unhurried. He was going to meet with Gerda, the commander of the safety patrol, and resign. He had no official meeting scheduled, so he had no reason to hurry. His house was on the very edge of the eastern wall, which happened to be the furthest away from the town proper. The city was slowly creeping this way, but it would be years yet before there was a house within sight of his humble cottage. Not that he would be around to see it.

Thoughts like that kept popping up and dampening his mood, which was frustrating. Couldn’t he just enjoy the time he had left, instead of constantly worrying about how little time he had left? Well, if it hadn’t changed by this point in Harold's life, it probably never would. Grim thoughts for an otherwise beautiful morning stroll. He walked through the ‘forest’, mind wandering as much as his body. He eventually reached the edge of the trees, and found a large open field ahead of him. If he continued forward he would hit the outskirts of town. This wasn’t his destination, he was headed to the safety patrol base on top of the large hill to his right. The base had experienced rapid growth during Ahlberg’s leadership, but that had ended when he retired. Most of the volunteers had left with him, so the base was in a bit of a state of disrepair, with only a skeleton crew to run it. He walked through the front gates after waving at the gate guard. He returned a crisp salute, which just made Harold roll his eyes. Apparently he was one of the most experienced members of the safety patrol, and Gerda had given him the rank of ‘senior patrol officer’ which was apparently quite high. The endless salutes and ‘sir’s he got was annoying to no end though. He was just a bell keeper, not some military general.

He walked through the base, enduring the salute he received with only the occasional groan. He eventually reached the main building. This is where officers met to receive missions, or to relay intel. The ‘missions’ were usually nothing more than a cat stuck in a tree, or some similar trivial matter. He was supposed to send in a weekly report about the wall, but after the 3rd consecutive year of absolutely nothing, he had stopped bothering. He walked through the main floor, and asked the secretary if the commander was in. The secretary, a short, sweaty man with wispy hair told him that she was. So he walked up the stairs to the second floor, and went straight down the hallway, heading towards the ornate door at the end of it. He reached the door and raised his hand to open it, but paused when he heard muffled voices coming from behind it. He couldn’t quite make it out, something about ‘dire consequences’ and ‘the last warning’. He rolled his eyes. Undoubtedly some minor politician trying to make waves. So, without knocking, he opened the door into a plain looking office. The gray carpet was so dull it made the white walls look colorful. It had no windows, and no decorations. ‘A place to work should have no distractions’ as Gerda always said. Gerda herself sat at a nice looking, but very plain wooden desk, back straight, gloved hands clasped in front of her. She always wore a full field uniform, despite the fact that she rarely got out of the office these days. Her face, that usually held a cheerful smile, now wore a stern scowl, and was in the middle of whatever she had been saying.

“-simply cannot open the city's emergency food supplies to dump down some magical pit!” The cause of her scowl, and the recipients of her words, were three very odd looking women sitting across from her. Only one sat, in the middle, with the other two flanking her on both sides, despite the plethora of available chairs. She had dark gray hair, with deep reddish orange streaks on both sides. As he watched the hair started moving as if something was hiding inside. Just as he thought that, a small bird popped out, and blinked at him. He just raised an eyebrow back. The one standing nearest him wore a stiff black suit and had hair cut short. It was half white and half of that same reddish orange color. She too, wore a scowl, but this one looked a bit more permanent. The woman farthest from him wore a long black dress, and had the same hair as the first standing woman, but wore it long instead. She was responding to Gerda

“This is an emergency! Does the absence of the Great Raven mean nothing to you? Have we not been clear about the disast-?”

The woman sitting raised her hand, cutting her off. “That’s enough Abigail. We’ve wasted enough time” She, without any warning, snapped her head over, looking to where Harold stood, hand still on the door knob.

“And who are you now?” A second bird popped out of her hair on the other side, and also fixed its eyes on him. He just raised his other eyebrow at it. Gerda was looking at him too.

“Oh! This is my senior patrol officer, and I’m afraid I must excuse myself so that I can get his report. Very important stuff.”

She gave him a look that said ‘just go with it’ so he gave a small sigh and said

“Yes, chief, I have a, um… lot of stuff to tell you about. Lots of er… things… happening…”

She subtly motioned for him to go on.

“Yes, things on the…wall that, uhm, require your, uh, attention…”

The woman with the birds just gave him a blank stare. He was terrible at improvising.

“Yes. Clearly you have much to discuss.”

She said it, her voice dripping with sarcasm, clearly not fooled by the lame attempt.

She looked back at Gerda with a stern look, but Harold saw Gerda rolling her eyes.

She then waved her hand, and the woman on her right, Abigail, pulled out a black rose. She gave it a simple wave, then, all three of them vanished into thin air. He just blinked at the now empty chairs. Sure. Why not? He shook his head, and shut the door behind him, finally stepping fully into the room.

“Thanks for that, Harold.” Gerda now wore her usual smile. “Those three have been bothering me all week.” He just shrugged in reply

Gerda was the only one in all his time in the security patrol who had ever asked his name. He had thought about giving a fake, but had decided against it. It was such a common name, and it had such a small chance of making it back to Johanna that he figured it could do no harm. He walked over to the vacated chair and sat.

“So.” Gerda said, as she started organizing some of the loose papers on her desk. “What can I do for the elusive Harold Wildsen?” She looked up sharply.

“I assume there isn’t actually a situation on the wall?”

He shook his head in reply. She nodded, and returned to her papers.

“Well, if you’re here to talk about this ‘Great Raven fiasco’ I’m afraid I don’t have any information. The entire city is on the verge of a riot, and I have nothing to tell them. I would have thought people would be a bit more rational about this whole thing. It’s just a bird!”

“Well… It is a pretty big bird.” Harold said

She gave a wry laugh at that.

“And now to top it all off, I get jokes from you of all people.”

She looked up from her papers. “So what are you here for? I hate to be rude, but I am pretty busy today.” She motioned to the large stack of loosely organized papers.

“Well…” He found the words hard to say. Now that the time was here, he wanted to keep this life. He wanted to keep the long nights on the wall, his charming little cottage by the wall. But all things end, all journeys inevitably have a destination. Entropy had claimed his life yet again. He set his jaw, and forced the words out.

“I’m here to resign. Today.”

Gerda laughed.

“You really are the jokester aren't you? In all the time I’ve known you…”

She trailed off, and looked back up at him, seeing his grim expression. The smile fell from her face.

“You’re serious.”

It wasn’t a question, but Harold still nodded in reply.

Gerda set the papers down, and again clasped her hands in front of her, looking at Harold without saying anything. The silence stretched until it became uncomfortable. He started fidgeting in his seat. Still, she said nothing. Eventually, she asked, in a quiet voice.

“Why?”

Why indeed. He had expected this question, but hadn’t thought of a good lie. So, he simply shrugged, which prompted Gerda to slam her gloved hands onto the table, rustling the stack of papers.

“Dammit Harold!”

She stood up from her seat and pointed a finger at him, causing him to shy back, both from the finger and the unexpected outburst.

“You can’t just waltz into my office during the largest catastrophe since the Ahlberg incident and expect me to give you a firm handshake and a pat on the back for a job well done! We are already short handed as it is! You’re the only person I have to watch the entirety of the eastern wall for the next week and half! This town is falling apart because of some stupid bird, I have witches popping in and out of existence telling me about some void with monsters crawling out, the dock workers are all up in arms about some infestation of rats, and I have to somehow take care of all of it!”

She was shouting now, face quickly turning red.

“And now, what, you just quit on me? For no reason? No no! I’m going to ask you one more time, and you BETTER HAVE A GOOD ANSWER!” She sat back down, and let out a deep breath, calming herself, as some of the red left her cheeks. She again clasped her hands together, after tucking up some hair that had come free during the tirade.

“Now, I ask again. Why? Are. You. Leaving?”

This wasn’t going at all to his plan. In his head, he had indeed imagined himself waltzing right and quitting, no strings attached. He should have known it wouldn’t be this easy.

But what could he tell her? Certainly not the truth, but not a lie either.

“A long time ago, I made a choice. I don’t think it was the right one, but I didn’t see a better option, so I stand by it. It- no, I left behind a mess, and now the mess has caught up with me.”

It sounded corny, even to him. Gerda just looked at him.

“If it’s really as… messy , as you say it is, then you can’t run away from it.” She finally said.

Harold said nothing in reply, just stared back. She just shook her head.

“Fine, go then.” she snapped. “I guess I’ll just watch the wall myself.”

He stood, and took the badge of his shirt offering it to her. She raised her hand to decline it.

“Keep it, it’s one of the old styles anyway.” she said with a sigh.

“And, if you ever decide to be a man and fix your mess, I would be happy to have you back on the force.” She said in a professional voice, all familiarity gone.

Harsh words. No less than he deserved. He nodded to her, and put the badge into his pocket, and walked out of the office, leaving yet another mess behind him.

Hours later, Harold sat along the wall in his customary spot. He had spent the rest of the day packing up the rest of his things, and finding passage on a ship. He had stopped by the docks after his confrontation with Gerda, and had purchased a ticket on a passenger vessel. The ticket had been expensive, taking most of what he had saved over the years. They were taking him as far as they traveled. From there, he wasn’t sure where he would go. The full moon sat slightly behind him, and shone down across the valley, bathing it in a pale white light. The night air was alive with all sorts of sounds. Crickets chirping, trees rustling in the wind, and the occasional hoot of an owl. He could see for miles, all the way to the troll mountain range. As he watched a light appeared high up on one of the mountain slopes, a troll fire was lit. It was late in the night for a new fire to pop up, but he supposed he wasn’t the only one out here that wanted to pretend the night would last forever.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the night air. He probably should have tried to get some sleep, but he didn’t want to waste his last chance to sit on the wall. He was going to miss this. He vividly remembered the first time he had looked out at this sight. He remembered being stunned by the beauty of the valley as it slept. Even now, he was struck by just how much he could see. Miles upon miles stretched out before him. Wooded foothills gave way to true forests, which turned into expansive plains to the north, and the ocean to the south. Looking to the north, his thoughts turned to the young girl traveling that direction. She had probably made it to the mountain by now, she might have even started back. And she would bring a storm with her, the storm of truth. He hoped Kona would explain the whole situation to her, and maybe she could understand why he had done what he had. A foolish hope, perhaps, but seeing as he would never know, it was an easy enough lie to believe in.

He pulled that same old photograph out of his jacket pocket. The man he saw was truly unrecognizable. How had it all gone so wrong? Again he wondered if this could really be the best outcome. Again, he told himself that it was, for his own sanity. Even if it wasn’t, it’s not like he could do much about it now. He had to move on. Gerda’s words stuck with him. Could he really call himself a man? Would a man still run? Maybe this was inevitable. Maybe he should just wait here for Hilda to get back and denounce him as the liar he was. It was at this moment that Harold discovered something about himself, something that really shouldn’t have been a surprise. He was a coward. He could see that staying and facing the consequences that had built up over the past 12 years was objectively the better choice. And it didn’t matter. The thought of facing Johanna and Hilda made him feel sick, physically ill. He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t strong enough. He couldn’t run from this, or hide from it. Harold Wildsen was a coward, putting his own comfort ahead of anything else. He thought he would feel guilt, or maybe shame, but all he felt was tired. Apparently, once you hit a certain point, there was no room for more guilt to wriggle itself in.

He sighed, and stood, photograph still in hand. He had planned on taking it with him, but if he was admitting to his cowardice now… well, he would be better off without it. Better off forgetting. He walked back along the wall to the bell tower proper, and climbed down the ladder. He walked to the waste bin by the door, and without a second look, dropped the picture in. He walked out of the door, burdened by the weight of a lifetime of mistakes, now one stone heavier.

He walked out of the tower towards town. It was still a few hours until sunrise, and his ship didn’t leave until a bit after that so he had some time to kill. But before that, he wanted to visit a few spots before he left for good. The first stop was actually fairly close by, on the outskirts of town. Where once, a lonely house had stood, a charming neighborhood had sprung up. He walked down the street, lit only by the occasional street lamp. After a minute or so of walking, he arrived at his target. A small red brick house that looked out of place next to the new style apartments that surrounded it. It didn’t look anything like he remembered. He remembered a rundown prison, a home in name only. It had been repainted since then, and now showed signs of care. The lawn outside was evenly trimmed, instead of the wild weeds of his memory. The hedges that made up the border were now cut to his midcaff, instead of the barely contained tree-sized monsters of his youth.

He stood outside, as youthful memories came back. Memories of a family that no longer existed, and hadn’t for decades. His parents were both dead now, and his one sibling, an older sister, had moved away years before. She hadn’t kept in touch, so he wasn’t sure what had become of her. This was one place he wasn’t going to miss, this place could rot away for all he cared. He still wanted to see it one last time. There had been a few good things in the sea of bad, and looking back, he didn’t blame his mother as he once had. He recognized that she had tried her best, but sometimes things just didn’t work out, no matter how hard someone tried. He had an understanding of that now, and honestly most of the unhappy times were probably his fault anyway. His mother had lost her job shortly after Harold had moved back in full time, after his fathers death. Both events were tied to Harold and the curse he carried. His mother hadn’t ever been able to find a good job again, and had died of some sickness a few years later.

His father had been a hard man, but Harold knew that he loved him deep down, but when it came to his mother…well, he wasn’t sure. He could empathize with her actions now, in a way he never could have before, but that didn’t mean he forgave her. He gave the house a rude gesture, then stalked off into the dark morning air. He walked further into town towards his next destination, but stopped as he noticed where he was. The library was only a street or two over, did he have enough time to stop there? He could probably spare a few minutes. He walked the few streets until he was met with the sight of the Trollberg library. It wasn’t open, as it was still early in the morning. That didn’t matter, he wouldn’t have gone in.

He had borrowed many books from the library in the first few years, but the allure had worn off quickly. He hadn’t checked a book out in nearly 4 years now. When he was younger, he had spent most of his time in Trollberg here. Everyday he would run here as soon as school let out (sometimes before) until the library closed. He had found many creative ways to spend as little time at home as he could, and this had been his favorite. Unable to explore the world around him, he had explored other worlds through books. The old librarian had allowed him to use the hidden room on the second floor, although between then and now that librarian had been replaced by a younger purple haired woman that he didn’t know. That was for the best, it would have been…awkward to be recognized. He did still absently wonder what had become of Ms. Pilqvist. He really wasn’t sure why he had wanted to stop here. Yes, he had spent lots of time here, but it was just a place. He had spent plenty of time at the school but felt no desire to go there. Then he remembered. This was also the place he had first seen Johanna. Well, he had probably seen her before at school sometime, but this was the first time he had seen her.

She had been getting some research for some sparrow scout badge, and he had been doing the usual, sitting in a corner with a stack of books trying to escape. In that stack, happened to be a book she needed, so, naturally, she came over and very politely asked if she could borrow it. He, naturally, told her off, very rudely. He smiled, thinking of that day. He couldn’t quite recall what had happened after that, but somehow she ended up with the book, and he ended up helping her with the research. He could recall many times he had been adamant to do something his way, only to end up doing whatever she wanted, usually without him realizing. Most of his memories like that had turned bittersweet (really just bitter), so he was glad he still had a few untainted things to look back on. He continued on his way, now heading deeper into the city. He had no particular destination downtown, it was just faster to walk through it then around it. It was growing truly unnerving to walk these streets alone. He still had yet to even see a car. Gerda was right, people were on the verge of panic. He didn’t understand it at all, it was just some thunderbird. They were rare to be sure, some of the books he had read estimated there were less than a dozen in the entire world. That still didn’t warrant this level of concern when one didn’t show up. The city this quiet was creepy. Shadows grew long, and the allies he passed seemed to stretch into eternity.

He did eventually see a group of younger girls walking in his direction across the street. They appeared to be talking and laughing, but one of them pointed at him and they all stopped suddenly. They watched him as he passed, expressions sinister. He kept his eyes on them for as long as he reasonably could, but eventually he turned his eyes back to the path ahead of him, ears straining for any following footsteps. The expressions on those kids had been unnerving and he would rather they didn’t follow him. After several tense seconds of waiting, he heard nothing so he relaxed.

Just a few teenagers being weird, nothing to be worried about.

He was approaching his next destination, which was a popular overlook over the city. It was now getting close to sunrise, the black sky slowly bleeding into a dark purple. He walked up the stairwell, and pushed open the door, seeing the expanse of the city ahead of him. He walked out into the open, and went over to the railing, leaning on it and looking out over the city. As he watched, lights flicked on in the far off buildings. Most people (Himself unfortunately included) in Trollberg got up with the sun, he wasn’t sure why. Maybe they too had the uncanny ability to know exactly when the sun rose. The overlook was empty, it was made for sunset and who would want to drag themselves up here this early anyway? This was one of the first places Johanna had taken him. She had grown tired of his constant complaints about the city, about how nothing could ever match ‘the beauty of the wilderness’, as he had put it, so she brought him here to shut him up. It worked too.

Starring out across the city as the sun set behind it had shown him a different kind of beauty. Man made, but still wonderful. A city working as intended. Thousands of people coming together, and instead of fighting, they created. And they had built a skyline to be proud of. This was also the place he had proposed, many years later. That day was now a blur in his mind, but he could remember the moment perfectly. The shock on her face, the sound of a guitar being played softly nearby, the slight chill in the early autumn air, the gasps from the people around them, and the incredible sunset in front of them. A perfect moment, preserved only in his memory. It was growing harder and harder to picture in his mind, like a decaying photograph. Was he really getting that old? Old enough for memories to start fading? He really hadn’t felt his age until recently, and he swore the blue patches of his hair were slowly turning gray.

Entropy strikes again I guess.

He stood up straight, no longer leaning against the railing, and went back down the stairwell, he wanted to get to the next spot before the sun rose. He opened the door, and was greeted by the sight of the largest rat he had ever seen. It looked up at him, nibbling on whatever scrap it had found. Harold looked back, not moving. He wasn’t scared of it, he’d just never seen one not run away before. It didn’t appear to be in a hurry to get out of his way, so he just walked past it without a second thought. Things really were getting screwy in this town, maybe the bird had an effect after all.

He turned on to the main street, heading towards the bay. It was a long walk, but he hurried as fast as he could, racing against the brightening sky. He eventually arrived at the place. A beautiful overlook over the bay, with several nearby restaurants and cafes. There were a few tables around the area, but it was currently empty of people, which was odd. This spot was usually very busy, which really spoke to how concerned the people were. None of the nearby cafes were open, which was a shame, since he was starting to feel hungry, but it was probably better to save his money anyway. He walked towards a table in particular. It was the furthest away from the street, and sat a little aside from the others. This was the location of his first official date with Johanna, and they had come here often. There had been a shop nearby that sold the most intricate carvings, they had always loved to look at them. One of the nearby cafes had the best peppermint tea in the world, in Harold's opinion anyway. He absently wondered if they actually made it any differently, or if it was just his nostalgic mind playing tricks on him.

Harold walked up the familiar table. He sat, looking out over the ocean. The sun was rising, barely peeking out over the expanse of blue. The sky was still faintly lavender, holding on to the night. Soon he would board a ship, and sail into that sun, never to be seen again. He sat, and contemplated the sum of his life, the reasons he was here now. He tried to imagine a world where something was different, a different choice down the path of his life. Maybe there had been a path to living happily with his family. Then again, the only reason he had even met Johanna was because he had to move back to Trollberg when his dad died. But surely this wasn’t the best outcome. Surely he could have done something different, done something better to fix things. Was this his destiny? To board a ship and sail some place far away to live alone until he eventually died? Did he even believe in destiny? He didn’t know. He didn’t like the idea that something else controlled the world around him, that his life was as scripted as a play. But then again, if his choices were his own, then so too were his mistakes. Nothing else could be blamed for his actions. The coward wanted to believe in destiny, to yet again escape his responsibility. For once, he didn't immediately agree.

He stared out across the bay, then pulled the ticket out of his pocket, considering it. What was the point? Why go to all the effort of sailing hundreds of miles away? Why not just pick a direction and start walking? Or for that matter, why not just find a nice place to curl up and wait for death to take him? He squashed that thought. His life was far from over. He had many more years of self beratement to look forward to. He stood, it was time to leave. The sun had now well and fully risen, so he should have enough time to make his last stop before the ship left. He intended to go visit the garden where his wedding had taken place. He turned, ready to go, but stopped when he saw that someone was standing a few feet behind him. He hadn’t heard any sort of footsteps approaching, who could have approached so silently?

It was Hilda. Panic set in instantly. There was only one reason she would be here, the dragon told her the truth. But no, there was no way she could have made it to and from the mountain this fast. Had she come back then? That was it. She must have turned around for some reason. So maybe she doesn’t know! He relaxed. This was a problem, seeing as she still needed to meet with the dragon at some point, but he could deal with that.

“Hello there.” He gave a small wave.

She didn’t say anything, just looked at him with an unreadable expression. Now that he really looked though, she looked…different. She looked visibly tense, as if gravity was affecting her more than everyone else. Her stance was also…off somehow. He had only seen her a handful of times, but even he could tell. Her hair was also a bit brighter, more blue. And there was something else, something he couldn’t quite grasp. She finally spoke

“So you’re leaving?” She motioned down to the ticket he still held in his hand. He looked down at it.
“Oh!” He gave a weak laugh. “Yes, I’m, uh, going on a trip.”

“So you’re coming back?” She said, face betraying no emotion.

“Oh, well… No… I guess not.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

She stared at him in silence, and he had an uncomfortable flash back of his conversation with Gerda the day before.

“Well…” He finally broke the silence. “I guess I’ll just be on my-”

She cut him off.

“So just like that, huh? No goodbyes or anything.” Her expression turned angry, and she took a step forward.

“I, well-” He took a step back “I mean, I, well I-”

“Just going to disappear again? Vanish for another 12 years without a word?”

She said cutting him off, and taking another step forward, her words growing louder. Harold took a second step back. This was bad. Maybe she had made it to the dragon and back after all. She took another step, which put her in front of the now vacated table. She pulled something out of her jacket pocket and slammed it onto the table, which removed any remaining doubt from his mind. It was the picture he had thrown away. Frame still dusty, and glass now cracked. He looked down at it and winced. This was pretty much the worst case scenario. In only a few seconds, years of careful planning and sacrifice were thrown in the trash. The newly acknowledged coward in him actually considered just running away at full speed, sprinting towards the docks, and the ship that waited for him. He looked up, to see if she was blocking him in any way, but then he saw the tears running down her face. The urge to run was killed in an instant, burned away as something he hadn’t felt in years suddenly raged within him. This was his daughter, and she was crying. And he had caused it. All of the reasons he had for the things he had done were nothing against this. The shame he felt at this realization was almost too much. He couldn’t run anymore, now he had to face this. He was still a coward, but even a coward can do the right thing once or twice. He grit his teeth, and shoved aside the mixture of shame and fear. His emotions could wait, this was far more important. He motioned to the table.

“Let’s have a talk.”

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Hilda had never truly appreciated how much a true adventure involved walking. Sure, she had tracked all over the countryside before she had moved to Trollberg, but that had been aimless wandering, with no destination in mind. Now that she had a clear target, and more important, a harsh deadline, she was walking. She made good time, and by the time noon rolled around she had already completely lost sight of Trollberg. She found a nice area to stop, and slung the heavy pack of her shoulders. It was a large hiking pack, intended to hold enough to supply someone for up to a full week outside of civilization. It was very heavy, but it didn’t slow Hilda down. She had always been strong for her age, and below average size. Even now that she was 14 (as of a few months ago) she was still a few inches shorter than her peers. Even David had one or two inches on her now. She sat down next to the pack and Twig came up next to her. He had been exploring the area as they walked, finding all sorts of things to interest himself. She opened up the food compartment and gave Twig his food. She then pulled out the first of 12 sandwiches she had packed, which was more than enough considering she was supposed to be back by the day after tomorrow. But it never hurt to have extra. It somehow already tasted stale, despite being made only a few hours ago. Well she had many more to look forward to, so she figured she should get used to it now. As she ate, she studied the area around her. Tall trees almost completely obscured her view of the sky.

The sounds of many different insects buzzing around her overlapped with the songs of dozens of birds to create a steady orchestra of life in the background. She thought she could hear the faint sound of cars passing distantly on the northern road, but it could have simply been her imagination. The path she was on ran mostly parallel with the northern road, but it did intersect with it once or twice. She might be getting close to it now. She breathed in deeply, then sighed contentedly. This was exactly what she had wanted. A chance to get out of the city and go on a proper adventure for the first time in what seemed like years. Although, she did have to admit the walking was getting a bit tedious, and in her fantasies, David and Frida were with her. But alone was better than nothing, and she still had Twig, who certainly seemed to be enjoying the walk, constantly darting into the underbrush at a sound, and sniffing all the different trees. Hilda finished the humble meal, and stood again continuing down the path, Twig running ahead. As she walked, she couldn’t help but feel like she was in some way running - or rather walking - away from her problems. This wasn’t helping her stay closer to her friends, in many ways it was quite the opposite. Why wasn’t she practicing lines to get into the musical with David, or grabbing some magical ingredients for Fridda while she walked? She told herself that helping the Raven was more urgent, so she shouldn’t waste time on her way there, but she knew that was a rationalization.

She could do both, and it would barely slow her down. In reality, she simply didn’t want to spoil her time on an adventure with her problems at home. A selfish desire, perhaps, but she was only out here in the first place to help the Raven. A selfless act done in the most selfish way possible. There was a strange poetry in that, an impossible contradiction that somehow made perfect sense. Another reason did whisper at her in the back of her mind, telling her she didn’t try because she knew her friends would be better off without her, that she was only holding her back. How many more hours could David have practiced singing if she hadn’t been distracting him? How much better could Fridda have done on a test with more time to study? She tried to shove the thought away, but it lingered. Stubborn, much like herself. She could look at the situation objectively, and she could tell herself that she was being silly. But she couldn’t feel it. Maybe all this time to think wouldn’t be as nice as she had thought. To distract herself, she started noting each type of tree she passed, trying to guess how old it was. The burden of her thoughts was quickly lightened by the game, and she covered the miles quickly.

She passed every sort and size of tree imaginable. Ancient oaks, with trunks as thick as motor cars. Thin patches of aspens, leaves quaking in the wind. Pines that shot up so high she had to crane her neck to see the top. Once, while walking down a large hill, she saw a forest giant walking in the distance causing birds to take flight for acres around its thundering footsteps. It was of course nothing when compared to Jörgen, but he wasn’t exactly around for comparison so it was admittedly a bit of a moot point. Twig popped out of a nearby bush, down the trail from her. He made a small yip sound to get her attention, then dove back into the bush. Hilda jogged up to the bush, and pushed through it, curious what her furry companion had found. Twig led her off the trail a short distance, into a small clearing next to a stream where incredibly a troll circle sat. Troll circles were nothing new to Hilda obviously, but she didn’t think she had ever heard of one this far from the mountain side of Trollberg. Most of that mountain range was to the east and south, and she was heading in almost the opposite direction.

“This is certainly odd, what are they doing this far from the mountain?” She said to Twig, who was observing the frozen trolls, head co*cked. He was clearly just as confused as she was.

“Well come on, let's keep going a bit longer. I want to find a good spot to camp for the night.”

The sun was still an hour or two from setting, but Hilda wanted to be completely prepared with a tent and fire. She had never actually camped by herself in the woods before, and despite her outward bravado she was feeling a bit anxious. Having a good spot with plenty of time to set up would help that feeling greatly. The duo returned to the trail and continued down for a time, until they reached a lovely spot off the trail a few yards. A small hill, topped by a single tall pine, towering over the rest of the trees like a king's castle. In only about half an hour, Hilda had the tent set up and a small fire going. The sun was just barely starting to touch the horizon, and the sky was turning just faintly orange and purple on the edges. Hilda fished out another sandwich, and some food for Twig. They enjoyed the lackluster meal in silence, watching the sunset.

The next morning, Hilda woke up with the sun, yawning to fully awaken herself. Twig sat next to her, still sound asleep in the chill morning.

“Come on Twig.” She yawned

“We’ve got a long day today.”

She got dressed, and packed up her sleeping gear and tent, pausing only long enough for a breakfast of trail mix, and started heading back down the trail. Twig would run ahead, sniffing or digging at whatever caught his interest until Hilda reached him, at which point he would run ahead again and repeat the cycle. Occasionally he would find something interesting, a stick shaped like a heart, or perfectly smooth oval shaped rock, that Hilda picked up. David would like that for his collection, so she threw it in her bag for later. They continued in this fashion all morning, until they eventually stopped for an early lunch. The sandwich was just as dry and stale as the 2 previous, and soon they were yet again walking. The forest was thinning, becoming more of a grassy plain, and as she turned down the path she caught sight of the highway she had started hearing a little while ago. Twig ran past her, going a bit down the trail. This next mile or so of the trail ran right up next to the highway. Several cars passed, but they were pretty scarce this far away from Trollberg. Twig was sitting a little way ahead, looking intently at the road for some reason. As she approached, she saw what had captured her little friend's attention. None other than Woodman stood on the shoulder of the highway, thumb stuck stubbornly out, apparently hitchhiking.

“Woodman? What in the world are you doing out here?”

“This may surprise you, but I do have a life outside of you.” Wood man responded, not looking back at her. Hilda was taken aback by the bluntness of that, which was usually the case when talking to Woodman.

“Well, it’s nice to see a friendly face at any rate. Where are you headed? You don’t normally venture this far out do you?”

“I was trying to find a good book, but that didn’t turn out quite as I wanted.”

Hilda looked down at the large red leather book he held at his side and raised an eyebrow. “So now I’m here, waiting to see where I end up next. The real question, is-” He said, finally turning his head to her

“-what are you doing this far out of town?”

“I’m looking for the Raven. He didn’t show up for the Bird-day parade, and I’m worried he might be hurt. He sent me a note, and a map to his home.”

Woodman co*cked his head.

“In my experience, birds don’t generally write very much. May I see it?”

Hilda dug in her bag, until she fished them out, and handed them over. Woodman read the note, then looked at the map. He stared at the map for a moment, then looked at the mountain peak just barely visible in the distance. He stared at the peak for a moment, then looked back at the map. He stared at the map for a long time, considering it. After a few minutes of silence, Hilda eventually broke it by asking

“Can you read the symbols on the note? Alfur says they’re in the spirit language.”

“They are spirit symbols, but I can’t read them. I’m not that kind of spirit.”

He handed the papers back, and Hilda accepted them, disappointed.

“That mountain can be dangerous, not many travel it. Are you sure you want to go up there?”

“I’m sure I can handle it.” Hida said confidently. “Besides, the Raven needs my help.”

A blue pickup truck appeared in the distance, and Woodman hastily stuck his thumb back out. The truck slowed, and pulled over next to them. A burly man with a puffy beard leaned out of the window. He raised an eyebrow at the admittedly strange group gathered on the side of the road, but just shook his head slightly and said.

“I’m headed north for a ways. You can hop in the back if that's where you’re looking to go.”

His voice was gruff, but the tone was friendly.

“I’m looking to go anywhere. North will do, I suppose.” Woodman said in the same nonchalant way he said anything, and climbed into the bed of the truck. The man just shook his head again, and muttered something about crazy spirits. He then looked at Hilda.

“Are you coming too?”

Woodman looked back over the side of the truck.

“Better hop in, if you want to make it to the mountain before nightfall.” Woodman said.

He was right, the mountain was still a few miles away, and it was well past noon by now. Still, Hilda hesitated. The note had said she should go alone, but then again, that didn’t necessarily mean she had to travel alone. Honestly, she probably should have let her mom drive her anyway, and on top of that her feet were starting to hurt from the endless walking. So she grabbed Twig, and hopped in the back of the truck, sitting comfortably in the bed. The truck started moving, and they rode in silence, Hilda watching the mountain steadily grow closer. She pulled some snacks out of her pack as they drove, and offered some to Woodman and Twig. A short time after that, Woodman tapped on the back glass of the truck's cab, signaling the driver.

“This is as close as this road gets to the mountain. The base is a few miles away from here.”

The truck slowed, and pulled over. Twig leapt out of the bed before Hilda could grab him, apparently eager to get out of the vehicle. Hilda hopped out more gingerly, lightly touching down in the tall grass. She thanked the truck driver, offering him a sandwich which he took gratefully.

“Are you sure you want to get out here? The nearest town is still 20 or so miles away.” The man said it, pointing vaguely to the west.

Hilda thought momentarily about trying to explain the situation to the man, but it seemed like it would be more trouble than it was worth, so she simply said:

“I’m sure. Thanks again.” The man simply shrugged, and started digging into the wrapped sandwich. She walked to the back of the truck, ready to say her goodbyes. Woodman spoke first, not looking at her. His gaze was again locked on the nearby peak.

“No matter what happens to you, I’m still your friend.”

He finally looked at her.

“Remember that, would you? Come visit me sometime, I think we’ll have a lot to talk about.”

Hilda didn’t have a response to that, and before Hilda could think of something, the truck started pulling away, so she was forced to simply wave at the quickly shrinking wood spirit. His final words were strange, did he expect something to happen to her?

Just Woodman being Woodman she decided with a shrug.

She shouldered her pack, and again started walking towards the now looming peak.

Walking again, yes, but cross country hiking was a bit more interesting to her then just meandering down a path through the woods. She came across a thick river, and had to travel alongside it for a little while until she reached a point she thought she could get across. Her bag was waterproof, luckily, so she just marched across the river holding Twig above the surface. The water didn’t get above her waist, and was moving slowly in this spot so she made it across easily. Her clothes dried quickly in the sun, and soon nothing remained to tell of her epic river crossing. She marched well into the afternoon, through grassy plains, wet marshes, and dense forest. She exited the woods as the land started sloping upwards. The sun was getting low in the horizon, but there was still an hour or so of daylight. Most of the mountain appeared to be sheer cliffs, but there did appear to be a set of switchbacks leading up the side she was on. She couldn’t see a path of any kind, but there weren’t too many trees so it should be relatively easy going. She considered camping here for the night, but decided she’d rather get to the Raven as soon as possible. So she started up the mountain, walking up a steep incline. She made good progress, step after step. By the time the sun started touching the horizon, she was already nearly halfway up. She was glad the weather forecast had sunny clear skies, as she couldn’t imagine many things worse than being caught in a storm up here. She continued up, foot after trudging foot. She was now good and well done with walking. Twig was trailing behind her, tail dragging, clearly just as exhausted as she was.

“Not much further now Twig!”
She tried to sound cheery, but she honestly had no idea how much further they had to go. She scanned the nearby trees for a nest, or birdhouse of some kind but didn’t see anything. Snow had replaced the grassy trails, and it was only getting deeper the further up she went. She soon had to pull out her extra jacket because of the dropping temperature. The sun had now fully set, and it was quickly growing dark. Pretty soon they would have to stop for the night. She didn’t relish sleeping on the side of a mountain in the cold, so she decided to keep going, looking for a more sheltered area. Soon she had to pull the flashlight out of her bag, just so she could see where she was going. The moon hadn’t risen, and the stars did little to brighten her dark surroundings. The snow was getting really deep now, making her struggle for each step. The snow was now higher than Twig's head, so Hilda picked the little creature up and carried him. She saw a small grove of trees that would make for suitable cover and she started heading for them, shivering in the cold. As she neared them however, something else caught her eye. A light, a little bit higher up the mountain.

That must be it!

“Come on Twig.” She said aloud “Just a little further now.”

The words were mostly to motivate herself. Her calves were burning from the long upward hike, which made a horrible contrast to her numb feet. The wind had started picking up, and it stole the heat from her like a burglar in the night. Still, she marched ever onwards. The light grew brighter and brighter as she made her way towards it, agonizingly slow. She eventually reached the entrance to the cave, glad to finally have solid ground to stand on. She set Twig down, and hunched over, putting her hands on her thighs puffing in and out deeply. Her face and hands had joined her feet in the numbness, and she tried to rub some feeling back into them. The light she had seen from outside came from a torch mounted on the far wall, flickering in the night air. She walked over to it as fast as her frozen limbs would carry her, holding hands up to feel the heat of the feeble flame. The opening was wide and long, and it looked like a tunnel had been carved in the back. She couldn’t see very far down, but it looked stable, and she even felt a warm breeze coming from within. After a minute or two of warming herself near the torch, she walked towards the tunnel opening.

“Raven!” She called down the tunnel, but the only reply was her echoing voice. Well nothing to do but to go in. She started forward, but a whimper from Twig behind her made her pause. She looked behind her and saw that Twig had stopped only a few paces in.

“Come on Twig, let’s go.” He didn’t move. She walked back over to him.

“Don’t want to venture underground huh? Well that's ok. You wait here. You can guard my bag.”

She dropped her pack next to her furry friend, glad to be rid of the weight. As she turned, and started walking away, she felt tugging on her leg. Looking down she saw that Twig had grabbed her pant leg with his teeth, and was holding on tight. This was certainly odd behavior. Could he know something she didn’t? He was usually pretty good with spotting danger, but he was also a bit on the paranoid side. But then again, maybe there was something dangerous down there. She didn’t know for certain that this was the Ravens home. This could be the home of practically any creature. She had seen trolls not too far from here, and as she knew, not all trolls were friendly. She considered it for a minute. She hadn’t seen anything else that might be the home of her friend, and this cave was almost all the way up the mountain, so she had seen most of the area. There could be something on the other side, but from what she had seen, most of the far side was sheer cliffs. She decided to at least check this place out, she could always run away if needed. She knelt down, and removed Twig from her pants.

“It’s ok Twig, I’ll be alright.” He sat, ears laid back, and gave another whine, that she chose to ignore. She again started for the tunnel. She flicked on the flashlight, illuminating the passage. She guessed that any adult would consider it cramped, but she barely had to stoop. At least her sub average frame had some advantages. She continued down the corridor, following its twists and turns for a few minutes. Eventually, the tunnel opened into a large chamber.

“Raven!” she called, again, no answer. Her flashlight didn’t reveal much about the chamber, though she did see small nearly translucent crystals growing all over the floor, and a couple different mosses. The sound of water dripping reached her from somewhere further in. She was hesitant to walk in, she couldn’t see most of the room due to the angle of the entrance. Anything could be waiting for her in there, and she hadn’t exactly been quiet. She did feel something though, something coming from the cavern. She couldn’t name the feeling, but it was the feeling of getting home after a long day. The feeling of seeing a friendly face in an otherwise unknown crowd. Curious, she cautiously ventured into the cavern. After peaking her head far enough to see that nothing was waiting for her on the other side, she fully walked into the chamber, the sound of her footsteps echoing through the dark cave. She stopped once she reached the first of the strange crystals. They were unlike any she had ever seen. They were very thin, and grew in all sorts of patterns. They were warm to the touch and refracted the light from her flashlight in odd ways. She put her flashlight right up to one, shining on the nearby wall. Strange shadows danced, almost making images. In fact she swore one was Frida, and another could be David…if she squinted at least. How odd.

I should grab a piece to study. There were some broken pieces laying on the floor nearby, so she grabbed one of the larger chunks, about the size of her hand, and put it in her pocket as a sample. She stood back up and looked around again, reanalyzing her surroundings. She saw more of the crystals, and looking up she saw extremely large clusters of it. Was it her imagination, or were those large clusters slightly blue? She lowered the beam of her flashlight, but could still faintly make out the overhead crystals. On a whim, she clicked her flashlight off, and watched in awe as the entire cavern became visible in a dim blue light. The large overhead clusters were giving off most of the light, but the little ones at her feet gave off a feeble glow as well. Again, she swore the shadows moved around, which was concerning because of the lack of anything to cast the shadows. There wasn’t anything around except more crystals, so maybe… She walked over to the nearest crystal on the floor and knelt down next to it. She leaned in close and stared into it. Yes, something was moving inside it. The light wasn’t made by the crystal itself, but some sort of liquid-like substance moving inside of it. It was hard to make out through the glow, but if she squinted she could just barely see the internal movement, and again, she swore it made images. It made a shape that could have been the outline of Trollberg, and a man perhaps? It was hard to see, and she was probably just imagining it. She stood up from the crystal, again looking around.

“Raven?” she called one last time. Still, no answer. She gave a final half heard scan of the cavern, but decided this probably wasn’t the right place. She doubted birds liked to live in caves anyway. She had probably missed a nest on one of the trees she had passed in the dark. She gave a sigh and turned to go, except the exit wasn’t behind her. She looked side to side, confused. She turned to left, then to right hoping in vain that she had just gotten turned around in the dark, but she didn’t see the exit anywhere. Replacing the exit was a strange looking wall, with what appeared to be interlocking plates covering it, with two pillars slightly in front. The feeling she had felt before returned, stronger now, and strangely seemed to be coming from the wall. She took a step forward to study it closer, how had she missed it before? The two pillars actually kind of looked like legs now that she was a bit closer and… she looked up. Two large orange eyes looked down at her.

Oh no…

The cave was occupied after all, it turned out. Hilda stood motionless, waiting in case it attacked her. Luckily, the creature -whatever it was- didn’t appear to be hostile. It mostly just seemed to be curious, studying her with those large orange eyes. Hilda slowly backed up. What should she do? Could she try to talk to it perhaps? Could it even understand her? What even was it? It wasn’t like anything she had ever seen. It reminded her slightly of the lindwurm, but this had 4 legs, and a more segmented body, in contrast to the lindwurm’s more snake-like appearance. It also had horns atop its head, and more of a pointed snout almost like a wolf. It was covered head to toe in bright blue scales. It had two wings folded at its side, and had two horns atop its head. A long thin tail ran out behind it, with what appeared to be a feathered tip. The creature leaned its head down towards her, and squinted at her. She retreated a few more steps, trying to keep her distance from it. Well if she was going to try talking to it, she might as well do it now.

“Hello.” She gave it a cheery wave

“I’m sorry for trespassing into your home, I was just looking for my friend the Raven?”

The creature didn’t respond, just leaning in a little closer.

“Well, clearly no Raven here!” she gave a nervous chuckle. “I guess I’ll just be leaving now…”

The creature made no move to let her out, so she just stood there, looking back into those deep orange eyes. After a moment or two of the impromptu staring contest, the creature leaned back and let out a huff, then opened its mouth and spoke. It had a soft feminine voice, which didn’t seem to match the monstrous form.

“Alright I’ll bite. Who are you? I felt you approaching hours ago, and you clearly have a lot of connection to me, with that hair and all. But I’m sure I’ve never met you, and I never forget a face.”

Hilda, a bit taken aback at the sudden burst of speech, just simply answered.

“Um, I’m Hilda?”

The creature lifted a massive hand and started scratching its chin, in a very human manner.

“Hilda… Hmm… that does sound familiar. Aren’t you Mayalara’s daughter?”

She shook her head.

“Hmm… Oh wait, you’re Jéspiat’s friend right?”

Again, she shook her head.

“No? Oh right, he died a while ago.” It looked back down at her.

“Yeah I’m drawing a blank here. Hilda, hmm…”

Hilda had no idea who it was talking about. Jéspiat was the name of the man who first discovered the Trollberg valley, a very long time ago, before even the Ahlbergs legacy started. Could it really be referring to him? That would mean this creature was… well, old. Very Old.

“Well it doesn’t really matter. How did you find this place anyway? This place is pretty inconspicuous, and I have a few… additions to make people ignore it. Nobody ever finds it by accident. Well, actually there was this one time, ages ago. Some old woman stumbled in looking for her husband of all things and I…”

The creature started rambling on, occasionally laughing at ‘funny’ parts of its story. Hilda was barely listening. Something was bugging her, tugging at the back of mind, something about this strange creature. It really did remind her of the lindwurm, but those scales and the wings tucked on its side… It clicked.

“A dragon!” Hilda blurted out, cutting off the dragon's story. “You’re a dragon!

The creature-the dragon, looked at her with an indigent expression.

“Yes. I am.” it said it very slowly, as if explaining something to a small child.

Hilda blushed, realizing how obvious of a statement it was.

“Sorry, it’s just, well- I didn’t think dragons were real, I thought they were a myth!”

The dragon let out a huff at that, seeming slightly offended.

“Yes, well, I am very real. Tell me, are all humans this rude these days?”

“Sorry, again. I’ve just never seen, or even heard of a dragon in real life!”

“It’s fine.” The dragon said, sighing.

The dragon started towards the back of the cave, muttering something about getting old and all these young humans.

Hilda followed behind cautiously, a thousand questions racing through her mind. She regretted leaving her sketchbook in her bag with Twig; this dragon would have made an excellent addition to its pages. The stories she had heard about dragons labeled them as terrible fire spitting monsters that destroyed towns in a matter of minutes, leaving no survivors. But here she was, having a more or less friendly conversation with one. Her racing brain stopped in its tracks at that. She should probably be a little concerned about that.

“So…” She said, jogging up next to the lumbering form.

“If dragons are real, then surely all the stories I’ve read are just exaggerations…right?”

The dragon looked to the side.

“Well…let's just say there are some exaggerations in most of those old stories.”

The dragon sighed again.

“But yes, most of them are based on some truth. A lot of the other dragons weren’t exactly gracious in their rule. I’m definitely not the average dragon- Well, actually, I guess I am, seeing as I’m the only one left now.” The dragon let out a bitter laugh. They reached the back of the cave, where there was a cozy dragon sized bed of moss waiting. The dragon flopped over with a crash and let out a sigh of contentment. Hilda looked back at the now open exit, and she considered leaving. But that feeling of familiarity still radiated off the dragon, and a new question was picking at the back of her mind.

“What happened to all the other dragons? If you don’t mind my asking.”

The dragon moved into a more dignified position, still sitting on the moss.

“Now that is a complicated question. You’ll have to answer a question of mine first. How did you find this place?”

Hilda shrugged. The question seemed harmless enough.

“My friend, the Raven, sent me a note asking for help, with a map leading to this mountain. I thought this cave might be his home, but I must have missed it somewhere in the dark.”

The dragon looked at her skeptically.

“Could I see the note please?”

Hilda fished the note and map out of her pocket, luckily thinking to bring them with her. She held them up for the dragon who considered them with what Hilda could only assume was the dragon's version of a raised eyebrow.

“Let me get this straight. You got an anonymous note, covered in ancient spirit symbols that even I can’t read, and you thought it was from a bird?”

Hilda blushed, it did sound silly put that way.

“Birds don’t generally write notes, you know.”

Hilda sighed, “Yeah, I got that. So, what happened to the other dragons?”

The dragon donned a somber expression.

“They died. Some from old age, but most from… less natural sources.”

“I’m sorry.” Hilda said, but it sounded lame, even to her.

“It’s alright, as I said, some of them were nasty, and got what they deserved. But many more were simply caught in the crossfire. The rest of us were driven into hiding, where we slowly died out until…” The dragon gestured with its head at the cave around them.

“Well, here we are.”

They fell into silence, Hilda considering the cave around them.

How sad. It must be lonely up in this cave all alone.

Hilda wanted to comfort the dragon more, but yet another question was itching at her mind.

“So if the Raven didn’t send that note, who did?”

She wasn’t really asking the dragon, more speaking aloud to herself.

“I’m not sure yet, though I do know of at least one spirit who knows where I am. But why he would send you here I can’t imagine. He doesn’t write much either.”

The dragon let out a long sigh, then nodded its head as if coming to a decision.

“Yes, I’ll just have to read your memories.”

Hilda, who was still standing by the wall in front of the dragon, only had time to say

“Wait, wha-?”

Before the hulking form of the dragon shot up, lightning fast with a clawed hand outstretched. Hilda’s mind didn’t even have time to register it, but her body, moving by complete instinct, sprang backwards, trying to dodge the single pointed claw coming straight for her. It would have worked too, if there hadn’t been a wall two feet behind her. In the end, the timely jump only made her slam her back painfully into a jutting outcropping of rock. The dragon, unfazed by the sudden movement, slowed just as quickly, so that the single claw just barely made contact with her forehead. As soon as it touched, Hilda couldn’t move. Or at least, couldn’t move enough to free herself. She could just barely wiggle her fingers. She looked around frantically, breath coming out in ragged gasps. Before she could say anything, the room seemed to dim, as the dragon started glowing a powerful deep blue, with red accents she hadn’t noticed before flaring to life. With the glowing, came a tug on her mind. The dragon was trying to suck the memories out of her, so, stubbornly, Hilda resisted with mental will. The battle lasted only seconds, and soon Hilda had to relent, letting go of the memories. She saw them as they went, but she was too mentally exhausted from the struggle to consider them at all. After another few seconds, the dragon's glow faded, and the room grew bright again. The claw withdrew, and Hilda regained movement. Immediately, she hunched over, holding her head in both hands, letting out a weak groan. There wasn’t any pain, per se, but her mind needed a moment to ‘catch its breath’.

“Wow. You’ve had a crazy life huh?”

Hilda looked back up the dragon, who was now considering her with renewed interest.

“I mean, being bonded to a deerfox is one thing, but troll swapping? That’s only happened maybe a dozen times ever! Remarkable.”

“You can’t just do that!” Hilda accused, standing up straight. “Memories are personal, invading them is rude!”

The dragon rolled its eyes. “Oh don’t be like that. It’s only for the sake of saving time, you’re the one who showed up unannounced almost 2 months late. You’re the rude one, just like your father before you.”

That quieted Hilda, a retort dying on her lips. Her father? What did he have to do with this? Hilda had always been vaguely curious about her father, but not enough to go digging. Johanna had never spoken about it, and Hilda had never asked. She assumed he had died sometime when she was little, or maybe before she was born. People always seemed to tiptoe around the subject, not wanting to pry, but the lack of a father had never bothered Hilda. It had always just been Hilda and her mom, and that was good enough for her. But now here she was, in a magical cave with a dragon that could read minds, so maybe it was a good time to learn.

“You knew my dad?” She asked, hesitant.

“Well, I met him once, a little while ago. And I must apologize for not recognizing you earlier, although, in all fairness, you are almost two months late for your appointment. Which isn’t exactly your fault, seeing as your father apparently decided to change the plan on me.”

“Appointment?” Hilda asked

“Yes, yes, something we set up when you were little. I’ll explain it to you, seeing as he couldn’t be bothered.”

The dragon rolled its eyes.

“That man. I suppose he thinks he did the right thing by leaving you.”

Something cracked inside of Hilda. Something she hadn’t known existed, but something she had always deeply longed for. She never would have admitted it, not even to herself; she wanted a father. She could have accepted his death, but if he had left, just walking out and leaving her like a piece of trash…

“Leaving…?” She said softly

“Oh yes! Then sending that note to lure you here, without any risk of outing himself. He probably thought that was a clever plan.”

The dragon chuckled, but then trailed off, seeing Hilda wipe a tear away with her sleeve. Hilda was being silly. Why should she care if some man she’d never met had left? She didn’t need a dad, she’d done quite well without one. But frustratingly, she did care. It hurt, deeply. But she couldn’t worry about it right now.”

“Oh… Well… Hilda, I’m sor-”

“It’s fine.” Hilda snapped. She sniffed, and wiped her eyes with her sleeve again.

The dragon's eyes softened in an insufferable way, and Hilda braced herself for the inevitable comforting words that she didn’t want or need.

“Don’t be too hard on him. He had reasons to leave, maybe even good ones. I won’t try to explain for him, and I won’t tell you if he was justified or not. Only you can decide that. But regardless, it doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and you weren’t too late.”

Hilda looked to the side, wanting to move onto something else, so she just said.

“Fine. Now, could you please explain to me why I have an appointment with a dragon that I’ve never heard about?”

The dragon sniffed.

“You really are just like him. Please stop calling me dragon. I don’t waltz into somebody’s home unannounced and start calling them human. My name, not that you asked, is Kaspakona, but you may call me Kona.”

Hilda blushed. She was being rude, it wasn’t the dragons-Kona’s fault. There was no reason to take out the repressed anger on her.

“Sorry, Kona.”

The dragon nodded in appreciation.

“Thank you. Anyway, where was I?”

Hilda looked at Kona, raising her eyebrows. “...You haven’t started yet.”

“Ah yes, the beginning. The best part really, or at least most interesting. See, when you were very young you fell ill, and were on the verge of death. I wasn’t actually there to see this, mind you, but Harold’s memories were quite informative. Anyway, your parents took you everywhere trying to find a cure, but no technology or magic could cure you. Your father found out about this mountain from an unlikely source, and knowing you only had days left decided to risk everything to pay me a visit. He came to me, begging for any help I could offer. There was only so much I could do, without him bringing you here personally, so I gave him what’s called a ‘dragon's blessing’. I won’t bore you with the intricate technical details, but it’s basically a potion that spoofs a connection between whoever drinks it and me. Normally connection between anything takes a long time to form, but with it can be sped up with the right magic.”

“Connection?” Hilda asked, interrupting.
Kona gave her a look, but answered the question.

“Yes, connection. The theory is very complex, but imagine how you might know how a close friend is feeling from just a glance, or how you might know it’s going to rain despite being inside all day. The time you’ve spent with people and places connect you to them, and form a bond of sorts, almost like a symbiotic relationship, but more ethereal. Some bonds are more powerful than others, some are even harmful. The bond you have with that deerfox, Twig, for example. Deerfox can’t live for very long in our dimension, unless they connect with someone. So, Twig uses you as an anchor in the physical world, and in return you get a lifelong companion and friend. Believe it or not, that’s actually a fairly simple connection. But back to the story. The potion gave you connection to me, which, among other things, gave you the strength to fight the sickness. It had other helpful effects, but they aren’t really important. But regardless, it worked, seeing as you're still alive. I told Harold he needed to bring you back in person when you turned 14, and the plan was set.”

That raised a lot of questions in Hilda’s mind, but she only voiced the most pressing one.

“If I got over the sickness, why did I need to come back here?”

“Well… you never actually got better. The blessing only gave you the strength to live. You still have the sickness, to this day, and it’s only gotten stronger over the years. It’s not some common virus, it’s magical in origin. Very powerful, dark magic. A curse, really. Soon, it will be strong enough to overcome the blessing, at which point you will start getting sick, and die.”

Kona’s words hung in the air, thick around Hilda. Die, a difficult concept to internalize. Hilda had more than her fair share of close scraps, but she had never truly considered her death.

Kona, apparently noticing Hilda’s face fall, quickly resumed.

“Not to worry though, I do, of course, have a solution. Although I warn you, it is a bit… Well… unconventional.”

Warning sirens immediately went off in Hilda’s mind. This was starting to feel very close to the deal Trundle had offered. She had no reason to trust the dragon, in fact, everything she said could be an outright lie. But then again, what would Kona have to gain from lying to her? She couldn’t think of anything, but that hardly meant nothing was possible. There could be plenty of reasons Hilda just didn’t know about. There was still that feeling, linking her to the dragon. Was that part of the connection Kona had mentioned? Hilda did feel very familiar towards the dragon, as if she had known Kona her whole life. She did feel like she could trust her, which just made it even harder.

Let’s see what Kona has to offer, maybe she doesn’t want anything from me

Aloud, Hilda said. “What’s the solution?”

Kona adopted an expression Hilda could only describe as ‘awkward’. Incredibly, the dragon even seemed to shrink back a bit.

“Well, the only way I know to deal with a curse as nasty as this one is to use the Drekamaður contract.” She said it quickly, then shrunk back even further as if expecting Hilda to start yelling at her. Hilda simply stood there, looking at the dragon blankly.

“I take it you don’t know what that is?” Kona asked, carefully.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Hilda said honestly. She vaguely remembered the word Drekamaður being used in one of the few dragon books she had read, but the author had only mentioned it in passing and she had never been able to find an explanation.

Kona, after hearing that, let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Oh thank the stars. That makes this so much easier. ‘Drekamaður’ is a word in an ancient language that nobody speaks anymore. It translates loosely to ‘The dragons chosen’, and it has a bit of a nasty connotation these days, but a long time ago being a Drekamaður was one of the highest honors in the world.”

Kona adopted a far off look.

“Back when dragons were respected and beloved instead of feared and hated. Kings and queens would try for decades to catch the attention of whichever dragon they followed, just for a chance at becoming a Drekamaður. A very rare honor. Some of the other dragons made dozens of Drekamaður. One- a particularly nasty red dragon, Rauki his name was- created over 200 Drekamaður! Unfortunately he used them as elite soldiers to conquer other kingdoms. As for myself I only ever chose 6. I scoured the world for the best healers I could find , and gave them the ability to heal nearly as well as myself.”

Kona suddenly looked down, sad.

“That was near the end of the good times though, and they didn’t last too long once the dragon hunts started.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Kona staring at the floor, with Hilda standing awkwardly nearby. Hilda wanted to press further; her curiosity piqued. Dragon hunts? Drekamaður? She wanted to know more, but clearly these were painful memories for the old dragon, and it would be rude to press her further. She waited for Kona to resume her story, but then, of course, the sound of faint snoring reached Hilda’s ears. Hilda let out a small groan, and walked closer, shouting to wake the narcoleptic dragon. Luckily, Kona awoke easily this time.

“Mmm oh? Oh right, sorry Hilda.” Kona said with a yawn.

“It’s fine.” Hilda said flatly.

“Anyway, you were saying something about dragon hunts?” She asked hopefully.

Kona eyed her sideways. “That’s not important, although it does help me illustrate my next point. If you become a Drekamaður, you can’t let anyone know. And I mean anyone.”

Kona stared at her intently, and Hilda uncousouly leaned back slightly, trying to escape the drilling gaze.

“Why?” Hilda asked, mostly to end the piercing look.

“because they will hate you.” Kona said softly.

“They will hate you, and they will hunt you until you leave or they kill you. You’re friends, maybe even you’re family. I didn’t mention this part of the plan to your father, because I knew he would never agree to it. The witches have sown the hate for dragons deep, and even know it runs rampant.”

“What do the witches have to do with this?” Hilda asked, confused.

“I’ll explain more about that another time, but suffice it to say that they are the ones who started killing off the other dragons and Drekamaður.”

“I’d like to hear more about this witch business, I’m friends with lots of witches and they are some of the nicest people I know!” Hilda said

Kona just sighed, and rolled her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll give you the short version. A long time ago, a witch discovered a spell that would extend their life. It was simple, as far as spells go, but it required an ingredient from a dragon. Pretty much anything would work, a claw, a scale, even spit would work. But the most potent was blood. So a group of witches attacked a dragon, surprising it and killing it. That was the first time ever a dragon had been killed. Most, myself included, thought it impossible, but a Thericc always said, everything is possible with enough magic. But regardless, the witches wanted more, so they used the worst of the dragon's acts to turn public opinion against us, and got approval to hunt down the rest and ‘exterminate the threat to human well being’.” Kona said it all, obviously annoyed, but after finishing she just sighed, as if extremely tired.

“I was friends with many witches, before it all happened. They came to me to learn healing, until one day they came to me for blood. I don’t think the witches' lust for immortality is natural, or at least I keep telling myself that. They wouldn’t have just turned on my like unless there was some sort of unnatural influence, right? It’s fitting, I suppose, seeing as nothing about witches is natural…”

Kona trailed off, sounding exhausted. She stared off into space, deep in thought.

On the other end of it all, was Hilda, mind reeling. Kona had said so much, as she was struggling to internalize it. Immortality? Witches being unnatural? Dragon hunts?

Kona turned her head to look at one of the nearby clusters of crystal on the ceiling. She squinted for a second, then let out a yelp.

“Goodness, look at the time! Hilda, I’m afraid you’re going to have to make a decision quickly, or else you're going to miss it.”

Kona said it quickly, apparently very concerned about the timetable. She snorted out a small jet of blue flame over Hilda’s head, which materialized a single piece of paper and an old fashioned ink pen, which fell on Hilda’s head.

“Ow.” She said, rubbing the spot it had it, then reached down and picked the pen and paper up. She unrolled the paper. The top read: ‘Drekamaður contract, for one Hilda Wildsen’. The rest of the page was blank, except a blank signature line at the bottom. She reached to sign, but hesitated, a question blossoming in her mind.

“Why did the witches hunt the Drekamaður?”

“Becoming a Drekamaður changes a person. It changes them enough to make their blood usable in the life-extending spell, if much less potent. Don’t worry though. You will still be you, nothing can change that, but you will be different. It comes with upsides too though. Among other things, it will give you access to true magic, and greatly increase your physical ability.”

Hilda wanted to ask more, and opened her mouth to do so, but Kona shook her massive head.

“I would explain more, but there really isn’t any more time. You have to make a decision.

” Kona said it, almost regretful.

Hilda looked at the contract, still unsure if she actually trusted what the dragon said. She couldn’t say for sure if the dragon had said anything untrue, but still… She wasn’t sure. And these ‘changes’ Kona had mentioned were concerning to say the least. She had almost certainty been deliberately vague. A flicker of movement from above caught her attention, and she looked up. She saw a scene, still shadowy and vague, but clear at the same time. It depicted a bed, with a small figure lying unmoving. Various shadowy forms stood around it, quiet and unmoving. She knew what it was, the explanation whispered in the back of her mind. It was her deathbed, and more than that she knew it was coming soon. Sooner then even Kona knew. Within the month, if nothing changed. Could signing this contract really change anything? Signing the elf contract had changed her entire world view, so why not. She looked up, and met the orange eyed gaze of Kona, who was watching her intently. For better or worse, Hilda realized that she trusted the dragon.

So, with a flourish of quick messy letters. Hilda signed the paper. She braced herself, waiting for… something. But nothing happened. She looked around for a moment, confused. Kona sat, looking at her expediently. Hilda opened her mouth to voice her confusion, but then she was enveloped in a pillar of blue fire. It didn’t burn her, but she still instinctively threw her arms up in front of her face. After a moment with nothing happening, she opened her eyes to find that the world had vanished from underneath her feet. She seemed to be floating in a void, and she couldn’t feel anything around her. No floor, no walls, no ceiling. She couldn’t see anything, she wasn't sure if it was because of a lack of light or if she just couldn’t see anymore. She tried to shout into that void, but her voice didn’t even reach her own ears. Suddenly, she felt herself start to slide downwards. She let out a silent shout, as the sliding turned into falling. Then, just as suddenly, the feeling stopped. She opened her eyes, but strangely didn’t remember closing them. She was sitting in a plush chair, in a warm room. Across from her, sat an old man in an equally plush looking chair, and to her left was a crackling fireplace. The man was writing in a large red leather tome, not paying any attention to her. Next to the man sat an old fashioned record player, which was playing soft music quietly. She tried to push against the arm of the chair to stand up, but concerningly, her arms passed right through it. Looking down, she saw that she was slightly translucent, like a ghost.

Not good.

She tried to speak, but no sound came out.

“I’m afraid that won’t work, seeing as your current form isn’t physically inclined.” The man said, not looking up from his work. The man's voice was deep and kindly, but sounded too smooth to be coming from his old appearance. He had deep wrinkles, and wore glasses with thick lenses. But he also sat straight, back unbowed. He wore a plaid sweater, fuzzy looking pajama pants, and red velvet slippers.

She tried, again, to ask him where she was, but again she couldn’t make a sound.

The man chuckled, still not looking up.

“You’re a stubborn one aren’t you?” He flipped a few pages back in his book and made a notation.

“I suppose you’ll be wondering where you are?” He looked up, and met Hilda’s eyes. His eyes were a dark blue, and something about them was off. He was looking at her, yes, but it also looked like he could see more. See past her, see past the chair and wall behind her. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. She nodded in response to his question, the only form of communication left to her. The man let the book fall to rest on his legs and clasped his hands in front of himself.

“Hmm… a tricky question honestly. I suppose we shall start with the easy part; the physical location. I wouldn’t worry yourself too terribly about it. Let us just say that this is Nowhere, and that I am Nobody. Now, this part is a bit more complicated. You - or rather, your physical body - has died. When you signed that contract, the magic that was released by it completely destroyed your body. ”

She felt her heart go cold. Dead? She couldn’t be dead… could she?

“Now, before you start panicking, you are fine. See, when something dies, be it a person, animal, or anything else, the spirit of that thing sticks around for a little while.”

The book started to slip off his legs, so it paused to fully close it. When he closed it, she saw that the cover of the book bore her name. ‘Hilda’, embossed in large gold letters. He set it on a table next to his chair, which Hilda swore hadn’t been there before. Before she could even question it, or anything the man had told her, he started speaking again.

“Now when I say a little while, you may imagine a few minutes or maybe hours. In actuality, it is only a fraction of a second. Such a tiny fraction, that as far as I know, it has no name, and there is no way to measure it. But, because time has no meaning to something without physical form, that instant can actually last quite awhile. Hence this time for our friendly chat.” He gestured at the room around them.

Hilda followed his gesture and looked closer at the room around her. She could see the wall with the fireplace next to her, and the floor underneath, but if she looked out the other direction, all she could see were stacks of books. Some had names she could see, all in that same gold lettering. Some of them bore letters she didn’t recognize, in languages she had never seen before. Dozens upon dozens of stacks, all the same size and shape as the book with her name on it. The stacks went up as far as she could see, and she couldn’t see the ceiling at all. In fact, she couldn’t see the far wall either. How big was this room?

“Ah, noticed my little hobby, hmm?”

She looked back to ‘Nobody’, who was again writing in the book.

“That’s actually why I brought you here. I was hoping you could answer an important question for me.”

He said, tapping the cover of the book.

“But that can wait until I’ve finished my explanation. Now where was I… Oh yes, tiny amounts of time. See, in that tiny amount of time, if there is something nearby that would serve as a suitable host, and more importantly, if it is something the spirit has a connection to, then the spirit can inhabit that, instead of moving on to whatever comes after death. I believe you recently had a small lesson in connection?”

Hilda nodded in affirmation.

“Good, good. That saves me a little bit of time. So anyway, the same magic that destroyed your old body, made you a new body at almost the same time, and more incredibly, connected your spirit to the new body, so your soul would transfer over without any issue. An incredibly complex spell. I’m still not sure how it’s able to create the connection needed to hoist the old spirit… But that’s a puzzle for another day. Kaspakona, bless her heart, didn’t mention any of this to you, because she did what she thought was best. And for better or worse, she did save your life. Don’t blame her, for what comes next, hmm? But regardless. I, rather selfishly, interceded, and in that moment your soul was left floating, I brought you here so I can ask you my question.”

He clasped his hands and leaned very far forward, an intense expression suddenly on his face.

“And I must warn you, this is very important. I must insist you answer honestly. Are you ready?”

After a moment's consideration, Hilda nodded. It was just a question after all, surely it couldn’t be that bad.

Nobody breathed in dramatically, somehow leaning forward even further.

“Why do you explore?”

Hilda blinked. She had been expecting something more. Why explore… Why did anybody do anything? It was simply what she wanted to do.

Nobody shook his head.

“No, that isn’t the answer. Dig deeper, please.”

DId he just read my mind?

“The explanation is a little more complicated than that, but ‘mind reading’ is a decent enough way to describe it. Please though; your answer?”

Hilda decided she would worry about mind reading later, because the question was really starting to bug her. Why did she explore? Did it go any deeper than something she wanted to do? Would she really feel the longing she felt if it was just something she liked? She liked to do plenty of things, but never felt a longing for them. What about the exhilaration of discovering something new? The feeling of purpose she felt when seeing new sights? When she was out exploring, she felt right. Like she had found her purpose. She didn't explore because she wanted to, she explored because it was what she knew she was supposed to do.

The man, still holding her gaze, gave a wide grin.
“An excellent answer!” He quickly opened the book again, and excitedly started writing, humming to himself.

“That is all I needed, thank you very much Hilda.”

The room started to disappear, fading to the black void at the corners. Hilda looked around concerned.

“Do me a favor, and don’t mention this little chat to the dragon, mmm? She won’t like me interfering like this.” He gave a soft chuckle. “Not that she could do anything to stop me.”

Who is this guy?

In answer to her thought, the man looked up at her one last time.

“Don’t worry yourself about me, as I said, I’m Nobody important.

He leaned in, and whispered conspiratorially

“And if I’m being honest, I’m not actually supposed to be in this story.”

He gave a mischievous smile and a wink, and then he, and the entire room vanished completely. She suddenly found herself back in the dim blue cave. She fell to the floor, throwing her arms out to catch herself. Except her arms didn’t move as she expected, flailing wildly. They did manage to stop her from fully hitting the ground, but she didn’t seem to have full control over them. She stood, or rather, tried to stand as her legs too didn’t seem to respond as they should. They moved too quickly, and they didn’t seem to be where they felt they were. She ended up as a heap on the ground. Someone was talking above her, but the words had a strange musical pitch to them. Hilda thought she could tell the exact tone and key of each word. The sound was crisp and sharp, as if she’d always had cotton in her ears and pulled them out for the first time. She could also pick out other sounds that the talking normally would have covered up. The sound of the water dripping, which she could now precisely pinpoint without looking. She awkwardly tried to roll over, but something caught her lower back and prevented her from fully rolling over. She settled for an inelegant side position, craning her neck to look up at Kona, who was still talking.

“...a little while for a mind to control a new body, you’ll get the hang of it in no time. There was this one time a new drekamaður couldn’t figure out how to grab anything for nearly 2 weeks!” Kona started laughing. “He tried everything from his elbows to just using his teeth!”

Hilda just stared at the dragon, at her scales. She could see every single scale, every intricate detail. She saw that one was missing just above Kona’s left eye, she could see that a patch on Kona’s arm was older than the rest. She could pick out a tiny beetle crawling on the far wall. And the color, everything had so much color! The crystals no longer gave off only blue, but instead gave off hundreds of different shades. Shades she’d never seen before, colors she’d never seen before. The accents on Kona, which had appeared to be red, actually had very subtle streaks of yellow and orange throughout. She looked around in awe. She moved to her knees, slowly growing accustomed to how her limbs worked.

“See? You’re getting it already.”

Hilda attempted to stand, and after a bit of a struggle, was able to get on to her feet. She took a few shaky steps, but almost fell over again. She felt completely unbalanced, and had to wheel her arms to stay upright. As she did, she caught a glimpse of her hand, and noticed something strange. Once she had regained stability, she brought her hands up to her face. The back side of her forearms, going from about her elbows to the knuckles, was covered in scales. Blue, mostly, except a bit of yellow and orange marbling on her left arm, and a thin red stripe on her right. Instead of finger nails, she now had a claw tipping each finger, maybe half an inch long. Her hands started shaking. Kona had warned her that there would be changes, but this seemed extreme. How was she going to hide this? A horrible image of her, going to school like this popped into her head. Kona had said she shouldn’t let anyone know, but how was she going to stop them? By wearing gloves and long sleeves all the time? Then a more concerning thought struck her.

What else changed?

Frantically she started looking at herself, using her hands to feel her face and head. Nothing else immediately stood out as abnormal, but everything felt slightly different. Had her nose always stuck out quite that far? Did her ears feel slightly lower than before? Wasn’t her chin more rounded than that? She honestly didn’t know if she was imagining it. Her hands went further up, but stopped suddenly when she felt something at the top of her head. Were those horns? Her whole body was trembling now.

Not again not again not again not again not again not again

Her voice quivering, she quietly asked

“Could I have a mirror please.”

Kona looked to the side.

“Maybe it would be better if you waite-”

“Please.”

Kona sighed, and shot a small pillar of blue flames in front of Hilda. Hilda didn’t even flinch, which was in itself concerning. The flames left a full sized mirror in front of her. Hilda looked into the mirror, but a monster looked back. A monster with horns atop a mess of blue hair. A monster with deep orange eyes, and two small pointed fangs in their mouth. A monster with scaled forearms, and clawed fingers .A monster with a short tail, tipped by three yellow and orange fins. And that monster was her.

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Hilda watched as her life crumbled down around her. For the second time in her life, her humanity was taken from her, and she was left to struggle in the remnants that remained. She looked into the mirror, and felt numb. She should have felt angry, or frustrated, or fear, or anything but nothing came. She felt like she was having a nightmare, nothing seemed quite real to her. Her mind refused to comprehend her situation. She knew what had happened, but it was like half her brain had stopped talking to the other half. She turned away from the mirror, not wanting to see the truths it told, and almost fell over, stumbling a few steps. As she had turned, the tail behind her swung out, shifting her balance in an unexpected way.

“Careful!” Kona called from somewhere behind.

“Take it slowly, it will quickly start feeling natural, if you let it.”

“Natural?” Hilda asked quietly.

Emotion was starting to return, and one in particular burned its way through.

“Nothing about this is natural! Look at me!” She roared.

Anger boiled, bringing heat to her cheeks. Her anger wasn’t directed at the dragon, not really. She was angry that this was happening again. Being forced into another body once, was plenty. She was angry that it had to be her. Angry at the universe, or God, or whatever it was that was out there that let this happen to her again. Under that, however, Hilda was surprised to find a healthy chunk of anger directed at her father, whoever he was.

She should have been prepared for this, by him. She should have someone to confide in, instead of the horrible feeling of isolation that was starting to creep in.

“I’m sorry it had to happen this way, but please try to calm down. Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to help anything.” Kona said

“Calm down? Calm down!? You cannot seriously be telling me to calm down! You turned me into a monster!”

Kona’s expression turned sour at that, but she kept her tone neutral.

“Now you’re just being dramatic. It’s not that bad, and frankly, calling yourself a monster is insulting.”

“Dramatic? I’d say this is a pretty healthy response to what you did! How am I supposed to go back to my life?”

"Hilda, please, I-"

Kona started responding, but Hilda didn’t let her.

“I’ll tell you how!” Hilda said, still shouting in anger. “I won’t, because I can’t! Did you even think about that?”

Of course I-!”

Kona tried again, face betraying her annoyance. But Hilda just barged on, not caring what the dragon had to say.

“According to your own story, the people in my town will kill me on sight now! Am I supposed to live in the woods for the rest of my life? Some sort of monster to be hunted? What kind of life wou-”

“I SAVED YOUR LIFE!” The words exploded out of Kona, echoing through the cave and leaving Hilda’s ears ringing. Hilda flinched back at the outburst, but she was too angry to back down, so she stepped forward and shouted back.

“Well maybe I wish you hadn’t!”

Kona leaned back, stunned. Hilda stood, fists still clenched.

“I might as well be dead, because my life is over! I’ll never see my mom again, or my friends, or- or any of it! I- I’ll never… I… ”

Hilda trailed off , as the anger started draining away, revealing the vast lake of misery it had been hiding. She felt the tears start to flow as the abject horror of her situation crashed into her at full force. She sank to her knees, falling forward onto her hands as sobs racked her body. She pinched her eyes shut, not wanting to see the cold stone floor, or the alien hands she now called her own, even as they clawed at the stone. The room was silent, and her sobs echoed back at her, taunting her with her own voice. She stayed that way, until she felt a hand on her shoulder, a human hand.

She jumped back, falling into a sitting position. Who was in here with her? Had they already come to kill her? Her eyes fell on a willowy woman kneeling in front of her. Her hair was a reflective silver color, flowing down almost to the floor. She wore a dress of the same color, of a modest cut that fell around her and lay piled around her knees. Her flawless skin was slightly bronze in color, and her face looked ancient without so much as a wrinkle. Something about the knowing expression, and the way her eyes seemed to take everything in at once. She didn’t show it, but this woman was clearly old. She was beautiful though. Not in the way a model or movie star would be, but in a more mature, less pronounced way. Like the beauty of a mountain, despite its craigs and rough surfaces. The beauty of nature. Hilda however, was drawn again to the woman's eyes. They were a deep orange, and looked very familiar.

“Kona?” Hilda asked, forgotten tears still running down her face.

“Yes.” The woman responded, with a devious smile. It was Kona’s voice, but it was… different. That hint of musicality was gone, replaced by a more monotone note. It was also much quieter, but regardless, it was kona’s voice. Hilda slowly climbed to her feet, wiping the tears from her face with her sleeve. Her grief was still there, as strong as ever, but her curiosity was piqued- and as often was the case, it overruled everything else in her mind. The woman, Kona , stood as well, towering over Hilda at nearly 7 feet tall. Hilda stood, looking up at the now scaleless dragon in awe.

“How…?” Was all she could muster.

Kona snapped her fingers and a new mirror appeared beside them, and Kona inspected herself. Holding up her hands, and craning to see down her back.

“I haven’t used a spell like this in a long time.” Kona said, inspecting her nails.

“It’s called an illusion, but it’s really much more than that. Really more like a transformation, but that’s such a dreadfully long word and I don’t have the patience for it.”

Kona was still inspecting herself, now with a frown.

“I’m afraid we don’t have time for a full lesson on magic, luckily the version of this spell that you need to do will mostly be instinctual.”

“Wait.” Hilda said, perking up. “I use this illusion spell too?”

“Of course. You do need a way to go back to your home after all. I do, in fact, think about these things.” She said it without ire, but Hilda blushed anyway.

“Now that you’re my Drekamaður, you can do anything I can do, to varying extents. But again, we don’t have time for everything. For now, you just need to learn one thing. How to channel magical energy. It’s actually very simple, you just have to bore a hole into another dimension.”

At those words, Hilda started laughing. She had been so emotionally stretched by the last few minutes that she had nothing left, no anger, no surprise, no fear. All she could do was laugh at her circ*mstances. Laugh as she stood in an unfamiliar body, in front of a dragon wearing the form of a human, telling her to open a hole to another dimension. Kona eyed her, annoyed.

“Is something funny?”

Hilda tried to stop, but she couldn’t. She hunched over, gripping her stomach as she laughed and laughed.It was all just so absurd. Kona just rolled her eyes and waited for Hilda to stop.

“Are you done?” She asked, once Hilda had finally stopped. Hilda just nodded, still bent over.

“Great.” Kona said with a dry tone. “Now if we could get back to the matter at hand?”

Hilda stood up straight again, nodding once again.

“Good, good. Now as I said, it is very simple.” Kona reached knelt down, motioning Hilda over. Hilda walked over, and crouched down by her, as Kona plucked a small piece of crystal off of the floor.

“As you may have guessed, these are very special crystals. Like many things, they have a sustained opening and use a steady flow of energy.”

She gave the crystal to Hilda.

“Now, you should be able to feel the energy in it. It might be easier if you close your eyes.”

Hilda held the crystal with eyes pinched shut. She did feel something. It felt like a slight vibration. No… it sounded like a slight vibration. Or, no, it smelled? Smelled like… Like something. That didn’t make any sense but it was all of those and yet none of those. She opened her eyes, and could now see a slight aura around the crystal, a slight shimmer around it, gold in color. She could even see the hole the energy came from. Less a hole, and more a small sliver that floated a few inches away from the crystal. It moved as she changed hands, trailing the crystal. It leaked that same shimmering gold, which formed a small strand that flowed to the crystal.

“Can you see it?” Kona asked, watching her.

“Yeah! Why couldn’t I see it before?” Then she looked past Kona, and a nearby cluster of crystals still on the floor, but she couldn’t see any shimmer or anything.

“Why can’t I see it on the other crystals?”

“Well, to answer both questions, you weren’t looking hard enough. If you spent the time you could pick out every single breach, but it gets old really quick. Trust me. Now, look at that tear, and imagine creating one yourself. Not too big mind you, just a small one to start.”

Hilda looked down at the small scratch in reality. She could imagine making one, but how did she do it? Should she use her hands? Or her mind? Did she push? Push on…something?

“Just imagine one that's connected to you.” Kona said, noticing her confusion.

Hilda imagined a small scratch, a few inches away from her hand. She closed her eyes and imagined that same shimmering golden aura around her, with a thin line connecting her to it. She felt something, a slight tingle across her body. She opened her eyes, and there it was! Exactly as she had imagined it, a small tear maybe an inch across slowly leaking energy to her. She could feel the energy too, like warmth going across her body, a slight tingle on her skin.

“Very good Hilda!” Kona said, clapping her hands excitedly. “Although, you’ll need a lot more energy. A tear that small would never be able to give you the magic needed for an illusion, even if you held it open for days, because your body will naturally use the energy to give you strength and stamina, even heal you. You’ll need to make a much larger tear to get the energy you’ll need for this. To close the small one, just imagine it closing.”

Hilda did just that, and the tear closed, the flow of magic stopping. She imagined a larger whole, a circle this time. A small circle appeared, about 2 inches across. A river of energy crashed into Hilda, and she recoiled physically. The warmth was now an intense, uncomfortable heat, and the tingle now felt like thousands of pins sticking into her skin. She quickly started feeling full, a strange feeling, almost like eating too much food, but instead of lethargy it brought boundless vigor. The magic wanted her to run, jump, scream, anything but sit still, but she was too stunned to do anything.

The flow didn’t stop, just because she was full. It started forcing its way in, and Hilda started feeling light headed. She cried out as she fell over, the heat now a blistering fire. The pins had turned into sand paper scraping against every inch of her. Her heart was pounding harder than it ever had, and the aura around her was so strong she had to close her eyes against the strong light. She vaguely felt Kona’s hands on her, but she couldn’t hear what she was saying over the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

It’s going to kill me!

Frantically, she imagined the hole closing. It fought back, like a raging river, it resisted being dammed. She desperately forced the hole closed, and finally the flow stopped. She lay on the ground, trying to force the energy out of herself, but it had nowhere to go, so it stuck with her. She could finally hear what Kona was shouting.

“Use it! Use it or give it to me! Hilda, it's going to burn you up!”

Hilda didn’t know any way to use it, so she tried to force the energy to Kona through the hand that rested on her shoulder. Kona accepted it, and it quickly drained away. Hilda sat up, exhausted, with a pounding headache. Her hands were trembling and she could taste blood.

That was horrible. She thought, dully.

Kona was kneeling across from her, eyes wide. Hilda could see the aura around her, and it was bright. Kona didn’t seem to mind though.

“I’m sorry Hilda, I should have warned you about over drawing magic like that. Are you alright?”

Hilda just nodded, still shaking. Kona pursed her lips, then leaned closer, putting her hands on Hilda’s head. She closed her eyes, and Hilda saw the aura around her start to diminish. As it diminished, Hilda’s headache started to fade and she felt more awake. After a few more seconds, Hilda felt as good as new, like nothing had ever happened. She sat up fully as Kona removed her hands with a smile.

“Thank you.” Hilda said quietly. Kona just shrugged.

“Are you ready to try again?” She asked.

In answer, Hilda took a deep breath. She wouldn’t be scared of this, she just needed to be more careful. So, she breached the magic realm again. A much thinner scratch - about 3 inches long - instead of a hole. The energy started filling her again, much slower this time. Still, after a few seconds she started feeling filled again, so she closed the breach. Luckily, this smaller tear was much easier to close. Kona smiled at her.

“Excellent. As I said, this next part will be mostly instinctual, so try not to overthink it. Just picture in your mind what you want to look like, then let the energy do the rest.”

Hilda did as Kona said, imagining what she wanted to look like, which was just what she remembered herself looking like. She tried for several minutes, but nothing happened. She finally gave a sigh of frustration and stood, pacing back and forth.

“Focus, Hilda. Close your eyes, and picture yourself in your mind. Every little detail, every aspect.”

Hilda stopped pacing, and closed her eyes. She focused as hard as she could, but still nothing happened.

“It’s not working.” She said, frustration slipping through.

“You must be calm for it to work. Try and relax.”

Hilda’s eyes popped open, and she glared at Kona, who responded by rolling her eyes.

“Yes, I understand that it's hard to relax right now. Just try to think of something relaxing.”

Hilda closed her eyes, keeping her grumbles to herself this time. As much as Kona was frustrating her, Hilda did desperately want this to work. She searched her mind, trying to find something relaxing, and eventually settled on a particular memory. Sitting in front of a cozy fire, reading a book in her old home in the woods. She breathed in and out deeply, focusing on the memory. After a moment, she did feel herself start to calm.

Her emotions were still a tumultuous mess, but she could rain them in, and even control them. She continued to hold the memory in her mind, but slowly shifted her focus to herself, or the version of herself in the memory. She did her best to recall the feeling of the book in her hands, the way she sat, even the way her clothes felt on her skin. The mental image formed, complete in every aspect. It was almost unnerving how perfectly she could visualize it, even if it was just herself.

That’s not me anymore.

That thought made her previous fear resurface, breaking her concentration, and the image dissolved. She took a few deep breaths, and reformed the image. It came easier this time, still fresh. She saw the image in her mind, and tried to imagine herself looking like that. The energy in her seemed to sense her desire, and it wanted to do what she wanted. All it needed was a little push, which she gave whole heartedly. The magic flowed out of her, and then the spell took hold. It felt much like getting doused with an ice cold bucket of water, and there was a faint yet audible *pop* as it took effect.

Hilda let out a small gasp at the feeling, but then opened her eyes. She held her hands up, and blessedly, they appeared as normal human hands. No scales, and no claws. She felt her face, and it was back to its old self too. She let out a joyful whoop, and started laughing. Everything would be ok now, she could go back to her life again! She had never felt so relieved in her life. Unfortunately, she quickly felt the spell fall apart. No feeling of cold water or any sound, but she looked at her hands and found them scaly.

“What happened?” She asked Kona

“You ran out of magic. Illusion spells take quite a bit of energy. Luckily, once you have the spell up, you can open a new breach and connect it directly to the spell, so it will take energy without you needing to open a breach every 30 seconds. Which is also good, because opening too many holes too quickly is dangerous.”

Hilda, who was in the process of opening a new breach, blushed. She was being hasty, there was still so much about this she didn't know.

“Why?” She asked sheepishly.

“Well, for one thing, using too much magical energy without giving your body time to rest is unhealthy. Holding magical energy is incredibly taxing, even to a Drekamaður. So always remember to give yourself time to rest after using magic. The faster you take energy, the harder it is on your body. So I would advise using only small breeches and filling yourself slowly unless absolutely necessary. The second, and far more dangerous aspect, is that opening holes to this other dimension risks attracting the attention of the creatures that live there. There’s no need to worry, as long as you don’t sustain large breeches for long periods of time.”

Hilda felt a chill.

“You mean there’s something living in there? And I’m supposed to make holes into its home?”

“Well, yes. But remember that there are many natural holes into that dimension already, and they don't cause any problems. As far as I can tell, whatever lives there is mostly friendly. But much like the trolls, each breach into their home is like ringing a bell. As long as you don’t open too many holes too big, or too often, you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

She said it with a smile, but Hilda wasn’t fully convinced. Still though, she needed this illusion. She did wince as she opened the next tear, slightly smaller than the previous. After about a minute, she felt that she had enough energy and closed it with a sigh of relief. She summoned the image in her mind, and gave the energy a push. She was prepared for the feeling of ice water, and only flinched a little. Now that she knew it was happening, she could feel the illusion using the energy she held. It used it at an alarming rate, so she quickly opened a sizable breach to sustain it. It was still using it faster than the tear gave the energy to her, so, cringing, she opened the scratch wider, until the flow rates matched each other. She was already starting to feel tired from all the energy going through her, so she looked over at Kona.

“How do I attach the breach to the spell?” She was surprised to realize that her voice with the illusion on was quite different, or rather, her new body's voice was very different, and now hearing her old voice was a bit of a shock.

“Just imagine the breach feeding the spell instead of you. If you can see the line of energy, it might make it easier.”

Hilda looked around, and now that she was looking for the line that connected her to the portal, she could easily spot it. She focused on it, and it appeared clearer. It seemed that the harder she thought about the tear and the line of energy, the easier it was to see. She tried to push the line off of herself, and onto the illusion. There was a little resistance, but not much, so with a mental nudge the line no longer touched her, instead ending a few inches away from her. The drain she felt from using the energy was gone, but the illusion stayed up. She was about to ask Kona something, but when her focus shifted from the spell, it started wavering again. She figuratively grabbed hold of it, and forced it back in line. Apparently it needs constant attention to stay up.

That’s going to get annoying really fast.

Still, it was better than nothing. She looked back over to Kona, who now had her back turned to Hilda, and appeared to be working on something. Hilda walked over, and saw that Kona was furiously scribbling on a piece of paper. She finished, and stood, looking back at Hilda.

“Ahh, good. You’re all ready, right on time.” Kona started walking towards the exit. Hilda had to jog to keep up with her enormous strides.

“Now, there would normally be no way you get home in time to stop him, so I whipped up this transportation contract. I have wards against transportation spells in here, so just sign the paper once you exit the cave, and you’ll be home in an instant.”

Hilda had many questions, but one was more pressing.

“Who am I stopping?” She asked. Kona stopped short at the question, turning to look at her confused.

“Can’t you see it in the crystals?” She motioned vaguely at the ceiling.

Hilda, now stopped as well, turned to look at the ceiling. The images the in the crystals were clear now, but they flashed too quickly and distorted in strange ways, like she was watching a movie through a kaleidoscope. There was too much to make sense of, but it looked like most of the images revolved around the Trollberg port, and a cafe looking down at it. There was somebody sitting there in some of the shots, sometimes there was someone with him, and sometimes there was nobody. What was that supposed to mean? She looked back to Kona with a questioning look. Kona gave her a look of confusion, then looked at the crystals, then back to her.

“Hmm, I guess scrying isn’t one of your talents… Well no matter. Harold, your father, is planning on leaving Trollberg. F orever. Presumably, he only stuck around long enough to get you here to me. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad plan. He can just slink away, with you none the wiser.”

Hilda’s face fell, and Kona’s face betrayed a bit of anger, but it left her with a sigh. She knelt down, so she was face to face with Hilda.

“Don’t be too harsh with him.”

Hilda gave her a flat look, and Kona looked to the side.

“Well, at least hear him out first.”

Hilda just shrugged, not making any promises. Kona rose, continuing to the door. They reached the opening, and Kona gave Hilda the paper.

“Normally, I’d make you sign a contract of secrecy, but seeing as the witches will kill you just as fast as they will kill me, I think you’ll be able to keep quiet.”

She said it with an eerie grin and a wink. Hilda just gulped in reply.

“But really now, you have to go.”

Hilda nodded.

“Thank you, Kaspakona.”

“Yes, yes, I’m very gracious, and you're forever in my debt, yadda-yadda-yadda. Now get going!”

Hilda gave a small chuckle, then started off down the tunnel. The return trip was uneventful, but Hilda wouldn’t have noticed it if anything had happened. Her mind was still reeling from so many things, she still felt like she was catching up. One thought in particular kept resurfacing.

I’m going to meet my dad .

She wasn’t sure if she was excited, or nervous, or angry, or neutral, or if she even wanted to. She still hadn’t made up her mind as she reached the end of the tunnel, and as she saw the light from the opening, she realized that she hadn’t used her flashlight at all. She looked back, confused. Had some light appeared? No, her new eyes could just see in the dark better. This tunnel would have appeared pitch black to her before, but now it was only very dim.

That might come in handy.

She continued forward, emerging from the tunnel, entering the wide entrance, and was shocked to see the pale light of morning through the cave entrance. The sun hadn’t risen quite yet, but that meant she had spent several hours there with Kona. Twig, who had been laying by her pack, jumped up, and ran up to her. He stopped abruptly, a few feet away from her. He looked at her, head co*cked, seeming confused. Hilda looked down at her hands, but no, the illusion was still active. She shouldn’t look any different, but obviously Twig could tell something was wrong. The man in the room had said she was connected to Twig, maybe becoming a Drekamaður messed with that? Hilda imagined watching Twig slowly fade away, leaving forever. She shuddered.

“It’s me, Twig.” She said with a smile, trying to rid herself of the horrible image.

But as she took a step toward him, he shied back, taking a few steps away. It hit Hilda like a punch to the gut. Worse, it made her control of the illusion waver. She grabbed hold of it, like a sailor holding to a rope in a storm. After a tense moment, she slowly reeled it back under her control, putting it to the back of her mind once more.

This will be harder than I thought.

She crouched down, getting down closer to Twig’s level, outstretching a hand.

“I know I changed a bit-” She said, voice cracking slightly. “-but I’m still me!”

Could she really believe that? How much could a person change outwardly before it started affecting the inside too? Could she really say that she was the same person who had entered the tunnel a few hours before? Twig cautiously walked towards her, and after a few minutes of tentative sniffing finally seemed to accept her as she was, letting her scratch him behind his ears. As she touched his head, she searched for the thread of connection ‘Nobody’ had told her about, and after a moment of searching she found it.

A small pale white ethereal string connecting the pair. She felt the relief wash over her, apparently the Drekamaður spell kept previous connections intact. He was still hesitant though, proven by the way he flinched when she retracted her hand. She sighed, standing. Apparently that was the best she was going to get.

She walked over to the heavy pack she had left near the entrance, and stooped over to pick it up, but the pack was much lighter then she had anticipated. She had intended to just pick the bag up, but she instead hoisted the pack above her head, causing her to stumble from the sudden change to her center of gravity. She again cursed this new body, but did have to admit that the additional strength was nice.

She barely felt the once heavy pack, and felt like she could sprint all the way home. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that though, assuming Kona’s spell worked as intended. She pulled the small paper out, and walked over to the still skeptical deerfox. He reluctantly allowed her to pick him up, and place him on her pack.

She walked out of the entrance, and a few paces down further, just for good measure. With everything ready, Hilda signed the paper. It crumbled to ash, but nothing happened for a moment, and Hilda worried the spell had failed. But just like before, a pillar of blue fire enveloped the duo, and Hilda again found herself in the black void. This time, she could hear herself shout, and the sound of Twig surprised yip.

“It’s alright Twig, it will be over soon.”

True to her words, they started falling downwards, quickly picking up speed. They fell for a short time, periodically passing objects floating through the void. Hilda couldn’t tell what they were, she was falling too fast, all she saw were random blimps of color in the otherwise black void. Something appeared directly beneath her. A mere speck that quickly grew until she identified it as a door. She was getting close now, still falling at an incredible speed.

Luckily, she came to an abrupt stop just before hitting the door. Her body rotated, and she felt something hard underneath her feet so she ended up standing in front of the door. She looked around, seeing nothing else. So she just shrugged and opened the door. A blinding light came out of the doorway, and Hilda was forced to shield her eyes.

“Hello?” She called.

Nothing answered, and the light didn’t diminish so she set her jaw and marched through the doorway with a defiant gait. For a brief moment everything went white, but then she appeared inside her room, in her home in Trollberg.

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, she appeared several feet above the floor, so she promptly crashed to the floor with a dull thud. She landed on the pack, which did serve to cushion her fall, but not much, and she groaned as she stood, letting the pack slide off her back. Twig had fallen next to her, and had managed to land on his feet.

“Well, at least it worked.” She said, rubbing her back. Could she really learn to do that herself, as Kona had implied?

Why not, everything else in my life has gone crazy, so why shouldn’t I be able to teleport?

Learning to teleport seemed like the least of her problems. Her currant task was to somehow find her father and stop him from leaving. The only problem is she had no idea who he was. All she had was a name, Harold Wildsen. No description, not even a general location. She should have asked Kona, but in the moment she hadn’t thought to.

If only I had more time to look at those crystals. She thought with annoyance. Or better yet, she should have grabbed one to keep with her… She facepalmed as she reached into her pocket where the forgotten piece of crystal still sat. She had completely forgotten about it in all the excitement. She pulled the hand sized crystal out of her pocket and inspected it. The images were even more muddy now, and she couldn’t tell what any of them were about. Kona said something about this not being one of her talents, but she needed this to work. Maybe it took requests?

“Um… Show me my father. Please?” The light within the crystal paused slightly at her words, and it seemed like the images changed, but they were still to muddy to give her any information. Why were they so muddy now? Back in the cave the pictures had been clear. Maybe this one wasn’t getting as much magical energy because it was smaller? She looked for a moment and eventually saw the aura around the crystal, and it did in fact seem to be dimmer then the other crystal she had held earlier. Maybe she could give it some more? She opened a small tear and took in some energy, then tried to push it into the crystal.

Surprisingly, it worked, and the crystal drank the power greedily. The images became clearer, but still not clear. So she pulled in more power, ignoring the drained feeling it brought, and pushed more into it. The crystal grew warm in her hand, and the flashing pictures finally grew clear. They showed various parts of the city, but there wasn’t anybody in the shots. She drew in even more power, feeling stubborn. The crystal was resisting the power now, but Hilda shoved it in anyway.

“Show. Me. My. Father.” She said through gritted teeth. She had to strain now to push more power in. The images flashed faster and faster, as the crystal grew even warmer. It started vibrating. Something drove Hilda further, and she pushed even harder. It was hot enough it would have burned anybody but a Drekamaður, and it was vibrating so hard it started to hum a low pitched frequency. She gave a final push, and the flashing images stopped, and landed on a single image. A man with a scruffy beard and a yellow coat walking alone in the streets of Trollberg in the dark. Then the crystal promptly shattered in her hands.

It was strangely silent, other then the sounds of small bits falling to floor. Hilda didn’t even notice, she was too busy thinking of the man she had seen. She didn’t recognize the street, the building looked older then the houses in her area. It also looked like the scene was a few hours old, judging by the light. For all she knew it could be days old, years even. But beyond all of that, who was he? And why did she feel like she recognized him from somewhere? She knew she had seen him somewhere before, and it was driving her crazy. She did eventually clean the mess of crystal up, scooping it up then tossing in her trash can. She walked to her window, looking out on the familiar street lost in thought. Unsurprisingly, it was unchanged. She did notice small things she hadn’t before.

The brick wall opposite her that had always just been plain red, now shone a myriad of maroons and crimsons. Like the artwork of an artist gone insane, splashing colors with no discernible pattern or reason. She stared at the wall, again realizing just how much of the world had been unseen until now. The sun was just beginning to crest the horizon, the sky blossoming into color over the still sleeping homes of Trollberg. It was the most beautiful thing Hilda had ever seen. Purples mashed with blues, reds, and oranges to make a majestic symphony of color. The sunrises in her memories paled in comparison; her new eyes showing new heights of color. The beauty did little to still her anxiety, she still felt lost, and feared what the future held. She still felt like a monster in human clothes, despite the new heights of color the new eyes gave. She still felt like her life as she knew it was over, and could never be recovered. Heavy thoughts. Too heavy to dwell on.

Instead, she again considered the predicament at hand. According to Kona, she was not only supposed to meet her father today, but also somehow convince him to stay. The man who had abandoned her years ago. She did want to meet him, but she had doubts. What if he didn't want to meet her? Would her life really be any worse if she let this go? Hilda had managed just fine so far without a father, why should she need one now? What if he had left without a good reason? Kona said he had a reason, but she had been deliberately vague on the validity of it. Was there even a reason she would accept?She honestly wasn’t sure. The anger she had felt earlier in the cave had cooled into icy spite, and was still as potent as ever. Did any of that matter? Would she really pass up this opportunity, no matter how hard it might be? The ignorance was terrible, but she knew that confronting him would be worse. So she sat, letting the minutes slip by, just staring out across the city.

The last few days had been a constant stream of activity for Hilda. There had always been something she had to do next, some responsibility she had to take care of. First school, then the parade, and now this mess. Now that she had a chance to sit back she realized just how spent she was. Couldn’t she just sit here for a while? Couldn’t the world wait for just a few precious moments? In many ways she was still reeling from her transformation, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her life had been flipped on its head. As she considered that, she realized the illusion spell had stopped.

She looked down at her hands seeing blue scales. She ducked down from the window in a panic. Had anyone seen her? She hadn’t seen anyone walking below, but she wasn’t sure. She tried and failed to restart the illusion twice, but her emotions were too tumultuous to make the spell work. Twig was studying her from the other side of the room, but he hadn’t been startled to see her like this. One small blessing. She snuck her hand around the window and closed the blinds, She left the windowsill and started pacing. She walked back and forth trying to calm down, and eventually ended in front of her mirror. She had only gotten the one look at herself, and she had been a little too surprised to take in much, Now that she had more time, she got a better look at what she had become, and was surprised by just how different it was. As she had suspected, her face was different, much less rounded, with a sharper nose.

So I didn’t imagine that.

She thought idly as she explored her face with her hands. Her skin was slightly darker too, not the bronze Kona had worn, only a shade or two darker then the illusion showed. Maybe she didn’t need to worry about being recognized like this. Other then the blue hair, the new body didn’t resemble her old one much at all. Shockingly, she was taller now too. Almost 4 inches taller by the looks of it. She felt much calmer now, so she easily summoned the illusion to double check, and sure enough the illusion made her shorter. The transition had been so seamless she hadn’t noticed it until now, but now she could tell that her perspective was lower to ground with the illusion active. She made a mental note to not forget about the illusion again, then flopped onto her bed.

She was exhausted. Maybe the spell was why she felt so drained. It certainly wasn’t helping. Closing her eyes reminded her just how physically tired she was. She had been up all night, and apparently even Drekamaður needed sleep at some point. Maybe she could just take a quick nap? It would be so nice… She let herself start to drift, but then a sound stirred her. Somewhere out in the city, a distant bell tolled the morning’s coming, and with it, came a memory of a certain bellkeeper she had met a few years ago. She sat bolt upright, and ran to the window, throwing it open. She could hear it better now, coming from downtown, but that wasn’t where her eyes were drawn. Instead, she looked towards a lone bell tower on the eastern side of the city. The image in the crystal had looked a bit different, but it was the same man, she was sure of it. She had already met him, twice actually. Why did that make the thought of confronting him even harder? It did explain why she hadn’t ever run into him again, he would have tried his best to avoid her. She made up her mind. She was going to find him, and see what he had to say for himself.

And I think I know where to start looking.

A short time later, she was dashing through the Trollberg forest, which stood between her and the eastern wall. She had considered bringing Twig, but he had been adamant about staying in the house and sleeping, so she was on this mission solo. She had already left the paved city streets behind her, running as fast as she could. And fast she was, her new legs pumping away at the hard ground beneath her, propelling her through the forest at a break-neck pace. Trees passed her in a blur, small animals frantically jumping out of her way as she passed. Thick grass tried to slow her down, but she slipped right through, leaving the grass empty handed. Even the air itself couldn’t seem to stop her.She had worried she would still feel uncoordinated with her new body, but she had never felt so in control. Even at this maddening speed she crashed through the underbrush with, she felt like she was in full control. She could see every leaf, every stick, could hear the stomp of each booted foot as it hit the ground, and could feel every breath of wind against her cheek.

Kona wasn’t kidding, Drekamaður can move!

With a laugh, she took a running jump over a log that lay across the path. She underestimated how far she could jump now, and she soared over the log farther then she would have thought possible. She overshot the landing by a good 8 feet, so instead of landing on the path as intended, she crashed into a large thorn bush off to the side. She pulled herself out of the bush, unconcerned by the sharp thorns. Hilda wore a stupid grin on her face, and laughed again once she was standing on the path again. She inspected herself for cuts, but found her skin unmarred by the nasty thorn bush. Her clothes had taken some damage, her jacket especially looked like it had gone through a paper shredder. She laughed again, shedding the remains of the jacket. She was starting to feel the day's heat anyway. She took off down the path again, still smiling. She couldn’t help it, this was just so much fun! All her previous concerns were still there, weighing her down. The control of the illusion spell also weighed on her mind tugging on her. It wasn’t strong, but it was constant. Dispute all of it though, she didn’t care. At that moment, she just wanted to run.

So run she did, faster and faster, down the path, running and leaping until she popped out of the tree line in front of the home of the Bellkeeper, the home of her father. Hilda slowed her pace, looking down at her watch, and was shocked to realize that she had made the trip from her home - which was about 2 and a half miles away - in just 10 minutes. She couldn’t help smiling to herself again. The smile faded as she approached the lone cottage, oppressive thoughts crashing into her yet again. The house looked much the same as it had the last time she had seen it. A small cozy looking cottage that was built partially into the massive wall that stood resolutely behind it, moss and vines growing up the sides of the cottage, with a small patch of flowers on both sides of the path leading along. The sun hadn’t risen high enough to shine on the cottage. The grass that was still in the dark was covered in thick morning dew that vanished as soon as the sunlight touched it.

She had slowed to a walk, wanting to push the confrontation off as long as she could. She reached the door quickly, despite her best efforts, and stopped in front of it. Was she ready for this? Could she ever be ready for something like this? Despite her earlier conviction, she was starting to have second thoughts. She looked back, thinking of how nice it would be to just run through the forest for a while. She took a step towards the forest, and all the joy she would find there, but couldn’t bring herself to leave. So, before her courage failed, she raised a shaking hand to the door and knocked. No answer. She knocked again, but still, no answer. She released the breath she had held, and put a hand to her head in relief. Anything to delay the inevitable was a relief to her.

He must be up on the wall

She thought, looking over to the door on the nearby keep. She walked over, and opened the door, staring up the ladder. She started climbing before she could second guess herself, resolutely putting one hand above the other. She reached the top quickly, and listened at the trap door. She waited, listening for any movement above. After a second, a sound caught her ear, very quiet. She probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it without her newly enhanced ears.

What is that? It was a rhythmic, almost hum of a sound. She carefully and slowly cracked opening the trap door, peeking over the edge of the floor, looking for the source of the mystery sound. Hilda quickly identified the sound as soft breathing, coming from a slumped figure sitting in the far corner. She fully opened the door, setting it gently on the floor, then quietly climbed the last few rungs, not wanting to wake the slumbering form. Was this him? The man that was causing her so much grief? She stalked forward, silent as a whisper. She realized her mistake as she got closer, this was not her father. It was none other than the captain of the security patrol, Gerda. The tension Hilda had been holding dissolved, and she let out a breath. She turned from the sleeping captain, not wanting to disturb her sleep.

She paused once she returned to the ladder, a thought striking her. As far as she could tell, her father wasn’t here, and she really didn’t know of any other place to look for him, except maybe the security patrol HQ. Gerda would be his commanding officer, so it stood to reason that if anybody knew where he was, it would be her. It would probably be worth it to wake her up and ask. She walked back over to Gerda, and gently shook her arm, trying to wake her softly. At her touch, Gerda shot up violently, throwing Hilda back who stumbled back a few paces, but managed to keep her feet.

Gerda was shouting something in a language Hilda didn’t understand, throwing wild punches, as she looked around with frantic bleary eyes. Thankfully none of the furious attacks hit Hilda, most going over her head by a wide margin. She stopped after a few seconds, and finally seemed to see Hilda. She paused mid swing, then let her fist drop to her side with a yawn.

“Oh it’s just you. Hello Hilda, long time no see.” Gerda said, yawning again. Gerda wore a standard uniform, with her signature hat. Now that she had calmed, she was standing with a noticeable slump, and there were dark bags under her eyes. She was clearly exhausted.She shambled over to the railing, lookin out into the forest.

“What brings you to this part of the wall?” Gerda asked, now leaning against the nearby railing.

“Oh…I, uh…” Hilda wasn’t sure what to say. Should she tell her the truth? Would it hurt anything?

Gerda stood straight suddenly, a worried look on her face.

“The witches didn’t send you, did they? Do they know I am up here?”

“Huh? No, the witches didn’t send me.”

Gerda let out a sigh of relief and rubbed her forehead with a hand.

“Thank God. They’ve been hounding me nonstop!” She walked back to the chair and sat down. She took her hat off and dropped it next to her, leaning her head back on the wall.

“Why are the witches hounding you?” Hilda asked, genuinely curios.

“Oh just the normal things, they want official recognition, control of the city, blah blah blah. But it is worse now that the stupid Raven didn’t show up. Now they are claiming that it’s a sign of bad things to come, and that the city will not survive unless I turn control of it over to them. And, of course, they keep bringing up some magical pit they want to me to dump the cities food storehouse in. I mean honestly!” She said, exasperated.

Hilda had a sneaking suspicion she knew what this magical pit was, but she didn’t say anything about it. Instead she just said.

“That’s normal?”

Gerda just sighed and nodded.

“Ever since I took over, at any rate.”

She looked like she was going to say more, but she paused, and squinted at Hilda, looking her up and down quizzically.

“I’m sorry, but you just seem different. Am I missing something?”

“Oh, well, we haven’t talked in awhile.” She chuckled nervously.

Is it really that noticeable?

Gerda seemed to accept that and just shrugged.

“Anyway, what can I help you with? I assume that is why you are up here?”

“Oh, no, not really. I was just looking for the Bellkeeper.”

Gerda sat up straight, and looked at her sharply.

“And why would you be looking for him?” She asked

Hilda made up her mind, telling Gerda the truth probably wouldn’t hurt anything.

“Well… I recently discovered that, we are…”

She looked to the side, suddenly feeling awkward.

“…related.”

Gerda leaned back, her expression going dark.

“I see. That…explains a few things.” She slowly stood, then without warning, slammed her fist into he wall, causing Hilda to jump. Gerda took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.

“He quit, yesterday. I don’t know where he is now.” She finally said. Hilda just nodded.

“Well, thanks anyway.” She turned, heading for the trap door.

“Hilda, wait just a moment.”

Hilda turned back to see Gerda rummaging in her coat pocket. She eventually pulled a small picture frame out, and held it out to her.

“I found it in the trash downstairs when I was switching the bag out. I think it belongs to you, no?”

Hilda walked forward and took the picture, looking it over. Harold and Johanna stood in front of the old house in the wilderness; a small child in their arms, doubtlessly herself. She had brown hair, the same shade as her mothers. She had to admit, It was strange to see herself without blue hair. Her eyes were mostly drawn to the man, who appeared as a stranger. She could see hints of the bellkeeper as she knew him, but they were faint. The hair color, and the eyes were all. In the picture was a well groomed, straight backed man, completely unlike the shaggy, crochety man she had met.

The cool anger inside roared back to life. How could he leave this? She looked up and saw that Gerda was studying her again, presumably trying to discern what was different about her. Hilda met her gaze, and Gerda eventually looked away, muttering something about kids growing up so fast. Hilda thanked her again, and climbed down the ladder, picture secured in her pocket. She emerged from the bell tower, still dark in the early morning shadows. Where to now? She could try to find the street she had seen inside the crystal, but that would take too long. In the cave with Kona, she had seen a lot of scenes of the docks. Maybe she could check there? If he was planning on leaving the city, a boat seemed like a good way to do it, so why not? With that she took of into the forest, sprinting towards the city.

About half an hour later, she found herself racing towards the docks, running down streets and flying by the first of the early morning street goers. There weren’t many of them, and they all walked with an indescribable nervous energy. Glancing around too frequently, and walking just a little too fast. It was slightly unnerving to see the usually busy streets, usually filled with kind people, so empty and quiet. People were really on edge, who knew the Raven was so important to them. She was still worried about her friend, but she would have to try and find him some other time. Unfortunately, she had more pressing things to do today.

She arrived at the docks, which were blessedly as boisterous as usual. Scruffy sailors milled about in every direction, calling out to each other over the sound of the waves and seabirds. The salty scent of the sea hit Hilda as she stepped foot onto the wooden port, and she was almost run over several times by red haired sailors. She dodged through the crowd towards some stacked boxes that she climbed on top of to get a view of the area. There were several ships docked, one in particular that looked like a passenger ship. She didn’t see her father in the crowd anywhere. He might have already boarded, so she jumped down from the boxes and made her way towards the boat. She approached the gangplank, but was stopped by a stout woman wearing a captains hat.

“Do you have a ticket?” She asked, looking Hilda up and down.

“Oh, no I don’t. But I’m not looking to boa-”

“Sorry lass, you can’t board without a ticket.” The woman interrupted, motioning her to back away while looking back to the docks for potential customers.

“No, I just need to ask you-”

“If you want a ticket you can go buy one from the dock masters office.”

Hilda put her hands to head.

“No, listen! I’m just trying-”

“Hey now, there’s no reason to get snippy with me!” The woman said, sounding annoyed.

“I just want to ask-!” Hilda tried again, but the woman cut her off again.

“Look,” She said, looking around, then leaning conspiratorially.

“if you can’t afford a ticket, I might be persuaded to let you on, if you got me some peppermint tea from the seaside cafe.” She gave Hilda a wink, then pointed upwards behind towards the city.

Hilda turned to see where she was pointing, ready to try again, but the words died on her lips. Sitting a top a small cliff, overlooking the docks was a small cafe. It was the cafe she had seen foggily in the crystals. She absently thanked the woman, then took off towards the city. The cafe had to be important, and she clearly wasn’t going to get anywhere with that frustrating woman. She left the docks behind, and quickly found herself at the top of the cliff, looking out at the vast ocean beneath. The tables were unoccupied, except one. A solitary man sat, looking out across the bay. It was him.

She stood, frozen by the entrance. What did she do? At the sight of him, all her resolve fled, leaving her with nothing but fear and apprehension. But she couldn't stop now. She put a foot forward. Then another, and another. She walked mechanically, slowly making her way over to the lone man. Her foot steps were quiet, almost silent. She paused a few feet away, unsure of what to say. Would he be angry? Surprised? Fearful? Would he try to apologize? Would he try to justify himself? What would she do? Could she look him in the eye? Suddenly, he stood. Hilda’s hands started shaking, so she clenched them into fists at her side. He seemed to turn around in slow motion, each second passing like hours. After what seemed like an eternity, they stood, facing each other. He did indeed look surprised, horrified, really. He quickly plastered on a smile, and gave her a wave.

“Hello there.”

Hilda didn’t say anything. She didn’t think she could hide the boiling anger that had resurfaced. So they stood in silence, Hilda deathly still, Harold shifting on his feet nervously.

“Well…” He finally broke the silence. “I guess I’ll just be leavi-”

She cut him off, finally speaking. And she was right, she could not keep the anger out.

“So just like that, huh? No goodbyes or anything.” Her expression betraying the rage she felt. She stepped forward, glaring up at him.

“I, well-” He took a step back “I mean, I, well I-”

She didn’t let him get it out, she didn’t care what he had to say.

“Just going to disappear again? Vanish for another 12 years without a word?”She was shouting now, voice echoing across the cafe.

Curious workers peeked over, but quickly went back to their work, doubtless not wanting to get involved in ‘a public scene’. She took another step forward, but couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her emotions were too raw for words, so instead, she reached into her pocket and slammed the picture onto the table so hard the glass cracked. Harold looked down at the picture in abject horor. He starred for a moment, then looked to the side at the exit. His body tensed.

He’s going to run. Hilda realized. She could stop him, or run him down, but she decided she wouldn’t. She had done what was required, she had confronted him. If he still left, then she didn’t care. The thought was cold, and made Hilda feel cold. His foot shifted, and Hilda prepared to step to the side, out of his way. But then he looked at her, and he froze. He expression grew concerned, a look she had only ever received from her mother before. Hilda realized she was crying softly, she hadn’t felt it through the cold she felt. Harold let out an inaudible sigh, then motioned to the table.

“Lets have a talk.”

Hilda looked at the table, still fuming. She wanted to lash out, maybe yell some more. But no, Kona had asked her to give him a chance. So, she sat at the table, keeping her mouth shut. He sat across from her, nervously clasping and unclasping his hands. He looked up, to the side, at the picture, at the ground, over at the cafe. Anywhere but her. She, in turn, never took her eyes off of him. They sat in silence. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again. They sat for awhile longer. He opened his mouth, and then closed it without saying anything. More time passed. He opened his mouth. Hilda waited, tense. He closed his mouth. Hilda rolled her eyes, letting out a low growl.

“Oh just say something!”

Harold jumped, then looked at her sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I just, well - I mean, uh-” He stuttered. He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to form a coherent sentence.

“How, uh, did you get back so fast?” He asked nervously.

“Oh I’m sorry, is it inconvenient that I got back soon enough to thwart your little plan?” She asked, anger slipping through.

“No! Or, well, yes, but not like that.”

Hilda narrowed her eyes.

“Not like what? Not like you got caught trying to run away again? Not like you abandoned us again?”

He sat up.

“Us?” He looked around frantically. “You didn’t tell Johanna did you? You can’t!”

Hilda just stared at him. She felt sick. She knew it would be hard, but this was something else entirely. She shook her head, and he visible relaxed. She wanted to leave, let him go and just go home and sleep. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from this man, but somehow this was worse then her worst nightmares. The only thing stopping her was the one question. ‘Why did you leave?’. She was struggling to still care. Did the reason really matter? The outcome was the same. This was her only chance though. She was never going to see him again after this, so why not.

“Why did you leave?” She asked quietly, unable to meet his gaze anymore. Harold in turn looked confused.

“Did the dr-” His words chocked off, and he started again.

“Did she not tell you?” Hilda shook her head, still staring down.

“Oh… Well, to put it plainly, I was cursed when I was younger. I bring bad luck wherever I go. I figured you two would be better off without me.” He shrugged.

“Seems like you’ve done good on your own.” He had the audacity to smile.

Hilda just laughed. It was a humorless laugh, the last resort of someone who had nothing left to give. She stopped after a few seconds.

“That’s it?” She asked incredulous.

“Should there be more?” Harold asked, confused.

“Kona really made it seem like there was an actual reason.” She said, chuckling. He opened his mouth, but she interrupted, not caring about whatever he was going to say.

“Enjoy your boat ride, and don’t worry. I won’t tell Johanna anything.”

She tried, and failed, to keep the spite out of the last part. She stood ready to go, but he motioned for her to wait, so she waited half way out of her seat, expectant.

“I didn’t want to leave, I only did to protect you two. “ He said it earnestly, but Hilda didn’t buy it.

“Don’t lie to me.” She sneered. “We could have handled a little ‘bad luck’. You just wanted a reason to leave. You’re pathetic.”

She expected him to shrink, but instead some color rose in his cheeks, and his expression turned angry.

“Don’t you dare! You have no idea what I’ve been through!” He was speaking through clenched teeth.

“This curse killed my father, It practically killed my mother, and it almost killed you too! It’s not ‘a little bad luck’, it’s deadly!”

Hilda wasn’t sure what to make of that. Did she believe him?

“Why would you get married in the first place if you had that bad of a curse?” She asked suspiciously. Surprisingly, he did wilt at that, leaning back into his seat and almost seeming to age in front of her.

“I…I didn’t know. I thought it was all just coincidence, but when I went to the mou-” He chocked off again.

“When I got to that place, ‘she’ told me about it. It seems so obvious in hindsight…” He sighed, defeated. “Maybe I just didn’t want to see it.”

“Well why didn’t you try to get rid of the curse instead?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know how, and I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to plan. I only a few hours between making the decision to leave and actually doing it. I have tried a few things since then, but nothing worked.”

Hilda felt a bit of hope that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel until now. Maybe her father wasn’t a horrible person, maybe he truly had loved her, and had left because he had no other choice. She wasn’t sure yet, only time would tell.

“Well I’m sure we can do something about it, surely Kona mentioned something?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I couldn’t do anything about in 12 years. Look, I’m sorry things turned out this way, I know I’ve left a mess, but I tried my best, honestly. It’s best for everyone if I just leave.”

He stood to go.

“Wait! We can at least try right?” She said it, and couldn’t keep the desperation out of her voice. She was so close, she wouldn’t let it fall apart now. He looked at her, and she was surprised to see the same desperation in his eyes. With that look, she knew he wasn’t lying. He was truly leaving because he thought it was for the best.

“Well, my ship doesn’t leave for a few hours. I guess we can try. But, if we can’t do anything, you have to agree to let me go.”

Hilda swallowed. “Fine. Now, what did Kona say about it?”

Harold sighed. “She said only a witch could remove it. I’ve seen a few around, but they won’t talk to me. I’ve tried several times to find the witches tower out in the wild, but I never did.”

Hilda just smiled.

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Harold stood next to his daughter, at the bottom of the steps to the Trollberg city library. It looked much the same as it had the last time he had seen it - about 4 hours ago - except there was now a bustling crowd going up and down the steps. Dozens of people coming and going, some in large groups, and some alone. The same nervous energy he had seen around the city was present here, but it seemed to be softened here for some reason. He glanced back down at Hilda. They had walked from the docks, mostly silent. He had tried to think of something to say, but everything had sounded lame in his mind. He had to say something, anything would do.

“So… The library? Are we getting a book?” He asked, trying to sound enthusiastic. He ignored the impulse to cringe at the awkward words. She turned to face him, and opened her mouth to answer him, but then seemed to notice the crowd walking around them. She closed her mouth, and instead said.

“Something like that.”

He just raised an eyebrow. She had seemed excited when she first told him of their destination, but the closer they got the more reserved she had become, seeming lost in thought. Now that they were standing at the steps, she looked like she wanted to do anything other then go inside. They stood there in resumed silence for a few more minutes, until Harold finally grew impatient.

“Are we going to go in?” He asked

“Of course! We came all this way after all…” She gave a nervous chuckle, then started up the steps. Harold started up after her shaking his head. As the climbed the stairs, he couldn’t help but notice that she continuously looked down at her hands, as if she thought they would suddenly change.

“Um …Is everything alright?” Harold asked, as she looked at her hands for what must have been the 5^th time. She put her hands down sheepishly, looking like a child caught reaching for the cookie jar.

“Yep! Everything's great!” She gave a forced smile, them increased her pace quickly leaving Harold behind. He cursed softly under his breath and he raced to catch up. They reached the doors, but again Hilda hesitated. Harold just walked past her and threw the door open, walking in. The library had changed significantly since his youth, many new shelves lined the old open areas. A few computers and even a printer now occupied once comfy reading nooks. The library was fairly empty, as it was a school and work day for the city. The few patrons were mostly students who were researching something for their studies. He walked in further, taking in the surroundings. He turned, wanting to ask Hilda what they were doing, but she was still standing near the door.

She seemed to be intently concentrating, and her expression was nervous. What was she so worried about? He felt like he should do something, comfort her in someway, but what was he supposed to do? He had always assumed parenting came naturally, but he had no instinct, no guide for this. She finally started walking into the building, walking timidly, as if afraid she would break the floor beneath her. Harold followed, perplexed. Again he wondered what on earth she could be so worried about. They walked into the library, past isles and tables. Hilda peeked down each isle, looking for something. Harold followed in silence, enjoying the nostalgic feeling he got from being back in the building after so many years. So many things had changed, but it was nice to see that somethings stayed the same. As much as he was enjoying this little trip down memory lane, he was very conscious of the time that passed. The boat was leaving in just a few hours.

Is that still your plan? To leave? Even now? He felt an immediate stab of shame. But what else could he do? All of he previous reasons still held up, he was dangerous to be around, even now he felt like he could feel his bad luck building, waiting to explode out of him, just looking for someone to hurt.

“What are we looking for?” He asked, to help get his mind off of the strange feeling.

Hilda paused in the aisle they were currantly walking down.

“I’m looking for the librarian, but I don’t see her around anywhere. She might already be downstairs.”

“I’m right here.” A soft voice said, right next to Harold. He jumped, letting out a yelp of surprise. To his shock, someone was standing next to him. That was twice someone had snuck up on him today. He must be slipping. The person standing next to him was a young woman, with purple accents in her hair, cut to about shoulder length. Her clothing was was a normal looking black skirt and grey jacket, but over that she wore what appeared to be a strange looking black cape. She had a bored expression, that turned to a frown when she looked at him. In response to his yelp, she simply raised her finger to her lips shushing him. She looked down at Hilda, and her expression turned up.

“Hello Hilda. It’s been a little while, hasn’t it?”

Hilda looked to the side, with a nervous chuckle. “Oh yeah… I’ve just been a bit busy I guess…”

The strange women opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped, as if just noticing something. She studied Hilda with a keen eye, walking around Hilda, and looking at from the side. She put her hand to her chin, and co*cked her head. She leaned down suddenly, putting her face within inches of Hilda. She, in turn, shied back half a step, giving a nervous smile. The woman stood again, still studying Hilda.

“There is something different about you.” It wasn’t a question, or even an accusation, simply a statement. Hilda adopted that same guilty look from earlier.

“Maybe.” She said, looking to the side with a shrug.

She was different, even Harold had noticed it. Presumably this woman knew Hilda better, so it was probably even more obvious that something about his daughter seemed different, off somehow. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but knowing where she had been, it wasn’t hard to imagine that she had been changed somehow. He couldn’t imagine what that would manifest as, but hopefully nothing harmful. The strange woman knelt, putting a hand on Hilda’s shoulder.

“There’s nothing wrong with changing Hilda. I’m still your friend.” She gave a smile, but Hilda just shrugged again, but did look back up. Harold found himself jealous, it had been so natural! Why couldn't he talk like that?Hell, he’d settle for just not standing around like an imbecile. The woman stood back up, turning her attention to Harold, looking him up and down, raising an eyebrow.

“So who’s this then?”

Hilda looked over at him. “Him? Oh, he’s…” She seemed to be searching for the right word. The silence stretched, and Harold found himself shuffling uncomfortably. Hilda clearly didn’t want to say that he was her father, which he understood, even if it did sting a little bit.

One thing at a time. He thought,strangely feeling sad at the sentiment.

The woman looked from Hilda, to him, and back again, expectant. Hilda eventually closed her mouth, looking away.

“I see.” She said slowly “Well, in any case, what can I help you with? You were looking for me, no?”

Hilda nodded. “We need some help breaking a curse, and I figured that somebody around here could help.”

“A curse? What kind of curse?” The woman asked, skeptically. Hilda looked up at him, motioning for him to explain.

He stuttered for a moment, not expecting to be put on the spot like that. He eventually got himself together enough to speak coherently.

“I got cursed - a long time ago now - and I bring bad luck to anyone I stay around for too long.”

She nodded slowly. “Well, that shouldn’t be too bad. Even I can probably do something about that. If you two will just follow me to the study, we can get started.” She turned to go, and Hilda looked up at him and gave an encouraging smile. He couldn’t help but give one back. Maybe everything would turn out ok after all.

“Oh!” The woman said, turning back around as if remembering something.

“How rude of me. My name is Kaisa, nice to meet you.” She held out her hand.

“Harold.” He replied, reaching his hand out to take it. As soon as their skin made contact, Kaisa let out a hiss and recoiled. She clutched her hand, as if in pain, shooting him an angry look. She said some words in a language he didn’t understand - but judging from the context he assumed it was some kind of curse - and looked her hand over as if inspecting for damage.

“Bad luck?” She whispered harshly. “Bad luck? You don’t have bad luck, you’re a ticking time bomb of doom!”

Harold, who still stood dumbly with his hand outstretched, let it slowly sink to his side.

“Leave this place immediately, before you burn the building down or something!”

“Wait, what? You mean the curse is really that bad?” Hilda asked, sounding concerned.

“That bad? That is the worst curse I’ve ever felt! That’s the worst curse I’ve ever heard of!”

Hilda looked at him, and he just shrugged. He’d tried to warn her. Hilda looked back to witch, pleading.

“Surely there’s something you can do! Or maybe Tildy could help?”

Kaisa shook her head. “There’s nothing I can do about a curse that strong, and I don’t think my mentor could do anything about it either. It is very powerful, and he’s carried it for a long time. It’s like a tree; the roots are deep within him now.”

Hilda looked down, and Harold felt his heart sink. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. At least now Hilda would understand why he had to leave. Kaisa sighed, but put her hand on Hilda’s shoulder.

“The council might be able to do something. They are the most powerful group of witches in all of Trollberg.”

Hilda groaned. “They hate me, they’d never help!”

Kaisa looked to the side. “Well… It’s true you are not their favorite, and I cannot guarantee they will help, but it’s at least worth trying right?”

Hilda nodded immediately, so Kaisa snapped her fingers, causing a small purple ribbon to appear. She handed it to Hilda.

“This is a witch voucher, the council is pretty busy these days so they won’t talk to anybody without one.” She looked to the side a little sheepishly.

“Just, uh, don’t tell them you got it from me, eh?”

Hilda gave a small chuckle and nodded, to which Kaisa responded with a smile.

“You remember the way down?” She asked. Hilda thought for a moment

“I think so… what was the trick in room seven?”

“You have to find the hidden raven and put him in his nest.” Kaisa responded immediately.

“Right!” Hilda said, snapping her fingers.

“Alright, well then get going!” Hilda gave her a quick hug then dashed down the isle.

Harold started to move after her.

“Hey!” He looked back to see Kaisa glaring at him. “Don’t touch anything! I don’t need you infecting anything with bad energy.”

Harold wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he just gave a thumbs up then jogged after Hilda. Then went up to the second floor, along a path he new well. In fact it almost seemed like they were heading towards the secret room… Hilda stopped right in front of the book case, exactly the same as he remembered. She did the trick, and it slid out just enough for them to walk in.

“This place hasn’t changed a bit!” Harold said with a laugh.

Hilda was across the room, messing with something on one of the shelves, but looked back to him quizzically. “You’ve been in here?”

“Been in here? I practically spent my childhood in here! I was the only one in the whole school who knew about this place.”

He couldn’t help but give a self-satisfied smile at that.

“Oh that’s very impressive.” Hilda said.

She finally seemed to finish whatever she had been doing, and a part of the wall next to her popped out, reveling another secret staircase. A secret room, in the secret room. Harold slapped himself on the forehead with a resounding smack. It seemed so obvious now. Hilda looked back with an insufferable smile. Harold just rolled his eyes and motioned for them to go on. The second room looked much like the first, with a few different ornamentations. Hilda again walked over to one of the shelves are after a few moments of searching found a hidden switch, revealing yet another hidden door. Thankfully she didn’t rub it in this time.

They went through room after room, each one stranger then the last. The silence between them resumed, and he was helpless to stop it. He wasn’t good with words at the best of times, and needless to say this was far from the best. At she didn’t seem actively angry anymore, which was a bit of relief. She did feel distant though.

And why wouldn’t she be? I’m practically a complete stranger.

It was true, as much as he would like to avoid it. He honestly knew next to nothing about her, hell, he wasn’t even exactly sure when her birthday was. Why was she even trying to help him? She didn’t owe him anything. And yet, she had come looking for him. She must have raced back as fast as she could to make it back to the city, just to meet him. She was offering him anther chance, whether he deserved it or not. Something sparked inside of him, a small flame of hope. Maybe there was a way things could be better, maybe they could figure something out, maybe he wouldn’t have to leave after all. Is that what he wanted then? To stay? Yes, it was. Did he want it enough to work for it? Yes, he would. He stopped on the stair case they were on. Hilda continued down a few steps, but stopped when she noticed he was no longer following. She turned around, quizzical.

“How do you like school?” He blurted out. It was the first question that came to mind, so he used it. She stared at him blankly.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.” Harold said sheepishly, feeling a bit of color come to his cheeks.

“I just thought we could maybe… I don’t know… never mind. Come on lets keep going.” He pushed past her almost running down the stairs.

What a stupid question. Asking about school? Now of all times?

He hastened down the steps, it had been a silly thing to try. Why couldn’t he ever think of anything clever, anything interesting thing to ask about? Why couldn’t he be more like that librarian, or Johanna for that matter? She’d always known exactly what to say.

“I like history.”

He froze, a few stairs down past Hilda now. He turned back to face her slowly. She was staring intently at the floor, and looked about as awkward as he felt.

“I like my teachers, and most of the other students are ok. Not all of them, but I try not to let it bother me.”

He just stood there, dumbly. That had worked? He truly couldn’t believe it. She must want this as bad as he did. She looked up from her feet at him, staring at him expectantly, and he realized that she was probably expecting him to say something.

“History is nice.”

Hilda just stared at him, clearly expecting more. He cleared his throat, frantically searching for something to say.

“Uhm… Does Mrs Hallgrim still teach that class?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t like me very much though.” Hilda said looking to the side. Harold felt a grin creep across his face.

“She never liked me much either.” He said with a chuckle. Hilda met his eyes, and gave a smile. And just like that, the worry Harold had felt was gone. They continued talking as they walked through room after room, and by the time they reached the last hidden room, they were chatting amiably, and Harold knew a lot about her. She was honestly a lot like he had been when he was younger. Adventurous, and stubborn. Hopefully things would turn out better for her. The conversation finally died as Hilda opened the last door, revealing a massive chamber. The ceiling went up incredibly high. They stood on a circular tier, that ran around the cylindrical chamber, with dozens of tiers above them. Some of the tiers had bridges connecting each other, spanning over the center.

Incredibly, there appeared to be several tiers below them as well. How could this have been hidden under the library all this time? Dozens of people milled around, some in groups chatting, some alone. They wore all matter of clothing, some strange and some normal. Some were followed by strange looking animals, and most had colored hair. Colored hair wasn’t really that uncommon in Trollberg, but this was something else. Maybe one in one-hundred would have some colored streaks, and red was by far the most common, but here it seemed like everyone had some color. Some with colors he’d never even seen before, like orange and pink. There weren’t many of those, and unsurprisingly red was the most common down here too. After a moment though, he noticed something else. They were all women, not a man in sight other then himself.

“Under my nose this whole time…” He muttered. Then he let out a laugh.

“Welcome to the witch tower.” Hilda said, a bit of the earlier smugness returning. It was quickly overtaken but her visible unease. What on earth was she so nervous about? He decide to ignore it for now, mostly because he wanted to keep looking at the amazing sight. The room was bright, but he couldn’t see any source of light other then a few scattered torches, no where near enough to brighten the massive room. Hilda started forward, and Harold followed, still looking out at the expanse. They walked down a nearby set of stairs, and then left the large opening behind, instead going down a large hallway. Hundreds of pictures lined each wall, depicting women in different poses. Some happy, some stoic. Some had more of the strange animals in the painting, some were alone. Some of the paintings had the subject blacked out completely, leaving a detailed background. Some of the frames were empty, showing the wall behind. Some of the paintings were blurry, more suggestive blobs then accurate depictions. Harold had no idea what any of the differences meant, but there did seem to be some sort of pattern that he couldn’t quite figure out.

The hallway was mostly empty, but the few that did occupy the area gave the duo odd looks, but nobody tried to stop them so they continued down the silent halls with confidence. They eventually came to a large set of double doors, with ornate carvings and what appeared to be small lines of gold inlaid into the wood. As they approached the door, a cloud of bright red smoke puffed up suddenly. The smoke quickly dissipated, revealing a bored looking woman at a small desk that was now blocking the path. She had brown hair with a few orange streaks in a tight bun. She wore small glasses, and was hunched over her keyboard typing slowly on an old looking computer. She didn’t look up at them. The desk was covered in loose papers, and even appeared to have a phone hooked up. The small placard in front of her read: ‘Stacey. Witch council secretary’

“No one may enter the councils chamber at this time.” She said in a bored voice, still without looking.

“I can make you an appointment, but I will warn you, the council is booked solid for the next 200 years.”Shesaid it by wrote, as if she had given that same explanation a thousand times.

Harold and Hilda shared a glance. Hilda just shrugged, walking up to the desk and pulling out the small ribbon the librarian had given them.

“We’re kind of in a hurry, I don’t suppose this will get us through?”

Stacey looked over, taking the ribbon and inspecting it with squinted eyes. She gave a long sigh, then leaned over in her chair to the phone, picking up the receiver and aggressively punching in a few buttons. She waited for a moment as the phone rang, rubbing her forehead. Eventually someone answered.

“Hey Tisa, I need approv - What? No, this is Stacey. No, the other one. Yes, the secretary. Yes, I still work here! What? No I - ! Look, I need approval for a emergency meeting with the council. Yes, they have a voucher. No, they haven’t signed anything yet. No, there’s only two of them. No, they don’t have any magic weapons on them.” She held her hand over the receiver and looked back over to them.

“You don’t have any magical weapons, right?” Harold shook his head, bewildered. Stacey just nodded then went back to he phone. She answered a few more questions then hung up. She rummaged around her desk for a moment and pulled out some papers.

“Sign here please.” Harold hesitated. He had learned that signing contracts could have very binding effects. He quickly read the document, but didn’t find anything other then general legal jargon, so he signed the paper quickly. To his relief, the paper didn’t spontaneously combust, so maybe this was just a regular piece of paper. Hilda finished signing hers as well, and they handed them in. Stacey stamped each of them with something that looked alarmingly close to blood, then handed them each a neck lanyard with a badge. Harold took his and flipped it over. On it was a picture of him, and the words: ‘Harold - Visitor’. Under that, in dark red letters read: ‘Cursed. Do not touch’. He sighed and put it over his neck.

“Please enjoy your stay, and don’t touch anything.” She gave Harold a pointed look at that, and then her, and the desk puffed into red smoke.

What a strange day.

Hilda tried to be covert as she checked her hand for what must have been the 20^th time. It was silly. She had been laser focused on the illusion spell this entire time, she knew she was still hidden, but she just couldn’t help herself. Kona’s words kept ringing in her ears. She felt like everyone was watching her every step, just waiting for her to slip up. She nearly had a heart attack when Kaisa had said something about her being different. It was probably for the best she hadn’t spoken to her mother this morning, she would instantly no something was off, and Hilda really didn’t want to deal with that right now. She checked her hands one last time, and they of course looked normal, and of course, her father standing next to her noticed.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked with a frown. Hilda felt herself blush

“I’ll be fine.” Her tone was maybe more terse then she intended. She was exhausted. She was quickly approaching 48 hours of no sleep. But then again, her new body was only 12 hours old, so maybe she would be fine? The pressure behind her eyes told her otherwise. As soon as this was over, she was going to sleep for a week.

Right, time to go in.

She - barely - rested the urge to check her hands again, instead pushing the door open and resolutely marching into the chamber. The room was much as she remembered, a large cylindrical room, with a high ceiling, and a mosaic tile circle in the center of the room. What she didn’t remember was all the clutter. Piles of books riddled the room, some in neat stacks, but some just in unorganized piles, a few nearly as tall as she was. The guitar she remembered from her last visit now sat next to the witches desk, on a small stand. Apparently they had recovered it, but not the poor man who had carried it. The three witches sat at their desk, speaking quietly with each other. Hilda realized she could just barely make out what they were saying. Her hearing really was incredible now.

“ - she is still avoiding us, and now she appears to be hiding somewhere. The staff at the building were cagey about when she might return. We may have to resort to more drastic measures.”

Abagail, in her familiar black dress was speaking to the left of Aurelia, the leader of the trio, who appeared to be reading a book. The third witch - Avacyn, Hilda thought her name was - stood to the right, wearing a familiar scowl.

“Perhaps.” Aurelia said, not looking up from the book. “But I think the pressure of the city will crack her. The people grow restless from the Raven's absence. If we simply hint that the Raven will return once our demands are met, I'm sure she will come around in due time.

“But we don’t have much time left! The seal on the portal is growing weak after all these years, and the Frahn grow more bold by the day!” Abigail sounded downright panicked as she said the words, but Aurelia just waved her away with an absent hand.

“It will be fine. Do not question me.”

Abigail looked down, and cut off whatever else she had wanted to say.

They didn’t look up as the duo got closer, despite the volume of their footsteps against the stone ground, though they did stop talking. The desk was as cluttered as the room around them, and in addition, a small cage held a small white dove. The dove looked up at the sound of their approaching footsteps, and almost seemed to double take at the sight of Hilda. It immediately jumped up and started squawking. Hilda raised an eyebrow at the strange behavior. Did they have some sort of Drekamaður sensing bird? She almost laughed at the thought, but then realized that it very well might be some sort of Drekamaður sensing bird. She had no idea how any of this worked, a bird that could see through her illusion wasn't that outlandish. She almost glanced down at her hand, but was interrupted by Avacyn smacking the birds cage.

“Quiet down.” She said, much like a teacher would scold a misbehaving child. So probably not a Drekamaður sensing bird. The bird seemed to glare back up at her, but did settle back down, pleading eyes focusing again on Hilda. Something about that bird seemed very familiar, but Hilda couldn’t quite place it, and didn’t have time to worry about it, as the witches finally looked up at them. They Immediately all focused on Hilda, giving her three unique scowls.

At least they aren’t saying something about how different you are. She thought with a sigh.

She wasn’t exactly well liked by the trio, but she was hoping she could convince them to help, or when that inevitably failed, offer to do something for them to get them to help. That honestly might fail too, but she had to try anything she could. Despite everything he had done, she was really growing fond of the man walking beside her. The time they had shared walking down the secret stairs had been brief, but also wonderful. She wouldn’t give it up, not for anything. The scowls deepened as they as they approached, until they stood right in front of the desk. Hilda opened her mouth to petition them, but was cut off by Avacyn’s terse voice.

“Who let you in here?”

“Oh, uh, I... didn’t get her name.” She gave what she hoped was a convincing smile, and Avacyn just sniffed.

“Why are you here? Did we not make it clear that you are not welcome in this place?” This question came from Abagail, and she said it with the same vibrato she had used last time. Hilda winced. She had hoped that they would have cooled off in time. It had been a good two years since that whole kerfuffle at the Jorts building.

Evidently not.

“Well, you see,” She said, motioning to Harold. “He has a terrible curse, and we were hoping you could help.”

She gave another smile, but let it drop quickly, noting the witches deepening scowl.

“No. Go away.” Aurelia said, without so much as looking up from her book. The other two looked away as if that was that.

“Look. We really need your help, this is a really bad curse. I’m sure we could work out some sort of deal? I’m sure there’s something I could do for you. Maybe some pruning of magical plants? I’m really good at that.”

“No.” The frowns deepened

This was bad. Hilda had expected some hem and haw, but this was complete and utter stonewalling. She had to convince them somehow, but how was she supposed to that when they shut her down at every opportunity?

“There’s got to be something we can do for you.” Hilda pleaded.

“I could get you some rare magical ingredients from the forest!”

Aurelia let out a growl of frustration, slamming her book closed and pointing a finger at Hilda.

“You don’t seem to realize where you are. We do not take requests. We do not barter for favors. We are the council of three, not some common herbalist. We are to be shown the respect we are warranted! ” Aurelia said, almost shouting. Hilda just rolled her eyes. She should have known the council of three would be useless, they never helped anyone. Something flashed on her chest, and looking down she saw that her name tag had changed from: 'Hilda. Visitor' to instead read: ‘Hilda. Unwanted annoyance’.

That’s just petty.She thought, looking back up.

She had a retort ready, but it died on her tongue when she noticed a faint aura that had appeared around Aurelia. After a moment of confusion, Hilda realized it was the aura of magical energy! Although, it seemed… off somehow. The glow was slightly iridescent, like oil in a puddle of water. The glow suddenly left Aurelia, rushing across the room, until it formed into a giant golden glowing hand, which promptly grabbed Harold, lifting him into the air a few inches. Harold shouted in surprise, as the fist started moving him towards the door.

“Hey! Let him go!” Hilda shouted. Aurelia looked back to the book she had been reading, ignoring her shouts.

“We have already asked you to leave. Seeing as you can’t understand something as simple as that, we will remove you ourselves.”

Hilda watched as Aurelia built up another aura, and pushed it towards her. A glowing hand appeared in front of Hilda and grabbed her as well. As soon as the glowing hand touched her, she felt just how wrong it was. The wrongness coated her like a film of oil, making her squirm. She wanted to scream, but the wrongness was choking. She felt the wrong try to get inside of her, poking at the strand of energy that fed the illusion. It was going to sever it if she didn’t do something, so acting quickly, she opened a large breach, and took control of the illusion directly. As soon as she started to fill herself with energy, she immediately felt the strain, and it was a good reminder of just how tired she was. No time to worry about that now, feeding the illusion directly was too tiring, she wouldn’t be able to do it for long.

The wrongness had initially shied back when she first filled herself with energy, but it was now starting to creep back, trying to get inside of her. She needed to get free of this hand. She tried to free her arms, but she was locked in tight. She tried again, more desperately but to no avail. The choking sensation returned, and she started thrashing in the hand, trying to get out. She was truly starting to panic. She pushed with everything she had, pulling in more magic hoping it would give her weary muscles enough strength to overcome the fist. Curiously, with the increase of magic, came an inclination. The magic seemed to want her to push it with her mind. So, going by instinct, she pushed the energy with her mind, using it as a lever against the hand that held her. The energy happily left her body, but was stopped short when it came into contact with the glowing hand. She pushed a little harder, and without warning the hand around her exploded into golden glowing ash. The energy didn’t just puff away however, instead, a small blue shimmer snapped into a sphere around her. It extended maybe 2 feet away from her in all directions.

Hilda stared at it in awe, it was some sort of magical shield! The three witches at the desk across from her seemed just as amazed as she was. She really needed to learn more about what she could do, this was amazing! She reached out a hand and touched the blue shimmer around her, surprised at just how solid it felt. She back to Aurelia, who’s face was covered in shock. Abagail looked horrified, while Avacyn merely looked curious,. The surprise quickly melted away from Aurelia’s face, leaving a kindly smile behind. It looked strange on her, like a pig stuffed into a ball gown.

“How very interesting.” Aurelia said, a forced kindness to her words, almost like she was trying to lure Hilda with candy. “Tell me child, where did you learn that spell?”

“Oh, uh…” Hilda said, thinking quickly. “Frida showed me how to do it the other day, really simple trick actually. I’m sure she would show you if you asked her nicely.” She forced out a chuckle. She hastily dropped the shield, letting it puff away. She didn’t like the attention it had drawn to her.

“Ahh of course.” Aurelia said, giving Hilda a knowing smile.

“Well, perhaps I was a bit hasty.” The hand carrying Harold quickly zipped back over. It gracefully set him down on the stone floor, and even dusted off his jacket before puffing away.

“I would be more then happy to help with that little curse, in exchange for a little time too…study that spell of yours.”

Hilda felt herself start to panic. They knew where that shield came from, they had too.

Calm down, you’re being paranoid. If they actually knew they would have already attacked you. Just play it cool.

Even still, it took everything she had not to make a break for the stairs.

“Oh, well we should probably be leaving anyway. Lots to catch up on and all that, but maybe we could stop by later.”

She gave an encouraging thumbs up and started backing towards the door. Harold looked between the two obviously confused. She met his eyes, hoping he could see the urgency she was portraying. He looked even more bewildered, but blessedly he looked back to the witches and said.

“Yeah, we should be going. Thanks for, uh, your time, I guess.”

The witches completely ignored him, laser focused on Hilda.

“Magic like that can be dangerous, we really should make sure it’s not hurting you.”

Abigail said, as the three witches descended from the desk, walking into the circular stone floor. Hilda continued backing up, not wanting to let them get close.

“Oh don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine!”

“Oh no, we insist.” Avacyn said.

Their expressions melted into cold smiles, with predatory eyes. Hungry eyes. The sight sent a chill down Hilda’s spine. Those looks didn’t look completely human. A magical aura sprang up around all three of them, stronger then before. A glowing hand seized Harold again, carrying him off to the side of the room. Before Hilda could even think to go help him, oily strands as thick as her forearm appeared in front of her, striking like coiled cobras. She jumped to side, dodging them. As she landed, she brought up her magical shield, anticipating more attacks. She looked up just in time to see a glowing ball of energy coming straight at her.

It slammed into Hilda’s shield, making a loud sound much like thunder as the two forces met. She felt the impact in her mind, letting out a small gasp. The shield held strong, though she almost lost hold of the illusion. It was growing slippery, and she was quickly growing tired from the constant flow of energy. The oily strands came again, this time wrapping around the shield and squeezing like a snake. The shield was pressed inward, and she instinctively pushed it back out. But when she started to push on the shield, for some reason it tried to push the illusion off of her as well. She grabbed hold of the illusion again, pulling it close. This was bad, she couldn’t push on the shield and pull on the illusion at the same time.

“Let go of me!” She cried out, growing desperate. Aurelia didn’t respond, her smile deepened, and her eyes seemed to glaze, as if she wasn’t even seeing Hilda anymore. They weren’t going to stop until they got what they wanted. She again tried pushing with the shield, but again felt the illusion start to slip. Maybe if she was more experienced, she could push only the shield, but with her limited time using magic she couldn’t differentiate. Something else then. Could she make a new shield? She tried making another shield, but instead of putting it around her, what if she put it around the strange rope like things that were constricting her? She made the shield, and sent it towards the strands. Surprisingly, it worked, and the ropes were soon stuck inside a small bluish ball, about a foot across. They thrashed inside, trying to escape. For whatever reason, she barely felt the repetitive strikes. Apparently it was much easier keeping things in then keeping things out.

She kicked the ball across the room, where it smashed against the wall, destroying both spells. She grinned at the small victory, but unfortunately, there were still three witches trying there best to trap her. More spells shot towards her, a few hitting her shield, but she managed to dodge most of them. Each impact felt like a hammer strike against her mind, and she was tiring at an alarming rate. The illusion spell was gluttonous with its magic consumption, and although the shield didn't take much, it did still take. More spells came at her causing her to back up further. She soon found her back against the wall, but the witches didn’t relent, more attacks hitting her shield with increased fury. She sank to her knees, the strain almost too much. She felt panicked, there was nothing she could do! She was going to go unconscious soon at this rate, and then the illusion spell would drop, and they would know her for the monster she was.

“Stop, please!” All she could do was plead with them, but her cries fell on deaf ears. She fell the ground, shaking against the endless attacks, hoping to hold out… until what? Nobody was coming for her, and even if a witch outside heard her cries, they would just help the council. She shouldn’t have come here. Kona had warned her, and she hadn’t listened. Not even a full day as a Drekamaður, and she was already everything was falling apart.

Harold pulled his right arm free, the witches paying him no attention. The giant glowing fist still held him firmly, but it didn’t react to his movements, so he was slowly able to free himself, and after a few tense seconds he was able to pry the fingers apart enough to escape. He fell to the floor, and quickly got to his feet. Now what? Hilda had sunk to the floor, no longer shouting for help, simply shaking as the attacks fizzled on her strange shield. Why were they attacking her? She was just a kid. He had to do something, but what? He frantically searched the area for something could use, a weapon, or tool or anything. The dove in the cage was also still making a ruckus, which he did his best to ignore.

He searched the area, but it was no good, there was nothing but books as far as the eye could see. An idea struck him suddenly. He ran as fast as he could to the nearest stack of books. He grabbed one of the top and - taking careful aim - threw it at the witch closest to him. It sailed true, graceful as it flipped through the air. Just before it would have taken out the witch, it stopped a few feet away from her, frozen in the air. After a moment of floating in place, it fell to floor, harmless. They hadn’t even glanced at it, or him for that matter. Even the two birds in Aurelia’s hair were focused on the small form that lay before them.

Now what?

Was there something else he could use? Could he get help from the other witches outside? He wasn’t sure who they would side with, but he seriously doubted they would help him over their leaders. He spotted the guitar he had absently noticed when entering. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was better then nothing. He took a step toward it, but the stupid bird behind him grabbed his attention with a particularly annoying squawk. He turned to glare at it, but stopped when he noticed what it was doing. It was miming - with incredible detail - him walking over and unlocking the cage.

He had to decide between the bird and the guitar. He looked back over to the witches. Hilda was curled into a fetal position on the floor. The strange blue glimmer - the only thing that stood between his daughter and bombardment of attacks - was smaller too. He made his decision instantly. He didn’t have time to mess with some strange bird, so he took off towards the witches in a spring. He had no plan, no weapon, and no idea what to do. So he did what came naturally. He let out a bellow as he crossed the room, grabbing the strange guitar as he passed, raising it overhead like an axe. The display finally managed to pull the attention away from Hilda, and the three turned to face him. They seemed surprised, but not frightened. Almost bemused.

“Handle that Abigail.” Aurelia - the clear leader of the trio - said

The witch in the long black dress let out a sigh, but started walking towards Harold. The other two turned attention back to the cornered girl.

He doned a wild grin as he charged. Nothing was holding him back, it was simply him versus whatever was causing his family pain. And right now, that thing was a weirdo with red streaked hair and black victorian dress. Abagail raised a hand, with a black rose lightly held in the tips of her fingers. She mouthed something, and another glowing hand manifested before his eyes, grabbing for him. Harold had expected this, and dove through the closing fingers, rolling to as he hit the ground, then came up running again. He let out a wild laugh as he got back to his feet, this was almost fun. The witch was momentarily frozen, apparently shocked the hand hadn’t worked. She got over it quickly, and started shouting nonsense at him. In response to her words, thick vines sprouted from the floor, blocking his path, and starting to incircle him.

He didn’t stop, instead he brought he guitar down with all his might. It didn’t work well, but it worked better then it probably should have, and he was able to smash his way through the wall. The vines had thorns hidden in them, and shredded his skin as he passed through, leaving him bloody and enraged. Still, his pace didn’t slow. He locked eyes with the witch, and saw some concern start to show on her face, and she even took a step back. He must look a sight, bloody arms and wicked smile waving a guitar like a madman. He was only a few yards away now, and he was closing the distance rapidly. She started waving her rose and mumbling quickly, and he braced himself, trying to see whatever was coming next. A glowing ball of energy the size of his fist shot out from the tip of her rose, heading straight for his head.

He wasn’t sure what it would do if it hit him, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want to find out. He nearly stumbled as it rapidly approached him, narrowly managing to dodge it. He kept his footing, but only barely. It wasn’t done with him yet though. He watched, helpless, as the glowing ball arced back around and came back at him. He was forced to veer of course, and dodge once again. It came back again, and he ducked, cursing softly. He didn’t have time for this! An idea came to him, and as the ball came at him this time, he didn’t move to get out of the way. Instead, he fell into a slight crouch, holding the guitar in both hands. The ball streaked towards him, and at the last second he swung the guitar, hitting the ball of energy right back at Abagail. She let out a cry and threw herself to floor, letting the ball go right over her head towards the other two witches. The leader took a step forward without looking, letting the energy smack the third witch soundly in the chest.

She was blasted backwards, hitting the floor hard. She didn’t rise, letting out a low groan, apparently unconscious. Abagail looked back to her fallen compatriot in horror, then looked back up at him, but he had already resumed his mad dash. She raised her flower, trying to stop him again, but he didn’t let her finish. He threw himself forward with a powerful jump, sailing forward. She cried out, shielding herself, no doubt fearing some sort of attack. He had a different target however, and as he passed by, he snatched the rose out of her hands. He landed behind her, rose clutched firmly in one hand, guitar still held in his other. He quickly regained his feet, and started towards the now solitary witch. He stuffed the flower in his pocket, not sure if he should - or even could - destroy it. He ran as fast as he could towards the last witch. He skidded to stop a few feet away.

“Let her go!” He roared, feeling anger like he had never felt before as he looked at Hilda shivering on the floor. Aurelia ignored him, using a strange oily fist to try and drill through Hilda’s shield.

Ignore me will you?

He swung the guitar with all his might. Normally he would have thought twice about bludgeoning a woman, but this seemed like a special circ*mstance. She dodged gracefully, jumping back and almost seeming to slide across the floor, spacing herself away from the crazy guitar wielding brute. She did finally look at him, with a bored expression.

“You are quite the nuisance. But fine, if you insist on getting my attention, I shall give it to you.”

She pulled a long thin wooden wand out of her dress, and the birds in her hair ducked down, then reappeared wearing tiny helmets. He would have found it funny, if not for the small form of his daughter still laying at her feet. Seeing her like that enraged him further. Why were they doing this to her? It was clearly painful for her, but they had just kept pushing. And that look they had given, it was burned into his mind. A predatory look, that sent a chill down his spine just by thinking about it. These women were dangerous. They stood across from each other, Harold waiting for her to make a move. She studied him like someone might look at a complex math equation. No emotion, just a problem that needed solving. Harold shifted uncomfortably. He knew he didn’t need to defeat her, just buy Hilda enough time to escape.

But then what? Wouldn’t they just hunt her down again? He didn’t know. Aurelia started looking back at Hilda, so Harold rushed forward, guitar swinging. She waved her hand, and a large medieval looking shield appeared in front of her, blocking his swing and covering her completely. It hit hard, and a boom echoed through the chamber. He felt the reverberations in his arms, but surprisingly the guitar didn’t look any worse for wear. It must be have some sort of magical properties. He got over his amazement, and raised it again, bringing it down on the shield again and again. The shield didn’t budge, so he quickly ran to the side, trying to get around the large shield. As soon as he moved, the shield vanished in a puff of smoke, and a blast of energy hit him squarely in the stomach, sending him flying backwards. He hit the floor on his back, sliding a few feet.

He let out groan, feeling like he’d been hit in the head with a hammer. She must have been preparing a spell behind the shield while he stood there banging on it like an idiot. He dully realized this as he tried to make his eyes regain focus, doing his best to ignore the pounding headache that had appeared. He slowly climbed back to his feet, and he looked over just in time to see Aurelia sending another glowing fist to grab him. He managed to dodge, but was forced to retreat towards the center of the room again. She sent more energy blasts his way, that he dodged or battered away with the guitar.

It was proving to be quite the versatile tool. Aurelia didn’t let up, sending spell after spell at him. He was forced further back, ducking behind a dense pile of books. He crouched, breathing heavy. Who knew playing baseball with spells could be so exhausting? He peeked out around the books, taking stock of the surroundings. Abagail was nowhere to be seen, but he still had the flower, so she shouldn’t pose any sort of threat. The third witch was still on the ground, although she appeared to be stirring. Hilda was still curled in a ball on the floor, not moving. Aurelia was still standing between them, her expression sour. The odds actually weren’t horrible, this guitar seemed to have some ability to break the witches magic, and for whatever reason it seemed like they couldn’t just freeze him in place like the book he had thrown. He might be able to win this.

Then what? You think they’ll leave you alone just because you make it out of the tower? They can literally pop in and out of existence wherever and whenever they want.

Problems for later, one thing at a time. Although, speaking of problems, that strange sensation of something building within him returned, stronger this time. He couldn’t ignore it this time, even now it almost left him. It was a strange feeling, but he instinctively grabbed hold of it, not letting it escape. Why had he never felt this before? Maybe he had been holding this particular bout of bad luck longer then the others.

“You are seriously testing my patience, senior patrol officer.” Aurelia called, interrupting his thoughts.

“It’s not to late to leave, if you throw down your ‘weapon’, I’ll let you leave.”

It was a bluff, it had to be. But that meant she was worried, which meant his odds were probably better then he thought. He heard a squawk from the white bird in the cage still on there desk. He looked over, and it started shaking its head side to side, almost like it was telling him no. He ignored the strange bird, he already knew she was lying. So what should he do? He peeked out again, seeing that Aurelia was quietly circling around, trying to get a clear shot at him. He adjusted his position accordingly, keeping the book pile directly between them. If he could get her to circle around a bit more, he might be able to make a break for Hilda, and then the stairs. The third witch stirred again, letting out a weak groan. He probably didn’t have much time.

“Somehow I doubt you’ll actually let me go free.” He called out, hopping she would draw a bit closer. He made out the faint sound of her footsteps, moving closer to the pile, and further from Hilda. He peeked out again, still no sign of Abagail. Aurelia had gotten closer then the sound of her footsteps had led him to believe. The two birds in her hair still wore their helmets, and he swore they had angry expressions. If he could just get her to go a little further…

“Of course we would let you go. Assuming of course you’d be willing to talk to Commander of yours. She is remarkably stubborn.”

Gerda? What does she have to do with this?

Did they actually think he would help the witches convince Gerda to do…whatever it was they wanted?

“I’m listening.” He answered back, hoping he sounded convincing.

He heard her take another step. He peeked out again. Still no Abagail. Where had she slipped away too? He should probably be more worried about that. Aurelia was still to close to Hilda, and the one bird in her hair was…

Wait… one bird?

He realized it a moment too late, as he turned to see the second bird slipping away from him with a black rose clutched in its beak. He grabbed at it, but it was too quick, and took flight before he could grab it. The bird flew across the room, to another stack of books that Abagail stepped out from behind, an awful smile on her face. Harold felt his heart sink. He was trapped in between them. The books at his back still gave him a bit of cover from Aurelia, but that wouldn’t last, and he didn’t think he could fend of two witches at once, even with the magic guitar. He made a last ditch attempt to get to Hilda, jumping out from behind the books and rushing Aurelia. She was waiting for him, energy blast already sent his way. He managed to bat it away, but she had another ready for him.

He felt something grab his leg as he battered this one away, and he fell to ground. A vine had coiled itself around his leg. He frantically beat it with the guitar and managed to sever it, but he was hit with one of the blasts from Aurelia before he could get back on his feet. The guitar was knocked out of hands, skidding across the floor. The blast knocked him the opposite direction, sliding on the stone ground until he crashed into the imposing desk at the far edge of the circle. He tried to get back to his feet, but his whole body felt like it was made of lead. Those energy blasts were mean. It was over, he knew it was. His only form of protection was gone, and even if he had it, there was nothing he could do against two witches. He again tried to stand, but he was just so exhausted.

He managed to crawl behind a nearby stack of books, putting his back to it, facing the imposing desk. The dove once again motioned for him to unlock the cage, but Harold could barely sit up straight. Everything seemed so fuzzy in his mind, he had probably smacked his head pretty good. He peeked out to see the witches approaching, Abigail with an evil grin, Aurelia completely emotionless. The third witch joined them as they approached, giving Harold a scowl. She held the guitar in her hands, but Harold barely noticed, he was too busy scanning the area for Hilda. Blessedly, he didn’t see her anywhere. Maybe he had bought her enough time to escape. The three skirted far around his stack of books, wary of an attack. They quickly overcame their wariness when they saw the state he was in.

He met their gazes, trying to look as proud as he could. Abagail wore a confident smile, holding the flower daintily in one hand, almost taunting him. Aurelia stood in the center, once again with two birds. She simply looked bored. The third witch witch looked disappointed, as if she had been hoping for more of a fight. What now? Would they kill him? Lock him away in some dark dungeon? He found that he didn’t really care what happened to him. In fact, it was still hard to think in general, everything was fuzzy. But one thing did get through the fog. He hadn’t been completely useless after all, he had been brave when it mattered. He wasn’t that big of a coward after all. He had done the best he could, and he could be proud of that. A broad grin broke on his face. He had been brave!

“Is something funny, bell man?” Abagail asked, voice ripe with amusem*nt. “You’ve lost, if you haven’t noticed.”

Harold was still too dazed to reply, so he just shrugged.

“What should we do with him?” The third witch asked tersely.

“Feed him to void I suppose.” Aurelia said with a sniff.

“But what about his curse? The Frahn won’t accept someone so tainted.” Abagail said, sounding worried.

“You worry too much, it will be fine!” The third witch said, sounding irritated.

They continued bickering, but Harold found it difficult to pay attention. He was just so dizzy. Something was keeping him conscious though, something urgent. It took painfully a long time for him to recognize what it was. It was the strange feeling from before, building yet again. More powerful this time. Instinctively he held on, bottling it in. It didn’t retreat like it had before though, but he could hold it for the time being.

Why should I hold the bad luck back? Why not let these witches have some? The thought was surprisingly clear, as the fog over his mind seemed to be lifting slightly.

He almost let it go, but something held him back. There was no telling what it might do, it could potentially bring the room down on them, or more worrying, Hilda might still be close enough to get hit with some. So he held on. Where was Hilda anyway? Had she made it to the stairs? Was she still hiding around here somewhere? Hopefully she was smart enough to get away. Hopefully she wasn’t dumb enough to try and help him. Although if she really was as much like him as it seemed… He spotted a little tuft of blue hair poking out from around the desk. He groaned softly. She really was just like him. Her head popped out a moment later, locking eyes with him. They went wide, looking worried. Did he really look that bad? He glanced down and saw a mess of blood and shredded clothing. He hadn’t really noticed. She didn’t look much better. Her face was pale, large dark spots under her eyes, and a harrowed expression. He locked eyes with her again.

“Get out of here, I’ll be fine.” He mouthed, hoping the witches wouldn’t notice. Luckily they were caught up arguing with each other, and didn’t seem to see. Hilda shook her head, stubborn. He was about to mouth more, but at that instant Aurelia finally seemed to grow tired of the other two bickering, because she interrupted whatever Abagail had been saying.

“That’s enough you two! Just erase him memory and throw him out on the street!” She said, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked up, and pointed at the other witch.

“And you, come with me. We need to find that girl.”

Abagail gave a huff, but turned back to Harold, raising her flower. She started chanting in that strange language, and he felt fear rise within him. Erase his memory? That was just about the most horrible thing he could imagine. Without his memory, who would he be? True, most of his memories were unpleasant, and some he might rather forget. Both his own mistakes and the mistakes of others. But what of the countless days spent in the woods? The years spent with Johanna? His fathers laugh, his mothers smile? He had to do something, get away, anything to stop this. He tried to stand, but still couldn’t muster the strength. Aurelia and the other witch had started towards the desk, where Hilda was hiding. She would be discovered very soon. What could he do? He had no options left, so, in desperation, he let go.

The bad luck he had been holding back burst out of him. He braced himself for the roof to cave in, or a hidden bomb to go off, or an army of zombies to burst thought the door. But instead of anything like that, he watched as the third witch walking away from him tripped on nothing. She fell flat on her face, and as she went down, the guitar flew out of her hand towards the desk, hitting a stack of books, which crashed into the cage of the white dove, pushing onto the edge of the desk, half hanging off. Time seemed to slow as the cage teetered on the edge for an impossibly long moment. The cage fell in slow motion, crashing open on the floor. All was still for a second, then the white dove waltzed out of the cage, proud as peaco*ck. Harold heard a gasp of horror from Abagial. Looking back, he saw that she was staring down at the bird in absolute horror. Harold looked back at bird, had he missed something? When he looked back however, the white dove was gone. In it’s place, was a jet black raven, nearly double the size of the dove. Then - of course - the raven started laughing. Harold just blinked at it.

“Finally, I’m free!” The strange bird said. It stuck a single feather out towards the witches, like a pointed finger.

“You’re in big trouble now.” As soon as it said the words, a clap of thunder rang out, and the bird transformed in an eye blink. A massive winged creature stood before them, blacker then the darkest night. A thunderbird, and it was pissed.

Hilda huddled under the desk, listening intently as each footstep brought them closer and closer to her hiding place. They were going to find her, she couldn’t handle another round of attacks. Even now she felt faint, like a faint breeze could blow her right down. She should have listened to her father, she should have run. Suddenly, the footsteps cut off, replaced by a curse and the sound of someone hitting the floor. Something smacked into the desk above her, followed by the crash of metal on stone. Then, muffled laughter, and someone saying something she couldn’t quite make out. The voice sounded familiar though.

Where had she heard that before… Suddenly lighting crashed in the room, and the desk was blasted off of Hilda leaving her huddled on the floor. She looked up in shock, to see the great raven of Trollberg in his full fury standing before the witches, a dangerous gleam in his eye. The witches cried out, as stray lighting bolts struck stacks of books, setting them ablaze as the raven attacked without thought for his surroundings. One almost hit Hilda, and she sat there dumbly, staring at the scene. The witches started firing spells back, but the Raven barely noticed as they glanced off his midnight black feathers.

“Is that all you got?” He laughed manically, letting loose another round of lightning bolts. Gathering her wits, she dodged away from the angry thunder bird, ducking behind some books. She circled around, using nearly stacks as cover, until she got to where Harold still sat, watching the battle with wide eyes. She tried to get him to move but he seemed frozen, captivated by what he saw. She growled in frustration, then grabbed him around the waist, and hoisted him over her head. Even as exhausted as she was, Drekamaður strength was no joke.

“What on earth is going on?” Harold cried from above her, clearly bewildered. Hilda stumbled with him for a few yards, before setting him down away from the battle. She was still tired. In fact, she may have pushed herself a little far. She realized this dully as she found her self staring at the ceiling, having fallen over. Her fathers face looked down at her, and he seemed to be saying something, but Hilda couldn’t hear it. In fact, everything seemed to be going dark, fading. She had to stay conscious, she couldn’t let them see her. She used the strain from the illusion spell like an anchor, keeping her awake. Something crashed somewhere nearby, she rolled her head to see.

The witches cowered behind the remains of the desk, hiding behind the Raven’s fury. They apparently realized their defeat, because Abagail swished her rose following a hasty command from Aurelia, and the three vanished. The Raven quickly came up to them, and asked her something. She couldn’t make it out. Everything was just so faded. She blinked, and found herself on the back of the raven, her father holding tightly onto her. When had they gotten on? The doors to the room crashed open, revealing an army of witches, the council of three at their head. They had brought reinforcements it appeared.

How were they going to get out? Hilda realized she didn’t even care anymore, she was just so exhausted. She felt vaguely register them taking off into the air, heading straight for the ceiling. The raven shot a lighting bolt forward at the last minute, blasting through to the large cavern above. They ascended up the cylindrical hall in an eye blink, quickly approaching the roof of that room as well. Just like before, the Raven blasted open the ceiling, and she saw daylight. The exploded out of what used to the road in front of the Trollberg library. The raven beat his mighty wings and they quickly ascend into the sky. Hilda started fading again, and this time not even the illusion spell could save her. The void enveloped her mind, as she fell unconscious.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Woodman sat atop his rock, waiting patiently. As usual, he had no idea what exactly he was waiting for, or even how long he would have to wait. He simply knew this was the general area he would be needed. Eventually. He had already been here all day, and he suspected he would be here for a time longer. He absently flipped through his book, wishing he had brought his guitar to help keep him company, or even another book. He already gone cover to cover with this one a few times, and he could safely say it was dry stuff, which made sense, seeing as it was almost as old as he was. The cover was faded, with only a few letters still visible. He knew the title by heart however, just as he new the name of all his books. ‘Jéspiat’s guide to life as a Drekamaður’. It was one of his most prized possessions.

Not many copies had survived all these years, and this one only barely. Yellowing pages stuck out in mismatched stacks, the spine having given up decades ago. The cover was faded, and showed signs of water damage long since dried. He wasn’t sure why he had brought it, much like the waiting he just knew it was needed, which was as frustrating as it was vague. He tried not to let it bother him. After all, he had nothing but time these days, who cared if he spent a day, a week, or even a month sitting on this rock? Certainly not Woodman, that’s for sure. It did look like it might rain however. Dark clouds were rolling in, not completely covering the sky but still demanding attention, like an unruly house guest. The wind picked up, and he suspected that the wind would have been described as ‘chilling’, but as he couldn’t feel silly things like temperature anymore, he couldn’t say for certain. He didn’t even really remember temperature anymore. He could just faintly recall memories that temperature and certainly been part of.

A certain trip up a certain mountain came to mind instantly. He could remember thinking about how cold it was at the time, but the actual sensation itself? Gone, without a trace. Most of his memories of his life before were like that. Mostly complete, but lacking crucial context. He could remember disliking the feeling of being wet, but he couldn’t actually remember what wet felt like. He felt like he was missing out on something crucial, something everyone else took for granted, but at the same time he wasn’t sure he was missing anything at all. How could he know? He sighed, setting the book down once again. He stood up, wanting to stretch his legs. His rock sat next to an old oak, in one of the thicker parts of the forest a few miles from Trollberg.

Sunlight filtered down through gaps in the canopy of foliage above him. His tock sat on a small rise, at his back was one of the largest trees in the forest. It wasn't terribly tall, but the trunk was somewhere around 100 paces around. Smaller trees lined the small area, but none dared to get too close to their ancient relative. Few things stirred in the nearby forest, just how he liked it. In a word, the area was peaceful. There were certainly worse places to wait. He walked around the area, looking for anything that might pique is interest. He studied a few colorful insects for a time, listened to the birds, and counted all the trees he could see. After he was done with that he walked back to the rock, and started the book again. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t anymore interesting this time through. To help pass the time, he started a mental list of everything he rather do then sit on this rock reading this book.

He had just finished entry #367 on the list (inviting a forest giant into his home for a cup of tea), when a sound broke his concentration. He had trouble identifying it. It came from somewhere above, and was definitely getting closer. It almost sounded like someoneshouting, but that seemed unlikely, seeing as there was nothing above him but trees and open sky. Contrary to that thought, a dark mass crashed through the branches above, slamming into the forest ground in front of him with a loud thud. Low groans came from the black mass, so whatever it was, it was still alive. Woodman sat perfectly still, not wanting to draw attention to himself. This was defiantly strange, but he didn’t know for sure this was what he had been waiting for. Better to just wait and see how it played out. A gruff voice came from the back of large black lump.

“What the hell happened? Crazy bird…” The voice came from a figure, that stood, stumbling away from the black mound. It was a man, wind tossed hair, and blood soaked shirt. His sleeves were little more then bloody rags, looking like he had stuck his arms through a paper shredder. Woodman swore he recognized the man from somewhere, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He was carryinga strange bundle with him, cradling it like it was made of glass. Woodman couldn’t tell what it was, the remnants of a yellow raincoat covering it completely. The large dark form, rolled over, and Woodman realized it was a Thunderbird of all things. Not just any Thunderbird, but the one known as the Great Raven. He shakily stood on his small legs, clearly exhausted. He was a sight for sore eyes, he appeared to be quite ruffled from the fall out of the sky, but beyond that, he had several spots along his chest and wings that appeared to be singed.It appeared he had fought in some sort of battle. How curious. In a flash the large domineering form disappeared, replaced with that of a slightly larger then average Raven. It looked back at the man indignantly

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to fly with two people on your back after fighting three witches? We’re lucky we made it out of the city!”

The Raven said, clearly annoyed. The mans anger died, and he seemed to reconsider.

“I guess I should thank you, for getting us out of there I mean.”

The raven sighed. “Honestly I was more concerned about getting myself out of there, you two were just a happy coincidence.”

The man paused, considering the bird.

“Why were you locked in the cage anyway? And why did you look like a dove?”

“I have no idea!" The Raven said, throwing his 'hands' in the air.

"I had just arrived in town, a few days before the festival - just to get a feel for the city, you know? Then all of a sudden I get jumped by that witch with the black dress, and shoved in some sort of magical cage and had an illusion put over me!” The raven shook his head bewildered.

“I overheard them say something about how it would ‘make her more susceptible to their guidance’. Whatever that means.”

The man just nodded thoughtful. He started to inspect his surroundings - completely looking past Woodman, which he chose not to be insulted by. He was hiding after all. Although Woodman was friends with the Raven - or if not friends, they knew each other well enough that Woodman should probably say something. But Woodman wasn't known for doing what he was supposed to, so he continued sitting in silence. After apparently finding the area acceptable, the man cleared away some brush, and laid the bundle down, taking extreme care to be as gentle as possible. The Raven walked up, a concerted look on his face.

“What happened? Is she ok?”

The man leaned down, removing the jacket, revealing that the ‘bundle’ was in fact a person. That person had a tail and horns, but a person nonetheless. In fact he recognized the person as his good friend. Or well, recognized wasn’t the right word. Woodman doubted her own mother would have recognized her like this. But he recognized the connection he had with her. So this was probably the reason he was waiting here after all. Woodman silently stepped down from his rock, approaching them, his interest suddenly piqued. Their backs were turned and he made no sound as he approached. The Raven shied back at the unveiling, his expression a mix of concern and disgust.

“What happened to her?”

The man shook his head, concerned.

“I don’t know. Right after we got in the air, she fell unconscious, and then she… changed. Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure this is why the witches were attacking her.”

“That's probably true.” Woodman said, now standing right behind them.

They spun around, the man stepping in front of Hilda protectively. His expression softened at the sight of Woodman, growing into a familiar smile.

“Woodman? What on earth are you doing here?” He gave a laugh and even went so far as to get on one knee and embrace him. Woodman endured the treatment, still trying to remember who this guy was. The raven also perked up seeing him.

“Woodman! Boy am I glad to see you.”

“Yes, everyone just so loves it when I’m around.” Woodman said, dryly.

He turned his attention the small girl laying in front of them. Not so small anymore, as it turned out. Hilda was noticeably taller now, though she retained her slight frame, and wiry limbs. Her arms now bore a good amount of scales, in intriguing patterns. He would them beautiful, but he suspected most would simply find them off putting. Hints of her old features were present, but the dragon and clearly prepared the Drekamaður spell in a hurry. Sloppy work, one might say. Aside from her features, she looked harrowed. Calling her pale didn’t quite get the image across, her skin was almost ashen. Her hair and scales also seemed muted somehow, a few shades darker then it should be. She had deep dark spots under her eyes, even with them closed. Each breath seemed ragged as it came out, like a man after sprinting a marathon. The Raven walked over, standing over Hilda, opposite from them.

“She’s in bad shape.” Woodman commented, The man nodding numbly in agreement.

“What happened?” Woodman asked, glancing over at the man. The man knelt down, staring at the girl blankly.

“She was trying to help me, she took me to the witches tower and they…” He trailed off, his expression pained.

“The witches attacked her.” The Raven said, his voice quiet. “They wouldn’t stop; she begged them too.”

The mans expression went hard, anger flaring in his eyes. He clenched his hands into fists, his knuckles going white.

“If I ever see them again…” His tone was dark, filled with spite. Woodman looked to the man, confused. Why was he so concerned for this girl?

“She’ll be alright, she just needs a few days to recover. Unless I miss my guess, she probably nearly burnt herself out.” He held up the book absently. “I recently did a little reading on the subject.” The man looked at the book, co*cking his head. His face went pale when he made out the word Drekamaður. He looked back to the girl, his expression almost fearful.

“Is that why she… looks like this?" His head turned northward. "Is that what happened to her on that mou-?” He choked up suddenly, his words devolving into coughing.

He knows aboutthe mountain, who is this guy?

“Yes.” Woodman simply said.

The man stood stepping back from the girl, eyes wide. The Raven let out a yelp, jumping back.

“You mean she’s one of those - those things!? A monster with no soul?”

The Raven shouted, voice going up an entire octave. They both shied away, taking a half step back, almost in unison. The mans body language made it clear that he wanted to run away, leave the girl and never look back. But at the same time, his eyes lingered, something keeping his feet in place. Woodman studied the man, still trying to determine who the man was, and why had come in with her. Something still itched at the back of his mind, in a most frustrating way. The man knelt back down, and slowly reached his hand forward, as if afraid Hilda would suddenly awake and bite it off. His hand dug around in the pocket of the jacket Hilda still lay on, coming out with a dusty, cracked picture frame. Woodman looked at it over his shoulder, and felt like smacking himself in the face. It was Harold. But hadn’t he died a while ago?

Evidently not

The Raven inched back over as well, giving the motionless girl a wide berth. He seemed fearful of Hilda, but more fearful of being left alone. They looked on in silence, letting the time stretch. The Raven fidgeted, pacing back and forth behind them. Harold studied the picture, occasionally looking up at Hilda. Woodman stood motionless, curious to see what Harold would do. He knew the stories, he knew how Drekamaður were regarded. By those lines of thinking Harold would be a fool to stay. And yet, he stayed. He put the picture back into his pocket with a soft sigh, then gently picked Hilda back up, holding her close. He looked down to Woodman, sheepishly.

“I don’t suppose we could stay with you for a little while? I don’t think we’re welcome back in Trollberg.”

Woodman sighed. “I was afraid you might ask something like that.” He turned, and started walking towards his home, motioning for them to follow. Luckily, they weren’t far. In fact, they were practically in Woodman’s back yard.They circled the large oak, until they came to his front door.

Such a silly place to wait

He opened the door for Harold, who had to stoop far down to make it through. The raven waddled in behind them, still looking up at Hilda nervously. Woodman led Harold to the guest room. It was filled with some of his less used possesions, some of which had to be shoved off the bed to make room for Harold to lay Hilda down on.

“In my defense, I wasn’t expecting visitors.” Woodman said, though Harold didn’t appear to be listening. He was moving a stack of books of a chair. He then moved the chair over to the side of the bed where he sat, hands interlocked in front of him. Woodman excused himself, closing the door behind him. He made put a pot on to boil, and returned the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups in hand. He gave one to Harold, and stood next to him, both regarding the beds occupant in silence.

“Are the stories true?” Harold eventually asked. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid of the answer.

“All stories are true.” Woodman said immediately “Some of them just… aren’t as real as others.”

Harold nodded, somehow satisfied with the non-answer. They finished the tea in silence, Harold seemingly lost in thought. Woodman headed to leave, but hesitated. He walked back across the room, and set the book he still carried down on the bedside table, on the opposite side of the bed from the chair. He had a feeling she would find it more interesting then he had.

Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Chapter Text

During my numerous travels I made countless incredible discovers, both around - and I dare say, about the world, not to mention the inhabitants therein. New places, ripe with exotic sights and delicious foods. New people, some friendly, and some who were - shall we say - less then hospitable. Stories, both old and new, some true, and others nothing more then fantastical fabrications. But among all these things, I discovered an almost universal truth. People are afraid of the unknown. They treat things they do not understand with suspicion, even hostility. They treat the strange as dangerous, and they cast out those who act differently. One who is new to Drekamaður life absolutely must understand this, because there is nothing more strange, unknown, and different than a Drekamaður. You will face many trials, and doubtlessly much hostility. In this text I wish to give preparation for the new, and give insight on my own experiences, in the hope it will help the next generation of Drekamaður live a better life. While this is a cautionary tale, I must put emphasis on the importance of hope. While the history of the Drekamaður people is filled with stories of ignorance and fear, I look to the future. All things strange eventually become ordinary, differences become accepted, and the unknown becomes known. One day we will not have to hide, one day we will be accepted for the humanity we retain. But until that day arrives, here is everything you need to know about surviving your new life as a Drekamaður.

-Introduction to, ‘Jéspiat’s guide to life as a Drekamaður’

A sound. Something had made a sound. Something far off, but important. She was sure it was an important sound. Could a sound be important? She didn’t know, and at the moment, she didn’t really care. Her mind started drifting again, not quite breaking through the barrier of full consciousness. It was nice, peaceful. No worries, no problems, just blissful sleep. Why was she asleep? She had fallen unconscious because… because she had pushed herself to far, trying to fight off the witches.

The witches!

That thought rocketed her through the barrier. She sat up, breathing hard. She was in an unfamiliar room, with sunlight filtering through the window behind her. Had she been captured, thrown in some dungeon by the witches? But no, she was sitting on a cushy bed, and the window behind her was open, letting in the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the wind.

She stood, legs a little shaky, and walked to the window. She appeared to be on the second story of whatever building she was in, looking out at the forest. Judging by the sun, and the dew still covering the shaded grass below her, it was still early morning. She vaguely remembered flying away on the Raven, so they must have escaped. But where too? She looked back to the room, noting for the first time the odd assortment of decorations. Shelves lined the walls, holding everything from books too expensive looking dishes, stacked in haphazard piles.

Underneath the shelves, sat labeled boxes, of every size and shape. Some of the labels were in English, describing ordinary contents. One said ‘movies’, and another said ‘decretive rocks’, but some were in other languages she couldn’t read. Scattered around the room were plush animals of all sizes. Some bigger then her. Taking up the majority of the room was a long wood table, complete with chairs and cloth. Dishes were even set out, with unlit candelabras spaced out along the length.

Hilda raised her eyebrow at that. She looked back to the bed, noting the empty chair next to it, and the small bedside table on the opposite side. A book sat on that table, and unlike everything else in the room, it didn’t have a thick layer of dust covering it. She walked over, curious. The cover was faded, most of the once fine gold lettering having faded. She carefully picked it up, half expecting it to puff into dust at her touch. The book held up, so she opened the cover to read ‘Jéspiat’s guide to life as a Drekamaður’.

She searched the first few pages for a publication date but couldn’t find anything, but if this was the same Jéspiat that had discovered the troll mountains, then it would be at least 400 years old. She turned another page, reading the introduction to the book. After she finished she flipped through some of the pages, mostly reading descriptions. She found herself grinning. A guide was exactly what she needed, seeing as Kona had been about as helpful as an expired carton of milk during a troll attack. She wanted to jump back in the bed and start reading immediately, but she decided she should probably find out where she was first.

She tucked the book under her arm and walked towards the door, doing her best to avoid the clutter that littered the floor. She eventually reached it, and tried the knob, finding it unlocked. She eased the door open, peaking out on an empty staircase that spiraled down out of sight. The stairway was dim, but still light enough to see her way down. She cautiously crept down, careful not to make any noise. It was probably silly, but better safe then sorry. She reached the landing, and looked out into a cozy looking carpeted room. She sighed in relief as soon as she recognized it. This was Woodman’s house, somewhere in the forest nearby her old home.

How she had gotten here she couldn’t imagine, but at least she was safe. She wandered out into the living room, looking around for her friend. Soft music came from the record player by the unlit fireplace. Sunlight shone through several windows the lined far the wall. In front of the fire place sat a small coffee table, backed by a couch with chairs on either side. The room curved around the large tree trunk in the center, and she knew that if she followed the curve she would arrive in the kitchen.

The living room was empty, so she did just that, walking through the room, passing the front door, and arriving in the kitchen. Empty as well. She folded her arms. Where was everyone? Her father had been with her hadn’t he? The raven too. But she couldn’t hear anyone, even with her enhanced hearing. She walked to a nearby window, looking out at the clearing, but didn’t see any sign of them outside either. She turned to go, but a flash of movement caught her eye. It was her, vaguely reflecting in the thick glass. Her, with horns atop a mess of bright blue hair. Looking down at her hands - covered in scales - confirmed her fear. No illusion. She suddenly felt relieved to be alone.

The illusion would have gone away as soon as I fell unconscious, so they must have seen…

So what, they had all run away? After leaving her in a comfortable bed at Woodman’s house? That didn’t really make sense either. But what other explanation was there?

“Oh good you’re awake. Just in time for breakfast.”

The voice, speaking unexpectedly from behind caused Hilda to let out an emabarrasing yelp, and she (quite literally) jumped. The low ceiling and her enhanced physical abilities caused her to smack her head against the roof. Her new horns hit instead of her skull, but the sensation was unpleasant, like someone poking her really hard in the head. She fell back to the ground, and sat back on the ground, massaging the area around the base of her left horn. She looked up to see Woodman standing next to her. She stood, moving slowly, like he was a duck that she didn’t want to frighten away with quick movements. He looked much the same as he had the last time she had seen him, just a few days ago, though in many ways it felt like much longer. She could see more detail in his woody exterior, but no change in coloring. She stared at the spirit, unsure what to say. He didn’t seem to be disgusted by the very sight of her as Kona had warned, but then again he was a spirit. They probably wouldn’t react like humans would. But still, it almost felt… anticlimactic. Kona had made such a fuss about, not to mention the look in Aurelia’s eyes. Surely he should have sort of reaction, but he just stood there staring at her. She felt like she should say something; make some acknowledgment, but what would she say? ’Thanks for not freaking out at the very sight of me', felt a bit too on the nose.

She just stared back, shifting from foot to foot nervously. Eventually Woodman broke the silence.

“So… no breakfast then?”

“Oh, uh…” Hilda had forgotten about it entirely. “Breakfast would be lovely.”

Woodman just shrugged, turning and heading towards the kitchen. Hilda followed at a slower pace, still not sure how she felt about the situation. They arrived in the kitchen, Woodman walking towards the stove, and Hilda walking to the table. She sat the book she still carried on the table, and went to to sit, but her tail smacked into it, knocking the chair sideways. Not for the first time Hilda cursed the unwieldy thing. How would she ever get used to something like that? She replaced the chair, getting ready for another attempt when she suddenly felt silly. Why worry about the tail when she could just make an illusion to cover it up? She readied herself, then opened a tare, ready to fill up with magical energy. No portal, no energy, only an overwhelming wave of nausea, and a harsh ringing filled her ears. Her vision became blurry, and she vaguely felt herself falling over, hitting the ground on her side. It seemed to last for hours, but was probably only a few seconds.

What happened?

The thought came slowly, as the nausea started fading. They were accompanied by a pounding headache, that struck a painful chorus in her mind. She blinked up at Woodman, who was standing over, looking down, his head co*cked.

“I’m going to guess that you didn’t read the book.”

Hilda put a hand to head, trying in vain to calm the headache.

“I, uh, skimmed it.” She groaned up at him.

Woodman just sighed, holding out a hand to help her up. She took it hesitantly, still half worried he would suddenly scream at her touch. Of course, nothing happened when she gripped on. In a moment she was standing again, on shaky legs. He helped her to the seat, which she promptly collapsed into. What had that all been about? Hesitantly, she tried opening a much smaller portal, just a speck really. The nausea was again immediate, much more manageable this time however, and she only felt vaguely light headed. What was happening? Why couldn’t she use magical energy?

“Most people would stop after the first time.” Woodman said, setting a cup of some brown liquid, that smelled like coffee. “You’re either stupidly stubborn, or profoundly persistent. I’ll let you decide which is worse.”

She narrowed her eyes at the spirit. What did he know about all this? He seemed to be able to sense when she attempted opening a tare, and he hadn’t been surprised at her falling over. There was no point being coy, what with her standing around in all of her draconic glory.

“Why didn’t it work?” She asked, as he walked back to the stove.

“Well, I’m no expert, but I did happen to do some light reading on the subject recently. It sounds to me like you nearly burnt yourself out.” He cracked some eggs into a pan and starting stirring absently.

“I don’t know much about it, all I know is that you should lay off the magic for a little while. The book can tell you more.” He said, pointedly.

Hilda looked back to the book, forgotten on the table next to her. She picked it up, and flipped through the index until she found ‘magical burn out’. She could only assume that’s what Woodman was referring to. She flipped the appropriate chapter and read through it.

Magical energy puts tremendous strain on the body, even the body of a Drekamaður that can conduct it. Magical burn out is what happens when too great an amount of magic is taken in to the body, quite literally burning the body, tearing it apart from the inside. Do not fear, however. In small doses, magical energy is completely harmless, and will even give the user an increase in stamina and metabolism. But if held for too long, or if too much is held, it can deal irreparable damage.

She set the book down, suddenly feeling a chill. It listed symptoms further down, most of which she had experienced. The book said she would recover, but it would take time. Time without any magic. She felt relieved, no worrying about the illusion, no draining feeling. She let out a small sigh, slightly smiling to her self. No worry that witches would notice. No warmth as the energy filled her, no feeling of boundless energy. Her smile turned to a frown, maybe she missed the magic after all. Just a little bit. But regardless, she couldn’t use it for the time being. That was alright, seeing as it was just her and Woodman. A nagging thought tried to grab her attention. Where was her father and the Raven? She ignored it, not wanting to think about it. Instead she turned her attention to the steaming plate of food Woodman set in front of her. Scrambled eggs, toast, some dark liquid that smelled vaguely like coffee, fried mushrooms - of a verity Hilda had never seen before - and bacon. She was starving, and the smell made her mouth water. She pushed the bacon aside, and dug into the eggs. They were a bit on the raw side, a little less then solid. She didn’t care, at the moment it seemed a feast fit for a king. Woodman returned a moment later, his own plate in hand. He sat across from her, and pulled out a newspaper, disappearing behind the large print. Two plates, apparently no one else would be joining them. Hilda finally forced herself to think about what she had been trying to avoid. No Harold. Not in the room upstairs, not in the living room, and not at breakfast. She didn’t want to admit it, but there was no getting around it. He wasn’t here.

“So…” She said, trying to sound casual. “Just us?”

“Do you see anyone else?” Woodman asked from around the newspaper.

“Well, no, but wasn’t there someone else here with me?” She winced at the poor wording. Woodman peeked over the paper, giving her a flat look. Or, all his looks were flat, but this one was flater. Hilda looked to the side. Why was she so scared about asking about her father? Was she really that scared of the answer?

“My dad!” She almost shouted, trying to drown out her questioning mind. She looked back at Woodman, clearing her throat, and continued in a normal tone, blushing slightly.

“Where is my dad?”

“He left a few hours ago.” Woodman said, returning to his newspaper.

Just like that, he was gone. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised, he never said he would stay. He just said he give it a try, so now that he still had a curse, and his daughter was revealed as a monster why would he stay? Still though, they had been growing close near the end. Would he really just give up like that?

This is exactly what Kona warned you about.

She stared down at the plate, all appetite suddenly gone. She shouldn’t have been surprised, she shouldn’t be upset. It was probably better this way, now she wouldn’t have to find someway to show Johanna that her husband was still alive after all these years. What did she care if he was gone? She had known him for less then a day. Much like the magic though, it felt like she had known him for much longer. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the front door. She froze. Woodman made no reaction, most likely unable to hear them. Who could it be? The footsteps drew nearer and the door knob started rattling. She jumped out of the chair, staring at the door. Should she hide? Should she run? There was no time, the door was already opening. She braced herself, until the door opened revealing Harold, her father, stepping in. Their eyes met, and his face broke into a wide grin.

“You’re awake!”

He closed the door behind him and stood, hands in the pockets of his large yellow rain jacket. They stared at each other in an uncomfortable silence, Harold shifting his feet uncomfortable. Eventually he cleared his throat

“So, uh… Are you feeling any be-” His words cut off into a grunt has Hilda dashed over and embraced him, squeezing harder then was proper.

“Missed you too.” He wheezed out, trying to free his arms that she had accidentally pinned to his sides in the unexpected show of emotion. She quickly released him, suddenly feeling awkward. She turned, blushing deeply. Harold cleared his throat again, clearly bewildered by her behavior.

“Are you, uh, well… I mean, are you alright?”

“Yes I’m great thanks!” She said quickly, not turning around.

“Uh… ok. If you’re sure.” He walked past her towards the table, but hesitated before sitting down. He turned back, and walked back a few feet standing in front of her. He rubbed the back of his neck, and let out a sigh.

“Look, Hilda… I’m not, well, I mean- argh.” He stopped a took a deep breath, trying again.

“I know things are weird with you and all that…” His eyes lingered on her tail, trailing behind her.

“…Stuff.” He eventually said, finally pulling his eyes away.

“But I don’t care about that. I know I’m not exactly a good father, but I’m going to try. But please, I can’t do anything if you don’t talk to me.”

Hilda looked to side, feeling sheepish. “Woodman just said you left is all, and I thought he meant that you were gone.” She forced out a laugh.

“I’m a little impulsive, sorry.”

Harold’s face fell, almost seeming to pull into itself. He let out a sigh, but then squatted down, at eye level with her.

“I can’t blame you for thinking that, you have every right too.” He said it somberly, looking to the side. He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, then looked back at her.

“I promise you, that I’ll never leave again. No matter what.” He said it with the gravity a statement like that deserved, and Hilda was momentarily stunned. What did you say to something as genuine as that? A simple ‘thanks’ didn’t seem like it would do it justice. She just grinned up at him, which quickly broke into wide smile. She couldn’t help it, she felt like a massive weight had been taken off of her. He smiled too, then stood again, walking towards the table. Hilda trialed behind, laughing at his energetic movement.

“Something smells good, Woodman at it again?” Harold said cheerily, clapping woodman on the shoulder as he passed, walking towards the stove where he scooped out the remains of the food and put it on a plate. Hilda took her seat again, feeling hungry again and started digging in. A moment later Harold sat back down. Hilda had already finished her eggs, and skewered a mushroom raising it.

“I wouldn’t eat that.” Harold said, around a mouthful of bacon.

Hilda eyed him, but let him swallow and elaborate before questioning him.

“Those are spirit shrooms. Super poisonous.”

Hilda eyed the mushroom suspiciously, and then watched as Woodman ‘ate’ a forkful of the mushrooms.

“They don’t affect me like they will you.” He said, nonchalantly.

“You were just going to let me eat one?” She asked Woodman, incredulous. He was silent for a long moment, but eventually looked at her.

“I forgot.” He said, as if he hadn’t almost killed her with his negligence.

She just shook her head and set the fork down, disappointed. She was still ravenous, and the eggs and toast had done little to satiate her massive appetite.

“Still hungry?” Woodman asked, motioning to his untouched eggs. Hilda nodded.

“I’ll trade you for the mushrooms.” Hilda found that agreeable, so swapped plates with the spirit and dug in again. She quickly finished those too, and looked around for anything else. Harold noticed and chuckled.

“Here, you can have my toast.” He handed it over and she accepted it gratefully. She quickly slathered some of Woodman’s jam (after checking to make sure it was palatable to living), and took a massive bite.

“So where’s the Raven then?” She asked, suddenly realizing no-one had mentioned him.

“He stuck around for a little while, but he said he had places to be and left yesterday evening. He told me to tell you ‘thanks’.” Harold shrugged.

Hilda nodded, more then a little disappointed. But at least he was alright, that had been the point of all this after all. She popped the last bit of toast in her mouth. She looked around for anything else to eat, still impossibly hungry. It felt like she hadn’t eaten for days.

Harold chuckled, watching her scan the room for anything edible.

“I guess that’s what happens when you sleep for three days!”

“Three days?” Hilda exclaimed, choking on the last bit of toast in her mouth. She coughed, and swallowed, then continued.

“I’ve been asleep for three days?”

Harold looked to the side then back to her, fork halfway to his mouth.

“Uh… yes, that’s what I said.” He stuck the forkful of bacon into his mouth and started chewing contentedly. Hilda sat back in her seat, shocked. Three days? Her mom must be completely freaking out. She had thought that Twig’s appearance would put Johanna at ease, but she hadn’t thought that she would be gone for this long. What would her friends think? Would they even notice? A bitter thought, that she really didn’t have time to bother with.

Harold cleared his throat, and set down his fork, evidently noticing her distress.

“I’m sure it will be ok.”

He said it with what he probably thought was a comforting smile, but it came off to Hilda as condescending. He reached for the mug in front of him, letting the smile fall at Hilda’s blank stare.

“How will it be ok? I’ve been gone for basically a whole week now! How am I going to explain that to mom?”

At the mention of her mother - and his wife - Harold started choking on his coffee, coughing repeatedly into his arm. Hilda rolled her eyes.

“Oh I’d almost forgotten about all that. How am I supposed to explain you, on top of everything else?”

She wanted to say more but a thought struck her. She eyed her father, who had finished coughing and was wheezing into a napkin, wiping the coffee out of his shaggy beard.

“…you are coming back with me, aren’t you?” She asked it cautiously, like a man feeding ducks by a lake, taking care not to frighten them. He had promised not to leave, but that didn’t mean he would follow.

Harold finished cleaning his face, and balled up the napkin letting it fall to the side of his plate. He looked her in the eye and gave a long sigh.

“I will, if that’s what you want to do. But, well…” He hesitated, unsure of how to say what he wanted. After a moment he said.

“Are you sure you even can go back? I mean, given all…” He gestured vaguely at her tail and horns.

“I’m sure those witches will be looking for you, and they might have told the entire city.”

Hilda sat back, the reality of what had happened finally sinking it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad though, after all, the witches didn’t have proof that she was a Drekamaður… but then again maybe they didn’t need proof. They had always operated outside of the law, or so it seemed. Her father seemed to accept her like this, but Kona had warned her again and again that most others wouldn’t be. But she couldn’t just leave could she? Where would she go? There were other - much smaller - towns in the nearby area, and further away there were bigger cities then Trollberg.

There’s no need to start thinking like you’ve already decided to leave, you don’t know what’s going on in the city.

She thought, calming down. She couldn’t be rash, she had to think this through.

“Well,” she said, “we obviously need to sneak back into Trollberg to find out what exactly is going on.”

“And how would we do that?” Harold asked. He didn’t ask it in a way to challenge her, he was simply curious.

“They probably aren’t looking for you, so you can just walk in the main gate, then open one of the smaller side entrances for me. From there we can go to the safety patrol HQ, where we should be able to find out if the witches have been making a ruckus about me. If they have, then we just sneak out and find someplace new, but if they haven’t, then I just make an illusion and continue as normal for the most part.

Harold considered for a moment. “That’s a pretty good plan.”

Hilda beamed back at him. It was a simple compliment, but she felt a swell of pride at it regardless.

“But, I do have to make a small change. You aren’t going” Harold said it matter-of fact way, as if it was already decided. Hilda started to object, but he held his hand out to stop her.

“Look, you’re the one they want. They don’t care about me, and it will be much easier for me to sneak in by myself, seeing as you aren’t exactly inconspicuous right now. Plus, according to Woodman, you can’t do… whatever it was you did to look normal for a little while, while you recover.”

His use of the word normal only stung a little. Beyond that, he was right. It did make complete sense for him to go alone, but she felt stubborn.

“Then we can wait a few days, and then check.” She said, a bit more desperately then she would like. Harold shook his head.

“You’ve already been gone to long, if you can go back you need too as soon as possible.”

“I just…” Hilda trailed off. She didn’t have any reasonable objection to stop him, she didn’t even have an unreasonable objection. She just didn’t want him to leave. There it was, she admitted it. Harold seemed to sense her unease, standing from the table, leaving his plate of food mostly finished. He walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

“It will be fine. I’ll just take a quick peek around, then come right back. I promise.” He said it with a smile, and Hilda couldn’t help but smile back at him, despite her reservations.

“Ok.” She said, nodding slightly. Harold nodded back, then walked back to his seat and resumed his breakfast. Woodman - who had walked back to the kitchen during the discussion - handed her an apple, and she ate it absently. Harold quickly finished, and he started packing a small bundle of food for his trip. After he was done with that, he stopped only long enough to say goodbye, and give Hilda another quick hug, and then he was gone, marching out of the door and into the forest in the direction of Trollberg. Hilda watched him go from the still open doorway, until he was obscured by the forests foliage. She continued to watch the direction he had gone, until Woodman stepped up next her.

“He’ll be back soon enough.”

Hilda just shrugged, not turning to look at him. Woodman let out a long sigh, but remained by her side. The duo watched the forest and the morning waned, and as the world continued without them.

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Although the use of magic energy should be readily used and practiced, a novice should be warned of the consequences of gluttonous magic use. Magical burnout is a very real danger, especially to those who have little practice in the use of magical energy. While the amount of energy a Drekamaður can safely use will never increase, it can be used more efficiently with practice. In the early stages, magic is used very poorly, which can lead to over use of magical energy. Therefore, I advise that novices should use magic only while in the company of an experienced mentor, to avoid any risk. Magical energy puts tremendous strain on the body, even the body of a Drekamaður that can conduct it. Magical burn out is what occurs when too great an amount of magic is taken in to the body, quite literally burning the body, tearing it apart from the inside. Do not fear, however. In small doses, magical energy is completely harmless, and will even give the user an increase in stamina and metabolism. But if held for too long, or if too much is held, it can deal irreparable damage. If you suspect you may be experiencing magical burn out, cease magic use immediately. Signs that you are using too much include: Fatigue, loss of focus, paleness of the features. If these lesser symptoms are are experienced, it is common to loose access to the magical realm while your body recovers. This period of time can last anywhere from a few hours to several weeks. More extreme symptoms: Nausea, lose of motor functions, loss of conciseness, internal hemorrhaging, and even death.

-From ‘Jéspiat’s guide to life as a Drekamaður’, page 12 paragraph 6

“David!” A muffled voice shouted at him from somewhere in the house.

David’s eyes popped open, and he let out a soft groan. He lay in bed, sunlight filtering through his closed window blinds. He blinked bleary eyes, trying to shake off the sleep that still clung to him. He glanced at the clock on his desk. Nearly 11 AM already. He pinched his eyes shut, letting out another groan.

“I have got to go to sleep earlier…” He muttered to himself. He had stayed up late practicing lines again, and again. Now he was suffering the consequences in the morning. At least he didn’t have school today. It was Sunday, a few days after the unexplained re-appearance of the great Raven. There had been an impromptu celebration over the weekend - or more accurately, there had been a weekend over the celebration. People had been out well past midnight, eating food, dancing, playing music, and generally being loud. It seemed like the people of Trollberg had wanted to banish any lingering negative thoughts from the Raven's absence at the actual festival.

“David!” The voice called again, closer. He recognized it as his mother, so he stumbled out of bed, shambling to his door.

“What mom?” He called, opening the door. She was halfway up the stairs, head just peeking over the floor, but paused when he opened the door.

“Oh well good morning to you! Really son, you need to stop staying up so late.”

David just blinked, too tired to think of anything to say. His mom just rolled her eyes.

“One of your friends is here, you better go say hello.”

David perked up. One of his friends? Frida never walked over here anymore, she would just call, so that meant it was Hilda! Which also meant she was back from wherever she had gone. He hadn’t seen her since the parade. He had stopped by her house the following day, hoping to ask her if she knew anything about where the Raven was, but she hadn’t been there. All Johanna had told him was that she was out on some adventure, and would be home soon. Hopefully that soon was now. He hurriedly shut the door, changing out of his pajamas. He ran out of his room, still tugging his pants up, almost tripping down the stairs. He managed to catch himself on the railing, and finished putting his leg through. He ran down the stairs, fast as he could until he reached the door.

He threw it open, a greeting already on his lips. It died on his tongue when he saw who was standing in front of him. Not Hilda at all, but Trevor! He was slouching, leaned on the metal guard rails on David’s porch, arms folded. He looked over as the door opened, his posture bored. What on earth was he doing here? David’s expression fell, and was met by a very familial sneer that hadn’t changed like the rest of the man in front of him. Trevor had grown over the past two years - David had too, of course - but now Trevor towered over David by a good three inches. His once gangly limbs where now muscle bound and sturdy. He still wore the same ridicules knit pull-string cap he had always worn, and tufts of black hair poked out from underneath.

“What do you want?” David asked, voice laced with hostility. He stepped out onto the porch, shutting the door behind him. Trevor sniffed at his tone, standing up straight.

“Where’s the blue-haired freak?” He asked, his voice annoyed, like it was some great chore for him to even talk to David.

David felt heat rise within him. ‘Blue-haired freak’ was the term Trevor and his goons used to refer to Hilda. It didn’t seem to bother Hilda much whenever she heard it, but it always upset David.

“I don’t know where Hilda is.” David said, putting heavy emphasis on his friends name.

“And even if I did, why would I tell you?”

Trevor’s sneer turned to a scowl, and he took a step forward. David met his gaze, staring up at him and didn’t back down. Trevor had always been the quintessential school yard bully, and had only gotten worse with age, but David wasn’t scared of him, which was saying something because David was scared of just about everything. Trevor almost seemed amused that David held his ground instead of backing away, which was probably a bad sign. They were now close enough that David had to tilt his head up to match Trevors gaze. Trevor stuck a finger out and poked him hard in the chest.

“Every time she disappears on one of her little ‘adventures’, bad things happen around here.” He retracted his finger and folded his arms.

“So I’ll ask again. Where is she?”

David just raised an eyebrow at the gross exaggeration. It wasn’t every time Hilda disappeared. Although there was the time with the trolls, and the time with the kraken. But still, it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like Hilda did it on purpose or anything. Or, well, she had good intentions at least.

“And I’ll tell you again. I don’t know! I haven’t seen her in days!”

Trevor just narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

David opened his mouth to give a retort, but stopped himself. This was going nowhere, he had other things he could be doing. So he forced himself to just shrug. He turned, heading back inside. Trevor caught his arm, holding on tight. David turned back to face him again.

“Oh for crying out loud. I don’t know where Hilda is, and I don’t care if you believe me! What are you gonna do, beat me up on my own flippin’ porch?”

Trevor looked to the side, frowning slightly. David sighed.

Right. That’s probably exactly what he was planning.

“Just go away.” David said, exasperated. “I’m sure she’ll be at school tomorrow, you can bother her then.”

Trevor scoffed, but turned and started walking down the steps. Before he could stop himself, David continued.

“Why don’t you ask your mom where she went?”

Trevor froze, and turned slowly. His gaze had turned for scornful to hateful, and his hands clenched into fists. David did take a step back this time, realizing a bit too late that he may have gone to far. According to some people at school, Trevor had been kicked out by his mother several weeks ago, and had been living at his Grandparents. Apparently it was a sore spot for him. Trevor took a swing, and David brought his arms up to shield his face, bracing for impact.

The fist never landed however, and David looked up to see Trevors fist frozen mid swing, a strong orange glow surrounding it. He peeked around Trevor to see Frida standing on the steps behind Trevor, her hand held up, face contorted in concentration. Her hand was enveloped in that same strange orange glow. David let out a breath of relief. Trevor looked at his fist in confusion, then turned his head, expression going cold. He let his hand drop to his side. He looked from Frida to David, and back again. He shook his head, letting out a scoff.

“Whatever. Waste of my time.” He started walking down the steps, intentionally bumping Frida as he passed her. Frida turned watching him go with an icy gaze. David stepped beside her, watching him go.

“Thanks for that.” He finally said, turning to Frida as Trevor turned the corner.

“Don’t mention it.” Frida said, still looking in the direction Trevor had gone.

“What was he doing here?” She asked

David shrugged. “He was looking for Hilda.”

“Do you know where she is?” Frida asked, turning to look at him sharply.

“No I don’t, I haven’t seen her since the parade I’m sorry to say.” He said slowly,

Frida studied him with a suspicious expression, almost like she thought he was lying.

Has everyone gone mad today? He thought, completely bewildered.

“Honestly!” He said “Scouts honor.” He held up the sparrow scout salute, and she finally seemed to accept what he said. They stood in silence, Frida again looking in the direction Trevor had gone.

“So… what are you doing here?” David eventually asked, breaking the silence.

“Looking for Hilda.” Frida said quietly.

“Why is everyone asking me?” David asked, frustrated. “She has her own house you know!”

Frida just shrugged. “Your house is closer, and I doubt she’s there. I just wanted to know if you'd seen her recently.” She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “I guess we should check though, just in case. Maybe she’s just sick or something.”

“Yeah, maybe…” David agreed. Though he could tell by her expression that Frida didn’t actually believe that, and honestly, he didn’t either. He stepped back inside to grab his shoes, and tell his mom he was going out, then rejoined Frida on the porch and they started off towards Hilda’s. They walked in silence, Frida looking lost in thought, David - for once - unsure of what to say. Frida had been increasingly distant over the last year. She blamed school and a lack of free time, but that wasn’t all of it. David blamed the magic lessons, or maybe just the witch culture in Trollberg. It seemed like witches prided themselves on being reclusive, and it also seemed to be rubbing off on Frida. She suddenly stopped, whirling around and scanning the area behind them. David turned too, but didn’t see anything unusual. Just a few other people further down the street chatting as the walked the opposite direction.

“What is it?” He finally asked.

“I’m not sure, but… I think we’re being followed.” Frida said.

“Is it Trevor?” David asked with a sigh.

Frida shrugged, still scanning the mostly empty street behind them. They continued on their way after a few more seconds of fruitless searching, with David checking over his shoulder ever few seconds. Who could it be? Trevor didn’t seem like the type to patiently follow them through the streets, but he was the only option that made any sort of sense.

Well whoever it is, they can sit back there and rot for all I care.

He pointedly stopped looking behind.

They rounded a corner, and were met with the sight of the Trollberg library, with construction teams outside working on the new patch of road where the Raven had burst through. Workers milled about on the other side of a hastily thrown up chain link fence, with several larger machines idling nearby. They were nearly finished, which meant they had been working at an incredible pace. David wondered idly if the Witches had done something to get the work done faster, they seemed to have their fingers in every part of the city, if you looked hard enough. Signs warning of a closed street littered the area in front of them, and what seemed like miles of tape blocked their path, so David started walking further down the street, ready to take a detour. Frida lagged behind, staring intently at the work, a concerned expression on her face. David walked back next to her, following her gaze.

“How did she manage this one?” Frida asked, her tone both bewildered and annoyed.

“You think Hilda had something to do with this?”

Frida looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t?”

“Well…” He thought for a moment.

“I guess this is the exact sort of thing she’d be involved with.”

Frida nodded absently, her gaze once again on the workers. They watched for a few more minutes, eventually walking to the next street over to continue their journey.

A short time later they arrived at Hilda’s flat. David heard what sounded like a foot scuffing the pavement from behind, and turned, but nobody was in sight. He frowned at the empty street. Was he just hearing things? Frida had turned at the sound as well, and they shared a glance. Eventually they turned back to look at Hilda’s home. The windows were shut as usual, and nothing outside looked out of the ordinary. Johanna’s car wasn’t in it’s usually spot, so she wasn’t home. Hilda could still be in, so they went in and up the stairs, trying the door.

They knocked and waited, but nobody answered.

“Hilda?” David called. No answer. Frida knocked again, louder this time. The door opened, and Tontu stuck his head out.

“Hilda’s not here, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Oh.” Frida said, looking to David.

“Do you know where she is?” David asked, hopeful. The nisse shook his wooly head.

“I haven’t seen her in awhile.”

David sighed. “She must still be out on her adventure.”

Tontu shook his head again. “No she came back, a few days ago. But she left again right after, and she hasn’t been back since. Johanna’s been out all day looking for her.”

“She spent all of yesterday looking too, and the day before that.” A new voice broke in. A second later, Alfur appeared in the doorway.

“I don’t suppose either of you have heard from her?”

David and Frida shook their heads almost in unison.

“That’s why we came over here.” Frida said, holding her arm with her hand.

“Where could she have gone?” David asked, not to anyone in particular, just voicing his thoughts. Nobody said anything. Frida put her hand her chin, thinking.

“When did you say she came back Tontu?” She asked, the familiar quizzical tone in her voice.

Tontu shrugged again. “I don’t remember, a few days ago I think. She didn't talk to anyone before leaving again, so I'm not totally sure.”

Alfur put his hand to his head shaking it slightly.

“Yet another example of why diligent note taking is of the utmost importance.”

He opened his note book and flipped back a few pages, while muttering something about notes.

“Ahh here it is. It looks like it was… somewhere between Monday night and Tuesday morning.”

“The day that the Raven came back.” Frida said with a sigh. “I knew she was involved somehow.”

David, in turn, just shrugged. “That’s hardly conclusive evidence, it could just be a coincidence.”

Frida and Alfur gave him the same flat look in unison, and he was forced to relent.

“Alright, fine, she was probably involved. That still doesn’t explain why she didn’t talk to anyone when she came back. Also, how do you know she came back at all?” He directed the question at the elf, who was putting his notebook bag into his bag.

“Twig went with Hilda, and sometime between when we went to sleep Monday night, and when we woke up Tuesday morning, he appeared back in her room with her pack. We found some muddy footprints, and some blue hair snagged on the window, so we’re pretty confident she was there at some point. But she left before talking to anyone, and she didn’t leave a note or anything.”

“Hmm. Why would she come back just to drop her stuff off?” Frida asked, looking to David. He shrugged, not having any sort of guess.

“I’m sure I couldn’t tell you.” Alfur said.

“Why did she even leave in the first place?” David asked

“That’s a bit of a long story, you’d better come in.”

Alfur said, motioning for them to come in. They stepped in, and Tontu shut the door behind, them jumped behind the nearby shelfs, disappearing. Frida stooped, letting Alfur walk onto her hand, then she stood putting him on her shoulder.

“The day before the bird parade, Hilda got a strange letter in the mail, covered in ancient spirit symbols. She was going to ignore it, but then the Raven never showed up. She thought the letter must be from him - though I tried to explain to her that birds aren’t known to write letters.” He sighed at that. They walked towards the kitchen, and he pointed to the nearby counter from Frida’s shoulder.

“There it is on the counter if you want to look at it.” Frida picked it up, looking it over and checking the backside. She scratched at her head, confused. She sat at the table, and David joined her accepting the card as she handed it too him. He quickly read the note, then looked at the backside finding nothing. He looked up and shrugged, setting the letter next to the remnants of a quick breakfast that still occupied the table. The usual tidy apartment was cluttered, clearly Johanna had been preoccupied with her missing daughter.

“There was a map with it too, leading to some mountain off to the north. It didn’t have a name, and I couldn’t find it on any map when I tried to cross-reference it, so it must be obscure even by mountain standards. I don’t know how she convinced Johanna, but she left early the next morning with Twig, and that’s the last we saw of her.”

“Hey, where is Twig anyway?” David asked, suddenly realizing the absence of the deerfox for the first time.

“Johanna took him with her this morning to help look for Hilda.” Alfur explained. David just nodded. Frida didn’t appear to be paying attention, instead she had picked the note up and again and was looking it over carefully.

“Is the map with her stuff in her room?” Frida asked.

“I’m not sure.” Alfur said, thinking. “We can check if you want.”

Frida looked too David. He just shrugged in reply, so they stood from the table - Frida letting Alfur jump onto her shoulder - and started down the hallway on the familiar route towards Hilda’s room. The door was cracked open, and David pushed it the rest of the way open. Her room was cluttered in the usual ways, with socks spilling out of the drawers, and overdue homework stacked on the desk. A large travel bag sat against the bed, the contents spilled out across the floor. They rummaged around, but they didn’t find a map anywhere.

“Now what?” David asked, standing back up from the pile of clothes he had searched through.

Frida didn’t answer from where she knelt on the floor, digging through the pockets of the pack against the bed. She finished her search a moment later, and sighed.

“I’m not sure honestly. We could ask any of the wall guards if they saw her I suppose, though I doubt they would remember her even if they did.”

It was a solid enough idea, though David also doubted they would have noticed a single girl in the hundreds going through everyday, even if Hilda did stand out at times. Maybe they could ask the Rat king? He shuddered at the thought of walking through the sewers, but he did usually have a good hold on what happened in the city. Maybe they could ask Tildy, and she could… Well, David didn’t know what a witch could do, but surely she knew some spell that could help. Something about witches tugged at his mind, but he couldn’t quite place it…

“Aha!” Frida cried, laying flat suddenly, and shooting her hand under the bed. She sat up a moment later, a map clutched in a triumphant fist. David hurried over, looking her shoulder at the outdated tourist map of the Trollberg valley. A short mountain to the north was circled, with no additional markings or notes.

“Why would the Raven live all the way out there?” Frida asked, co*cking her head slightly.

The raven, and witches…

The tugging he had felt before returned, this time he knew exactly what it was about.

“Kaisa!” David almost shouted, growing excited.

Alfur and Frida looked to him, Frida giving a knowing look.

“Now really isn’t the time David.”

David couldn’t help but blush, but that wasn’t why he had brought the librarian up.

“No, I mean she might have seen Hilda.” Frida just raised an eyebrow.

“Think about it!” David said, trying his best to sound convincing.

“Hilda goes off looking for the Raven, and then the Raven pops out near the library, so Hilda was probably near the library at some point!”

“Good idea!” Alfur said, but just Frida shrugged.

“It’s worth a shot. We don’t have any other leads, at any rate.” She said with a sigh. They took a moment to clean up the mess they had made rummaging through the room, then walked back into the hallway, shutting the door behind them.

“Do you want to come Alfur?” Frida asked as they made their way towards the door.

The elf looked from her shoulder to his room by the window in the kitchen, a stack of tiny letter leaned against it, no doubt thinking of all the work he needed to do. He eventually sighed, and shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid I’m just too busy. Let me know of you find anything though!”

“Of course.” Frida said, and Alfur hopped down from her shoulder. They said their farewells and left the apartment, retracing their steps towards the library.

They arrived shortly after, starting up the steps, dodging through the milling crowd, trying to go as quickly as possible. They eventually got through and into the library, which was luckily much less crowded. The headed up the stairs towards the librarians desk, where they found Kaisa sorting through a tall stack of returned books.

“Hello Frida.” She said, without looking up. She glanced up at David, and gave him a quick smile.

“Hello David.” David felt his cheeks grow warm again. Frida looked from the librarian to David, and back again, rolling her eyes. He took a deep breath and stepped up next to Frida, he refused to be embarrassed. Yes, he had felt some…things when he was younger, and maybe he had written a few cheesy poems about those feelings, but he was over it now. Ancient history. Who could even remember? He shook his head to clear his mind. Kaisa set the book she had been sorting on a stack, and stood, walking around the desk, then leaning casually against the front.

“What can I do for you two?”

“We’re looking for Hilda. She’s been missing for a while. Have you heard from her by chance?” Frida asked.

“Missing? I saw her just the other day.” Kaisa said, sounding confused.

“You did?” David exclaimed, growing excited. “When? What was she doing? And did it have anything to do with the Raven?”

Kaisa blinked at the torrent of questions, but replied quickly.

“Nothing to do with the Raven, as far as I know. She was here a few days ago, with a man I didn’t recognize.” Kaisa said, hand to her chin thinking.

“She said she was helping him break a curse, and he was cursed alright.” She visibly shuddered at the thought.

“I couldn’t do anything about it, so I sent them down to talk to the council of three. I’m not sure what happened after that, it’s a bit of mess down there right now, with the Raven wrecking everything and all.”

Frida and David shared a glance. “Curse? Nothing about the Raven?” David asked, confused.

Kaisa thought for a moment.

“No, she didn’t mention anything about the Raven. It didn’t come until after Hilda and the man left anyway.”

“When did she leave?” David asked.

“I’m not sure.” Kaisa said with a shrug. “I never saw them come back up, but I asked the council and they said that they told them that they couldn’t do anything the help either, and they left back through the library. I was pretty busy up here ,so I must have just missed them.”

“What was the Raven doing down there?” David asked, sharing a glance with Frida.

“No one is quite sure. Abagail said something about her finding it injured on a street somewhere and bringing it back to help… but I have my doubts.” She shrugged, unconcerned. David and Frida shared another look, Frida frowning slightly. She looked truly concerned for the first time during their search. David wished he could comfort her, but he was just as unsure.

“Oh cheer up guys, she’ll be fine!” Kaisa said, noticing their mood.

“This is Hilda after all, she can take care of herself.” She gave them a smile, but slowly let it drop after they didn’t return it.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” David said, though it sounded weak even too him. They stood in silence for a minute, all lost in their own thoughts.

“How long has she been missing?” Kaisa asked, a strange tone in her voice as if trying to sound causal.

Frida looked down, so David spoke.

“The last I saw her was the night of the parade, she apparently left the city the next morning and hasn’t checked in with anyone since.”

Kaisa frowned. “Well that doesn’t seem like her.”

David just shrugged. They stood in silence again, David kicking at the ground softly.

“Well, I guess we’ll be leaving.” Frida eventually said.

“Thanks for the help.” She said to Kaisa, giving a smile.

Kaisa started saying something, but stopped, a thought occurring.

“Wait right here, I have something that might help.” With that, she disappeared into a nearby row of books.

“What do you think it is?” David asked. Frida just shrugged.

“Who knows.” She said softly.

David tried to think of what it might be, but there was just so many things it could be. It might be anything from a spell, to a potion, to a book, or maybe some crazy combination of the three. A moment later Kaisa popped out from a row of shelves opposite the one she had entered, with a large bag held over her shoulder. She walked back over to them and slipped the bag down from her shoulder, holding it close for just a moment, then held it out to Frida. Frida took the bag, looking inside quizzically.

“What is it?” She asked after a moment.

“It’s the ingredients needed for a finding spell.” Kaisa said with a sigh.

“I was going to use it to find some missing books, but this is probably more important.” She said it grudgingly, like she didn’t completely believe what she had said. Frida was staring down at the bag wide eyed, like she had just been given a bag full of gold. She held it back up to the librarian carefully, like the contents were made of the finest glass.

“Kaisa… Are you sure you want to give this to us? This must have taken you-”

“Yes, yes, it took awhile to gather the ingredients.” Kaisa rolled her eyes and pushed the bag back towards Frida.

“But like I said, this is more important.”

“Thank you, Kaisa.” Frida said it almost reverently, clutching the bag to her chest tightly.

Kaisa just rolled her eyes again.

“It’s really not that big of a deal. I assume you can do the circle yourself?”

Frida nodded enthusiastically. “I have a spot in my room set up for it.”

“Good, good. Now hurry! Time is wasting.” Frida nodded, and started off as fast as was appropriate in the library. David tried to thank Kaisa as well, but she cut him off.

“Go, go! Hurry!” She waved him off with a smile, so he took off after Frida. They walked out of the doors, then took off running down the steps. They took off towards Frida’s house, running past people, leaving their cries and shouts behind them. They rounded a corner into a small side street, and almost ran head first into a wall of people. They were standing looking further down the street in a semi circle, muttering and pointing.

“Excuse me.” Frida said, shouldering in between two women. David ducked in behind her. He expected the women to say something snide about misbehaving teenagers, but they didn’t even appear to notice, too enthralled in whatever they were looking at further down the street. What was so interesting? Frida froze unexpectedly and he walked right into the back of her. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Give me some warning, will you?” He said, stepping out next to her. He looked down the street, trying to see what everyone was so worked up about. It was short street, really more of an alleyway that connected two actual streets. It was completely empty of people except the group they were with at one end, and a nearly identical group at the other end, also pointing and muttering about something.

There was nothing in the street though.Just a few abandoned street vender stands, and a lone parked car. Then, strangely, one of the shadows cast by the stands started moving. And then, finally, David realized his error. It wasn’t a shadow at all, but a completely black creature. It stood on four legs, about the size of a horse. It didn’t have a tail, or neck, with only the mere suggestion of a head. It had what you could generously call a snout, but it was far too short, more like a beak, but not so pointy. Now that it was in the sun, the black reflected a slight shimmer, like a film of oil on water. It was slowly approaching the group of people opposite them, not threatening, but something about it was completely off-putting.

“What is that thing?” David asked, looking to Frida. Her eyes were wide, as if in disbelief.

“I have no idea.” She eventually said.

Whatever the thing was, it didn’t seem to be attacking. Maybe it was friendly? Contrary to that thought, it suddenly ran towards the parked car and started attacking. It rammed itself into the side of the car without apparent concern for it’s own safety. People shouted in surprise as the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass filled the air. It quickly tired of smashing into the side, and instead starting slashing it with long claws that appeared on the front legs, leaving deep gouges in the metal. The claws must have been incredibly sharp, since they cut through the metal like paper. Eventually it tired of the car, and started approaching the group opposite them again.

Frida was looking around, her jaw clenched and David knew she was going to try and stop it. Most of the people in Trollberg were very superstitious of any sort of magic, and he worried they would react poorly to a witch in their midsts, but hopefully they wouldn’t mind it so much when it was used to combat the nightmarish monster in front of them. The creature suddenly sprang forwards, causing the people to shy back, some stumbling over each other. Shouts, and screams sounded out through the crowd. Someone shouted to call for the Safety patrol, and several in the crowd belatedly pulled out phones to do just that.

The monster lunged forward again, and this time an older dock worker tripped as he retreated, a mess of brown hair with red streaks flashing out as he fell too the ground. The creature noticed the lone man, left behind by the retreating crowd and advanced again. The seamless skin of what might have been its strange beak/snout opened, revealing a mouth filled with wicked oily black teeth the same color as the skin. The man let out a scream, and tried to get away but the monster was approaching too fast. Frida cursed under her breath, and closed her eyes. She started muttering, and David picked out a slight orange glow around her.

The monster froze, though as far as David could tell, Frida hadn’t actually cast a spell yet. Its eyeless head turned in Frida’s direction, then it started charging straight towards them. People scrambled out of the way, and David let out an embarrassingly high pitched scream. Luckily, his many adventures with Hilda had given him a lot of experience with this exact situation, so he grabbed Frida’s hand and started running for all he was worth.

“Hey!” She shouted, her concentration breaking, but she quickly started running once she noticed the monster quickly bearing down on them. It completely ignored all the others, knocking some over who were too slow to move out of the way.

“Do something!” David shouted, still running as fast as he could. The end of the street was close, but they wouldn’t make it with how fast that thing was going. Frida growled in answer from behind, yanking on his hand, causing them to skitter to a stop. She whirled around, the orange glow returning as she faced the charging beast. It was getting closer by the second, but Frida appeared calm as she started muttering again. She finished the spell letting the last words reach a crescendo as she put her hand out, as if she was trying to catch something. A small orange sphere appeared in her palm, about the size of a ping pong ball. She turned her palm to point towards the monster, and the ball shot out of her hand at incredible speed, smashing into the monster, sending it skidding back, its claws digging into the pavement creating miniature trenches in the road.

The entire process had taken mere seconds, and David was left amazed. The faint glow around Frida faded and groaned, leaning over putting her hands on her knees, breathing hard. Apparently the spell had been draining. People were still running in every direction, apparently not noticing Frida’s magic, or if they did nobody reacted. The creature - who had been momentarily stunned by the orange sphere - reared it’s head, opening its mouth and letting out a sharp sound. It wasn’t a roar, or a shout, just a single pure note. It was loud, some of the retreating people putting hands to their ears to block it out.

The monster started forward again, more cautious but still approaching them quickly. Frida stood up, clenching her hands into fists. David danced from foot to foot nervous. How any more spells could Frida use before tiring? Should they just make a run for it now? Frida shot another glowing ball towards the monster, but it barely reacted to it this time, only flinching slightly. It increased it’s speed, and David let out another scream.

The sound of a roaring engine suddenly came from behind, and approached quickly. A car shot past them, missing David by mere feet, crashing directly into the monster. The sound of crunching metal and shattering glass was overshadowed by a disgusting squelching sound as the monster exploded into oily black tar that sprayed across the street. The car smashed into the curb with the remaining momentum, and the engine sputtered for a few moments before dying. The door opened slowly, and a large man shakily stepped out onto the street, staring out across the street now covered in the tar. The front of the car was covered as well, almost looking like a strange paint job. As they watched, a faint golden smoke started coming off the tar, and a faint hissing sound could be heard.

It’s almost like it’s evaporating. David thought, confused. True to the thought, after no more then a minute none of the tar remained, leaving no residue on anything as far as he could see. The man was inspecting the damage to his car, eventually turning away with a sigh and walked over towards David and Frida. He was tall, with a broad chest. He wore a nondescript T shirt and baseball cap, with plain jeans to match. He wore a full beard, though it appeared to be neatly kept.

“Are you two alright?” He asked

David recognized the voice with a start. It was none other than Erik Ahlberg. When Hilda had told him her crazy story about meeting the retired commander, he had found it difficult to believe, but here he was.

“Yeah we’re fine.” Frida said, then looking to his car “Thanks for that.”

“Don’t mention it!” Erik said, puffing his chest slightly.

“Is your car alright?” Frida asked, peeking out past him and looking at the wreckage.

Erik chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head.

“I was looking for reason to get a newer one anyway.”

They all looked up as a siren sounded from down the street and two safely patrol cars came blasting around the corner. The cars stopped and half a dozen officers piled out, looking around at the debris left behind, along with peoples shopping left where it had been dropped. Two of them ran up to the car, then looked from it to Erik with grim expressions.

“Right.” Erik said with a sigh. “I should probably go talk to them. Are you two sure you’re alright?” They nodded and he jogged over to speak to the two officers.

“Did he seem familiar to you?” Frida asked, looking to David.

David was too bewildered to answer, so he just stared as the former captain of the safety patrol explained the situation to the two officers with animated hand gestures. Several others from the former crowed trailed closer and corroborated the story. From what David could hear, Ahlberg didn’t dramatize anything, he simply told them what happened. If anything, he underplayed his role, not mentioning ‘a heroic intervention’ or some nonsense David would have expected.

“What was that thing?” He asked again, pushing Erik from his mind, looking to Frida.

“I have no idea. I’ve never heard, or read about anything like that thing.”

“… it appeared right of thin air I tell you!” One of the people talking to the officers caught David’s attention.They stepped closer to hear him better.

“I was just walking down the street, one second there wasn’t anything in front of me, next thing I know I’m almost tripping over it! I can’t imagine how it snuck up like that, being as big as it was.”

David looked back to Frida. “We really need to find Hilda.” She nodded.

“Let’s go to my house, come one.”

A hand fell on his shoulder before he could, however. He looked around, and was met with Trevor’s scowl.

“So she is involved! I knew it!”

“Oh, so it was you following us!” David said, sliding Trevors hand off his shoulder and stepping back. Trevor just shrugged, unashamed.

“I told you that blue hair freak would cause trouble, and she did!”

David felt heat in his cheeks, and he wanted to object in her defense, but he was pretty sure Hilda did have something to do with this, if unintentionally. He tried to think of a good retort but Frida spoke up first.

“You don’t know that.” She said, cooly.

“Yeah!” David agreed. Trevor shrugged again.

“Well I guess we’ll see when we find her.”

“We?” David sputtered, incredulous.

“You are not coming with us.” Frida said, almost amused.

Trevor shrugged yet again. “I don’t think you can stop me, it was pathetically easy to trail you all day. I’ll just follow you. Plus, you might want some extra muscle. I don’t know what a ‘finding spell’ is, but from the name of it, it’s going to find her for you, meaning you don’t actually know where she is. Meaning you could be going anywhere, and if you're following the blue haired freak, it'll probably be dangerous."

Frida didn’t say anything, just kept staring, her arms folded.

“So what,” David said, still feeling angry. “You’re just going to help out like we’re old pals? Piss off!”

“I’m not doing it out of the goodness of my heart.” Trevor sneered. “But whatever she’s gone and done, I want to know about it, if only so I can prepare for it.”

David just laughed, looking to Frida, who - incredibly - actually seemed to be considering it.

“Let me and David talk it over.” She said to Trevor.

“What?” David cried as she pulled him aside.

“It might not be the worst idea David.” She whispered, not looking back at Trevor who had taken a few steps back with his arms folded.

“What?” He hissed back, feeling strangely betrayed. “Why would we ever want Trevor of all people around?”

Frida shrugged, almost apologetic.

“As much as I don’t like it, he is right. We have no idea where we’re going. We very well might be going somewhere dangerous, and we could do worse for extra muscle.” She looked over to where the man was still trying to convince the officer.

“…Especially if monsters are appearing out of thin air.”

She was right, David knew it, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. Something about Trevor just rubbed him so wrong.

“Fine. Whatever.” He said, jerking out of her grip. Frida just rolled her eyes, and muttered something about him being impossible. She turned back to Trevor who walked back over.

“You can come with us, but if start anything I swear I will turn you into a toad.”

David was reasonably sure Frida couldn’t do that (at least on purpose) yet, but it was funny to see Trevor gulp nervously.

“It’s not me you need to worry about, it’s the blue haired freak.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“And no more of that!” David almost shouted.

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

David growled, wanting to shout some more, but Frida touched him lightly on the shoulder. He locked eyes with her, but sighed after a moment.

Fine, I’ll be the bigger person here. The thought had more spite then he thought he was capable of.

“Well, let’s head to my house.” Frida said looking between them. David looked away with a huff, and Trevor just shrugged. Frida sighed, rubbing her eyes.

“This will be fun…” She muttered, but started down the street past the officers and people still giving statements. David stepped up next to her, and Trevor trailed behind. They walked the remaining distance in silence until they arrived at Frida’s house a few minutes later. She unlocked the door and they trooped up to her room, where she had a casting circle set up. David didn’t know the specifics, but some spells required a special circle to get them to work properly. Something about special symbols or some such nonsense. She set the bag down and rummaged through it, pulling out various jars and bags filled with the ingredients needed. She spent a few minutes setting up in seemingly random places around the circle, but eventually she was ready.

She started chanting, and the orange glow appeared again, stronger this time. The circle starting glowing a different color, more of a gold. Frida chanted for several minutes, as David and Trevor stared on. Eventually Frida stopped, and the ingredients turned that same gold color, then broke apart into tiny golden spheres of light that slowly floated towards the center of the circe where they combined into a much larger sphere. Once all of the smaller ones had combined, the large sphere started pulsing slowly, then faster, and faster until the pulse became a steady glow.

The glow got brighter, and brighter until it was hard to look at. David shielded his eyes, but the glow vanished quickly after that. He dropped his hand to see that the sphere was gone. In it’s place, was a floating orange needle, maybe 4-5 inches long. It looked like the needle of a compass, but without the case around it. Frida held her hand underneath, and after a moment she let her hand fall, and the needle came with her hand, floating a few inches above her hand. It pointing towards the wall, and as Frida turned her hand, the needled turned to continue pointing in the same direction.

“Is it pointing to Hilda?” David asked

Frida nodded, staring at the needle intently.

“I’m not positive, but… I think she’s pretty far away. Not in the city for certain, maybe a few miles into the forest.”

“How many miles?” Trevor asked.

“I don’t know, it’s not specific.” Frida said, still looking at the needle. She closed her hand, and it vanished. She then opened her hand, and it reappeared.

“Well that’s not much help.” Trevor muttered.

“I’d like to see you do better.” Frida said, making the needle appear and disappear again.

“Should we grab some supplies? A tent maybe?” David asked.

Frida thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t think she’s that far out. Let’s grab some water, and food though. We’ll probably be gone for the rest of the day.”

David nodded, then looked in the direction the spell had pointed, thoughts turning towards his friend, wherever she was.

Chapter 12: Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Many misunderstand how Drekamaður magic works, thinking it to be like witch magic, using spells to create a specific result. This is incorrect. A witch can cast any spell - let us use a simple levitation spell as an example. The witch casts the spell on whatever the target might be. The object will rise to the desired height, and stay there as long as the ingredients dictate it should. A Drekamaður on the other hand, does not cast a spell, they would simply use magical energy to manipulate how gravity effects them, or an object they choose. The possibilities are endless with the latter, while the former is much more structured. The magic of a Drekamaður is much more fluid, with very few hard rules. As long as you have the magical energy required, the only limit is one’s own mind.

-From ‘Jéspiat’s guide to life as a Drekamaður’, page 13 paragraph 1

Hilda tossed the pillow into the air, directly above where she was laid on Woodman’s plush couch. The pillow slowed, and stopped right before hitting the ceiling before falling back down towards her. She pinched her eyes shut - already filled with a small amount of energy - and tried to push out around herself mentally. The pillow plopped right onto her face with a soft smack. Hilda let out a muffled groan from underneath, before pulling the pillow off and sitting up. She had been trying to recreate the magical shield she had made accidentally while escaping the witches, but so far had been unsuccessful. Her ability to absorb magical energy had returned yesterday afternoon, and she had been practicing ever since. She had only been able to get the faintest trickle at first, but now she was back to 100%. She gave the pillow next to her a side long glance. Maybe not one hundred percent. It was nice to just hold some though.

She walked over to the window, looking out on a warm summer afternoon. The sounds of insects and birds were muffled by the thick glass, but still faintly audible to her. She glanced at the large old fashioned grandfather clock on the wall. 2:37 PM, it read. A loud tick tock could be heard as the second hand moved. With her enhanced hearing, she could hear it no matter where she was in the house, which should have been annoying, but Hilda found it quite pleasant, something about the rhythmic consistency was very comforting. The sound was broken by a buzzing fly that wove lazy circles around her, then flew back into the kitchen. She followed it to the kitchen, looking for something to eat. She searched but didn’t find anything that suited her, which was just as well, seeing as she wasn’t actually hungry, just bored. She made her way back to the living room, and looked at the clock again. 2:39 PM. She let out a long sigh, looking around the room for anything else to do.

Her eyes fell on the coffee table, where the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle were still sitting after she had dumped them out of the box earlier that day. She had put a few of the pieces together earlier, but had given up quickly. With a resigned sigh she sat on the edge of the couch, and started matching pieces in methodical fashion. She quickly found the corners and got most of the perimeter laid out. It was tedious work, but also satisfying in a way. After what felt like an hour, she finally had the entire perimeter laid out, connected all the way around. The fly came back, and landed on her arm. She shooed it away, and as she did she glanced behind her at the clock. 2:42 PM. She fell back on the couch with a groan, rubbing her face. The day was beyond dragging. It already felt like lunch had been a week ago. She sat back up, looking all around the empty house for any sort of activity to take up the time.

She opened a small tear and let the energy fill her, but that just made the boredom worse. The energy made her want to jump up and run out the door, looking for something exciting. She forced herself to remain seated. She could go outside, and walk around Woodman's yard, but that would just tempt her to run off into the forest, which she couldn't do until Harold got back. The only sound was the steady tick-tock as the clock counted the seconds. She wished the Raven was still around. Despite her earlier sentiment, going on a flight over the forest would have been wonderful right about then. She even wished Woodman was still around, just for some conversation. He had left the same day as her father, a few hours after. As usual, he had given no explanation of where he was going, or when he would return. That was almost 2 days ago now, and Hilda couldn’t help but worry. Not about Woodman, she knew very well he could take care of himself. And she wasn’t worried Harold had decided to run off, she was sure he had been genuine when he promised her he wouldn’t. No, she was worried something had happened to him. He was literally a bad luck magnet after all.

Maybe the witches had captured him, or maybe he had gotten injured somehow on the journey. Maybe he was lost. Had he ever been to Woodman’s house before? Woodman had mentioned that they had known each other previously, but hadn’t gone into detail. Hilda only vaguely knew how to get to Trollberg from here, she would probably just end up finding the remains of her old house and go from there, even though it was pretty far out of the way. Harold had been on the safety patrol though, surely he knew his way around. Or maybe he didn’t. She just didn’t know, and it was driving her crazy. All she could do was wait and worry. It was probably karma, seeing as her poor mother would be feeling the same feeling a hundred times over. She felt guilty, but it’s not like she had meant to disappear for, what… 8 days? The excuse seemed shaky at best, but it did help her feel a bit better. She grabbed the pillow again, and tried a few more times to get the shield to work, all in vain. She eventually stopped the useless exercise, walking back to the kitchen for a glass of water. Once she returned, her eyes fell on the coffee table, where the book sat next to the unfitted puzzle.

She wondered absently if there were instructions - or better yet a detailed guide - for the shield, but judging by what she had already read, it seemed unlikely. It had lots of great information, but it was also incredibly frustrating. The book told her to experiment, listing dozens of potential abilities without any real explanation of how to use them. But at the same time, the book also warned that experimentation was dangerous and should only be done with a suitable mentor, which she didn't have. The book also said to practice what she already knew, but she hadn’t been able to get the shield working at all. It was all so frustrating. She had tried putting the illusion on earlier, which luckily had worked without a hitch. Out of boredom, she tried it again, and was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was now.

She walked to the mirror and looked back at herself. Her old face almost seemed like a stranger now. Had her cheeks really always been that round? How had she survived being this short? There was only a few inches of difference but it was very noticeable to her. With a sigh, she started letting go off the illusion, but then stopped, noticing something. She looked down at her arms. They were ordinary, just regular skin covered by her favorite yellow jacket. But before, the illusion had always shown her wearing her customary red jacket. She was also missing her hat, and sturdy boots. She was instead barefoot, with her hair put back in a pony tail. This was what she would wear if she was going to, well, just sit around the house, just as she had been doing for the past few days. Was the illusion changing? Or was she subconsciously changing it herself? She let the illusion drop, now curious. She put it on again, this time focusing specifically on the clothing. She felt the now familiar icy feeling wash over her, and she now wore her red jacket and hat.

That will come in handy.

She hadn’t even considered that if she went back home, and wore the illusion basically all of the time, people might find it strange she always wore the same clothes, luckily it wouldn’t be a problem now. Curious, she tried changing the clothing while the illusion was still active, closing her eyes and focusing hard. When she opened her eyes, she was excited to find she was once again wearing the yellow jacket. It would be super handy to not have to drop the illusion anytime she wanted to change outfits.

What else can I change?She thought, putting her hand to her chin.

Her imagination starting running wild with possibility. Could she change her skin or hair color? Could she change her height, or features? That raised another question entirely. Could she use the illusion to look like other people? She tried all of the ideas, but found little success. She could change the shade of her hair, but it was still a vibrant blue despite her efforts. Her skin tone seemed stubbornly locked, as well as her height. She dropped the illusion, and tried to make an illusion of Frida, since they were around the same height and build. She built the mental picture, and it almost worked, the magic flowing out of her and the icy feeling washing over her. It fell apart almost instantly though. She felt like she could get it to work with more practice, maybe. She walked back to the couch and picked up the book, hoping to find some information about the illusion magic. She started flipping through the pages looking for any mention of using illusions, but paused when a passage caught her eye.

Connection tracing is one of the first things I recommend learning. Firstly, it is a very important skill that every Drekamaður needs to have full command over. Secondly, It requires very little magic and is a great starting point for beginners. And finally, it is not dangerous in the slightest, unlike the vast majority of inexperienced magic use. But before anything, it may be prudent to explain what exactly ‘connection tracing’ even is. Everything around us, be it plant, animal - or even concepts, such as places - build connection with each other. While the process of building connection is not fully understood, the biggest factor is time. Perhaps two friends spending time with each other, or one person spending time in a certain place. Although, two people could spend hours a day right next to each other and never build more then a flimsy string, so time is not the only factor. Regardless, everyone has connections, including you. These strings of connection are usually invisible, and cannot be interacted with by normal means. Fortunately for us, Drekamaður are anything but normal, so this will not be an issue for us. The exercise is simple. Fill yourself with a smidgen of energy, just enough to feel a tingle in your fingers. After that, just close your eyes and picture - in exquisite detail - family members, close friends, your home, places you frequent, or places you enjoy spending time. It may take a few attempts, but if done correctly this will show you all the normal connections you have with the people and world around you. If you are concerned about abnormal connections, or connection manipulation, we will discuss them in a later section. For the now, the basics will suffice.

Hilda raised an eyebrow, the initial reason for opening the book completely forgotten.

Abnormal connections? What the heck does that mean?

She thought, growing excited. Her curiosity was piqued, so she riffled through the pages until she found the appropriate page.

‘Abnormal connection’ is a phrase that covers a very broad list of actual effects. The most basic definition is any connection that doesn’t form naturally. Anything from familiar bonding, to curses. All Drekamaður one, a link between yourself and the Dragon that chose you. If you have more, then I suspect you already know why. If you don’t, then all I can do is wish you good luck. As some of you may have already guessed, this connection to your patron Dragon is what allows you to access the magical realm. As you should know by now, all magic requires two things. The ability to use magic, and a source of magical energy. As a Drekamaður, you have the ability to use the energy, but left alone, you have no way to access the magic needed. Dragons, are innately able to access the magic realm, and through the Drekamaður bond, so can you. Now, as for actually viewing these connections, the process is nearly the same - you just focus on seeing the abnormal connections in place of the normal versions. The difference is that viewing the abnormal connections will steadily drain your body of magic at a significant rate. Why? Well, to be perfectly frank with you, I haven’t the faintest idea. As I mentioned earlier in this book, many things about connection are still unknown. Perhaps one of my readers will discover the secret, or perhaps it will remain a mystery. In any case, I would recommend staying away from the abnormal until the normal is - at the very least - understood.

Hilda frowned. She should probably just worry about the regular connections for the time being, assuming she could even get those to work.

She flipped back to the first section, quickly re-reading the instructions. She closed her eyes, as the book suggested. She pictured her mother first. Johanna sitting in her customary spot at her desk, drawing something for work. She imagined the sound of her voice, the look Johanna always gave when Hilda had done something stupid. Equal parts concern, incredulity, and annoyance. But at the same time filled with as much love as you could imagine. Just thinking of it make Hilda smile over the sudden stab of loneliness it brought as well. She moved on to picturing David and Frida next, then Twig. She went through everyone she could think of, adding as much detail as she could. She imagined places as well. Her home, the school, the library, dozens of locations flickered through her mind. She started repeating people and places, going through the list a few times to be sure.

Tentatively, she peeked an eye open. Her jaw dropped slightly as she saw dozensof ethereal gold strings leading away from in her in every direction. Some were bigger then others, some pulsed slightly at seemingly random intervals. She hesitantly touched one of the larger pulsing ones with a single finger, worried she might break it somehow. It was warm to the touch, and almost seemed to vibrate under he finger. Along with that, came a crystal clear image of David to her mind. It was uncanny how detailed the image was, and considering further, she didn’t think this image was from her memory. There was no backdrop, or context to the image. It was just David, not as she pictured him in her memory, but as he was. Something else came with the image however, a feeling, or feelings maybe. It was hard to understand, and the feeling wasn’t immediately clear. She grabbed hold of the strand, hoping more contact would help somehow. It didn’t change anything unfortunately. She held on, trying to decode the strange sensations coming through the line, but eventually gave up. She touched the smaller line next David’s. This one didn’t pulse at all, but held an even golden glow. The brought the school building to her mind. Curious, she touched another static line, this one being the city overlook she liked to visit. She grabbed one of the pulsing lines and Alfur was brought to mind.

So the static ones are places, and the pulsing lines are people?

She touched a few more to test the hypothesis and found it to be correct. She spent awhile just touching lines, trying to understand the feelings that came through. Some were easy, happy, bored, tired. But some were very complex, and it seemed that the larger the line, the more complex it was. Touching the lines was also comforting, it made her feel less lonely. Time flew by, but she didn’t notice or care. She mainly focused on the medium/large lines, as there were far too many of small lines, some so small she could barely see them. Touching these didn’t bring much other then vague colors, that could have been faces or places if she was being generous. It didn’t bother her, it was nice to just remember she wasn’t alone, not really. Just because she wasn’t in the city, just because her friends and family were busy, that didn’t mean she was instantly forgotten. The lines proved it, and she basked in the feelings they brought. The longer she held on, the easier it was to tell what emotion was coming through.

Frida was feeling determined, along with annoyed. David was - perhaps unsurprisingly - feeling afraid, but he shared a healthy amount of determination. As for Johanna, the only feeling Hilda felt though the line was pure, unadulterated dread. Almost to the point of being overwhelming. Consuming, choking, hopeless dread. This just made Hilda feel even worse, and she let go of the line as if the dread was physically painful. It was obvious why her mother felt that way, because she was gone. Yet again. Hilda sat back, hanging her head in her hands. Was there anyway she could send a message to her mother? Why hadn’t she sent one with Harold? He could have dropped it off while he was there. She silently cursed her lack of foresight. She moved on from Johanna’s line, hoping to regain some of the comfort she had felt just minutes ago. She also wanted to find Harold’s line. She expected it to be one of the smaller lines, because of the short time they had known each other. She searched all of the smallest lines she could still get a clear face from, but didn’t find him.

She did eventually find his line, and it was larger then she had expected. The emotions were still very foggy, but it didn’t seem like the emotions of a man captured by witches. It was hard to say, but Hilda got the sense he was ok, which was a huge relief. She just had to wait until he got back. She went through the rest of the lines, but she had already touched most of them, and the rest were too small to give a distinctive face. With a sigh, she stopped viewing the connections. They faded slowly until they vanished completely. She wasn’t done yet, however. She quickly re read the section about the abnormal connections. It seemed easy enough, though the instructions were vague. She opened a small tear and closed her eyes, imagining abnormal connections. Opening her eyes, she saw that nothing had happened.

Undeterred, she closed her eyes and tried again. This time she imagined Kona, and the contract she had signed, and everything it had done. Magic starting draining out of her slowly, and when she opened her eyes she was met by the sight of a massive blue connection line. Unfortunately, two smaller lines flanked it on both sides, making three in total.

T hree? Why are there three?

The large blue one was obviously the Drekamaður bond the book had spoken of, but what were the other two? The first of the two was about half as large as the blue one, and pulsed a bright silver, almost white. The other was a static orange, with an oily sheen. She clasped her hands and stared at the lines, trying to make sense of it. Why were there three? What did the colors mean? And above all else, why did she have to deal with this? Her hands balled into fists and she stood, glaring at the far wall. She started pacing, walking back and forth to try and calm down. She didn’t let go of the connection strands though, the steady drain of magic wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it felt good in the same satisfying way a work out did. It helped distract her, but it couldn’t take her focus completely, and soon the same feeling of cruel unfairness that she had felt upon first seeing herself in Kona’s cave washed over her.

Perhaps it was childish to still get upset over matters of fair and unfair, but she couldn’t help it. Every time it seemed like her life was going well, something completely insane happened and threw everything out the window. First the giant crushing her home, then getting kidnapped by Trilia, and most recently this whole fiasco with Kona. And now, just when things had started to feel even slightly normal, this. and she was soon back to the She was just so tired of her life being turned upside down without warning, so tired of constantly needing to adjust. Most of her friends and classmates were planning for the future, deciding who and what they wanted to be. Hilda had no plans, and if she wasn’t careful, she wouldn’t have a future either. It was all so frustrating, it made her want to scream, to break something, to let the world know how she felt in an aggressive way. But no, that wouldn’t help anything, and it wouldn’t help her figure out what the other lines were.

She took some deep breaths, letting herself calm down. She once again sat on the couch, looking at the three lines. Hesitantly she reached out and touched the orange line. It had the same oily feeling as the witches magic below the library. Her hand recoiled instinctively. She grit her teeth and seized it again, trying not to squirm at the oily feeling. This time, the oil didn’t try to get to her like it had before, it just sat on the line complacently. No impression came through the line. No feeling, no place came to her mind. Nothing. Eventually she let go, confused. Every other line she had touched so far had given her something - even if she couldn’t tell what it was. But this one was just empty. She touched it again, just to be sure, cringing at the oily sheen. Still nothing. She removed her hand, almost disappointed. The book had made such a big deal of these so called abnormal connections, but they weren’t exactly exciting.

Or at least this one isn’t.

She thought, turning her attention to the large silver line. It pulsed slowly, much like the regular golden ones had, though the pulsing seemed different somehow. Maybe the rhythm was slightly faster? She wasn’t sure, but it probably didn’t mean anything. With a sigh she touched the silver line. The silver line started drinking in her magical energy, at an incredible rate. Without even thinking, she increased the size of the tear to compensate. Before she could think to congratulate herself at the quick save, she was assaulted by the feelings that came through the line. They were much stronger then anything else she had felt before. They were more then just feelings. Thoughts, raw emotions, this was a presence, like the person was right in front of her.

“Hilda? Is that you?”

The words were hesitant, but she heard them clearly. She was sure nobody had actually spoken aloud, meaning they had come directly into her mind. They weren’t really words either. They were strings of thought and emotion, that she interpreted as plain old English.

“Hello?” She spoke aloud. No answer.

“Hello?” She tried pushing the thought into the line. This time the answer was almost immediate.

“How are you doing this?”

The ‘voice’ as it was, was familiar, but at the same time it wasn’t quite right, like the accent was different. Before she could send an answer the voice started up again.

“Actually, that doesn’t matter right now. Are you alright? Where have you been? We’ve all been so worried…”

The words came through in a tumble, and it took Hilda a moment to separate them into coherent sentences. It was so excitable, like the way a dog might run around her in the street, jumping all around and barking. In fact, it was kind of like…

“Twig? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be? Anyway, are you alright?”

“Yes I’m fine. You can talk?”

Twig sent back the mental equivalent of a dry laugh.

“No, unfortunately. And we’re not talking, the bond is just extra strong right now for some reason. Strong enough for mental communication, which the ———(he sent a string of thoughts that Hilda couldn’t translate. It was sort of like an elder, and sort of like the leaders. Except they didn’t lead, and they didn’t have to be old. It didn’t make much sense to her, but she was sure it was some of the other deerfox) said shouldn’t be possible - not for a long time anyway. I assume you have something to do with it?

“Oh, well… yeah, probably.”

Hilda was sure the extra drain wasn’t a coincidence. Apparently she was using magical energy to boost the connection. It was taking a lot though, and she was starting to feel slightly drained. She wanted to say more, but felt strangely awkward - a feeling that was mirrored by Twig.

Twig eventually broke the silence.

“Where have you been? Are you ok?

“I’m alright Twig, I promise.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the way he tried to mother her. She wouldn’t have expected anything less. Talking to him felt so natural, it was hard to believe it had never happened before.

“I’ve been staying with Woodman and… and some other friends.”

She briefly considered explaining her father to Twig, but decided it would be better to do in person.

“Why haven’t you come back? Are you in trouble?”

The words came with a desire to protect her, strong enough to momentarily overwhelm her own emotions and instill a desire in herself. To protect herself. It was gone after a moment but Hilda found it profoundly bizarre. She shook herself, and answered carefully. She had planned on explaining the witches, but now it seemed like it might be better not to worry him.

“I might be in trouble, though it’s a long story. I’ll explain it later.”

“Should I come to you? I’m out with your mom - we were looking for you actually. I could bring her too.”

She was about to ask how he would find her, but then realized that she had a vague sense of his location. She turned her head to look in the direction she knew he was, and knew she could get to him in a couple of hours - though she couldn’t tell the exact distance.

“No, at least, not yet. I have someone checking the city to see if it’s safe to come back.”

“Safe? Why wouldn’t it be safe? What did you do?”

“It’s a long story.”

Hilda repeated, grimacing to herself.

“So you keep saying. I guess you can just tell me about it when you get back.

Hilda wasn’t sure what to say. How did she explain that she might be coming back? How did she explain she might be on the run from a group of witches? The silence stretched as Hilda searched for something to say.

“…You are coming back, aren’t you?” Twig eventually asked.

“I… I’m not sure if I can. I might have really messed up this time, and there might be some people after me.”

The silence was even longer this time, to the point Hilda worried the communication had somehow broken off.

“I should apologize.” Came the eventual response. It wasn’t what Hilda had expected. A reprimand? Sure. A plea for her to come back? Almost certainly. An apology though?

“After you came out of the cave… Well, I was just surprised. I shouldn’t have acted so cold. I’m so sorry. You’re my ———(Another word Hilda couldn’t translate. It was like a friend, but more. Almost like family, but maybe even more then that. Like two people that had spent their entire lives together, knowing and trusting each other completely), and I should never treat you like that. Please, come back. We all miss you so much.

The sorrow and regret that came with words shocked Hilda. She hadn’t realized how guilty Twig had felt. Although, thinking about it, it made sense. To his eyes, she had just disappeared. He had no idea how she felt about this.

“It’s alright Twig. I don’t blame you, there’s no way you could have prepared for… what happened to me.”

She tried to send as much love as she could with the words. Twig really was her best friend, and he was important to her. Twig didn’t respond with words, but she felt the weight come off his shoulders.

“But I’m sorry, I can’t come back yet."

Twig sent back a mental nudge, curious about the exact situation. Like a look someone might give in a face to face conversation.

I don’t want really want to talk about it, but I’m not sure if it’s safe yet. I promise I’ll let you know if I have to leave.”

“Ok. If we have to leave, we will leave.”

They didn’t say anything else. It was just nice to feel each others presence, knowing that the other was safe and content for the time being. The drain was really starting to catch up to her, so she regretfully said her goodbye, promising to talk to him later. She let go on the line, sighing like a man setting down a heavy load. She closed the tear a moment later, and leaned back on the couch as the last of the magic slowly leaked away. She let out a yawn, curling up on the couch and promptly fell asleep.

Several hours later she awoke groggy and slightly disoriented on the same couch. She stretched, and stood to shake off the last vestiges of sleep that still clung to her. Looking out the window she saw it was late in the afternoon, almost evening. Her stomach growled, prompting her to walk to the kitchen. After a light meal of what you might call a sandwich (a thick slice of cheese stuffed between woodman’s homemade bread) she returned to couch. There still wasn’t much to do, but Hilda found herself much less restless, so she sat back on the couch and started back on the puzzle. She let her mind wander as her fingers worked, keeping enough attention to find the correct pieces. Things seemed better now that she had talked to Twig, and felt close to everyone again. Staying put didn’t seem so bad anymore. She placed the last puzzle piece, almost without realizing.

She glanced at the clock and was surprised to see almost an hour had passed. She looked back at the completed picture - depicting a cloud filled skyline, with a few Woffs floating through one corner. She felt a surprising amount of satisfaction at the relatively simple task. Incredible what one could do when there was literally nothing else. She glanced out the window and saw that the shadows were growing long, sunset probably being less then an hour away. She felt worry start to creep in again. Surely he wouldn’t be gone another day? Was something keeping him? There was no way to know, and nothing to do but wait. She wasn’t going to be cooped up inside any longer though. She wanted to at least enjoy the sunset. She hastily threw on an illusion, and walked to the front door. She wasn’t going to leave the area, she just wanted to be outside. To hear the sounds of the forest, and see the open sky above her. She opened the door and stepped out, taking a deep breath of the evening air.

She looked up, but couldn’t see the horizon through the dense foliage all around. She scanned the immediate area for a good vantage point, and eventually decided the best spot was the higher branches of Woodman’s house itself, as it was the tallest tree for miles around. There weren’t many lower beaches to start the climb, but she thought she saw a route that would work, especially with her enhanced strength. The real issue was started the climb. The lowest branch was a solid 12 or 13 feet off the ground. She honestly wasn’t sure if she could get to that. She backed up a bit, giving her self as much of a running start as she could, then dashed forward. She leapt into the air, arms outstretched. Her fingers came within 6 inches of the branch, but she couldn’t grab anything but open air. She landed awkwardly, and fell into a heap. She picked herself up, and started dusting herself off, before remembering her clothes were fake. Looking down, they still had dust on them, and brushing it off did seem to work… She decided not to think about it too hard. She gave her self more room this time, and tried again. This time, the tips of her fingers just barely grazed the branch, but she still fell short. She landed better this time, keeping her balance. She looked back at the branch, with irrational annoyance.

One more try.

She thought, feeling stubborn. She backed up a few more paces, staring at the branch. She could imagine herself soaring through the air and seizing it. She was determined. She crouched down, getting ready to sprint. Then, on a whim, she opened a small tear and filled with a partial charge of energy. It put an extra spring in her step, and made her feel more confident. She squinted at the branch, and started forward, throwing everything she had into each step. She got to full speed, tearing across Woodman’s front lawn. She let out a yell as she ran, and sprang with everything she had. A split second before she left the ground, she felt her magic draining out of her in a rush, and at the same time she felt herself become lighter, as if gravity had momentarily lost it’s effect on her.

She soared into the air right past the branch, easily going 20 feet into the air. She was so shocked she didn’t notice her magic running out, gravity once again taking hold. Her upwards momentum petered out, and she started back towards the ground. She let out a scream, but luckily the branches were more common up here, and she managed to grab one. She hung onto the branch bewildered, but also filled with an adrenaline fueled giddiness. She couldn’t help but let out a joyful laugh. She opened a tear and filled herself to bursting. Could she do that again? She imagined herself growing lighter, and to her surprise it worked. The magic started draining again - not too quickly - and her body became nearly weightless. She pulled herself on top of the branch easily, almost floating away before steadying herself. She found that she could adjust the effect, going from just a small change to nearly weightless, though the amount of energy consumptions stayed the same.

She put herself at half her normal weight (she wasn’t sure how she knew the exact amount) and jumped for a thick branch above her. She reached it easier then she had expected and nearly smacked her head into it. She managed to get her hands out above her at the last second though, and avoided smacking. She pulled herself up onto that branch, and gave a broad smile. She jumped from branch to branch, laughing with glee as she went. She hadn’t felt this free since that night jumping though the mountains as a troll. She quickly reached the top of the canopy, popping out near the edge of the cover of leaves, causing a few nearby birds to take off across the forest. She leaned out, looking towards the sunset, needing only one hand to keep herself from falling because of her modified weight. It was a beautiful night, the sky already a deep orange, with purple creeping in from the edges. The few clouds in the area almost seemed to glow a deep gold, reflecting the sunlight in just the right way. Hilda breathed in deeply, enjoying the evening air, which was much cooler up here then it had been on the ground. From up here, everything seemed ok. Up here, it wasn’t a question if Harold would return, or if she could go back to Trollberg. Everything seemed fine up here.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply the smells of the forest, listening to usual chatter of birds, being joined by the first of the nighttime insects waking up from their daytime slumber. She opened her eyes, and after a few minutes of searching, she found a nice spot to sit. It faced towards the sunset, and happened to have a good view of the clearing in front of Woodman’s house. Her eyes kept drifting down, hoping to spot movement. Nothing stirred below, and she realized she was in for another night alone. The thought of another restless night spent worrying made the formally pleasant night feel chilly. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, and watched the sun slowly sink behind the mountains.

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Chapter Text

Now as some of you well know, no two dragons are alike. While the color of a Dragon can give you some small idea of the general disposition of said Dragon, their personalities are hardly set in stone. It is true the red Dragons are the most aggressive and prone to warfare, but some are cruel - leading armies to pillage and destroy anything in their path - and some are more just. Purple are known for their mastery of the arcane, but what you probably don’t know is they are also quite found of games of strategy. Out of all the eight Dragon colors however, none are more interesting to me then the blues. They are the rarest, and they are the only Dragons that seem to have a natural disposition to help the people around them. While there are many dragons of other colors that are highly regarded among people, none so highly as the blues.

-From ‘Jéspiat’s guide to life as a Drekamaður’, page 45 paragraph 1

Harold felt it pounding, straining, trying to escape. He held in by sheer force of will until he got a few miles away from Woodman’s home. The bad luck had been building again ever since the confrontation with the Witches. It had been manageable, only slightly bothersome, but now it seemed to have reached critical mass, and sooner or later, Harold knew it would get out with or without hispermission. He had intended to go further, just in case it somehow reached Hilda all the way back there, but it seemed he had no choice. He quickly checked around him to make sure there wasn't a hiker out, or anyone else nearby who might get hurt. Finding himself blessedly alone, he released his hold on it, and it rushed out of him in force.

He tensed, looking all around, ready for anything. He heard a sound from above, as a bird took flight from a branch. He watched it fly off into the distance, looking for a new suitable perch. It collided mid air with another bird. He blinked in surprise, but before he could walk over to check on the poor birds, he heard a groaning sound from next to him. He turned his head to the large pine tree next to him, and was shocked to see it slowly tipping. Inch by inch until it went far enough, and crashed to the ground next to him. He couldn’t help but stare. He had somehow brought down an entire tree with the destructive force held inside.

By why can I control it now? I never could before…”

He looked back to the tree, feeling a bit regretful. Maybe control was a strong word. Still, he had never felt anything like it before. He had never noticed the string of coincidences until it had been pointed out to him. In the years since, he had been able to spot some of the effects of his curse, but this was different. What had changed? He couldn’t think of anything. It had only started after Hilda had found him, but he had met Hilda before - although she hadn’t known who he was at that point. Maybe that somehow made a difference? Or maybe something else had happened. He couldn’t be sure.

He walked over to check on the birds that had crashed into each other, only to find them sitting next to each other on a branch above.They seemed to be alright, so he continued on his way. He really was a force of chaos wasn’t he. He had promised Hilda he would come back, but how was he supposed to be around when he had a destruction timer constantly resetting? Even as he thought that he could feel just a smidge of the bad luck starting to build again. It was nowhere near strong enough to need a release, but he could tell this would be a recurring event.

Hilda really would be better off without me.

He stopped on the trail, looking back the way he had come - though the cabin was well out of sight by now. Was he really considering this? Again, not even two hours after looking her in the eyes and promising he wouldn’t? But he was dangerous! As just proven, and as proven time and time again, he was very capable of hurting those around him. He looked down, letting out a long sigh, unsure of what to do. Every choice he could think of make seemed wrong, every option bad. He let out a groan, throwing his hands above him. He was about to start another bout of self pity when his thoughts turned towards Hilda. Compared to her, his life was down right enviable. Forced from her home, attacked and nearly killed. Forced to hide from family and friends.

And to top it all off, she has a dullard like you for a father.

In this perspective, his choice was obvious. He would stick by her, no matter what. He would just have to find a way to protect her from himself. He started walking down the path again, trying to think of ways he could stay nearby without endangering Hilda. Although, a certain memory of Hilda picking him up in the Witches tower came to mind. She had hoisted him above her head as if he hadn’t weighed anything. Maybe she would just fine with him around… It should have been a gloomy thought, but at the same time he wanted to laugh. Maybe everything would be alright after all.

Everything was not alright. Many hours later, a cold, stiff, and frustrated Harold peeked out from around the tree, looking towards the main gate of Trollberg. The trip had taken him much longer then it should have, with him encountering setback after setback. Well, really just one setback. He had gotten completely and utterly lost. He had wandered the forest for hours, using the sun to go what he thought was the correct direction. Somehow he had gotten mixed up and ended up several miles further east then he would have wanted. By then it had already nearly been dark, so he had no choice but to sleep under a tree until this morning. He had woken uncomfortable and miserable at sunrise, and hiked the last few miles to the city gate, which he now watched. He was surprised at how relatively normal it appeared, regular traffic flowing through with no irregular hurry. The two bored looking SP officers sat in the booth, watching the traffic with dull eyes. He had only worked the booth a handful of times, but it had always been a terribly boring shift. He watched for awhile, making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. He had expected full lock down, with squads of officers searching everyone entering and exiting, searching for Hilda. Apparently the search - if there even was a search - was less dramatic as all that. He started walking towards the gate but then stopped, a thought occuring.

What if it’s a trap, and they want you to let your guard down? Walk right in so they can get you like a fish in a barrel.

He nodded slowly. That could make sense. Lull him into a false sense of security then pounce. He snuck back into the denser foliage and started the walking around the perimeter of the forest. Maybe there was nothing to worry about, but a little caution never hurt. Commander Gerda had mentioned being short staffed on his old section of the wall so he made his way that direction. Hopefully they didn’t have enough people to watch every inch of the wall 24/7. He walked for half an hour or so, periodically walking to the edge of the forest to see if anyone was watching from the wall. It was hard to tell without getting closer, but it seemed like nobody was looking. He eventually reached his old section, on the eastern edge. The forest grew closer to the wall in this area for whatever reason, only 30 or 40 yards away from each other. He forced himself to watch the wall until he was sure nobody was up there. After what felt like hours, he still hadn’t seen any movement.

He shrugged to himself and stepped out of the shadows. No alarms rang out, nobody shouting from an unseen ambush. He walked towards the wall, still scanning the top of the wall. Every step he was sure somebody would pop out of and start attacking him or something, but the walk was uneventful. He eventually reached the small service door in the wall, and tried the handle. It was locked. He tried it again, feeling a bit of dread start to build. The door wouldn’t budge, defiantly locked. He gave a sigh, turning to head back towards the main gate. Maybe he could sneak in? Hide in the back of a truck or something. He felt a surge in the bad luck he was storing as it spiked suddenly. It wasn’t enough to make him let go, but it did bring itself to his attention. He shoved it back down, continuing on his way, but then a thought struck him.

“I wonder…” He said aloud, turning to look back at the door. He jogged back over, studying it again. Cautiously, he let out just a smidge of the bad luck. He let out more then he intended, the energy trying to rush out of him like a river being released. With effort he closed it off again, and tried the door. Nothing, still locked. He heard a slight scrapping from above and looked up just in time to see a stone the size of his head dislodge from high up the wall and fall straight towards him. He sprang back, and the chunk of wall landed with a dull thud in the soft soil he had been standing in moments earlier.

“I guess it would be too much to ask for this to work for me.” He kicked the stone softly. He looked in the direction of the front gate, considering whether or not he should start heading back. He looked back at the door, and felt stubborn. He still had a bit of energy left, so he tried again. This time, he put his hands on the door, and focused on it as hard as he could. He pushed everything else from his mind, and released everything else he had. Nothing happened. He quickly stepped back from the wall, fearing another stone. He looked up at the wall, but nothing else loosened up. He walked back to the door, trying the handle again. It remained locked, but this time when he tried to turn it, he felt a little play in the mechanism. He rocked it back and forth, and up and down and found that it loosened even further. He spent a few minutes rattling the door handle back and forth. The knob got looser and looser, until without warning, the handle popped right off. He heard a clunk as the handle on the other side of the door presumably fell to the floor. He looked at the door knob he still held with a mix of incredulity and acceptance.

This is just my life now, and I expect it’s only going to get stranger.

He pushed the door open slightly, peering in cautiously. He half expected a team waiting for him on the other side, guns drawn ready to take him in. The room was empty, however. He pushed the door open all the way, letting daylight into the otherwise dark room. It was mostly as he remembered, dark and dusty, pungent with the smell of old wood. He stepped in, pulling the old door closed behind him with a dull clunk, plunging the room into relative darkness. He could see light coming from cracks around the trap door above, but nowhere near enough to light the room. In shuffled forward in the dark, until he found the door opposite the one he had come in through. With little difficulty he opened it, and stepped out into a familiar clearing. His home for the past decade sat a few yards away. The flowers in his window boxes were already starting to wilt, and by the looks of things nobody had stopped by since he had left. He pointedly turned away from the cozy cottage.

That chapter of his life was over, sitting here reminiscing would do no good. He struck off towards the town, still on the lookout for any patrols. He pulled his hood up as he walked, trying to disguise himself best he could. He reached the suburbs sometime later, feeling a bit underwhelmed. No patrols, no wanted posters. He walked down the streets, with his hood up, trying to be inconspicuous. But why even bother? He was probably drawing more looks with his hood up on the beautiful morning, so he put it back down. It didn’t seem like anyone was looking for him - or more importantly, Hilda. He was still playing it safe, just in case, but at this point he was pretty confident nobody was hunting for them. He had assumed the witches would have alerted the authorities to Hilda’s… condition, and they entire city would have been on high alert. Now that he really thought about it though, that wouldn’t work very well in reality. For one thing, the witches couldn’t prove any claims they might make. Hilda hadn’t dropped whatever magic she had been using to appear normal while they were looking, so it was just their suspicion. The witches word against his and Hilda’s. Luckily, the the witches weren’t exactly held in high regards by the rest of the population. That didn’t mean it was safe though, the witches would defiantly still be looking. It was a big city though, and what would they do to Hilda if they found her? Surely they wouldn’t just kidnap her. Or maybe they would do just that. He still wasn’t sure why they wanted her in the first place. That question had been haunting him for the past few days. He was sure it had something to do with her… condition.

“Hmm.” He scoffed to himself as he walked. “Condition.”

It wasn’t some disease that could be cured, or even a curse like he carried. There was no healing process, it wouldn’t change. This was just how it was, the sooner he accepted it, the better. It was hard though. He could only imagine how hard it was for Hilda. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad for her, since he had been raised on stories where dragons were evil tyrants, destroying villages and killing the inhabitants for little to no reason. And the Drekamaður stories were even worse. Tales of monsters with no souls, who looked like loved ones. They would act like the person you knew, just waiting for an opportunity to stab you in the back. Disconcerting to say the least. He trusted woodman though, he forcibly reminded himself of that. He had met the dragon, and he was still kicking. Clearly the stories weren’t all true. He reached the edge of the forest, and he looked out onto the city. It was well past morning, nearly noon now. He needed a plan. His only goal so far had been to get to the city, he had assumed that he wouldn’t need to get closer then the gates to tell that they couldn’t come back.

But that of course, wasn’t the case. He started into the city proper, passing bustling shop goers and workers. From the scattered bits of conversation he overheard he gathered there had been some sort of impromptu festival yesterday, which was good. Hopefully the city had loosened up a bit. He also didn’t hear anyone talk about a Drekamaður sighting, though he did overhear someone mention a strange creature they had seen on their way to work. He didn’t see any wanted posters hanging, or witches at every corner. Despite all of that though, he was suspicious. Maybe he was just paranoid, but he couldn’t shake the worry that there might be secret searches going on. But if they were secret, how would he find out about them? A pair of SP officers passed him, and he tried not to draw attention, but they were too focused on their conversation to notice him. He breathed a sight of relief as he passed them, but then an idea struck him. The safety patrol, or more specifically, Gerda! She was the key to this problem.

Everything that happened in the city would be reported, and those reports eventually made their way to Gerda. Any report of a 'demonic child monster thing' attacking the library would surely be in her office. Additionally, any request for a search of the city for said demonic child monster would be there too. If he could get into her office, he could find out for sure if there was a search going on for Hilda - secret or otherwise. The only problem now was getting in. The security patrol building down town wasn’t heavily guarded - few things were in Trollberg - but it wasn’t defenseless. Security systems, and at least few night shift workers were doubtlessly in the building. Gerda herself might be in the office, she basically lived in that room these days. Could he create a distraction of some sort? Probably not, at least not one big enough to get Gerda out of the office. He could break in pretty easily. If he stopped at his old cottage, the set of bell keeper keys were doubtlessly still sitting were he had left them. He could slip in through the back door, avoid the night shift workers, and get to the office. So the only real problem was Gerda herself. Could he call her away? Something that only the commander could deal with? His mind started working on the problem. A large group of people were walking down the street towards him, so he stepped into a alleyway, letting them pass.

The group seemed cheery, and they seemed to be talking about the miraculous return of the Raven. None of them mentioned how strange it was the bird and popped out of the ground, which Harold found odd. Maybe they were just happy things were back to normal, and didn’t question it. He didn’t blame them, no reason to overthink a good thing. He stepped out of the alley and continued down the road, no real destination in mind. He could start heading back towards the cottage to grab his supplies, but there was no rush. He wasn’t going to break in until nightfall anyway, so there was no rush. He meandered through the streets, his mind trying to think of a solution. He most of the last of his money on a meal from a street vendor, contentedly munching on a burrito as he walked. He continued through the market, watching shopkeepers haggle with customers. The place seemed more lively then usual, but maybe it was just his imagination.

He walked through the stalls, heading for the docks. It would be nice to sit and watch the waves. Unfortunately, the entrance to the docks was packed with fishermen bringing in the daily catch. He sighed, and turned to go to a different market exit - one that let out back into the city. He could find another way down to the docks. He had almost made it out of the market, but at one of the last booths a women stood talking to the owner. This wasn’t unusual of course, he had seen dozens of people talking. But it was Johanna. Flanking her on either side was a deer fox, and - even stranger somehow - a nisse. None of them so much as glanced his direction, but that didn’t stop him from sweating. He quickly pulled his hood and, and looked around for somewhere to hide, but he couldn’t see anything. He turned around to try and go back, but the fishermen before had followed him, and brought a crowed of customers with them. There was no way he was getting through that. The only way out was to walk right past her. Barely ten feet separating them. There were few things he wanted to do less, but there was nothing else to do. He took a deep breath, and crossed to the other side of the market, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Luckily, Johanna was pretty focused on what she was doing.

“Well would you please take a flyer? My phone number is on there, if you hear anything.” She was saying. The man accepted the flyer, with a look of sympathy.

“Of course, of course!” The man gave a hardy laugh, obviously trying to cheer her up.

“That rascal, I’m sure Hilda will turn up in no time.” His smile waned when Johanna didn’t return it, and he chuckled awkwardly. She just thanked the man, then walked to the next stall in line. She looked haggard, and he could tell she hadn’t slept well in days. It was strange being this close to her. Trollberg wasn’t a large city, but he had been able to avoid her pretty well over the years. The closest had been that fateful afternoon after the tower collapsing had almost killed Hilda, and even then, he had only seen her at a distance. They were close enough now, he could see how the years had changed her. He still thought she was beautiful despite the years, despite the worry on her face. He wanted to walk over and tell her everything would be alright, that Hilda was safe and would be home soon. He even found himself unconsciously walking diagonally towards her. He couldn’t though. For one, she would be sure to raise hell at his sudden appearance from ‘beyond the grave’.

And for another, he still didn’t know that everything would be ok. He couldn’t say that Hilda would come back. He couldn’t do anything for her. He forced himself to walk out of the market, and had to force himself to not turn back. He would deal with that mess when the time came, for now he had to focus. He started back towards his cottage, he had grown bored of the city. The issue of Gerda might not even be a problem, assuming he went in late enough. Gerda was known to work late, but she almost never worked the entire night. If he went sometime in the early morning, say 4 or 5 AM, the odds were pretty low that she’d been in. If she was, then he could worry about a distraction. It wasn’t a great plan - it wasn’t a plan at all really - but it gave him a bit of confidence boost as he made his way out of the city.

Harold glanced at his watch. 4:13 AM. He looked up from his vantage point, on the roof of an apartment complex across from the SP building. No lights were on, and the place looked abandoned. He knew from experience that there would be two, maybe three people working in there despite the late hour, but they would be working in the offices, and wouldn’t be wandering the building randomly. He had watched for the last two hours, and hadn’t seen anyone enter or exit. Gerda could still be in there, or she could have left before he arrived. He thought about waiting longer, but if Gerda had left on time, then she might actually arrive soon to start the day. He decided he had waited long enough, and made his way to the fire escape. Normally he wouldn’t have been able to use it to get up, but the buildings dumpster had been placed close enough for him to jump up the lowest level. He made his back down quickly and quietly. Once he was back on the street, he glanced both ways, making sure he was still alone.

Once satisfiesed, he crossed the street, sticking to the shadows and avoiding the street lamps as best he could. He skirted the exterior of the building, ignoring the main entrance. He reached the side door, and pulled out his ID card. He inserted it into the reader. It had only been a few days since he quit, hopefully they hadn’t erased him from the system yet. A quiet click met his ears as the door unlocked. He couldn’t help but smile, as he put the card back into his pocket. He pushed the door open slowly, and stepped into the dark hall. The stairs were close by, and he didn’t encounter anyone on the ground floor. He started up, noting that some lights were on, coming through the door of the second and third floor. Luckily he was going to the fourth, the floor Gerda’s office was on. He reached the fourth floor, and exited the stairwell into a long hallway. Gerda’s office was at the end, and to his dismay, he saw that a light was on in one of the other offices in the middle of the hallway. He snuck forward silently, creeping through the hall until he reached the open door. Very carefully he peeked around, and then gave a sigh when he saw an older man with his head on his hands, snoring softly. He quickly passed the sleeping man, and reached the door to Gerda’s office. No light came from under the door, which was good. He listened at the door for a moment, but didn’t hear anything.

So far so good.

He opened the door with a soft squeak from the hinges. It was empty. He clicked on his flash light, and shut the door behind him. He walked to the desk, looking for any reports. He searched for a moment before finding two stacks of reports sitting right in front of the chair.

“Jackpot.”

He muttered, as he quickly leafed through the first - and much larger - stack of reports. Most of it was just run of the mill stuff. Parking ticket complaints, the odd theft report, noise complaints. He moved on to the next pile, this one smaller. Something caught his eye almost immediately. It was a report of a strange creature appearing in the city forest. Several eye witnesses reported it appearing out of thin air, then taking off into the forest. That wouldn’t be that out of the ordinary on it’s own - it was Trollberg after all - but there were four more reports of similar events taking place, all around the same time. Two more in various parts of the forest, one by the docks, and one in the suburb. They all stated the creature appearing out of thin air, then taking off and not seen again. Strangely, none of them had more then a handful of eye witnesses, despite the amount of people in the areas. Had they just been extremely stealthy? Or maybe they were vanishing again. Was this just another nowhere-space traveling dog, like the one a few years ago? But no, the creatures were described as formless, with upwards of six legs and no discernible faces. That could just be eye witness dramatization though, most eye witness exaggerated events when retelling - usually subconsciously. It was strange though. Did it have anything to do with Hilda? He couldn’t think of a connection, but it did seem like a stretch to call it a coincidence. Further thoughts on the subject were abandoned as the door suddenly flew open. A flashlight shone at him, and a strong voice shouted at him.

“Freeze!”

Harold did just that, putting his hands up to block the bright beam shining right in his face. What should he do? This was the second floor, but he could probably survive a jump out of the window if he rolled. A quiet curse came from the figure, and they turned the flashlight beam down, and flicked on the lights, revealing a very upset looking Gerda.

“Harold, what THE HELL do you think you are doing?” There was red in her cheeks, as she absently tucked the flashlight back into it’s holster on her belt. Harold just stared dumbly, franticly trying to think of a solid excuse.

“I, uh - I mean, well -”

“Sit down!” She barked, interrupting him. Gerda slammed the door behind her, and stalked over to her chair. She at, and put her head in her hands breathing deeply. She muttered something in another language, though from the tone and context Harold assumed it was some sort of curse regarding his entire bloodline. She looked back up, straightening her hair with one hand. Harold sat hastily, still clutching the report in his hand. They stared at each other for a moment, Harold remembering all to well the last time they had sat like this.

“I’m speechless Harold.” Gerda finally said, shaking her head as if disappointed. Her voice was cool, her composure once again regained.

“You leave with no warning or explanation - when we needed all the help we could get I might add.” She looked at him pointedly, but he remained silent.

“Ahh yes, the classic Harold silence. What else should I expect from you? All the years I’ve known you, I never - never - would have expected this kind of behavior.”

He remained silent, it seemed his best defense.

She threw up her hands in frustration.

“And now you come back, in the dead of the night, for what? Petty theft?”

Harold glanced at the paper he still had in his head, and held it out to her sheepishly.

“Uh, no. No ma’am. I’m not here to steal.”

Gerda snatched the paper from him with a huff, she glanced at it, then set it back on the stack. She turned back towards him, then co*cked her head, looking back at the paper. She hastily picked it back up, and looked it over. She muttered something to herself, then looked back at up him. The anger bled away from her face, replaced by a strange look he couldn’t quite place. She looked like a TV detective that had just found a clue, but wasn’t quite sure how it fit into the mystery. She set the report back down on the stack, idly tapping them back into a neat pile.

“What does Hilda have to do with this?” She asked, sounding suspicious. Harold - who had been nervously fidgeting - froze. There shouldn’t be anyway Gerda could connect Hilda to him, and especially no way she could connect Hilda to the strange events of the last week.

“Who?” He asked, trying very hard to sound genuine.

Gerda gave him a flat look - not an ordinary flat. This one was special. As commander of the SP, Gerda was a master when it came to looks, and this one proved it. Flatter then glass, flatter then machined metal. Under that gaze Harold felt himself wilting, like a flower left out in the desert sun.

“I saw the picture, I know she’s your daughter.” She said, her voice cool.

“Oh…” Was all Harold could manage. He wanted to sink through the chair into the floor under her gaze, but the chair remained frustratingly solid.

“So I ask you again, what does she have to do with these… creatures appearing everywhere?”

“Uh…as far as I know, nothing.” He said, trying to sound confused.

“Oh?” Gerda said raising an eyebrow sarcastically. She pulled a folded paper out of her coat pocket, unfolding it and thrusting it in front of his face.

“So I guess it was some other girl named Hilda with blue hair that the council of three want me to start an all out man hunt for?”

He snatched it from her, reading it hastily. With each line he felt his heart sink further. It was crime report form, filled out by Aurelia. She claimed in the report that Hilda (and an unnamed middle aged man) had broken into their private property and caused all sorts of havoc. They claimed that the damage they had caused had broken some sort of ancient seal, letting these creatures through. The next section was what really took his attention however. They wanted - no, they demanded a search for Hilda, and for her to be turned over to the council for ‘reparations’.

It was just as he had feared. He felt the color drain out of his face.

“You can’t let them get her!” He said frantically. “Please Gerda, you can’t approve this request!”

“Calm down Harold.” Gerda said. “I’m not going to. Sit back down please.”

Harold let out a deep breath, and sank back into the chair.

“Thank you.” He muttered.

“Don’t thank me yet. I can’t help but notice you didn’t contest their claims. Why did you break into the witches tower of all places?”

Harold sat up straight. “You knew the witches tower was down there?”

Gerda just rolled her eyes. “Of course I know, I am the closest thing this city has to a leader after all. You really think they are just completely outside of the law?”

“They sure act like they are.” Harold grumbled.

“You have no idea.” Gerda said with a solemn nod. “But again, why did you break in?”

“We didn’t break in, we were invited. It’s a bit of a long story, but we had reason to believe they could help us out with some problems. It started out all right, but then they started attacking Hilda for no reason! I intervened, and we left.”

It wasn’t the full truth - actually, it was a flat out lie. But he couldn’t tell Gerda that Hilda was a Drekamaður, she would doubtlessly side with the witches in that case. He could tell from Gerda’s expression that she didn’t fully believe him. He had always been a terrible lier, but she didn’t press further.

“Where is Hilda?” She asked, instead. “Her poor mother has been in my office twice a day for the past week. The only reason I don’t have a dedicated search party out is because I literally don’t have any to assign the task.”

“She’s fine. She’s a couple miles away, staying with a… family friend. We weren’t sure if it was safe for her to come back, with the witches and all. That’s why I’m here, actually. To make sure it’s safe to bring her back.”

Gerda nodded slowly, and this time she did seem to believe him, which was good seeing as that part was completely truthful.

“You didn’t, ah, mention me to… Johanna, did you?” Harold asked after a moment.

Gerda scowled. “No, I didn’t.”

Harold relaxed. “Oh, thank you.”

“I didn’t do it for you.” Gerda snapped. “When the subject of Hilda’s father was brought up, Johanna told me her husband Harold had been dead for over a decade!”

Harold wilted.

“I didn’t ‘mention it’ to her, because I knew what hell she would raise if she found you.” Gerda’s eyes bored into his forehead, but he couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Can I go?” He finally asked. Gerda was silent for awhile, and she seemed to genuinely consider arresting him.

“Yes, you can go.” She finally said. “But -” She said, raising a finger before he got out his chair all the way.

“I have three conditions.”

Harold sat back down. Gerda leaned in, starring at him with unblinking eyes.

“First, you will go get Hilda, and bring her here to talk with me.”

“But the witches-” Harold began.

“I will deal with the witches. She will be safe.” Gerda said, still not taking her eyes off of him.

“Fine.” Harold said, after thinking it over for a moment. It seemed harmless enough.

“Second. You will go talk to Johanna.” She didn’t need to explain it any further, they both knew what it meant. Harold cringed internally, but nodded.

“And third, you will report back here to me and get back to work.” Gerda said, finally leaning back.

Harold was a bit taken aback. He knew she was short staffed, but was she really desperate to bring him back?

“Are you sure you want me back?” He asked cautiously.

“You are one of the best officers this city has, personal life excluded.” Gerda responded, cooly.

Harold just shrugged, and put his hand out.

“I accept.”

Gerda shook it with a smile.

“Good. Now, get out of my office.”

Harold stood, and walked to the door. He opened it, but turned before walking out. He wanted to thank Gerda, but the words died in his mouth. They seemed meaningless from him. Instead he just gave her a salute, then walked out.

Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Why do I find blue dragons so fascinating? Well, unlike every other color of Dragon, the blues do not seem to have a set ofabilities or ideals that connect their members. You might argue with me saying that blue Dragons are known to be great healers. I’m not sure where this idea came from, because from everything I could find, only one of the blue Dragons was a healer - albeit a great one. I blame this seemingly incoherence on the simple fact that there just aren’t enough blue Dragons to say for certain what they can - and cannot - do. Indeed, according to every available record, there have only ever been six blue dragons - which I willbriefly list. Why? Well, my dearest reader, it is simple.Because this is my book, and I shall do whatever I want with it. If you find this disagreeable, please writeyourown. I would love to read it.

Krekillian, The first blue dragon, who died nearly 2,000 years ago. As you might imagine, historical information - or evencampfire stories - about him are virtually nonexistent, though from what I’ve found he was very good friends with the ancient giants*. A mostinterning story even claimed that he took a turn watching the sky from the height of the tallest mountain in the world. If the story is to be believed, thenthat would make him the only non-giant to ever do so.

Kakanna, The all seeing, who died only a few hundred years after Krekillian, and believed to be nearly as old. Reportedly, she was a seer of unparalleled skill, and is probably the reason the blues were sometimes considered to be gifted fortune tellers, though I must again impress upon you howlittle we truly know about the blues. And unlike the white Dragons (who as you may know, read the movement of the stars and moon to scry the future), I cannot find any mention of how she discerned the future, otherthanone text speaking of a variety of rare crystal. I have not been able to verifythis, however.

Ketkersa, the lost. The third blue Dragons’ existence is often disputed, many believe him to benothing more than a myth. I dispute this,because of a single - and extremelyinteresting - mention of him in a brief passage from a book detailing the first great dragon war. Theoriginalbook has long since been lost, though most of it's contents were copied as reference material in other texts. Some dodisputethe accuracy of the copies, though I have it on good authority that it was donecorrectly. The passageitself is quite boring, and It does little more than mention Ketkersa byname, and to claim that he was very skilled in magic. What kind of magic, it did not say.

*If you would like to learn more of theancient giants, you may want to pick up a copy of my latest book: 'The giants of old',available in Drekamaðurfriendly bookstores everywhere.

-From ‘Jéspiat’s guide to life as a Drekamaður’, page 45 paragraph’s 2-6

Despite everything, the walk had been pleasant so far. The sun was blazing down on them with furry, but a cool breeze blowing off the nearby mountain range kept everything the perfect temperature. They were walking cross country, through a field of waist high grass, blowing lazily in the wind. David breathed in deeply, enjoying the smell of late spring. Earthy, fresh, and blossoming. Patches of wildflowers dotted the field around them, and David wished he could stop and just enjoy this place. Unfortunately, they were still on a mission. He tried not to think about the destination too much, though the closer they got the more he felt like it would end up being some dark cave that no person in their right mind would ever want to enter.

In other words, the perfect place to look for Hilda.

He let out a sigh, and tried to focus on other things. He started running lines in his head again, despite the fact he had already memorized them all. His part in the upcoming play wasn’t as big as some he’d done in the past, but he was still in a half dozen scenes, all with some dialogue. Up ahead, Frida walked, her head constantly down in her map. She was trying to predict where they were going, but as far as David could tell, there wasn’t anything out here. Trevor skulked behind, walking with hands in pockets, though even he seemed to be in a bit of a better mood. Which in his case simply meant his didn’t perpetually have a scowl on.

They had been walking for the better part of two hours now, and Frida thought they were about halfway there. It had mostly been forest, with some small hills and few creeks they had been able to cross without trouble. Looking at the sun, that should give them plenty of time to find Hilda, and get back to the city before dark. Assuming whatever Hilda was wrapped up in wouldn’t take too much longer. David knew that was a big assumption, but he remained hopeful. They reached the edge of the field, where the tree line met grass. Frida put her palm up, checking the magic compass again. She checked it every few minutes to make sure they didn’t get off track. It pointed slightly to their left, and luckily it looked like there was small game trail leading that direction they could follow, for now at least. Before entering the foiliage, Frida rummaged in her bag for a moment, before pulling out two apples. She tossed one to Trevor - who had caught up by now - and one to David.

“Thanks!” David said, taking a large bite of the lumpy green apple.

Trevor muttered something that might have been a ‘thank you’, but David couldn’t be sure. Frida grabbed an apple for herself as well, then they started down the trail, with Frida leading. David munched on the apple, savoring each bite. They had forgone lunch, wanting to leave Trollberg as quickly as possible. And because of David's late start that morning, he had also missed breakfast, so he was starving. Practically before he knew it, the apple was gone. He tossed the core into the bushes, and licked the remaining juice off his fingers, wishing he had another one. Or a granola bar. Or some of his dad's homemade pancakes.

“What does this trail remind you of David?” Frida suddenly asked from ahead. David jumped slightly, waking from his pancake filled daydream.

“Oh uh…” He looked around. It was a nice trail, with dense forest on either side. Thick grass covered the forest floor, except for the loamy areas right around the base of each tree. Something about it did tug on his mind.

“Oh! That time we went out to the screaming stones!”

“Yep. This place is just like the start of the trail.” Frida said, pointing to the trees on either side. It really was reminiscent of that old trail. It was almost uncanny, but then again they were probably only a few miles away from that trail.

“Screaming stones?” Trevor asked from behind.

“Oh, it’s a rock pile that people say make screaming sounds at night. But it’s actually a group of warriors locked in eternal combat, killing each other night after night but being revived each morning.” Frida said, looking over her shoulder.

"Or at least, they did."

“They’re great.” David said, remembering the night with fondness. He wouldn’t ever want the amulet back, but the feeling of fearlessness he had felt was tempting sometimes.

“Very friendly people once you get to know them. They made me an honorary member, after I got my head cut off.” Trevor stopped in place on the trail, and David couldn’t help smiling. He hadn’t told many people the story, but he always loved the reactions.

“Is there more to that story, or just…?” Trevor asked, jogging to catch back up.

“I guess you could say there’s a story.” Frida said with a laugh, looking over her shoulder again.

She started telling the story, David cutting in occasionally when she forgot something. It actually pretty nice. Trevor laughed a few times, and genuinely seemed to be interested in the story. Maybe getting away from the city was good for him. He’d only said a few negative things all afternoon. Or maybe he was just in a good mood. David still couldn’t fathom why he came out here. The story finished, and they fell into a pleasant silence. Eventually David started hearing rushing water, and soon after they found themselves at the bank of a large stream. Frida opened her palm, and the glowing needle pointed straight across. It seemed to be pretty shallow, and there were plenty of stones that they could jump on to avoid getting their feet wet.

“Race you to the other side!” Frida said, with a devious smile, before jumping to the first stone. David let out a laugh, and jumped after her. They jumped from stone to stone, Frida taking one path, and David taking another, laughing as they nearly feel in, getting their feet wet. Suddenly Trevor sloshed past, completely forgoing the stones in favor of just running through the stream.

“Hey that’s cheating!” David said, with a laugh. Trevors only response was a rude gesture over his shoulder. David just rolled his eyes, but chased after. David was quick, but Trevor was already climbing out on the other side. Frida stopped on a stone, her shoe having come untied. He went around her, and was only a few stones away when he noticed that Trevor had a strange look on his face, and he kept looking around nervously.

“What’s wrong?” David asked, as he jumped from the last stone. As soon as his foot touched the dirt, a horrible feeling of unease fell on him. He stood stunned, for just a moment, before looking around frantically. It felt like he was being watched from every direction. Something bad was going to happen, he just knew it. The sun was still shining, and the breeze was still cool, but things somehow seemed more grey then they had before, and the breeze was chilly now, making him shiver as he stood there, looking into the forest.

“You feel it too?” Trevor asked, in a hissing whisper.

David just nodded, not trusting his voice. They both kept looking around at the trees, hoping to spot whatever was causing this strange feeling. Frida finally joined them, and as she landed on the shore, she looked like a cat that had fallen into a bath tub. David would have found it funny, if he didn't feel the same.

"I don't like this at all." Frida muttered. Then looking back she said“Stay close.”

She pulled her wand out of her bag, and a few small vials of ingredients. Frida handed him the vials.

"Hang on to these for me, but don't use them unless I tell you."

David wasn't even sure how to use them, but he put them safely in his pocket all the same. Frida put the wand in her off hand, and made the compass reaper. It pointed dead ahead and she started marching forward with a determined gait. David glanced at Trevor, and saw him looking after her with a nervous expression. He noticed David looking over, and hastily turned the nervous frown into a sneer, before taking off after Frida. David ran to catch up, not wanting to be left alone. There wasn’t a trail to follow this time, but luckily the foliage wasn’t as thick, so they could move without too much issue. They walked in silence, though not a content silence like before. This was a nervous silence. After a few minutes David realized that it wasn’t just them.

No birds chipped over ahead, no small animals darting through the underbrush, and no insects buzzing. He gulped, but didn’t say anything. Frida checked the compass every few seconds, and David guessed she was feeling as nervous as he was. David took to watching the trees along side of them as they walked. He had never noticed just how creepy the forest was before. Anything could be hiding behind those trees, just waiting for the opportune moment. He smacked into the back of Trevor, who had pulled up short. He glared down at David, and he mouthed an apology. Frida was looking at something on the ground in front of them, which was the reason Trevor had stopped. Frida turned back to look at them, which let David see what the thing was. A set of foot prints, or rather, a boot prints.

“Large foot.” Frida muttered, crouching down examine it. “Defiantly an adult. A large man, if I had to guess. He was on the run, judging by how far apart the prints are.”

“What was chasing him?” Trevor asked quietly. Nobody had an answer, though they had all been thinking of it.

Frida stood, and brought out the magic compass again. It pointed in the direction the footprints lead. They all let out a collective sigh, but continued forward. They found more signs of someone running. Recently broken bush stems, flattened grass, and some bits of cloth stuck to a thorn bush. They went further. A few more footsteps, then, strangely, a granola bar. They all looked at it, confused. A few steps further, they found a canteen, then a crumpled map and compass. A fire starting kit was a few paces after that, followed by a pocket-poncho. After that they found a back pack lying next to a tree, with a few more various items scattered around. It had been cut about halfway up, which had let some of the contents spill out as the man ran, David guessed. One of the straps had apparently broken, causing the pack to finally fall. Frida rummaged through the rest of the bag, probably looking for some sort of clue. David walked back. little ways, gathering up the rest of the items. When he got back, Frida was fingering the cut in the bag.“What could cut through thick canvas like that?” Frida asked, though she didn't direct the question at anybody. More so just thinking out loud.

“I don’t think a knife could, not without some serious effort at least. Trevor said, kneeling down to inspect it with Frida. He suddenly grabbed the bag from her, and dumped the remaining contents onto the ground.

Frida glared at him, but didn’t say anything as he dug around the scattered items. There wasn’tanything interesting that David could see, just more supplies much like the ones Frida wascarrying. Frida picked something shiny out of the pile that David couldn’t quite see. She looked itover for a moment, with a confused expression.

“Harold Wildsen”

She read, turning the thing to show David and Trevor. It was a safety patrol badge. Specifically, a bell keepers badge.

“What was a Bell keeper doing out here?” David asked, taking the badge in hand and squinting at the rank and insignia symbols around the badge.

“How do you know it’s a bell keeper?” Trevor asked.

His voice was snarky as usual, like he was challenging him somehow. David pointed at the small bell symbol underneath the Safety patrol logo.

“This right here.” He indicated the row of lines next to it.

“That’s his rank. I think that means he was a senior patrol officer.”

He whistled softly, the creepy setting around him momentarily forgotten. Trevor took the badge from him and squinted at it, as if trying to discern the meaning for himself.

“It’s strange though, I’ve never heard of a bell keeper being a senior patrol officer. I didn’t know bell keepers could be SPO’s honestly. There’s only a handful of them across the entire city, and they are usually in charge of a certain district.”

“How do you know all this?” Trevor asked, tossing the badge back onto the ground next to theother things.

“It’s all my mom ever talks about, now that she’s part of the force.” David said with a sigh.

He had really hoped she wouldn’t continue on with the safety patrol after she had volunteered during the troll crisis, but instead she went and officially signed up after it was all over.

“Hmmph” Trevor grunted, but didn’t say anything further. Frida started putting the things back in the bag, using the small front pocket that didn’t have a hole in it. She handed the bag to Trevor since he wasn’t currently carrying anything. They both stood. Frida opened her palm, showing the compass and they continued walking. Less then a minute however, Frida stopped again.

What now?

David thought, poking his head around to see what she had found. It was a flashlight, lying at the base of a large pine tree, beam still weakly shining in the bright sunlight. The tree had a large gash in it, at about chest height. It looked like someone had started cutting it down, but given up part way through. There was a dark liquid oozing out of the tree. He wasn’t sure what it was or where it was coming from, and it looked like it had been splashed on the tree somehow, instead of coming out of it. They crowded around, no one saying anything. The fluid was pitch black, with an oily sheen shimmering on the surface when the light shined on it the right way. It was thick, barely moving in the gash in the wood. Trevor reached a finger out, but Frida slapped it back down with a stern look. He just rolled his eyes but put his hand back down. Frida grabbed a small twig off the ground, and used that to scoop up a bit of the tar like stuff, and held it in front of herself.

“Does this you stuff remind you of that thing this morning? After it got hit by the car, I mean.”

David studied it. It did kind of look like the crud that had gone everywhere, except this wasn't letting off golden smoke. And it wasn't evaporating either.

“It does look the same… But all of the stuff from earlier didn’t stick around.”

Frida just shrugged. “Maybe whatever left it behind isn’t dead.” She said slowly. David gulped. He had no desire to ever see another one of… whatever these were.

“Look.” Trevor said, pointing beside them. “There’s a trail of the stuff.”

Turning, David saw he was correct. Small drips of oily goo were visible in the grass every few feet, leading further into the forest. They walked down the trail of goo drips for a few feet. Trevor co*cked his head, and reached down pulling something from the grass. It turned out to be a large pocket knife, the blade coated in a layer of the tar. Trevor held it gingerly by the handle.

“Looks like ‘Harold’ didn’t go down without a fight. This black stuff must be some kind of blood.” He then wiped the blade on the leg of his pants, leaving a nasty black stain on his blue jeans. Frida clicked her tongue, obviously concerned that the goo might be toxic, but David mostly just felt nervous about Trevor having a knife.

“So I guess we just follow the trail?” David asked, already knowing the answer. Hilda would be in the middle of this, she always was. Frida opened her palm, and sure enough the needle pointed right down the trail.

“That can’t be right.” She said, an eyebrow shooting up. She closed her palm and opened it again. Then again. And again. She seemed more frustrated with each result. The needle pointed resolutely down the path.

“It was pointed almost directly east the last time I checked.” She said shaking her head.

“So?” Trevor asked in a bored voice. “She’s probably on the move. Maybe she turned into a monster again.”

David did his best to ignore him, and Frida didn’t appear to be listening. She walked back the way they had come for a few yards, until she reached the spot they had found the bag. She opened her palm again, and it was pointing a different direction - almost directly east. She walked forwards a few steps and the needle suddenly flipped, pointing in the other direction. She took a step back and the needle flipped back to pointing east. She walked back over, her arms folded.

“Somethings wrong with it. I’m not sure what.” She looked down the path of tar, an unreadable expression on her face.

“So we’re lost?” David said, only panicking a little.

“Well, no. I mean, we can still get back to Trollberg - so we aren't lost.” Frida said with a sigh. “I just don’t know which way to go.”

“What do you mean?” Trevor said, his voice angry.

“What I mean -” Frida said, her own voice growing annoyed. “Is that there are two different directions the compass is trying to take us, and I don’t know which one is right.”

“How can you not know! You’re a witch!” Trevor shouted back.

“A witch in training!” Frida shouted back. “And from everything I know this shouldn’t be possible! A finding spell leads you to the thing or person you’re trying to find, and thats it. So unless there’s a second Hilda running around out here, I have no idea what the problem is! And I can't try and fix it because we're far enough away from Trollberg, that my magic is very limited!

David raised an eyebrow at that. He'd never known that magic didn't work as well outside of Trollberg, but then again there was still a lot he didn't know about magic.

“Well if you didn’t know how it worked, why did you lead us out here?” Trevor said, his face going red.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be shouting?” David said, painfully aware how far their voices would carry, and even more aware of the mystery creature that was lurking somewhere out there, maybe nearby. They both ignored him and continued yelling at each other.

“I do know how it works, it’s just not working right now!” Frida retorted.

“How is that any different?” Trevor yelled back, throwing his hands into the air.

“Well it’s obvious if you aren’t a meat brained idiot!”

David didn’t really see the difference either, but he wasn’t about to take Trevor’s side on this.

“But if I’m doing such a bad job, how about you just leave?” Frida continued. “No one asked you to be here Trevor! You can run back to Trollberg at anytime you like!”

“Oh yeah? Well, maybe I will!” Trevor said it defiantly, but he didn’t show any sign of actually following through with the threat.

“Can you two please keep it down?” David said it louder then he meant, but it did have the desired effect and they both finally shut up.

“Thank you. Now, what are we going to do?” David asked looking at each in turn. Trevor just looked away, his cheeks still slightly flushed. Frida shrugged.

“There’s no way to know which one to go to. They feel exactly the same, though the one it’s pointing too now is closer.” She opened her palm as she spoke, as of they could feel it too. The needle appeared, and she co*cked her head, a new look on her face.

“Huh. That's strange. It's closer than it was a minute ago." Her eyes went wide. "A lot closer, actually. In fact, I think it’s moving towards us -”

A horrible scream cut off whatever else she was going to say. It sounded like a human voice, but far, fartoo loud. It lacked all emotion. No anger, or surprise, or fear or anything. It was like someone was yelling just to make noise. Or someones, it sounded like multiple voices overlapping. It was unsettling, and David felt his face go pale. He heard distant movement, something was crashing through the trees towards them, in the direction the goo lead. Something big.

“Time to go!” Frida said, her eyes even wider. David just nodded, before taking off back the way they had come, Frida and Trevor on his heels. The horrible scream sounded again - closer this time. It was gaining on them.

“What do we do?” David asked in between breaths as they ran.

“We need to find somewhere to hide!” Frida said, running out in front of him. She closed her palm, dropping the compass that she had been running with the whole time for whatever reason.

“Over there!” She said, pointing at a small cleft in a nearby boulder that sat half exposed. A large pine tree sprouted next to it, and the cleft was also covered by some of the lower branches. It didn’t look large, but there might be enough room for the three of them. They changed their course, tearing through a small clearing towards the large boulder. The sun was still shining brightly overhead, but David felt an inescapable chill. They reached the boulder, and David barely glanced at the cleft before jumping in. It was surprisingly roomy inside, but It was still a struggle to get all three of them inside.

They fit, but only just, and David was left sticking up further then he would have liked. He was still safely within the cleft, but he couldn’t help feeling exposed. He had a great view of the clearing though, so he had no trouble seeing the nightmarish monster as it ran out of the trees. It was spider like, with a bulbous body and several long thin legs all around it. A spider the size of an elephant. Like the thing in the alleyway earlier, it didn’t have any sort of visible head of face, but it did seem to be looking at things, and one end of it was clearly the front. It’s back was covered with thin tentacles that waved lazily in the breeze above it, much like the underside of a jellyfish in the ocean.

David’s breath caught as it fully stepped into the sunlight. He had foolishly hoped it would avoid sunlight, like a fairytale monster. From the sounds he had heard while it was chasing them, he expected more jerky brutish behavior, but on the contrary it almost seemed to study the area around itself. It walked incredibly quiet for something so big, again in contrast to the crashing he had heard mere minutes ago. It walked through the clearing, as if it was following some sort of trail. With sudden horror, David noticed an obvious trail of mashed grass they had left behind, that led straight to their hiding spot.

But curiously, it didn’t seem to be following that trail. It stopped about halfway through the clearing as if whatever trail it had been following had suddenly been cut short. It turned around in every direction, and even looked at the boulder - or at least David thought it looked in his direction. It was hard to tell. After a few minutes of searching in vain, it lumbered back the way it had come, still eerily quiet. David didn’t dare make a sound until it had been out of sight for almost a minute. Even then, he tried to keep his breathing as shallow as possible, just in case.

“I think it’s gone.” He whispered back to Frida and Trevor after waiting another full minute.

“Good.” Trevor said, some of his usual bravado missing. He seemed truly shaken up.

“We should go out and check.” Frida said, her voice shaky.

“Yeah…” Trevor agreed. Nobody made any move to exit. They sat like that, David scanning the glade, straining his eyes for any movement until his eyes were sore. No movement. Incredibly, he started feeling bored. He wouldn’t have thought that possible before today. According to Trevors wrist watch they had been sitting in the hole for nearly 10 minutes. Surely that was enough time. Nobody had suggested going out again, but it was the only thing to do. The sun was steadily moving across the sky, and it was already late afternoon. They didn’t have unlimited time unfortunately.

Taking a deep breath, and swelling all the courage he could muster, he started moving out of the crack. He deeply wished Frida would tell him to stay put, or that Trevor might volunteer instead. They didn’t say anything though, so he climbed out fully. There wasn’t anything to be afraid of really. He could see almost the entire clearing, except the rock pile they were hiding in. But they would have heard something if that monster had moved over there. He still made sure to check behind him thoroughly as soon as he got out. He stood up straight, knees only shaking slightly, and a did a full 360 to check for any sign on it. He didn’t see anything, just regular forest - if still unnaturally quiet.

“No sign of it.” He called back into the crack. After a few seconds of grunting - and a few nasty curses in Trevors case - his two companions were standing beside him.

“That was Hilda?” Trevor asked, his voice quiet.

“Oh look who remembers names all of a sudden.” David said folding his arms. He was still bitter about the name calling this morning. Trevor just scoffed and looked to the side.

“No, I don’t think that was Hilda.” Frida said, putting her hand on her chin.

“It’s pretty clear Hilda was the other direction the finding spell pointed. My best guess is that thing - whatever it is - is radiating a lot of magical energy, and when we got close it confused the finding spell. Kind of like when you hold a magnet nearby an actual compass.”

“I guess that makes sense.” David said, giving a small shrug. “But I'm pretty sure Hilda’s involved somehow. That thing looked very similar to the other thing we saw this morning. That can’t be a coincidence.”

Frida nodded in agreement, and Trevor gave a look as if to say ‘I told you so’.

“Well, I think we can all agree to check out the other direction now.” Frida said, hoping down from the rocks. David just nodded, still mulling over what Frida had said. They joined Frida on the ground as she opened her palm. It was still pointing the wrong way.

“It’s still close by I guess.” Her brow furrowed. “Really close by actually. In fact -”

Her eyes went wide, and she turned back, looking up at the large pine tree. David looked up too, and felt his breath catch. Sitting at the top of tree, was the monster. It honestly looked ridicules up there, like something out of a Saturday morning cartoon. It should have been far too big, the branches shouldn’t be able to hold up something that heavy, but it sat as naturally as a squirrel. How had it even climbed up that far? He would have laughed, if not for the circ*mstances. Trevor looked up too, and let out a groan.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding.”

“Shh.” Frida hissed at him, putting a finger to her lips. Then mouthed “Back away slowly.”

They did just that, but David didn’t dare take his eyes off of the monster sitting serenely above. Something told him that this wasn’t a dumb animal. It had some level of intelligence. Maybe it was friendly? He could think of several times he had assumed something was hostile and then turned out to be friendly. The gloomy feeling in the air told him that wasn’t likely. The monster still didn’t have any visible face, but David could feel it watching them.

It almost had an amused air, like a cat watching a mouse try and escape. He tried to rid himself of that image, but it was remarkably stubborn. It started moving, stretching in - again - a cat like way. Lazy, as if it didn’t have a care in the world. Suddenly it sprang off the side of the tree, and fell to the ground in front of them with a loud crash. It was close enough now that David could see his own blurry reflection in the smooth black skin. They stood, regarding each other for just a single frozen moment. It was like time itself stood still. Nothing moving, no-one even so much as breathing. The moment was broken by Trevor.

“Well fu-” A bone shaking scream erupted from the monster, cutting Trevor off. It stopped screaming as suddenly as it had started, and charged towards them, skittering across the ground on it's strange legs. David didn’t even have time to shout before it was on top of them. One of the sinewy legs smacked into him and he went sailing across the glade. He came down hard, and got a mouthful of grass and dirt. He felt slightly dazed, so it took him a moment to get back up, and another moment to spit out the dirt and grass. By the time he was upright and turned around, things had already gone south.

“AHH!” Frida screamed. “Let go of me!”

She was held in the air in front of the monster by some of its thin hair like tentacles. Her arms were pinned to the side, and she was struggling for everything she was worth. Trevor looked like he had been smacked away as well, and was still getting to his feet. The monster started running back the way it had come, Frida still kicking in it’s oily grip.

“Hey! Let her go!” David shouted. It didn’t react, and just kept moving towards the edge of the forest. David started running after, and scooped up a nice baseball sized rock of the ground as he ran. He felt the familiar spike of fear and adrenaline that he so often felt on adventures. It fueled his muscles, and he tore across the glade.

“I said let her go!” He chucked the rock with all his might. It sailed through the air in a beautiful arc, smacking into the side of the monster bulbous body with a wet sounding smack. The monster didn’t stop, or even look at him. It didn’t so much as break stride. It was like he didn’t exist.David starred for just a second, before her started running again, trying to keep up. But this thing was fast. It wasn’t long at all before he had completely lost sight of it, and not long after that he could no longer here the sound of it running - or Frida’s shouts.

David slowed, and put his hands on his thighs and caught his breath. Luckily it left a trail of destruction in it’s wake, would should make it easy to follow. Trevor thumped up beside him a moment later, a few fresh scrapes covering his arms and head. He was holding Frida’s wand, which meant she didn’t have it. Which meant there was almost no chance of her escaping on her own. Which meant it was up to them - and since one of them was Trevor of all people, that meant it was up to him. David.Just David.

How do I keep ending up in messes like this?

He looked up at Trevor, who much like himself was panting. They shared a quick nod, then started running down the trail of broken tree branches and flattened grass.

Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Chapter Text

The order of the last three is often disputed, as they all arrived within a century of each other. I will list them in the way I personally believe to be correct.

Ketkor, The king. The most ‘off color’ of the blue Dragons, Ketkor was a fighter at heart, waging wars on neighboring Reds and Yellows. He didn’t use fear or threats to control his army however, opting instead for devotion. His subjects praised him as a just and worthy leader, and followed him to the ends of the earth. Though I’m not entirely certain when, he died in one of the final battles of the second Dragon war, protecting his kingdom from Rauki’s armies personally.

Ketketh, The sorrowful. Twin brother to Ketkor, and one of his closest advisors. He was an artisan at heart, crafting many intricate machines and weaponry that by all accounts would shame anything made before or since. After Ketkor’s death, Ketketh became reclusive, hiding away from human and Dragon alike. During his years in self imposed exile, he created many enchanted objects, ranging from simple swords that would never break, to an amulet that granted courage in any situation. Most of these were lost to the ages, and live on only in stories.Ketketh died in hiding, and many believe he left behind a treasure trove filled to the brim with his most prized creations.

Kaspakona, The beloved. She is the best known of all blue dragons, and is often called ‘The healer’ or ‘The patron of Orthel’. For many years, she actually lived inside the walls of the city Orthel, before it’s destruction during the second dragon war. This is the only account I can find of a Dragon living inside a human city. Most dragons, even if they ruled a kingdom like Ketkor, would live in isolation, usually several miles away from the city in question. Some accounts claim she was slain in the destruction of Orthel, but there are rumors of a great healer hiding in the mountains near the ruins of Orthel* willing to help any who seek it out. I spent many years trying to find the source of the rumors, and I can say for a fact that a Dragon has nothing to do with them. If Kaspakona didn’t die in Orthel, then she certainly died in the years since.

*The ruins of Orthel are deep within the Troll mountains - though the city existed longbeforethe Trolls. A new village has recently sprung up in the area by thename of 'Trollberg'. The villagers haveexplored the ruinsthoroughly, and arequite knowledgable on the subject. For anyone looking to learn more about the great city of Orthel, I would recommend starting in the village of Trollberg.

-From ‘Jéspiat’s guide to life as a Drekamaður’, page 45 paragraph’s 5-9

Harold strained, reaching upwards with his left hand, while his right arm and leg held him precariously on the mostly sheer rock face. His left leg cried out, the deep gash on his upper thigh burning with renewed passion. He grit his teeth, ignoring the pain.

Just a little further…

His fingers inched towards the handhold he had picked out, a small ledge a few inches across. His foot hold suddenly gave out, and he fell unceremoniously to the ground. He landed on his back with a deep thud that reverberated through the small pit he occupying. The strange creature had dropped him here several hours ago, after it had chased him down through the woods early this morning. He lay on the ground, groaning. The dust that had been disturbed by his sudden fall slowly settled on the ground again. He closed his eyes, hoping he hadn’t broken anything. His inexplicable reservoir of bad luck pulsed slowly, demanding attention like an out of tune instrument in an orchestra. It was only about a third full, so he could still ignore it easily. He sat up slowly, grunting. His back smarted, and his arms had a few new scraps but it didn’t feel like he’d broken anything.

This was his third attempt to climb his way out of the pit, now that the monster had lumbered off somewhere. He had no way to tell how long it would be gone, but it didn’t look like he would be able to climb out. Maybe if his leg wasn’t messed up. And maybe if he was 15 years younger. His muscles were already crying at the protest, though he had barely ascended more then 8 feet - the top of the pit being close to double that. He scooted over to the wall - not wanting to stand on his leg more then he needed - and put his back to it, letting out a long sigh. He opened his canteen, and peered inside, though it was too dark in the pit to see anything. It more like a really deep cave than just some hole in the ground. There was a ceiling of rock far above him, with a small opening on one end that let light through. He shook the canteen, and it didn’t feel like there was much left though. He was luckily to have it at all. What he would give for his bag right then. He took a gulp, and forcibly stopped himself from chugging the remaining contents. Who knew how much longer he would be down here.

Well, he didn’t have any food, and only a few gulps of water, so it wouldn’t be that long, assuming he didn’t bleed out before the lack of food got him. He felt at the makeshift bandage he had wrapped around his thigh, and found it wet with blood. He had used the leg if his pants to wrap it this time, but he didn’t want to use the other leg yet. So, he started unbuttoning his uniform, and took off his undershirt. He carefully unwrapped his leg and inspected the wound for any sign of infection - though in the dim light it was hard to tell for certain. He had been really worried about it when he’d first wrapped it, as some of the black goo from the creature had gotten on it. Luckily that had washed out easily, and he didn’t see any signs of it left. After finishing his inspection, he rewrapped it with his undershirt.

It had mostly stopped bleeding, though his latest attempt to climb out had reopened it somewhat. He really shouldn’t be moving it, but what else could he do? Hilda was probably losing her mind back at the cabin - assuming she hadn’t already left looking for him. Or maybe she thought he had abandoned her. He grimaced at that thought, and it was enough to make him stand, ready to try the wall again. He wouldn’t let her believe that, no matter what. He shuffled over, and stared up, considering his path. There weren’t many handholds, and the top extended out over the wall a foot or so, meaning he would have to somehow climb around it, without any hand holds. He sighed, considering his chances. The bad luck inside him churned, having steadily built since yesterday morning. He briefly considered using it - on what he couldn’t say - but quickly through the idea out. It would probably just bring the ceiling down on him anyway.

He put his hand on the wall, and was about to start climbing when he heard the thumping footsteps of the creature returning. He shied away from the wall, and kept his eyes on the opening. He still wasn’t sure why it was keeping him here. He recognized is as one of the things that the reports had mentioned, some otherworldly monster that had appeared out of nowhere. Was it going to eat him? He didn’t think it could get through the opening of the cave above, it had just thrown Harold in after subduing him and left him alone since. And beyond that, he didn’t think it did eat. It didn’t have a mouth at any rate. Maybe it used photosynthesis or something.

Who cares what it eats?

He couldn’t help but wonder. His only real hobby over the last decade had been cataloging the local flora and fauna around Trollberg - and in his own opinion, he had gotten quite good at it. The thumping drew closer, but he started hearing something else. A voice, shouting.

“Let go of me! Argh!” The voice was faint, but it was drawing closer with the thumping steps. Had it caught someone else then? He didn’t have time to think about what the ramifications of that before the pit darkened as something loomed in the doorway.

“Wait, what are you doi- AAAHH!” The words cut off as somebody was thrown through the doorway into the pit. Harold rushed forward to catch whoever it was, but was unprepared for the sudden weight. They fell to the ground with a heap, and Harold smacked his head onto the ground painfully. The ground was covered in a layer of dust, so it was surprisingly soft, but he still saw stars for a moment. He let out a low moan of pain as he lay on the ground. The person - a teenage girl he now saw - quickly got off of him, then knelt by his side.

“Oh my gosh, are you alright?” She asked, her voice filed with concern. He groaned in response, coughing from the dust all around. She grabbed his arm and helped him sit up slowly. He brushed the dust out of his hair and beard as best he could and got his first good look at his new company. Her dark hair and skin were covered in a thin layer of dust he was sure he shared, and she was wearing standard traveling clothes, with a sturdy looking - if a bit crushed - bag on her back.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He grunted, in response to her earlier question. She nodded, sighing in relief, then stood, looking all around the pit. It wasn’t large, maybe 15 paces from end to end, shaped in an oblong rectangle.

“Thank goodness. And thanks for catching me.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Frida.”

“Harold.” He said, shaking it. Her eyes went wide and she leaned in slightly, seeming to grow excited.

“Harold Wildsen?”

Harold blinked, a bit taken aback. “Uh.. yes, that’s me.”

“We found your bag out in the woods.” She said excitedly. She dug through her bag, and pulled out a dull bronze badge, thrusting it towards him. He recognized it instantly. He accepted it, looking over it slowly. He had lost his bag when it had gotten got on a low hanging branch, causing the strap to tear. He had been a bit preoccupied by running for his life, so he’d been forced to leave it - and the badge inside - behind. Something else piqued his curiosity however.

“We?” He asked, pocketing the badge.

“Yes, I’m out here with two - well, one of my friends and another guy.”

“Where are they now?” He asked, ignoring the strange phrasing.

“Somewhere out there, I can’t say where. That thing grabbed me and outran them a few miles back.”

Harold considered that. Did it limit itself to only one at a time for some reason? It was certainly big enough to take more then one at once. Maybe there was something about him and the girl that it wanted specifically, though as far as he could tell they were about as opposite as two people could be.

“I don'y suppose they're coming to rescue you?” He asked, hopeful.

“Well, probably, but…” She looked to the side. “I wouldn’t count on it working.”

He just raised an eyebrow. “I see. Well the only other option is climbing.” He motioned to the wall. She followed his motioning and looked up the wall nervously.

“That wall is pretty tricky.” He said, shakily rising to his feet and walking towards it. She followed slowly, still studying the smooth face of stone. There were a few good hand holds near the beginning, but the further up you went the smoother the rock became. There was a ledge at the top as well, jutting out over the pit by at least a foot. Not a horrible ledge climb - and one that would probably be easy for an experienced climber, but far too much for Harold in his current state.

“I don’t suppose you’re an excellent climber?”

She shrugged. “I got the climbing badge in sparrow scouts, but that was a few years ago. And we had harnesses and belay equipment.” She said sheepishly. “I’m not sure how confident I am free climbing.”

Harold grunted in response. “Well, it might be your only way out of here. I tried a few times already, but…” He put his hands out, motioning to the pit around him. “Here I still am.”

“And how did you end up here?” She asked, unexpectedly.

“Oh, well, I was traveling through the woods last night, when that thing popped up out of nowhere. It chased me for awhile, before it sliced my leg here.” He gestured down at the shoddy bandage.

“It brought me and dumped me in this hole just before sunrise.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes obviously. I mean, why were you out here in the first place? Where were you going? What is a bellkeeper doing so far from the city?”

It was a valid question. The Bellkeepers had only recently become part of the Safety patrol, though they were more like a separate department, with their own members and chain of command. As the one and only senior patrol officer in the Bell keepers, Harold was technically in charge of the rest of them. In practice however, he mostly let the other three dozen or so Bellkeepers be, and they usually reported to Gerda directly. They’re only real duty was watching the walls, and maintaining the bell towers. They never patrolled the streets, and only helped keep the peace if it directly involved the wall in someway. So a valid question, but also a very awkward question.

“It’s classified.” He stammered out. It seemed believable enough, assuming she didn’t know much about how the SP auctioned. He prayed she wouldn’t press the issue. She just raised an eyebrow.

“What were you and you’re friends doing so far from the city?” He asked back, hoping the challenge would help take some of her suspicion off of him.

“Oh, us? We were just out… on a stroll.” She said, looking away quickly.

He narrowed his eyes. She was lying. Why would she lie? Well, he had just lied... but he had good reason.

“A stroll.” He said flatly, challenging her.

“Well…” She said, the word drawn out. “We’re also looking for someone.” She said.

Harold’s breath caught. Looking for someone. There was only one person out here who they could be looking for.

“Who?” He asked, forcing his voice to remain casual. He already knew the answer, but he had to ask.

“A friend of ours. Hilda, that’s her name.” She said, waving her hand dismissively. Then, noticing his expression at the name, frowned.

“Do you know her?” She asked, eyes narrowing.

“Oh, uh. No. No, I don’t know her.” Harold said quickly, trying to think.

Frida narrowed her eyes. "Really." She saidsuspiciously.

Damn.She's sharp.

He needed abelievable reason to be out here. It hit him suddenly, and he felt like anidiot for not realizing it soon.

"Yes, Idon't know her.But, I was sent out here to find her."

Frida's raised an eyebrow, and co*cked her head. "Really?" Sheasked, this time a genuine question.

"Yes. Gerda herself sent me out here." He said, nodding solemnly. It wastrue, in a manner of speaking.

"Normally Iwouldn't be off the wall, but we've been so short staffed, and the poor girls mother was so distraught..." Hesaid, trailing off, hoping she would buy it. Amazingly, Frida nodded thoughtfully, seeming to accept his answer.

Shelooked back at the wall, and Harold gave a silent sigh of relief. He walked a few feet away to adifferent section of wall andsank down, needing to think. He stillhad a problem, a big problem. Frida - and her two mystery friends - were looking for Hilda.This Frida had to be working for the witches. What other explanation could there be? In fact, now that he thought about it, if he was working for the witches, he wouldn’t send a witch out to look for Hilda. No that would be far to obvious, he wouldinstead send somebody like this Frida here. Someone to lower Hilda’s guard. He felt a chill, even as the more reasonable side of he mind took over.

If the witches knew Hilda was out here, why were they pestering Gerda for her location? And why would they need Hilda to lower her guard? A surprise attack would work much better. Then again, there could be dozens of witches waiting. But again, why would they need Hilda’s guard lowered? She hadn’t exactly put up a fight in the tower, she’d played completely defensive. Maybe the witches knew something about her new found ‘abilities’ that Harold didn’t. Most of the stories claimed that Drekamaður were some of the most dangerous things in the world, though they rarely mentioned specifics.So then what, Frida was just aconcerned friend?That seemed like a stretch too.

“You must be good friends, to come out all this way for her.” He said, choosing his words carefully.

“Oh, well, she’d do the same for me. And I guess I’m used to it by now? She does stuff like this all the time.” Frida said, off handedly, still studying the wall. She laughed to herself, and shook her head.

“Yeah, she’s always getting into trouble. She’s usually pretty good at getting out of trouble though…” She said it quietly, as if to herself. Harold didn’t miss the line appear on her forehead though. She was clearly more worried then she wanted to let on.Maybe just aconcerned friendafter all.

“You’re hurt!” She said suddenly, noticing his leg. He looked down at it dumbly, and noticed he’d already bled through his new makeshift bandage.

“Oh. Yeah. The damn thing nicked me while it was chasing me last night. I managed to get it back though.” He said, stabbing the air with an imaginary knife. Frida walked over, rummaging through her bag.

“I have some bandages in here, and some antiseptic.” She said, handing them to him.

“Much appreciated.” He said, thanking her with a nod. He accepted the items, and started pulling the old bandage off.

“Do you want some help?” She asked, even as she shied away from the bloody gash. “I got a lot of first aid related badges back in sparrow scouts.”

Harold chuckled softly, remembering the ‘first aid training’ he had received back during his time with the sparrow scouts. It had mostly amounted to nothing more then just calling an ambulance.

“I got it. Thank you.” He said and he opened the jar of antiseptic. He scooped out a healthy glob of the clear sticky stuff, and rubbed throughout the gash as best he could, gritting his teeth against the horrible feeling. After he was done with that, he took the new clean bandage and wrapped his leg tightly.

“There, good as new.” He said, once finished. Frida had wandered back to the wall, and started testing some of the lower hand holds. Suddenly shouting came from outside. The voice was muffled, but Harold could still pick it out.

“Hey ugly! Look at me! Here I am, come chase me you idiot!” The voice was masculine, though Harold guessed the speaker was still a teenager - probably one of the friends Frida had mentioned. The taunt was answered by a terrible screaming sound, and thumping as the monster started after who ever had yelled at it.

Frida put her face in her hands.

“They can’t be serious.” She said with a groan.

“Your friends I take it?” Harold asked. She just nodded back. The thumping retreated into the distance, and they were once again left in silence, though it didn’t last long.

“Hello?” A voice called from above. A moment later, a shaggy haired head peaked out over the edge.

“David!” The girl cried, stepping back from the wall a few feet to see him better. Harold stayed seated on the far side of the room, resting his head agains the wall.“Frida! Are you alright?”

“Yes I’m fine, but I’m stuck down here. Do you have a rope?”

“Even better!” He said with a smile. “Catch!” He tossed what looked like a stick down to the girl who only barely managed to catch the unexpected throw.

“My wand!” She said, growing excited. Harold immediately tensed. A wand? Only witches used wands. But this Frida was much to young - not to mention too nice - to be a witch.

“I assume that will help?” David called down, voice hopeful.

She thought for a moment before nodding. “I should have the stuff in my back for a simple levitation spell.”

She looked back at Harold, and her face fell. “Though, it might not matter. We’ll never outrun that thing with your bad leg.”

The boy - David, glanced up, and seemed to notice him for the first time.

“Oh, hello there.”

Harold nodded back at him, feeling strangely awkward.

“Don’t worry about me. I can keep up.”

Frida eyed him, but didn’t say anything.

“We’ll figure it out when you’re out of the hole.” David hissed, looking over his shoulder.

“So hurry up! Trevor can’t keep it busy forever you know!”

Frida nodded. “Do you still have those vials I gave you?” David nodded. “Good, throw them down.” It took a little while to get them down safely, but soon Frida was digging through her bag, and produced more vials. She selected three, seemingly at random. They didn’t have any labels or identification that Harold could see at any rate. She opened them carefully, and poured a bit of each into her hand. She then replaced the cork on each one and put them gently back into her bag. She walked over to Harold and kneeled down next to him.

“How high up do you think that is?” She asked, gesturing to the wall in front of them. Harold considered thoughtfully.

“Maybe 15 feet. Why?”

Frida just nodded, staring at the floor. She mouthed a few numbers, and appeared to be doing math in her head.

“Ok this should make us float upwards for about 25 seconds. We might need to kick off the ground.”

Harold nodded slowly, still unsure what was going on.

“Good.” She said, standing and offering her hand. He took it with a grimace, and started getting to his feet. It took longer then he would have liked, and he let out a few curses under his breath. Eventually, he stood back on his own two feet, only leaning against the wall a little. He limped over to the far wall, cursing with each step. It got easier as he walked, but it was still very painful.

“Could you two hurry please?” David called, his voice nervous.

Frida glared up at him, but didn’t say anything, instead she just pulled out the handful of ingredients and her ‘wand’. Now that he saw it up close, he was pretty sure it was a old piece of furniture. She seemed confident though.

“Keep a hand on my shoulder.” She said, without looking at him. He did so, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. There didn’t appear to be any ceremony involved, and she just starting chanting. A orange aura appeared around her, and the small pile of ingredients in her hand started glowing a brilliant gold. They soon dissolved into small golden orbs floating above her hand. A horrible scream sounded from outside the cave, and David let out a yelp.

“It’s coming, hurry!”

The orange aura spread to Harold, and he started feeling light on his feet. The feeling increased until he realized his feet were no longer on the ground.

“Woah…” He muttered, looking around himself. The ascent wasn’t fast, but they didn’t have far to go. They reached the lip in a matter of seconds. David was reaching over and grabbed Frida’s shoulder pulling her - and by extension Harold - closer to the edge. They were up and over before he knew it. Frida’s chanting changed slightly, and they started floating down until their feet touched down on the ledge, right next a grinning David. Gravity once again regained it’s grip on Harold and his thigh cried out in protest. He quickly let go of Frida, his thoughts ablaze with new worry. She was a witch - no doubt about it.

A witch looking for Hilda. He was suddenly very glad he hadn’t revealed anything about his relation to her. But then again, he didn’t know for sure that this girl was affiliated with the three that had attacked Hilda. And how did this David kid fit into it? And there was supposedly a third one out there somewhere distracting the monster. The three witches were looking for Hilda, he knew that for certain. But again, if they knew Hilda was out here - and had sent Frida out here after her - why were they trying to get her location out of Gerda? So did he believe Frida? It wasn’t a huge stretch. A concerned group of friends trying to find their friend after over a week of no sight or sound. He wanted to believe it, he really did.

“Come on, lets get out of here!” David hissed, running to the mouth of the cave. Frida ran after him, and Harold followed as best he could. He had to duck slightly to get out, and blinked in the strong sunlight. Looking west, he could see the sun just touching the horizon, sunset only minutes away. Looking back he got his first good look at the place of his incarceration; it being too dark for him to see it earlier. They had emerged from a large outcropping of stone that stood alone in a small clearing.

The stones were jagged, and almost looked like they had been stacked, like a child playing with wood blocks, which might explain the claw like marks on the rocks near the 'door'. Perhaps this had been some sort of troll den, or the home of some other forest dweller. The top of the ‘building’ was flat, far above Harolds head. There were several openings going up the rock, though from the lighting and angle, he couldn’t see if they were true openings or simply pitting in the rock.

Frida held her hand up, and a glowing orange needle appeared a few inches above her palm. Harold eyed it suspiciously, but he wasn't sure what it was. It pointed towards the forest, and another horrible scream rose up in that direction, distant, but probably only minutes away.

“It’s still trying to track the monster.” She said, he voice frustrated. “I think I can get it ignore it, if I mess with the spell a little, but it will take time.”

“You’ll have to do it later then.” Harold said, looking at the sky, trying to judge their location. He wasn’t sure exactly where they were, but he knew they needed to go east to get to the trail that led to the cabin. Unfortunately, east was where the bone chilling screams were coming from.

“This way.” David said, pointing to the north. “I told Trevor to meet me over there.” He said, walking north. It seemed as good a direction as any, and it would let them circle around the thing. Harold considered for a moment. He would have to slip away from them eventually, and head east, but for now, he might as well stick with them. Maybe he could find out what they were planning. So he started running after David., with Frida right behind him. David seemed to know where he was going, though there wasn’t any path or trail that Harold could discern. They walked in silence. Harold simply didn’t have the breath to spare, and Frida seemed lost in thought. David appeared to be caught up looking for landmarks, which Harold couldn’t object too. They came too a thick fallen log, running parallel to them. David nodded in satisfaction when they came to it.

“It’s not too much further.” He said quietly, then pointed at a scratch in the wood - a crude arrow pointing a little to the left.

“There’s a nice spot just over there, that’s the meeting point.”

“Good.” Harold grunted, trying to ignore the flames of pain that shot up his leg.

A scream came from behind, very distant now, from the clearing with the stacked stones unless Harold missed his guess. They all waited with held breath, to see if it got closer. No sound came, so they cautiously started walking further into the trees the direction the arrow pointed, until the reached a trio of pine trees, equal distance from each other, almost making a perfect triangle. David stopped once they reached the center.

“This is it, though I don’t see Trevor anywhere.” David said, looking concerned. They stood, waiting for something, but nothing happened.

“I guess we can wait here for a little while.” Frida said, walking to one of the pines and slung her pack of her shoulders, setting on the ground and sitting with her back against the thick pine.

Harold followed, much slower and sank down slowly, grimacing. Frida pulled her wand back out, and made the needle appear. She closed her eyes and started mumbling, though no glow appeared around her this time. Another scream sounded out, but it was still distant. Harold looked up anyway, half expecting it to jump out at any second. His leg was still hurting, so he slowly peeled back the bandage and looked at the wound. It was too dark under the tree to see much of anything., though he could tell it had gotten worse, doubtlessly from the long walk. It would still heal though, provided it had enough time to. Hopefully the creature wasn’t smart enough to follow their trail.

“He really should have been here by now.” David said, walking over, and sitting with them. Frida seemed to finish whatever she’d been doing, and closed her palm, making the strange floating needle disappear.

“I think I got it.” She said, her voice triumphant.

“It should ignore that thing and go straight for Hilda now.”

She opened her palm, and the needle reappeared, pointing a different direction now. Almost directly east - the same direction Harold knew the cabin was. He tried not to show his worry at this, after all, he had no idea if they meant her any harm. But he really didn't like the idea of a magic Hilda-seeker. And even if they had good intentions, how would they react when they saw her? He had no idea if was able to look normal again. Woodman had been less then clear on how long that would take. Frida closed her palm, and the needle disappeared. A scream sounded out again, though it was closer this time. They all held their breath anyways, waiting to see if it got closer. It didn’t sound again. He checked the bandage again, though it was clear he would need a new one. The night air was starting to feel chilly on his bare leg and he realized how rash it had been to cut the pant off. There wasn’t anything he could about it now though.

“Could I borrow some more bandages?” Harold asked, hopeful.

“Oh, yes, of course! Just a second.” Frida said, hurriedly taking her bag off and riffling through it. In a few moments she produced a clean bandage and helped him get the old one off. Her work was quick and efficient, and he realized he probably should have let her help before. She clearly had some experience, or at least training. David, for his part, simply went pale, and turned away with eyes pinched shut. Harold couldn’t blame him, if it wasn’t his own leg he would have felt squeamish too. The process didn’t take long, and in no time there was a new tightly wrapped bandage around his thigh.

“I’m afraid that’s the last of my bandages.” Frida said.

“You really shouldn’t be walking.”

Harold gave a half grunt half chuckle.

“I don’t really see another option.” He said with a rye smile. Frida just looked away. She obviously didn’t see one either.

“How long are we going to wait for your Trevor?” Frida asked, switching his attention to David, who had started pacing between two of the trees.

“I’m not sure, he should have been here by now. Maybe he got lost, or maybe that thing got him.” He stopped pacing and looked back the way they had come, though it was getting hard to see anything in the waning light.

“Should we go back for him?” David asked,as Frida stood and walked over to him.

“Lets not be hasty. We don’t know for sure he’s been captured.” Frida said

“I guess, but he really should have been here by now.” David said, his voice worried.

“How about we go get Hilda, then we can come back for him?” Frida suggested.

“We can’t leave him behind - even if he is the worst sometimes.” David said, waving the idea away.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving him behind anymore then you do. But I’m sure Hilda has some idea of what’s going on, and she’d be able to fix this.” Frida said said, putting a calming hand on his shoulder.

Harold raised an eyebrow from where he sat. He was reasonably sure Hilda had nothing to do with this situation, though he couldn’t be certain. But even if she was somehow responsible, what was she going to do about this? She was just a teenage girl - she couldn’t be expected to fight off a nightmarish monster.

“I guess you’re right…” David said, though he didn’t sound confident.

“We could even leave Harold here, in case he shows up.” Frida said pointing over at him. Harold sat up in surprise, letting out a choked sound.

“Well wait just a second!” He said from where he still sat.

“You shouldn’t walking anyway.” Frida said, walking back over and gently pushing him back against the pine tree.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine, and we’ll come right back.”

“I - Uh, well - But…” Harold desperately tried to think of a reasonable objection, but nothing came. He finally sat back and gave a reluctant nod.

“Alright, I suppose.”

“Here -” She said, grabbing her bag from where it sat next to him. ‘I’ll leave you with a flashlight, and some snacks.” She handed a few items to him, and he accepted them with a nod. He also noticed that she pulled another set of vials out - like the ones he had seen previously.

“Alright, we’ll be back soon.” She said, standing and walking back to David.

“You ready, David?”

He simply nodded. She held her hand up, and the needle reappeared. David gave him a wave, which he returned, feeling awkward for a reason he couldn’t describe. They pulled flashlights out of Frida’s bag and switched them on before they started walking. He settled back against the tree, getting ready for a long wait. The bad luck inside rose up, like a dog excited to see it’s owner. He pushed it down, barely even thinking about it. It was about half full, though it didn’t seem to build as quickly out here in the wilderness. His thoughts turned to his daughter.

He hoped Hilda would forgive him for letting them go to her unannounced. Given the circ*mstances, he couldn’t be blamed. Could he? He was injured, and he didn't want to reopen the wound again. Strangely, that felt like a weak excuse. She deserved better then that. He had already let her down by breaking his promise to get back to her that same day, he wouldn’t abandon her now. Before he fully made up his mind, he was getting - painfully - to his feet, and walking towards Frida and David.

“Wait just a second!” He called after them, half dragging his bad leg behind him. Frida turned, and gave him a frustrated look, letting the compass vanish. They hadn’t gone more then a couple paces away from the trees, and as he approached, they came to meet him.

“Go sit back down!” She said, motioning to the tree.

“No.” He said, using his most stubborn voice. “I will be damned if I let a bunch of kids roam through a demon infested forest without me.”

It seemed like a good enough reason. Maybe they would think he was especially ‘honorable’ or something.

David visibly stiffened. “We aren’t kids.” He said through tight lips. Harold rolled his eyes.

“Fine, whatever. Teenagers then. I still won’t let you go alone.”

“You’re hurt.” Frida said, waving him away. “You’ll just slow us down.”

“No I won’t.” Harold said, doing a little hop to prove it. He held back a gasp at the pain in his thigh at the action, and hoped they wouldn’t notice. Frida eyed him for a moment with another discerning look, but eventually just turned around without saying anything. She held up her palm and made the needle reappear. A scream sounded out, distant, but closer then he would have guessed. Harold whirled, looking behind them towards the clearing. The sun had long since set, but there was still plenty of dim twilight to see by. He saw movement in the trees. Not the monster, but a person, running towards them at full speed.

“It’s coming!” The figure shouted.

“Trevor!” David shouted, motioning over to them - though he had obviously already seen them. ‘Trevor’ reached them a moment later, and skidding to a stop. He was panting hard, and was motioning frantically behind him.

“It’s almost here, we gotta get out of here!”

“No time.” Frida said, pulling the vials he had seen earlier out. She quickly opened them and starting mixing the various powders and bits that came out of them.

“See if you can find some sticks or something.” She said over her shoulder to the rest of them.

“You expect us to fight it?” David cried, his voice going higher then Harold would have thought possible.

“Why not? As proven earlier but the lunatic in the car, they can be killed.” Frida snapped. Harold wasn’t sure what they were talking about, none of the reports he had read mentioned anything about one of these being killed. It certainly seemed to shut David up though, and he started searching nearby for large sticks. Trevor was still bent over, catching his breath. Harold couldn’t help but notice the hat he was wearing. It was a heavy wool hat, complete with two fuzzy balls dangling at either side. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would wear such a warm hat this far into spring, the lad must be sweating to death in. Trevor noticed Harold looking at the hat, and glared back up at him.

“Are you the SP man then?” His voice wasn’t friendly, so Harold just nodded. Trevor spat to the side, though it didn’t seem to be a rude gesture. He finally rose, wiping his mouth.

“Did you really have to lead it straight to us?” Frida asked, clearly annoyed.

“Lead it to you?” He barked back, voice angry. “It led me!”

Frida paused in her work, and turned back to him, her eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean?”

Trevor through up his arms.

“I was doing everything I was supposed to, distracting it out in the woods, when out of nowhere, it pulls up short and starts running away - like a dog called by a whistle or something!”

Frida’s eyes narrowed further.

“So I followed it back to the clearing David thought you were being held at, and it poked around for a few minutes. Just when I was about to slip away back here, it stops dead still like it heard something, and just took off into the woods this direction. I follow it again until it just stops, looking around like it’s dumb or something. I take my opportunity to come over here - where David told me to meet you idiots - and before I’m more then a quarter mile away from the thing it makes that dreadful sound and starts chasing after me!”

Harold raised an eyebrow. That was odd behavior.

“It can sense magic!” Frida cried suddenly, looking the direction in question.

"What?" David and Trevor said in unison.

"Think about it!" Frida said hurriedly.

"It came right to us earlier, because I was using the compass! Then it followed us up until I put the compass away! Then, it followed us again right when I pulled out the compass!"

Harold wasn't sure what they were talking about, but David and Trevor both nodded thoughtfully. Looking towards the sound Harold thought he could glimpse something distantly moving through the trees. David returned with three large sticks that would make decent clubs, and passed them out. Harold held his, testing the weight, though he didn’t feel confident at all.

“Move back between the pine trees, it’s a more defensive location.” He found himself saying, some part of his training - limited though it was - taking over.

They did so, moving as fast as they could.

“I’ll try to stun it, then you three can move in.” Frida said, pulling her wand out. The assortment of ingredients in her outstretched hand burst alight with a golden glow, and a orange aura spread around her - much stronger then it had in the cave. Another scream sounded, practically on top of them.

“I thought you said magic didn’t work as well out here.” Trevor muttered, getting into a fighting stance next to Harold. David nervously stood on his other side, with Frida a few feet away from them.

“It doesn’t.” Frida said in a snipped voice, Cleary concentrating. “That’s why I need more ingredients then back in Trollberg. Back home, I could do this with barely a thought.” As she said it, the golden glow jumped from her hand and split into three equal sized spheres, each the size of a tennis ball. They lazily spun in a circle a few inches above her palm.

“Out here though, I need a lot of prep time as well as the proper ingredients.”

Trevor nodded, as if that somehow made sense. Harold, for his part was completely lost. He didn’t have time to dwell on it though. He could now definitely see movement - despite the fading twilight - and could hear it crash through the trees ahead. He tightened his grip on the branch with sweaty hands. He hadn’t been in many fights, but swinging a stick? How hard could it be. The creature burst out of the trees, looking even more ghastly then he remembered. Like a scorpion mixed with a spider. It charged straight towards them, sunk close to the ground on all of it’s spindly legs.

“Not yet.” Frida muttered, seemingly to herself.

It was only a few yards away, and approaching rapidly, so Harold couldn’t imagine what she was waiting for.

“Almost.” She muttered, visibly tensing. Right as she did, the creature came up short. It was right between two of the pines. It stood tall, looming over them, seeming to study them - though without eyes or a face it was hard to tell. It suddenly rose up on only two legs, revealing where the stomach would be on any normal creature.

A large seam appeared along the front of the creature, opening like a gaping jaw. The opening didn’t reveal any teeth or anything else Harold would have normally associated with a mouth. Instead, it revealed a swirling mass of oily black ooze, somehow a shade darker then the rest of the thing. Immediately the golden glowing balls above Frida’s hand started stretching towards the gaping maw. The orange aura around the girl started sliding off of her, and towards the creature. Frida gasped, like she had been dunked in cold water, and fell to one knee, a hand going to her chest, the other sill resolutely holding the wand out. The stretching continued, and orbs were now large ovals, stuck between Frida and the monster. Frida let out a grunt, and sweat broke out on he forehead. She seemed to be locked in some unseen battle.

“What do we do?” David cried, looking at Frida with panicked eyes.

“Smash it!” Trevor roared, leaping forward. Harold put up a hand to stop him, and just as he did the orange glow finally seemed to snap off of Frida, and she collapsed in a heap.

“Frida!” David cried, jumping to her side. Trevor stopped only a few feet from where he had started, watching with horrified eyes as the orange glow condensed into a solid orange orb much larger then the golden ones, and with a strange oily sheen.

They streaked across the open field towards the monster, and stopped suddenly right in front of the sickening mouth. They went into the ‘mouth’ one by one, disappearing into the roiling black mass. The monster pulsed with the same golden light as each orb was absorbed. Finally, only the orange orb was left. Something came off of it just before it entered, a faint shimmer just barely visible. It came off like cream skimmed off of milk, and hung in the air for just a moment, before streaking towards Harold. He put his stick up to block it purely by instinct, but the strange oily substance passed right through it. It smashed into his chest, and disappeared. It was boiling hot, and he cried out, pulling back, but there was nothing to pull back from, the whole thing already over. He waited for something to happen, but nothing did. He didn’t feel any different. He taped his chest, expecting to feel blistering red skin from the heat he had felt, but everything was normal.

His shirt didn’t looking any different, and he didn’t see any marks on anything. He let his hands down, baffled. The bad luck inside of him rose up suddenly, and to his surprise it was almost full. What had happened? Had that oily stuff somehow increased his bad luck charge? Looking around, it didn’t seem like any of the others had noticed the strange interaction, and before he could consider it further his attention was drawn by the orange orb entering the strange mouth. The creature flashed a deep orange, and seemed to swell, growing slightly bigger in ever dimension. The seam closed, once again becoming seamless oily black skin. It reared back and let out another horrible scream, this one almost sounding triumphant. It started thrashing around wildly, making noises that Harold could only describe as shouts, not nearly as loud as before.

It’s celebrating!

He realized with a feeling of dread. This thing was a lot more intelligent then he had thought. Harold backed away slowly, towards Frida and David, unsure what to do. Trevor backed away with him, though he seemed ready to rush forward again at any moment. The creature seemed to finish it’s strange ‘dance’ and once again focused on them. Harold stoped retreating a few feet away from Frida, his stick held out uncertainly. Trevor fell in next to him, almost seeming eager. The monster regarded them with ridicule, evidently not worried in the slightest. And why would it be? They were literally trying to fight it with sticks. It approached them slowly, almost mocking them with how little it cared.

“Get Frida out of here.” Harold muttered behind him at David, who was still trying - unsuccessfully - to wake her.

“We’ll buy you some time.”

There was no reason they should all be captured again. Trevor glanced over at him, but didn’t argue. Instead saying.

“On three.”

Harold simply nodded.

“One.” Trevor said, crouching down. Harold adjusted his grip, tightening it until his knuckles were white. He was breathing quickly, a ragged scratchy sound like an old dog out for one last game of fetch.

“Two.” Adrenaline starting pumping through him, making the pain in his leg retreat until it was nothing but a distant whine, like shouting heard through a door.

“Three!” Trevor shouted and Harold burst forward like a cannonball. The creature didn’t break stride, and they met inside the pine trees. The creature struck first, shooting out with the two scythe like claws. Harold knew from experience that they were razor sharp, so he jumped back, bringing his stick around like he was swinging for a home run. He connected against the back of one of the claws, making a disgusting squelching sounds. Trevor had been forced to back away by the slicing claws, but managed to strike at the same place Harold had hit. The limb went back to creature bent the wrong way, but it didn’t seem to slow it down any.

They backed away,circling it slowly. Harold adjusting his grip on his shoddy club, and oddly he found himself wishing he had held onto the strange guitar from the fight in the tower. The creature advanced, slicing again. Trevor was quick enough to dance back, but Harold was forced to jump to the ground to avoid it. He clumsily got back on his feet, just in time to dodge a third leg that stabbed at the ground where he had been. It was out for blood then. Back on his feet, he swung with all his might at the leg while it was momentarily stuck in the hard dirt. This time, instead of bending, the club severed the limb completely causing the creature the rear up and scream - this time sounding pained. Trevor let out a triumphant shout, but Harold knew it wasn’t over.

It skittered back, leaving a trail of liquid good steadily streaming from the stump that had once been a leg. The leg stuck in the ground seemed to sag, until it completely lost form and became nothing more then a large puddle on the ground. The creature looked him, more discerningly. It still didn’t seem to view him as a threat, but it wasn’t as co*cky as it had been before. The stump suddenly retreated into the main body with a disgusting sound like two water balloons rubbing together. The creature seemed to fuzz slightly, shrinking ever so slightly, before a new leg popped out where the old one had been. It glistened, wet with with the black slime that slowly oozed down the side. Harold grimaced at the gruesome action, eyes locked the new leg.

“That's not good.” Trevor said from beside him, his voice grim. Harold was tempted to shout at him - something about calling a category 5 hurricane ‘a bit windy’ - but he held his tongue, knowing it wouldn’t help. Glancing back, he didn’t see any sign of David and Frida, so he could relax about that. Now he just needed to find a way to fight this monster off without getting killed. Despite the adrenaline pumping through him, his leg was starting to hurt again, and he could feel blood trickling down his leg, and pooling in his boot, making a soft squelch with each step. The monster advanced again, swinging in long swift arcs.

Harold was forced to back away, and Trevor dodged to the side. He tried bringing his club over again, but the creature pulled it’s legs back to quickly. It had clearly learned that giving them time to retaliate was a bad idea. It came forward again, this time bringing it’s leg around to slash horizontally at Harold’s chest. He used the stick to block, like a knight of old blocking with a sword. The razor-sharp claw bit deeply into the wood, but Harold was left undamaged. Trevor managed to back hand the claw as it retreated, but it didn’t seem to effect it at all, and didn't seem goaded by the attacks at all.

Another thing showing it’s intelligence, and not for the first time Harold found himself wondering what this thing was. It wasn’t like anything he had ever seen - or even heard of before. Could it be an alien? Some monster bent on destroying humanity from beyond the stars? The idea seemed laughable, but then what was the explanation? All he knew was that he didn’t have time to worry about it now. The monster charged again, giving the scream version of a battle cry. Trevor blocked a few hits, and Harold gave a two handed swing at one of the retreating claw.

It connected hard, and Harolds club snapped clean in two with a sharp crack, right above where he been holding it. Harold froze, staring at the remaining 8 inches of wood that had been his one and only defense. Trevor was still swinging, and landed a blow which was enough to wake Harold from the temporary freeze. He danced back, and Trevor joined him a moment later. They resumed their slow circling, and Harold wondered if the creature knew it was over for them. Trevor spared a glance for his stump grimly. He understood then. They had barely been able to hold this thing off with both of them, so there was little hope Trevor could do it on his own.

Harold glanced around their feet, hoping to find a suitable replacement, but there was nothing but twigs. They needed to make a run for it, it was there only chance. Just as he was about to hiss that to Trevor, the monster came at them. Trevor ran up to meet it, fending off the two scythe like claws as best he could. He didn’t bother trying to swing back, he was to busy not getting his head chopped off. The creature brought one of it’s larger, blunter rear legs around suddenly, smashing into Trevor with a sharp thud.

The boy cried out as he went sailing off to the side, his stick flying into the trees. Harold ran over to him, and amazingly Trevor seemed to be ok, just dazed. Harold dragged him to his feet, and pulled him out of the way as the monster rushed forward, slicing with it’s claws. Trevor stumbled to a stop as Harold jerked him still, and he was still clearly reeling from the hit. There wasn’t anytime to recover. There wasn’t anytime to run, they wouldn’t even make the treeline before being run down. Not both of them at least. Making a split second decision, Harold shoved the boy towards behind him.

“Get out of here!” He shouted, before charging right towards the monster. He had no weapon, and he had no plan. All he had was a small stub of wood, and filled reservoir of bad luck. He focused on the monster as hard as he could, and pushed the bad luck out of him. Except it wouldn’t go. It resisted going towards the creature. The feeling was so jarring, he almost lost he footing as he skidded to a stop, mere feet away from the thing. It eyed him (as much as something with no eyes could) hungrily, readying itself to pounce.

He shook himself, looking for any other option. There was a tree nearby, maybe if it fell in just the right way… He focused on the tree - one of the large pines that made up the triangle - and pushed most of the bad luck towards it. This time, the energy spilled out of him eagerly, like a schoolboy bursting out after a long day of math. The creature reared as the energy left, making a new scream. Dare he hope it was fear he was hearing? A sudden strong gust of wind blew past Harold, strong enough to nearly knock him over. The tree shook in the unexpected gale, branches cracking and falling to the ground. Pine needles fell like the snowflakes, covering the nearby ground. Then as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. The tree stood tall, unaffected other then a few branches that were now lying on the ground.

What now? He thought, looking around desperately. He had really hoped that would work. Now he was even closer to the thing. It was still reared up, it’s oily underside completely exposed. Another idea struck Harold, even dumber then the last. He looked down at the remains of his club that he still gripped. The break hadn’t been clean, leaving small spiked points at the end. Before he thought it through fully, he ran the last few yards to the monster, and rammed the stick into it’s belly. The stink sank in a few inches, but the skin heavily resisted. It was like trying to puncture a yoga ball with just a finger. He pressed further, bringing his other hand up to help, and pushed with all his might.

He let out a grunt of exertion, and the stick went in another inch. The creature started coming back down, and the weight was enough to finally break through. The stick sank all the way in, and his arm went with it, up to his elbow. Oily tar oozed out around his arm as the creature let out a pained scream, and stumbled back a few steps. Harold quickly pulled his arm out, and black tar exploded out of the hole, spewing all over Harold. He put his hands up to shield his face, but the foul stuff still managed to get in his eyes and mouth. He stumbled, slipping in the good. He fell to the ground in a puddle of now muddy tar, spitting and trying to get it out of his eyes. He felt the crash as the monster finally returned to the ground, still letting out an ear shattering scream.

He tried to get to his feet, still mostly blinded, but just slipped in the muck and splashed back to the ground. Something crashed into his side, and he felt something crunch deep inside. He was sent spinning away, and landed awkwardly knocking the breath out of him. He struggled to breath even as a new fiery pain blossomed in his side. His eyes teared up, and he was finally able to breath again. His breath came raggedly, and the only sound he could make was a pitiful moan of pain. He felt thumping as the creature approached, and he braced himself for the killing blow. Instead, he was seized roughly under his arms and dragged a few feet away, where he was slammed against something hard.

He gasped, he side now a blinding white-hot spear of pain. He blinked through tears and some remaining tar, just in time to see the creature wrap a tentacle around him and the tree he was sitting against. It held him fast, though he could barely muster the strength to squirm. Looking around, he didn’t see any sign of Trevor which did make him feel a bit better. At least the stupid stunt had worked. The creature seemed to consider him thoughtfully, as if debating whether or not kill him. It made up it’s mind and suddenly sliced through it’s own tentacle, spilling more tar onto the ground. The remaining length harden, quickly becoming as hard as stone.

It turned, and thumped away - no doubt on it’s way to track down the others. In a moment he was alone. One arm was completely pinned to his side, but the other free up until the elbow. He tried prying at the black chord that bound him, but it didn’t budge. He felt warm around his leg, and feeling at with his fingers revealed that it was bleeding again, badly this time. He couldn’t get to his side to inspect it, but from the feel of it, he was pretty sure he had at least a couple broken ribs.

He almost felt like laughing. Or maybe crying, or yelling until his voice was raw. Or maybe he would just close he eyes and drift off. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, his was extremely tired. He was even more trapped then he’d been in the pit, and by the steady feel of blood running down his leg, he was dying. Such a strange thought; one he couldn’t really internalize. In fact, thinking in general was getting difficult as he started feeling light headed. He was sorry though, sorry he wouldn’t get to explain his tardiness to Hilda. Just when things were starting to turn up too. It wasn’t surprising, not really. That’s how his life as always gone, or that’s how it seemed to him at least.

At least you won’t have to explain yourself to Johanna now. He thought dimly. He let out a soft chuckle, which quickly turned to a pained groan. It was true though, he had been silently dreading that ever since he had chosen to go with Hilda back at the cliffside cafe. A memory that felt so recent, yet also seemed to have taken place a lifetime ago. He realized he was drifting, his head falling back against the tree. A sudden sound nearby, made him slowly move his head back down. To his surprise he saw Trevor stalking towards him, moving quickly through the grass in a hunched position. He crouched by Harolds side, and looked him over with a grimace. Harold realized how terrible he must look, covered in blood and oily goo.

“You look terrible. Can you move?” Trevor asked in a whisper. Harold shook his head slowly.

“It tied me up somehow.” He said, his words feeling thick in his mouth. He gestured to the remains of the tentacle as best he could. Trevor frowned, feeling at the bindings. He tried to move them, but they held fast. He reached into his pocket, and pulled ou ta familiar looking pocket knife, and started cutting at it with the serrated end. It worked, but slowly.

“You must be crazy.” Trevor said as he worked. “Running up at the thing like that? That takes some real balls.” He laughed, shaking his head.

Harold just grunted, and let his head fall back again, feeling exhausted.

“It didn’t even kill the stupid thing.” He said after a moment.

“Maybe not, though it’s only about half as big as it was before. I bet once it runs out of goo, it's done for good. Though we can worry about that later. ” Trevor said, still hard at work. He paused, listening. After a moment Harold heard it too. A soft thumping, getting closer. The monster was returning. Trevor started cutting again, sawing furiously. Harold could tell it wouldn’t work. Trevor had barely made a dent.

“You gotta get out of here.” Harold said, forcing each word out. It felt like his mouth was filled with gravel, such a strange feeling.

“No chance.” Trevor said, his jaw set.

“Don’t be stupid. There’s nothing you can do. Leave the knife with me, and I’ll keep cutting.”

“So what, I can muck about in the woods on my own all night? No thanks.” Trevor said, and Harold thought he caught a bit of fear in the tone.

Harold considered only briefly, before finally changing his mind. Maybe this was a trap set for Hilda, but he was just going to have to risk it. He sat up as straight as he could, and grabbed Trevor by the arm.

“Head directly east, you’ll find a small trail. Follow it, and you’ll find a cabin.” He said, straining to get the words out. His mind was hazy, everything seemed distant - even the pain. That probably wasn’t a good sign, but it didn’t matter right now.

“You’ll find Hilda there.” He forced out. Trevor froze, knife still in hand. He looked to Harold sharply, with a new look of distrust.

“How do you know that?” He asked harshly, standing and taking a step back. The thumping was growing closer.

“No time.” Harold said, even as his arm fell limply to his side.

“Go.” He weezed the word out, before his strength gave out, and his head fell back against the tree. Trevor looked at him, seeming to consider. He finally leaned back over, and slipped the knife into Harolds exposed jacket pocket, where he could still get to it before running into the woods directly east. Harold smiled, and let his eyelids droop. They seemed to be closed for only a moment, but when he opened them again, the light had faded into twilight, and David was nudging his leg. He was stuck in a similar position with his own hardened tentacle next to Harold on the trunk with both arms held tightly. Frida was in front of them, tied on a nearby tree, and she appeared to still be unconscious.

“Harold! Are you alright?” David asked, his voice panicky.

Harold tried to say something, but all that came out was a dull groan. His mouth was so dry. He reached for his canteen before he realized he still couldn’t move. He licked his lips slowly, and tried speaking again.

“I’m fine.” He mumbled, closing his eyes again.

“Where’s Trevor?” David asked, looking around. “I don’t see him anywhere! He’s not… I mean, he isn’t…” He trailed off leaving the question unspoken.

“No he’s not dead.” Harold said chuckling. What a silly thought. David was silly. Almost as silly as himself.

“Where is he then?” David asked, nudging him again. It was very rude of him. Couldn’t he see that Harold was trying to sleep? He was so very tired after all. So tired, and so silly.

“Harold? Where’s Trevor?” He nudged him harder this time, and Harold opened his eyes again, though everything seemed to be spinning slightly. He didn’t like the feeling, so he pinched his eyes shut.

“He’s going to Hilda.” He said. David asked something else, but Harold didn’t catch it as unconsciousness claimed him again.

Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Officially, there are eight commonly recognized breeds of Dragon. Those being Purple, Red, Yellow, Orange, Green, Blue, Black, and White. Some argue there are more or less - most commonly stating that there aren’t enough blue dragons to hold their own category - but I find the blue Dragons distinct enough towarrant their owncategory, and willspeak of them at length. I will briefly cover each of them in this text, for your own edification. There are only six types of Drekamaður however, with no Green or Black dragon ever creating one. The Green Dragons simply aren’t capable of it, and the Black Dragons are too greedy to share their power. So while a Black Drekamaður is possible, I have never found an instance of it happening, despite Black Dragons being one of the more common varieties. It simply isn’t in there nature.

-From ‘Jéspiat’s guide to life as a Drekamaður’, page 45 paragraph 1

He wasn’t coming back tonight. Hilda finally accepted that fact with a long sigh. The sun was just barely visible over the horizon, and with each passing second the light grew dimmer and dimmer. Hilda pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. The once pleasant night suddenly felt chilly. She watched until the last sliver of sun finally set behind the far off mountains. Hilda stood from her nest of branches atop the tree, and couldn’t help but scan the treeline for movement one last time. She was being stupid, there was no point just staring out at the trees endlessly. He would get here when he got here, and not a second before.

It was easy to tell herself, but it didn’t stop the endless flow of worry from her mind. She opened a small tear, and used a small bit of magic to lower her weight by about a third. She started climbing down from the tree, swinging from branch to branch recklessly. Why worry? She could probably survive the fall, even if she wasn’t at two thirds of her normal weight. She couldn’t help but smile. Going from branch to branch was pure fun, in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. No cares, nothing holding her back, just climbing down from a tree. She could do that. The thirty seconds or so it took her to descend down were some of the best in recent memory.

Before she knew it, she had reached the bottom branch. She sat there, still a dozen or so feet above the ground. She looked out longingly at the tree line, wishing she could run off into those trees and really see what she could do. At the same time though, she didn’t want to go anywhere in case Harold returned while she was away. She felt trapped in a way, unable to move on until he got back. Again, the fear that he wouldn’t return came back. She tried to fight it off, but it held on. It felt like a rock in her stomach, weighing her down with implications.

He promised…

The thought felt naive. She barely knew him, she had no idea if a promise from him meant anything. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to worry anymore. She wanted so desperately to believe him, to believe that she had a father, and their family could be whole for the first time in her life. She hadn’t realized how strongly she had wanted that until now. To get so close to it, only for it to be yanked away… it was almost unbearable. She made her decision. If he wasn’t back by tomorrow morning, she would set off after him. Maybe it was foolish of her, maybe she should have more faith in Harold, but she just couldn’t stand waiting around any longer. Nodding to herself, she slid off the branch, and lazily floated down to the ground, touching down with barely a sound.

She returned to her normal weight, and started walking inside. She took one last breath of the cool twilight air, and stepped inside. It was dark, but with her enhanced eyes she could still easily see the house around her. She still flipped the light switch on - making a few ancient bulbs flicker on above. Woodman usually left them off, preferring only fire light, but Hilda found the steady electric glow comforting. They reminded her of living in the cabin, back when things were simpler. She closed the door behind her, and let the illusion slide off, and stretched, like she had just set down a heavy pack after a long hike.

She walked to Woodman’s record player, and thumped through his collection. It had taken her a little while to figure out how to use the thing, but now she got it going with ease. She didn’t recognize any of the names, so chose one of the records mostly at random. The cover showed a man sitting by a fire, guitar in hand, looking wistfully out the window. The music slowly faded in, and Hilda found it pleasant. The mans voice was deep and smooth, like what she imagined a cowboy would sound like.

The song was somber, about a man who feared he had wasted his life on foolish things - and regretted it more then anything, but couldn’t do anything too fix it. She listened for awhile, staring off into space and just enjoying the music. The song ended, and she stirred, as if waking from a trance. Another song soon started, but she found herself thirsty. She walked to the kitchen, thinking that a cup of tea would do the trick. A few minutes later, she returned to the living room, cup in hand, and sat on the couch. She picked the book back up, and after a minute a searching found her place, and continued reading.

A few hours later, something sounded from outside and she started awake, still on the couch. She blinked bleary eyes, and realized she must of nodded off while reading. The record had long since ended, though the record continued to spin slowly, the needle sitting in the center uselessly. She yawned and stretched lazily, slowly rising. The sound came again, and this time she recognized it. Footsteps, coming from outside. She jumped up, her heart leaping in relief. The book fell to the floor in a heap, but she barely noticed. He was finally back. She quickly switched the record player off, and she was halfway to the door before she realized the footsteps weren’t right. Too light, and the pace was off. She hadn’t realized she knew the sound of Harold's footsteps, but she knew for a fact that these weren’t his. She slowed, and didn’t throw the door open as she’d been planning.

Could it be Woodman? No, they seemed to heavy for him. And thinking back to when he had snuck up on her after she woke up, she was pretty sure he didn’t make any sound at all as he walked - another oddity about her spirit friend she hadn’t noticed before. So somebody else then. She put the illusion on, barely requiring a thought. She crept to the window and peeked out the curtain, making sure she didn’t reveal herself. She saw a lone figure making their way towards the cabin slowly, stumbling in the dark. Instantly she grew concerned. A witch? Had they found her? But no, she didn’t think a lone witch would be approaching out in the open like that. Even so, she felt a spike of anxiety at the thought.

She tried to think of any other explanation. Maybe a lost hiker, who happened to come this way? She didn’t see any sort of hiking bag, and what kind of hiker would leave without a flashlight? Even as she watched the figure stumbled again, clearly not able to see their path well in the dark.

What if it’s one of my friends? Frida, or even David!

The thought came excitedly, but she quickly shot it down. How would they have found her? And why would there only be one of them? David certainly would never come out her alone at night. Well whoever it was, they were almost at the door. They must have seen the light coming through the blinds. Hilda crept back from the window, careful to not make so much as a sound.

It was far to late to turn the lights off, but maybe she could pretend no one was home? That could work, though they might just barge in anyway. It was probably pretty cold out there, knowing how cold it had felt right after sunset. The footsteps steadily approached, and Hilda stood, eyes locked on the door. They stopped right outside the door, and all fell silent. The clock in the other room ticked steadily, and Hilda could hear her own shaky breath. A knock suddenly sounded, causing her to flinch. She didn’t move, not daring to even breath. She suddenly noticed that the door was unlocked. She must have forgotten too when she came in.

“Hello?” A muffled voice called. “Is anyone there?” The voice was masculine, and sounded familiar, though Hilda felt too frantic to place it at that very moment. They knocked again, Hilda stood in place, sweating, hoping they would go away. Why hadn’t she locked the door? She cursed herself again. The knock came again, a loud *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*.

“Hilda? Are you in there?” The voice called, louder this time.

Her eyes went wide, and her breathing picked up. A thousand things went through her mind at once. They knew she was here. Her specifically. How did they know she was here? Harold wouldn’t have told anyone she was here. That meant it was someone sent by the witches, it had to be. Her palms suddenly felt sweaty, and she swallowed nervously. She took a few shaky steps away from the door, but a treacherous floorboard creaked.

“Hello? Is someone there?” The voice called.

She remained silent, but her breath was coming in and out in ragged shallow gasps.

Hyperventilating. I’m hyperventilating.

The thought came analytically, like someone else was saying it as they observed her through one way glass.

She desperately tried to regain control of herself, but a deep-set, all encompassing fear had seized her. Her hands shook, and her heart pounded in her ears. It beat so hard it hurt, like it was going to rattle it’s way out of her chest completely.

Her feet remained planted on the carpet, but she felt like she was curled up on the cold stone floor of the witches tower again. She could almost feel the oily touch of the witches magic, trying to soak in through her skin, wriggling and worming it’s way into her very soul. She hear their cackling laughter, the uncaring sad*stic satisfaction as they tortured her on the floor. The room seemed to darken around her, and the door grew large, looming above her until it was the only thing she could see. The door handle started turning.

What do I do? What do I do? WhatDoIDoWhatDoIDoWhatDoIDoWhatDoIDo?

Her entire body shook now, her hands balled into fists at her side. She held them so tightly her entire hand turned white, matched in color only by her now pale face.

"Alright, well I'm coming in!" The voice called

The door slowly started opening. A leg came through, and Hilda pinched her eyes shut. She had to run, get out of this house and never look back. It was too late to run though, she was cornered. They would take her back to tower. The thought made her cold, cold like she had never felt. Cold like she had never been warm - and never would be again.

That couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t let them take her. In her panicked state, that thought alone brought a semblance of clarity, and she knew what she needed to do. Her eyes popped open and she ripped a tear open, filling herself to bursting. The magic started draining away from her, and the faint blue shield popped into place around her. She charged forward letting out a scream fueled by terror and directed by rage. She was across the room in a heartbeat, before the door was fully opened. She raised a hand and started swinging before the door was fully open.

The shield warped to stay in front of her fist, always staying a few inches away from her skin. She caught a glimpse of Trevor’s surprised face right before the shield around her fist hit. Her mind seemed to stop working for a second, unable to process what she was seeing. Time slowed with Trevor standing fully through the door, with Hilda almost on top of him, her fist already halfway towards his face. The look of surprise on Trevor’s face was nearly enough to overwhelm her own surprise at recognizing him.

The shield made contact. The magic inside her went flooding out through the shield, followed quickly by a sound like electricity arcing. The shield pulsed a bright blue, and then winked out. It all happened in less than a second, and Trevor was sent flying back through the door. His hat went flying off his head, and he came down on his back in the dirt, with the hat landing a few feet away from him. He groaned faintly from the ground, sounding dazed. Hilda came screeching to a halt in the doorway, looking out with horrified awe.

Horror, because she worried she may have seriously hurt him. But awestruck because of the awesome power she had unleashed. If only she could get the shield to activate on command. She shook herself, and walked forward quickly. The powerful fear that had griped her had lost its potency quickly, and was already fading into memory. In fact, she tried as hard as she could to forget the horrible feelings of terrified helplessness, shoving them as far away as she could.

She reached Trevor's side, and stooped down, looking at him. He appeared ok - though unconscious.Trevor. Here. It didn’t seem possible, and yet here he was. It was truly one of the last things she ever would have expected. She hadn’t seen him since her last day at school, a little over a week ago. It felt like much longer - lifetimes seemed to have passed since then. Nothing in her mind could reconcile with the fact that Trevor was in front of her. There was no string of logic she could find, no way it made sense. Shrugging to herself, she leaned over him and shook his arm gently.

“Trevor? Are you alright? Sorry for… doing that to you. You just surprised me.”

He didn’t stir. She tried nudging him a few more times, but without any success. She sighed, standing. She looked around, weighing her options. She couldn’t exactly leave him here, but she didn’t love the idea of dragging him inside either. The chill night air eventually made up her mind for her, and she reached down to pick him up, but found it more difficult then she expected. He was heavy. She vaguely remembered hoisting Harold above her head in the witches tower, but she for whatever reason she couldn’t manage it at that moment, so she settled for just dragging him across the ground. It was harder then she expected, and she tired quickly.

She stopped for a breath once inside the door, and opened a small tear, letting the energy renew her strength. A thought occurred to her as she reached down to start dragging him. She could change her own weight with magic, could she change someone else’s? Frowning, she tried it. The magic resisted slightly, but with a small push it flowed into him, and trying to pick him up again, she found him nearly weightless. Had she done something similar with her father in the witches tower subconsciously? She wasn’t sure, so she just carried him further into Woodman’s cottage, and dumped him unceremoniously on the couch. She started walking away, but realized that she shouldn’t just leave him weightless.

She wasn’t sure how much longer it would last, and it would cause some awkward questions if he woke up while it was still active. She touched his arm again, and pulled the energy back. She didn’t get much back, so it probably wouldn’t have lasted much longer, but better safe then sorry. She walked back to the door, ready to close it, but noticed Trevors hat sitting in the dirt just outside the door. She walked over to it, and picked it up, looking it over idly. It was much as she remembered, stained and ratty. She flipped it over, and as she did, something slipped out of the inside, falling to the ground. She picked it up, and found it to be a small folded piece of paper. It too was stained, and looked as ratty as the hat, with corners missing, and a large tear down one end. ‘Trevor’ was written on the front in fancy lettering, in a rich black ink.

A note of some kind. She started unfolding it, but stopped, feeling guilty. She walked back inside, and shut the door behind her - this time making sure to lock it - and walked to the kitchen. She sat at the table, still looking the note over. The guilt was battling with her innate curiosity. After all, it would be rude to invade his privacy like this, but then again, he had barged into a random house.

He was rude first, this is only fair. She reasoned to herself, then eagerly unfolded the note. She found a short note, in the same flowing letters.

Happy Birthday Trevor! I’m dreadfully sorry I couldn’t tell you in person, but this silly doctor insists I stay at the hospital for a few more days - It’s nothing serious I assure you. Hopefully this hat will make it up to you, I made it myself! Maybe it will come in handy this winter. You could use it to stay warm when you go out and play in the snow - I know how much you love too. Don’t stay out too long though, your mom will get worried. I know you haven’t been getting along recently, but keep trying your best. I’m sure it will work out in the end.

- With Love, Grandma

Hilda finished reading the note and immediately felt guilty, she was prying where she shouldn’t. She folded the note back up, and placed it back inside the hat. There was a little lip that she guessed it had sat in before. She started walking back to the couch, carrying the hat gingerly. She checked on him, finding him still unconscious. Trevor appeared to be sleeping peacefully, though it was hard to tell when his face was always plastered with a nasty sneer. She left the hat next to him, and walked back to her chair, sitting with a long sigh. She folded her arms, considering Trevor carefully. The same question as before rattled around her mind. How? How had Trevor found her? He had obviously known she was in here. As far as she knew, there were only 2 other people who knew she was here. Her father, and Woodman.

Had Harold sent Trevor to deliver a message of some kind? She couldn’t imagine how they would have met, or why Trevor would have accepted. There was no love lost between them, in fact there seemed to be out right animosity coming from Trevor most of the time. Woodman did what he wanted, but she also failed to see a reason he would have told Trevor to come out here. None of it made sense. The witches could have sent him, but that also seemed unlikely. If they knew were she was, they wouldn’t waste time sending Trevor, the would just storm in. Could somebody else have sent him? She racked her brain, trying to come up with any answer - no matter how unlikely. Nothing came to mind. She stood back up, picking the book up off the floor where it had fallen earlier, looking for something to distract herself with. She sat back on the chair, pulling her legs up onto the chair with her - getting as cozy as her present circ*mstances would allow.

The illusion was starting to feel tiring, so she she concentrated and attached it to a small tear directly. She She opened the book, and found her spot. She found it hard to focus on it however, and she found her eyes wandering up to look at Trevor. when Trevor started stirring. He let out a low groan, and shifted slightly. Hilda stood, setting the book down, and thinking quickly, placed a cushion over it. She walked over to him, and stooped down in front of him. She hesitantly reached out, and nudged his arm. He let out another groan, and brought a hand up to his face, rubbing his forehead. He blinked open bleary eyes, looking all around.

“What happened?” He muttered groggily, then his eyes landed on Hilda. Immediately his expression of groggy confusion went into his familiar sneer.

“You.” He muttered. Hilda sighed. What had she expected?

“Hello Trevor.” She said, standing up straight and folding her arms.

“What happened?” He asked again, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his palm.He suddenly felt at his head, and his expression turned to panic.

"And where's my hat?" He cried, looking all around. Hiseyes fell on the hat next to him on the armrest, where Hilda had left it, and he let out a relieved breath. He carefully dusted it off, then placed it on his head like it was made of glass. Hilda raised her eyebrow at the odd behavior. The note explained some of it, but it was still just a hat.

"What happened?" he asked again, looking back to her.

“I, uh… knocked you out.” Hilda said, praying he didn’t remember a strange blue shield around her. He had only gotten a split second look at it, but that was the kind of thing that stuck in someones mind.

“You knocked me out?” He said, almost laughing.

“Yes I did.” Hilda said, sticking her chin out slightly. “It shouldn’t be that hard to accept.”

So what if she had a little help from magic? She’d still put him down fair and square.

“Right, sure. Whatever you say.” Trevor said, still chuckling though he had clearly stopped paying attention. Hilda was left to grind her teeth in frustration. She was tempted to ask him what he thought had happened - if she hadn’t knocked him out. She probably shouldn’t have him think about it though, she didn’t need any awkward questions. It still dug at her however. How was he so perfectly horrible all the time? It was like everything he said was trying to one up the last on how rude it was. He was looking all around, taking in the cabin with curiosity. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Woodman’s many self portraits on the far wall.

“This place is weird…” He muttered. “Perfect for you.” He said, with a nasty tone. Hilda stiffened.

That’s it.

“Well nobody asked you to come!” Hilda shouted, throwing her hands up. “And lets not forget that you just waltzed in unannounced! What are you even doing out here anyway?”

“Looking for you, obviously.” He said, the familiar sneer creeping back in.

“What? Why were you looking for me?” She said, taken aback.

“I wasn’t!” He said hastily. His cheeks flushed a bit, and continued quickly.

“You’re friends came out here looking, and they wanted some extra muscle.”

“Really.” Hilda said flatly. “You expect me to believe Frida and David, asked you for help?”

While Hilda didn’t care for Trevor, she tried to keep herself at least civil. Emphasis on ‘tried’. David on the other hand, was outright hostile - mostly on her behalf. Frida wasn’t much better, though she never outright said anything. Trevor just looked to the side, squirming a bit.

“In a way.” He finally said.

“It doesn’t matter. Look, we need to go save them.”

“Save them?” Hilda asked, taken aback even further. “From what?”

Trevor had the audacity to shrug. “How should I know? I’m sure you know more about that thing then I do.”

Hilda waited for further explanation, but Trevor just looked at her expectantly.

“What ‘thing’?” She finally asked.

“You know, the monster.” He said, gesturing like that would somehow help her understand. Hilda just stared at him blankly. He let out a long sigh, and explained in detail about how himself, David and Frida had set out looking for her earlier, after an encounter with a strange creature in the city that morning. Then an an even stranger creature in the forest later on. A horrible twisted thing, made of an oily black substance that Trevor described as:

“Disgusting to look at, and even worse to touch.”

The story went on to mention a SP officer, which she raised an eyebrow at. What was the security patrol doing out here? He finished by saying only he had escaped.

“So anyway, we gotta go save everyone from that thing!” He finally finished, taking long breath, and pointing to the door. Hilda stared at him for a long while, trying to figure out what was going on. She didn’t believe him, that was for sure. Weird nightmare monsters was one thing, but even more unbelievable was Trevor teaming up with David and Frida. So what was it then? This was a trick, it had to be. Maybe it had something to do with the witches, or maybe Trevor was just trying to prank her or something, but it was a trick.

“I don’t believe you.” She said, sticking her chin out slightly.

“What?” Trevor said, like he couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“I don’t believe you.” Hilda repeated, folding her arms in defiance. He threw his hands up, looking away in frustration.

“Why not?” He asked, running his hands over his face.

“Well, for one thing, if my friends had come out here looking for me, why would you of all people tag along? And it seems pretty convenient that only you were able to escape from this ‘monster’.”

“Convenient?” He asked, voice going incredulous. His face went red, and he stood suddenly, dwarfing her by several inches. Hilda starred up at him defiantly, and tried not to feel intimidated.

“I fought the damn thing with a stick, and you wanna talk about convenience? You’ve been sitting in this cushy cabin all week, letting people worry over you, and for what?”

He shouted, the sneer well and truly back.

Hilda just shrugged. “So you say. I still don’t believe you. David and Frida are far to intelligent to spend all day wandering the woods looking for me.” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep a tinge of bitterness out of her voice.

“Too intelligent?” He said, voice now near a shout. “If they were intelligent, the would have stopped associating with you a long time ago, for their own good!”

He starred at her for a moment, and she expected more shouting, but instead he let out a long breath, forcibly calming himself - almost seeming to shrink down. When he resumed, his voice was quieter, though his body language still told of boiling anger.

“They spent all day looking for you, because they were worried. They hiked miles into the forest the day before the last week of school without a second thought, just because they thought you needed their help. They care about you a lot. Maybe you should learn to appreciate that. Not everyone is so lucky.”

Hilda was taken aback, and didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t think she’d ever heard something like this from Trevor. She genuinely hadn’t thought him capable of recognizing a sentiment like that. And maybe… Maybe he was right. Assuming he was telling the truth at any rate - which she still wasn’t sure about.

“I still don’t see why you’d come along.” She finally managed, needing to say something.

“I came with those other two idiots cause I knew you’d get them in trouble - and likely get them killed!” He said, back to shouting, throwing his hands up again.

“And I was right! If it wasn’t for me - not to mention that bell keeper - they probably would have been!”

At the word ‘Bellkeeper’, Hilda felt her heart jump. There was only one Bellkeeper it could be.

“Bellkeeper? What Bellkeeper?” She asked, growing excited. Trevor looked at her like she was being stupid.

“What does that matter? He’s just some -” He cut off suddenly, co*cking his head like he'd just remembered something.

“He knew you were here.” He said slowly after a prolonged silence. His eyes narrowed, and he looked at her suspiciously. “He told me exactly where to find you. Why did he know that?”

He told Trevor where I was? Why would he do that? Why isn’t he here?

Trevor stared at her expectant, but Hilda remained silent, her mind racing. Her father had told Trevor where she was, which would explain how he had found her. Was he alright? Why hadn’t he come himself? She walked away from Trevor absently, and started pacing, trying to think.

“Don’t ignore me!” Trevor said, indigent. Hilda did just that, still trying to work out what was going on. Trevor walked in front of her, glaring at her. She glared right back up at him, wishing he would leave her alone for a moment so she could think. His expression slowly softened - gradually going from an angry glare, into something more akin to confused concern.

“Are you… alright?” He asked, sounding awkward. She just raised any eyebrow, still glaring. His cheeks flushed and he looked away in agitation.

“I just - I mean, you seem… different. That’s all.” He folded his arms, and pointedly didn’t look at her.

Is everyone going to tell me that I ‘seem different’?

Hilda thought, frustrated.

“Why did he tell you where I am?” She finally asked, ignoring the previous statement. Asking this question was a gamble, she knew. It confirmed that she knew ‘The Bellkeeper’, which could come back to bite her. But she also desperately wanted to know what had happened to her dad.

“He, uh… He got hurt.” Trevor said, still not looking at her. He wilted slightly, like he was ashamed.

“We were fighting the monster while the other two escaped. I got hit hard, and he - The bellkeeper I mean - distracted the thing long enough for me to get away. It got him pretty good though, and stuck him a tree somehow, and then went off to chase down the other two. I tried to cut the bellman loose, but it was hard stuff, and he was in bad shape.”

Hilda’s breath caught, but Trevor didn’t appear to notice.

“He told to get away while I could, and told me where this cabin was - and that you’d be here.”

“You just left him there? Alone with a monster?” Hilda said, growing angry. She expected Trevor to grow heated again as well, as he normally would. Instead, he wilted even further, and left his eyes on the floor.

“Yes.” He finally said, tone dejected. Hilda wanted to yell more, but forcibly stopped herself with a deep breath.

“Ok.” Hilda said after a moment of silence.

“Ok?” Trevor asked, confused.

“Lets go.” Hilda said, moving away from him. They would need a few things to go trapping around the forest at this time of night. She was pretty sure she had seen some flashlights and coats in Woodman’s spare room.

“What?” Trevor called from behind, dashing to catch up to her.

“I thought you didn’t believe me.” He said, tone accusational.

“You convinced me.” Hilda said flatly, opening the door to the spare room and flipping the light switch on. She still wasn’t sure this wasn’t some sort of trick. This was the perfect bait for a trap, but if Harold really was hurt out there with some monster on the loose… Well she had to at least try.

“What, because of the Bell man?” Trevor said, sounding confused. Hilda didn’t answer. She spotted an older looking flashlight lying on top of a pile of other random things. She fished it out, and checked it, pleasantly surprised to see it working. On her way out she grabbed two nice looking coats off a pile of clothes. She tossed one to Trevor, who caught it awkwardly. She brushed past him and flipped the light off. She pulled the other coat on as she stalked back across the living room, making for the front door. Trevor stepped forward quickly, and stood in front of the door folding his arms, blocking her path.

“Who is this guy?” He asked, looking down at her derisively. “Why do you care so much?”

Hilda remained silent, staring up at him cooly. Trevor glared right back, and they stood in silence for a moment. Trevor eventually just rolled his eyes and sighed.

“You’re really annoying, you know that?” He said, stepping aside. Hilda just pushed past him, and threw the door open. The chill night air her instantly, but she barely felt it through the warm coat. She stepped out, followed quickly by Trevor, who grumbled something about wandering about in the cold - even though this had all been his idea. She flicked the flash light on, illuminating the ground in a soft yellow beam.

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking back at Trevor. He shrugged, and motioned vaguely to the west.

“Somewhere over there, I think.”

Hilda growled in frustration. “You don’t know?”

Trevor held his hands up defensively. “Hey it was dark, and I was running away from a monster! Sorry I didn’t take the time to map out every step. Sheesh!”

Hilda just shook her head. Shining the beam around until she saw a few footprints, leading towards the trees.

“Fine. We’ll just follow these for now.” She started walking, though she had another idea in mind. She started focusing on her connections, but found it difficult while walking, so she stopped in place, closing her eyes. Much like before, she started picturing her friends, and her home.

“What are we waiting for?” Trevor interrupted, sounding impatient.

Hilda shushed him without opening her eyes. He grumbled something, but kept quiet. It was harder then last time, but after a few seconds she got the lines to appear. She started looking for David or Frida, touching some of the larger lines, and quickly found David. Fear seemed to radiate of the line, like heat from a furnace. Choking and all encompassing. She pushed the emotion aside, that wasn’t what she was looking for. Instead, she tried to get a sense of his location, like she had felt with Twig. It was elusive, like a singe drop of flavor in a gallon of water. It was there however, though much more vague than it had been with Twig. But… He was close, and they were heading in the right direction. That at least confirmed some of what Trevor had told her.

“What are you doing?” Trevor asked, almost breaking Hilda’s concentration. She glared over at him, but was surprised to find a golden line connecting them. It wasn’t large, but it was bigger then she would have expected.

“Nothing.” She said, realizing how odd this must look to him. To him, she was just reaching out into thin air and grabbing nothing repeatedly. She flushed, turning away from him. Just another thing for him to tease her over. The lines slowly faded away as she stopped focusing on them - all but the line between her and Trevor. This one took very little concentration to keep visible - she wasn’t sure why, though she suspected it had something to do with him standing right next to her. She started walking again, and causally brushed the line with a finger. The feelings were vague, but there was definitely nervousness - and a lot of it. And strangely, a good bit of it was directed towards her. Or not her, but… something to do with her? She couldn’t quite tell, the connection not strong enough.

She had assumed he just hated her, but this felt more like someone who had wandered into a bear den, and was trying very hard to not make the bear angry. There were other feelings in the line, but with the limited connection they were hard to pick out. It was like trying to pick a specific instrument out of an orchestra - but the orchestra was playing two rooms over. She considered the feelings as they walked in silence, trying to define them. It took awhile, but after ten or so minutes she decided the best word to describe his feelings was ‘uncomfortable’. She unexpectedly felt sorry for him, which almost didn’t seem fair considering how mean he had constantly been to her. But she couldn’t help it, and she tried to think of a way to ease some of the tension. The only thing that came to mind was small talk, but the idea of making small talk with Trevor was abhorrent. Like making small talk with an ornery troll.

To be fair, you’ve done that several times.

She groaned internally, but in the end, her conscious won out.

“So…” She said, letting the word hanging in the air, foolishly hoping he might start something.

“So?” He asked blankly. She sighed, that was about what she had expected.

“How are… things?” She asked, rubbing the bridge of her nose with hand. She tried to make her tone friendly, but the best she could manage was a sort of bored disinterest. The kind of voice that said ‘I’d rather talk to you then a rock, but only barely.’

“What things?” He asked, sounding confused.

“I don’t know Trevor.” Hilda said, throwing her hand up in frustration “Anything, it doesn’t matter. I’m just making conversation.”

“Oh.” Was all he said.

He’s really not making this easy. Why am I even bothering? We're on ourway to rescue my father and friends from a monster, this ishardly the time for smalltalk!

Despite her own objections, she found herself pressing on.

“Did I miss anything important at school?” She asked, trying another tactic.

“Not really.” He said dismissively. “Just test prep for finals tomorrow.”

“Oh!” Hilda said. “I totally forgot those were coming!” She vaguely remembered some of the teachers saying something about finals before she left, but they had seemed so far away.

“Seems like a lot of people did.” Trevor said with a frown. “But I wouldn't worry. They’ll be a breeze - even for you.”

Hilda chose not to ignore the barb. Trevor was (unfortunately) fairly studios. He was no Frida, but he got decent grades from everything she heard. Better then her own, actually - which admittedly, wasn’t hard to do. She normally would have been excited at the prospect of school ending soon, but she felt so detached from it all. She found herself struggling to summon any emotion towards it at all. What did school matter when there were witches hunting you?

“So…” Trevor said, after a minute or two of silence.

“So?” Hilda asked, smiling to herself. She felt a petulant satisfaction; giving him a taste of his own medicine.

“What have you been up to out here all this time?” His voice was casual, but Hilda could tell he was very curious.

“Not much.” She said honestly. “Just enjoying sometime away from the city.” That wasn’t quite as honest, but she wasn’t about to explain the whole situation.

“Uh huh.” Trevor said, clearly unconvinced. Hilda just shrugged, not really caring if he believed her or not. They silence resumed, but when she touched the line of connection again, it seemed to have worked - at least a little. They walked on, though the trail of footprints had long run out. Occasionally, Trevor would point at some tree, or boulder and say something like

“That looks familiar.” Or “I remember that!” Or “I think I came this way earlier.”

Other than that, it was up to Hilda to guide them by the vague sense of David's location.

“I think we’re getting close.” Trevor finally said. It was maybe half an hour since they had left the cabin, which made Hilda wonder how long it had taken Trevor to find his way there in the dark. Trevor was about to say something else, when a sudden ear shaking scream sounded out in the night. It was distant, but it was like nothing Hilda had ever heard before. It sounded like multiple voices overlapping, screaming the same horrible note in unison. Like the worlds creepiest choir.

“What was that?” Hilda cried, scanning the trees for movement.

“That’s the monster!” Trevor replied. He grabbed her by the arm, and started towing her towards some nearby bushes. They jumped in, and Hilda switched the flashlight off. It took her eyes a moment to adjust, and she could only barely see in the moonless night. They waited in tense silence, but nothing happened.

“I don’t see anything, do you?” Hilda whispered.

“I can’t see anything at all.” Trevor grumbled, and Hilda felt foolish. Her eyes were much better then his now, and without a moon, he probably couldn’t see his hand in front of his face.

“I don’t think it’s coming this way though.” Trevor said “It just likes to scream now and then.”

Hilda didn’t feel so sure. That scream had been very off putting. Not that she was scared. She did flick the flashlight back on, as they climbed out.

“And according to Frida, it’s only attracted to magic anyway.” Trevor said, off handedly.

Hilda froze, and felt the blood drain from her face.

“It’s attracted to magic?” She asked, voice quiet.

“That’s what Frida said.” Trevor said, shrugging.

Hilda was suddenly all too aware of the illusion she wore. She couldn’t exactly drop it though, not with Trevor right there. Trevor glared at her, co*cking his head.

“Is that a problem?”

“Nope!” Hilda said, trying to sound cheery. Her mind raced for a solution. Could they split up? That could work, but… She shivered, remembering the scream. She’d rather stick together. She could leave the illusion up, and let the thing find her - though that sounded just as bad. She hadn’t really made a plan for what to do about a nightmarish monster, but she generally tried to avoid confrontation. An idea formed. It didn’t seem great, but it was all she had. She subtly flicked the flashlight off.

“Oh no.” She said, trying to sound distraught. She smacked the flashlight against her hand.“The battery must have died."

It sounded lame to her own ears, but luckily Trevor seemed convinced.

“Really?” Trevor said, his voice higher pitched then normal. He coughed, clearing his throat.

“Let me see it.” He said gruffly. Hilda was in the middle of quietly removing the battery. She hadxpected him to say something like that. She handed it over, unable to contain a devious grin - which was hidden in the dark. He fiddled with it for a minute but eventually gave up.

“Well now what? I can’t see a thing!” He asked, staring around blindly. It was dark to Hilda, but she could still see their surroundings clearly.

“I can.” Hilda said, grabbing him by the shoulder and walking.

“How? It’s pitch-black out here!”

“Hmm, maybe you should get your eye checked.” Hilda said, only half paying attention to him. Her mind was too occupied with what came next.

Here we go.

“Hold on a second.” She said, and let go of his shoulder. She took a deep breath, and let the illusion drop. She held her breath, waiting for Trevor to cry out, and witches to pour out around them. Nothing happened. Trevor continued to look around blankly.

“Hilda?” He asked, voice quavering. “Where’d you go?”

“Right here.” She said, with a silent breath of relief. . “Just had to, uh, tie my shoe. Here, grab my arm. I’ll guide you.” She carefully guided his hand onto her shoulder, ignoring his grumbles. She was extra careful to make sure she didn’t accidentally brush him with her tail, or the scales on her forearms. Once secured, they pressed on into the dark cold night.

Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Leading Trevor through the dark was surprisingly difficult. Every few steps she had to lead him around a rock, hole, bush, or any other obstacle the forest floor threw at them. Not to mention the low hanging branches. He smacked his head against those twice before Hilda started watching for them. Their progress was slow but steady. She couldn’t get the connection line to come up while moving, but she was pretty sure they were still heading in the right direction. Suddenly, something made a strange, plasticky, crunching sound - completely unlike the normal sound of leaves, grass, and twigs underfoot. She paused, looking down for the source of the unexpected noise.

“What was that?” Trevor hissed.

“I’m not sure.” Hilda said, stooping down, and inspecting the ground. After a moment of searching she found the culprit. It was hard for her to make it out in the dim light, but after a moment she came back up with a granola bar, still in its packaging - though now severely misshapen.

“It’s a granola bar.” Hilda said, raising an unseen eyebrow.

“Huh.” Trevor said. Then he co*cked his head, thinking. “Are there anymore nearby?”

Hilda looked around and to her surprise she spotted another item laying in the grass nearby.

“Yeah, right there.” She said bewildered.

“There should be a trail of them.” Trevor said, growing excited.

Hilda led them to the next bar, and sure enough, a few feet after that lay another one. They followed the trail of strange items for a dozen feet or so before it ran out.

“That’s it.” Hilda said, still confused.

“It should be right around here somewhere.” Trevor mumbled, getting down and searching for something.

“What are you looking for?” Hilda asked, confused.

“Found it!” Trevor said, holding up a medium sized bag. “This is the Bellmans bag.” He said, as he started digging through the front pocket. Hilda walked up behind him, growing curious. She couldn’t say for certain that it was the same bag she had seen Harold take with him, but it did look vaguely familiar.

“We found it earlier, but didn’t bring it with us. But there were a few things in here that might just - Ah! Here we go.” He pulled something out, that Hilda couldn’t quite see. He fumbled with it for a moment, and then she heard a soft click. A dull yellow beam shot out, and it was revealed to be a vintage flashlight.

“There we go!” He said, standing. He swung the flashlight around, looking at the surroundings. Hilda stood frozen, wide eyed. Another flashlight. She should have thought of that, of course her father would have a flashlight on him! She almost threw on an illusion by instinct, but stopped herself at the last second, remembering the threat of the monster lurking around somewhere. She looked around, searching instead for a suitable hiding spot. If she could get to a tree, she could climb it, or at least get around it. She started creeping backwards, taking painfully slow steps.

“This will make things way easier.” Trevor said, with a good natured chuckle. “I should be able to get us to them from here. We’re pretty close. I think it was this way…”

Hilda barely heard him, too focused on staying silent. She was still only a few feet away from Trevor, but there was a good tree just behind her. If she could just get there… Something under her foot gave a sharp snap, cracking in two. Trevor turned, bringing the beam of the flashlight around to shine onto her. She made a split second decision. She didn’t care if there was a monster around. The illusion took place, just as the beam landed on her. She held her - now human appearing hand - up to block it, as she blinked in the dull yellow light.

“Careful with that thing!” She said, annoyed. Trevor’s response was cut off by horrific scream. Hilda jumped, and let out a yelp. Trevor cursed, turning to look in the direction the sound had come. It came again, slightly closer, and Hilda thought she could distantly hear thumping footsteps - rapidly approaching them. She cursed under her breath. She had hoped they were far enough away, but apparently she wasn’t so lucky.

“We need to go. It must have heard us, or seen the light or something.” Trevor said, looking around grimly.

Yeah, or something.

Hilda thought, guiltily. Trevor started moving, heading the opposite direction of the approaching thumps. Hilda stayed where she was, the full gravity of her situation sinking in. If she kept the illusion up, the monster would find them. If she dropped it, Trevor would see her. And just like that, she found herself trapped.

“Come ON!” Trevor shouted, and grabbed her roughly by the wrist. Without fully realizing it, she found herself being towed behind him as they ran.

“Wait, hold on!” She tried to say, but her words were lost as another scream sounded out behind them, much closer this time. Trevor led them on a desperate scramble through the dark forest, the bobbing flashlight beam as their only illumination. Hilda pulled her hand free with a yank, and tried to slowly fall behind. The steadily growing thumping sound behind kept her solidly on Trevor’s heels. She wasn’t sure what it was, buy she was sure that she did not want to meet that thing. And so they ran on - the thumping growing steadily behind them. Soon she was outpacing Trevor, and he started falling behind, face red with exertion, breath coming out in ragged gasps. They came to a stop, Trevor gasping and Hilda barely winded.

The thumping was growing louder, and from the look on Trevors face he could hear it now too.

“Hide somewhere.” Hilda said, thinking fast. “I’ll distract it.”

It was the perfect solution. As soon as she was out of sight, she could drop the illusion. She started to run off, but Trevor caught her arm.

“Wait.” He gasped, still breathing deeply.

Hilda turned back annoyed. She was ready to tell him that she would be fine, and that this was the best way. The words died in her mouth when she saw the fear in his eyes. His expression was stern, and otherwise he hid his fear well, but she knew he was terrified. She battled with her conscience for a moment, but she knew it was a lost cause. She couldn’t leave him alone like this.

She looked around frantically for any other solution, and curiously, another idea came to her. It was sensing her magic. So, what if she made a larger source of magic for it to chase? They would need somewhere to hide though… She spotted a large dead oak tree, a few yards away, with an opening about halfway up.

“We can hide in there!” She shouted, pointing, as she grabbed Trevor and dragging him towards it. As they ran - Trevor gasping behind her - she spotted a fallen log in their way that would work nicely. She filled herself nearly full with another tear, causing another scream from behind. She slowed, letting Trevor pass her, and brushed her fingers on the log as they passed, making it near weightless. She pushed as much magic as she could into it, hopefully it would work. In front of her, Trevor reached the tree, and started climbing up the side furiously. He wriggled through the opening and disappeared inside. Hilda reached it a moment later, and dove straight for the hole. Her aim was bad, and she smashed her shoulder into one of the sides, but barely noticed it through the adrenaline. She wriggled through, and fell inside with a thud. Trevor switched the light off, breathing shakily. The inside of the oak was surprisingly roomy, maybe two paces across, leaving plenty of room for both Hilda and Trevor to stand straight up. The floor of the room was higher then the ground outside, leaving them about eye level with the opening. The thumping drew nearer, and Hilda finally got her first look at the monster.

It looked ridiculous. It stood on eight spindly legs, that were connected too a large oval like body the size of a compact car. It glistened an oily black in the moonlight. There was no head, but it definitely seemed to have a front. It looked like something she might have drawn as a child, with lines in the wrong places, and the overall proportions simply…wrong. It paused, ever so briefly as it passed the magic filled log, subtly floating a few inches off the ground. It turned away from it, and looked directly at her. It didn’t have eyes, but Hilda could feel it’s attention shift towards her. It started moving towards them slowly, like it knew they were cornered.

“What’s happening?” Trevor hissed from beside her, looking out blindly. She shushed him hurriedly, though it didn’t seem like it would matter. The clouds above shifted, and pure moonlight suddenly illuminated the forest around them. To Hilda, it now appeared almost as bright as day, though Trevor would probably still have trouble seeing much. She did hear his breath catch as he saw the hulking form approach them slowly. She grit her teeth. Why hadn’t the distraction worked? It had clearly noticed it.

It’s because it can still sense my illusion, it’s still following me instead!

The monster approached slowly, and Hilda was forced to make a decision. She backed away from the entrance, stepping around Trevor - who was staring out the entrance grimly. She backed as far as she could, then, with a shaky breath, she dropped the illusion. The creature stopped instantly. It hesitated for a moment, looking around seemingly confused. It let out another scream, loud enough to make branches above shake and rattle, some leaves falling to the ground. it suddenly spun around and attacked the floating log. It smashed into it with it’s bulbous body, then struck it repeatedly with it’s legs, splintering the log into scrap. Hilda was surprised by the ferocity and speed, they seemed at total odds with the goofy proportions. Small golden orbs streamed from it, and into the monster. There wasn’t much - most of the magic having seeped out of the log before the violent outburst. The creature still flashed golden for a moment, and Hilda could swear it was slightly bigger after. It turned all about, seeming to look in every direction. It gave another scream - and Hilda could swear it sounded frustrated this time - before slowly thumping back the way it had come. Hilda watched it go with a sigh of relief, but as fast as the relief came, another worry took it’s place. She was completely exposed. Trevor crept forward, into the moonlight. He waited a few tense seconds, before finally turning back. Hilda tensed, but he looked back blindly, unable to see her in the dark.

“It’s gone.” He said, his voice bewildered. Hilda could still faintly make out the retreating thumping.

“Weird.” Trevor said, looking in the direction of the log. “Well, come on. Lets move.”

Hilda pulled back further into the hollow oak, though there really wasn’t any further to go. Could she get around him somehow? She could vividly imagine pushing past him over and running out into the forest. The treacherous moonlight was so bright, he would certainly see her. It was her only chance though. If he just took a few more steps, she could slip by.

“Hilda?” He called back, turning back and squinting.

“Are you coming?”

“Uh, yeah. Give me just a minute.”

“Uh, ok…” He said, not moving.

“You can run ahead, I’ll catch up.” It was worth a shot, as unlikely as it was to work.

He chuckled nervously, looking out into night with worry. “That’s alright, I can wait a bit.”

“No really, I’ll be right behind you.” She said, trying harder. Trevor co*cked his head, and again tried to make her out in the darkness.

“Is everything alright?” He finally asked.

“Yep!” Hilda said quickly. “Just gotta… tie my shoe… again.”

“Uh huh.” He said, sounding unconvinced.

His hand went for the flashlight at his waist, and Hilda panicked.

“Don’t.” She said instinctively, voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat hurriedly.

“That thing might see the light, I mean.” She hoped her voice wouldn’t betray the nervousness she felt. Trevor turned back, looking outside. This was her chance. She just had to push past him and run. She took a step froward, but he turned back.

“It’s gone, it’ll be fine.” He said, unclipping the light. Hilda froze, panic building.

“Don’t.” She pleaded, her voice quiet. There was nothing else she could do.

Trevor’s frown deepened.

“Why?” He asked, simply.

“Just -” Hilda said, growling, running her hand down in her face. “Just don’t. Please?”

He slowly pulled the flashlight up, and pointed it up.

“No, please don’t!” Hilda begged, her voice catching. It felt like a nightmare in realtime, more vivid then even a Marra could create. He switched the light on. It shone straight at her, momentarily blinder her and illuminating the entire space quite well. His eyes went wide when he saw her, and he let out a shrill scream. The flashlight fell to the floor as Hilda leapt forward, clapping a clawed hand over his mouth - worried that the monster really might come back. He continued his muffled shout until she held a finger up to her mouth.

“Would you shut up? Do you want that thing coming back over here?” His shout died. She slowly removed her hand, hovering it over his mouth for a moment in case he started again. After a few seconds of silence, she took a step back. Trevor stared with wide eyes, completely frozen. Hilda stared back, the dread slowly fading. This wasn’t so bad. In fact, now that the tense moment was over, something else was taking it’s place. Her hands slowly balled into fists, and she felt some color rise to her cheeks as a powerful anger started taking hold.

“You just had to look didn’t you?” Hilda said, throwing her hands up. Trevor remained silent. She scooped up the flashlight, beginning to pace back and forth.

“Heaven forbid you don’t be the worst for once! But noooo ‘I’m Trevor and I have to do everything possible to make your life harder!’” She said, pitching her voice down in a mock imitation of his. He still just stared, bug eyed. Hilda didn’t really care, she was just venting now.

“After all that work, leading you through the forest in the dark, just for it not to matter in the end. I mean what are the odds of finding another flashlight anyway?” Her voice cracked. All the stress, anxiety, fear, and dread she had felt throughout the night seemed to be peaking.

“And of course it can sense magic! Why wouldn’t it? Why would anything be easy for me?” Her voice was getting louder, but she didn’t notice.

“This whole mess has been nothing but disaster after disaster! But what else was I supposed to do? She told me I was gonna die if I didn’t accept this!” Her breath came fast and raggedly, to the point she found it hard to speak. A small part of her knew she was turning hysterical. She kept going anyway.

“And everything since has just been one mess after another! I feel like this week has lasted an entire year, and it just keeps going and going! Now theres a monster, and you’re going to tell the witches where I am, and my dads gonna die out there, and - and - !”

The flashlight slide from her grasp. She suddenly felt weak, now that her unspoken worry finally out in the open. She had been pushing that one aside ever since Trevor had told her, but she couldn’t hide from it anymore. She fell back against the inside to the tree, and slowly slid to the ground gasping for air as sobs racked her body. All the thoughts she had been pushing to the side for the last week and suddenly bubbled up and completely overwhelmed her. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wishing she could hide from it all. Trevor remained silent, looking on from the entrance with a mixture of confusion and discomfort. Annoyance flared up within her suddenly.

“Why are you still here?” She shouted between sobs. He flinched, stepping back. She didn’t wait to see what he did next, and just let her head hang down, crying softly. She wanted him to leave, or she wanted to be safe at home, or maybe she just wanted everything to be ok. She heard the soft crunch of leaves as Trevor stepped forward. Her head snapped up, and she glared at him. He shied back, but didn’t retreat. He swallowed, but took another hesitant step forward. He slowly got down, and sat against the inside of the tree next to her. He picked the flashlight up from where she had dropped it, and played with it idly, looking extremely uncomfortable. Hilda turned away from him, still crying softly. He didn’t say anything, which Hilda greatly appreciated. She wished she could be alone, but silence was the next best thing. He did however, eventually ruin it by opening his mouth.

“I won’t tell anyone.” He said quietly.

“And I’m…” His face contorted, like he was tasting something sour.

“Sorry.” He finally spat out. He said the word like he was trying something unfamiliar, a word in a language he didn’t speak.

“For ignoring you, I mean.” His face flushed, and he looked away.

“And for always making your life harder.” He finished with a sigh. Hilda didn’t say anything, and kept herself busy by silently wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. An apology from Trevor? It was as uncomfortable as it was strange. He wasn’t supposed to apologize, he was the worst! How could she hate him if he wasn’t terrible? The silence returned, broken by an occasional sniff from Hilda. It lasted a few minutes before Trevor broke it again.

“You mentioned your dad…” He said, seeming to choose his words carefully. Hilda glared back over at him again. She really didn’t want to talk about that. Trevor gulped, shying back again. His face even went a little pale. Hilda would have found it funny, if not for… well, everything.

“The Bell-man, I take it?” He asked, voice sounding strained. Hilda simply nodded, sniffing softly. There didn’t seem to be any reason to lie about it. Trevor just nodded back, then pointedly looked away from her. Hilda glared at his head, wishing she had something she could yell at him for. Instead she just wiped her face with her shoulder, trying not to imagine how embarrassing she looked right then.

As if things weren’t bad enough, now I’m ugly crying in front of Trevor.

“He’s a brave man.” Trevor said, still not facing her. “And I’d say he cares about you a lot.”

Hilda didn’t miss the hint of bitterness in his voice at those words.

“Come on.” He said, rising slowly. He held a hand out to her. “Let’s go rescue him.”

She frowned at the hand, not taking it.

“Fine.” He sighed. “We can save the others too.” He waggled his hand, insistent.

“Why are you still here?” Hilda asked instead, her voice hoarse. She had already voiced the question, but before it had simply been something to shout. Now, she was genuinely curious.

“Well, I owe the Bell Keeper - your dad, I mean, for one thing.” Trevor said, letting the hand drop.

“And for another, I’m supposed to -” He cut off mid sentence, mouth hanging open.

“I uh, have nothing better to do.” He said, looking away.

He put his hand back out, the previous hesitance seemingly gone.

Hilda frowned, studying his face. He gave a nervous smile back, but something was off. He was lying. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. Should she press the issue? It seemed like he had been about to reveal something important just then… But maybe it wouldn’t be the best idea to push Trevor right now. She should probably count herself lucky that he hadn’t run out into the woods screaming about a second monster. She slowly reached out, and took the hand. He didn’t flinch, but did raise an eyebrow.

“That feels… odd.” He said, looking at her hand with curiosity.

“What happe-”

“No!” Hilda said cutting him off. “No questions! I am not in the mood.” She pulled her hand free, and stood on her own. Trevor eyed her, but didn’t say anything else, heading for the opening. Once up, she wiped her cheeks one last time, before following Trevor’s confident gait out of the tree. She paused at the edge. Trevor went a few steps before noticing.

“Oh come on. What now?” He said, looking around as if something was about to spring out at him.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Hilda said. The last thing she needed was for him to go around running his mouth. Trevor rolled his eyes.

“I already said I wouldn’t -”

“Not good enough.” Hilda said, interrupting him. “I need you to promise me. This is important, ok? You can’t tell anybody.”

Trevor looked at her for a moment, before finally nodding.

“Ok.”

“Promise me.” She said, feeling suddenly childish. She really didn’t think a promise meant much from him, but it couldn’t hurt. He sighed, his head sagging back.

“Fine, I promise. Happy?”

Hilda just shrugged, and stepped out past him. Trevor grumbled something under his breath, but Hilda couldn’t pick it out. He stepped up next to her quickly. They walked side by side in blissful silence for a few minutes, though new problem quickly arose. Every time Hilda glanced over at Trevor, she could see him starring at her with intrigue. She couldn’t blame him, not really. It wasn’t everyday you saw someone with a tail walking around. As understandable as it was, she did find the attention uncomfortable. She felt like she was being studied under a microscope, with nowhere to hide. She squirmed, feeling his eyes on her until the feeling became unbearable.

“You can stop staring!” She finally burst out, slightly louder then she intended.

“Sorry.” He said, looking away and blushing slightly. “It’s just - Never mind. No questions. ”

“That’s right.” Hilda said. Trevor stopped walking. Hilda turned back to him.

“It’s just…” He said, looking to the side. Hilda growled, putting her hands up to her face.

“Fine!” She snapped. “What?”

“What happened to you?” Trevor asked, eagerly.

Hilda silently ground her teeth. Of course that’s what he would ask. Why had she let him?

“It’s complicated.” She finally said, between clenched teeth. She started walking again, and Trevor had to hurry to match her pace. She ducked under a low hanging branch, trying to get ahead of him.

“Well I’d imagine so.” Trevor said, narrowly missing a rock in his path. “But seriously, what happened?”

“Does it really matter?” Hilda asked, not looking over. Trevor shrugged.

“Maybe not. But I’m curious.”

Hilda stopped, throwing her hands up. She leaned back and starred at the sky for a moment.

“I don’t know!” She finally exclaimed. Trevor raised an eyebrow, but she continued before he could voice the obvious.

“I don’t know how, ok? I just signed a piece of paper and all this -” She motioned down her body “- happened. I don’t understand it, I didn’t want it, I’m just trying to learn to live with it. Alright?”

“Wait, so this -” he gestured vaguely at her “Is a recent thing?”

“Of course it’s a recent thing.” Hilda said, annoyed. “What do you think, I’ve always been like this?” He paused, and actually seemed to consider for a moment.

“I mean, yeah kinda, I’ve always assumed you were hiding something like this. I mean you’ve always been such a freak and…”

He had the audacity to wince. “Sorry, I didn’t -”

Hilda stopped him by putting a clawed finger in front of his nose, her cheeks flushed with anger.

“I should- ! You- ! I- ! Gah!” She sputtered.

Her cheeks flushed further. She balled her hands into fists at her side, and stamped her foot. She spun on her heel and stomped away from him, glowing with rage. How could he be so perfectly horrible all the time? He seemed to have a real knack for one upping himself every-time Hilda thought he’d said the worst thing he could. Just when she’d thought she’d seen another side to him, he went and proved her wrong.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant!” He called, running after. Hilda ignored him, and continued stalking through the trees. A hundred different things to yell back ran through her mind, but she was too mad to even form the words.

“Hilda wait!” Trevor called again. Again, Hilda ignored him. After all of this, after she had stayed behind with him instead of leaving him in the dark, this is what she got in return. Why was she even surprised. Trevor caught up to her, and grabbed her hand from behind, pulling her to a stop.

“Would you just listen for a moment?” He shouted, tone angry. “I’m trying to apologize!”

Hilda ripped her hand free, glaring up at him. “Save it.” She snapped.

“I know how you feel about me. No need to try and spare my feelings.” She turned and continued walking. For the first time that evening, she seemed to have said something that really got under his skin. He seemed to deflate like a balloon, eyes falling to the ground.

“Sorry.” He mumbled anyway.

Hilda didn’t think she’d every seen someone look as morose as he did right then. Despite it all, she couldn’t help by feel sympathetic. She didn’t want to feel any sympathy for him, and in a moment of childishness, she tried to hold on to the retreating anger. It faded anyway. She let out a long sigh, cursing herself.

“It’s fine.” She said, grumbling only slightly. He didn’t look back up, only shrugging. Hilda ground her teeth. But no, if he wanted to sulk, she would let him.

“Where do we go now?” Hilda asked, trying to change the subject. That at last finally seemed to wake him from his stupor. He looked around, shining the flashlight around at the nearby trees and frowning. He turned in every direction, studying their surroundings.

“Huh.” He finally said - his earlier disposition gone completely.

“‘Huh’ what?” Hilda asked, feeling impatient. They had already wasted enough time.

“Where are we?”

Trevor blushed, and he looked to the side. “I don’t know.”

He finally said, voice quiet.

“You don’t know?” Hilda said, throwing her hand out.

“I got all turned around!” He said, defensively. Hilda put her hands over her face, groaning quietly.

“Fine, it’s fine. She muttered, looking up with a sigh. It wasn’t the end of the world, she could use David or Frida’s connection to find them. It would take longer then she would like, but it would work.

“I’ll try and find them.” She said, sitting down, settling down into the grass until she was more or less comfortable. She closed her eyes, and tried to focus on the connections.

“How?” He asked, watching her with interest. Hilda ignored the question, trying to focus.

“You can find them?” Trevor asked a moment later, breaking her concentration.

“Maybe if you stop interrupting!” She snapped back, not opening her eyes. She could practically hear the eye roll as he stalked away. She settled back down again, focusing hard. It was harder knowing Trevor was watching her. She tried her best to put him out of her mind.

“You aren’t even doing anything!” Trevor called. Hilda took a deep breath, ignoring him. After a minute or two of intense focus she was pretty sure she had gotten it. She peaked an eye open, and sure enough, there they were. They gave off the faintest hum, that she hadn’t really noticed before. She started touching the lines one by one, trying to find David or Frida again. The larger lines were easy to search luckily, and she found Frida quickly.

“What are you doing?” Trevor asked suddenly from over her shoulder. She had been so focused she hadn’t noticed him approach. She jumped, and the lines shattered into golden smoke. She glared back up at him, a few nasty things running through her mind, but she didn’t give into her annoyance.

“I’m trying to find them.” She said, sticking her chin out.

“How? You’re just waving you hand around!”

“It’s - !” She started angrily, then she realized how it must look to him. She really would just look like she was just waving her hand in the air, staring at nothing. “

… It’s complicated.” She finished, looking to the side. He rolled his eyes.

“You just love saying that tonight, huh?”

“Well it is!” Hilda said sighing.

“It’s kind of like…” She did her best to think back to what Kona had told her.

“I’m feeling the things I’m connected too. Places, and people. Stuff like that. There’s these glowing lines that I can feel - But I also see them, and…” She trailed off, seeing Trevor’s raised eyebrow.

“Maybe I can show you.” Hilda said, an idea forming. “Sit.” She said, motioning next to her. Trevor eyed her, and hesitantly sat, further away then she had motioned. She sighed, scooting over. She put her hand out in front of herself.

“Give me your hand.”

He eyed her outstretched hand, seeming distrustful. Hilda rolled her eyes, and grabbed his hand from his side, pulling it between them.

“Now give me a second.” She said, closing her eyes again.

“I don’t see anything.” Trevor said after a moment. Hilda shushed him without opening her eyes. It was even harder this time, but after a few seconds she heard the faint humming, and opening her eyes, saw the lines around her yet again. Trevor didn’t appear to see anything. She frowned, disappointed. She had really hoped that would work.

“Woah.” Trevor said suddenly, his eyes going large. Following his gaze, Hilda picked out the line that ran between them from the dozens of others she saw. As she focused on it, the others faded slightly, allowing her to see it more easily. Trevor held out his other hand, hesitantly poking the line with a single finger. His finger passed right through it, and the line remained undisturbed.

“What is that?” He asked, voice awed.

“It’s a connection line.” Hilda said, hiding a smile. “It’s what connects me and you.”

“Connects us?” Trevor said, tone incredulous.

“In a… I don’t know, magical sense. Not literal.” Hilda said, waving a dismissive hand. She could tell by his expression he still didn’t understand.

“Ok it’s like this:” She said, thinking back to Kona’s explanation again.“When you spend time around people, or at places, you build connection with them. You don’t have to like the person or place, though as far as I can tell, that builds it faster.”

“Alright.” He said slowly, though he was still clearly confused. “And you can see them?”

“When I really focus on it.” Hilda said, nodding.

“Why haven’t I heard about it before?” He asked frowning. Hilda shrugged.

“I’d never heard about it until recently, and , most people can’t see them, no matter how hard they try.”

“But you can?” Trevor asked, co*cking his head slightly.

Hilda just raised an eyebrow at him. His eyes flicked down at her tail, then at her clawed hand holding his.

“Right. Never mind.” He said sheepishly. “But how does that help you find the others?”

“I can feel things through the lines. Feelings mostly, but I can get a sort of general sense of their location - on the stronger ones at least.”

“You can read peoples minds?” He stood, pulling his hand free suddenly, and taking a few dancing steps back.

“No.” Hilda said flatly. “Just vague feelings.”

Trevor didn’t seem to like that concept, but he remained quiet. He walked back over and sat back down. He didn’t say anything more, still staring at the small golden line between them, which was fine by Hilda. It gave her the time she needed to find Frida’s line. A wave of emotion came through, but Hilda ignored them. They would only distract her right now. It took time, but she finally picked it out.

“There.” She said, pointing with her other hand absently towards Frida.

“You found them?” He asked, still looking at the line he could see.

“Yeah.” She said nodding. “Come on, they aren’t too far. Maybe a mile that way.”

Trevor reluctantly looked up from the line, looking the way she was pointing. “A mile? We must be way of course.”

“Well that thing did chase us for awhile.” Hilda said with a shrug.

“Yeah.” He muttered. Hilda jumped to her feet, and started moving in the indicated direction. The lines slowly faded around her as she lost focus, but she didn’t mind. Trevor caught up with her a moment later. They moved at a brisk pace through the trees, and Hilda got the feeling he wanted to say something. She kept catching him looking at her, or opening his mouth.

“How big was my line?” He finally asked. “I mean comparatively.”

Hilda raised an eyebrow at the odd question. “larger than I expected.” She answered honestly. “But pretty small overall.” Trevor chewed on that, and didn’t seem to like the answer. Before Hilda could think about that, a distant scream rang out through the forest. They drew up short, listening for more. Another came, and a few seconds another. The tone was different than before.These screams sounded angry.Vengefuleven.

"let's go!" Hilda shouted, taking off in the same direction. Another scream rang out, louder this time. They were getting close. Trevor started lagging behind, puffing hard, but waved her forward when she looked back.

"I'll catch up!" Hilda needed no further encouragement. She was out of sight of him after a few seconds. Another scream rang out. This one sounded odd. Fearful maybe?A sudden strong gust of wind blew past Hilda. It was cold, and smelled like rain. Distantly, she thought she heard thunder.

A storm? Now? That'sunlucky.

A little further, and Hilda spotted a strange glow up ahead.

She soon recognized it as fire light. Alotof fire light. She came to a stop on the edge of a small clearing. On the other side, two trees were burning, almost completely ablaze. Much of the tall grass around the trees was burning too. The monster stood between the trees, completely unfazed by the burning grass that licked at it's spider like legs. That wasn't what drew Hilda's gaze however. David stood a few feet away from the monster, a small knife held in both hands. Frida lay behind him, seemingly unconscious. Behind her, her father sat against a tree. Her heart leapt when she saw him - alive. He was staring up at the monster, his face a mixture of fear and pain. Trevor clomped up behind her a moment later, gasping for breath. He bent over nearly double, sucking in large breaths.

"You're. Pretty. Quick." He said between pants.

"I'll lead the monster away." Hilda said, thinking quickly. "Lead them back to the cabin - there's a storm coming."

'What?" Trevor said, standing up.

"I'll meet you there." Hilda said, walking forward.

"What?" Trevor said again from behind, but Hilda ignored him. There wasn't anytime. The monster was looming over David, and it meant business. It's once bulbous body was now covered in strange spiky protrusions, almost like a cactus. She opened a tear as she stepped out, throwing an illusion over herself.

Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Chapter Text

David was running. He dashed though the forest, barely able to make out the obstacles in front of him in the dim, moonless light. Something was chasing him, he could hear it right behind him. Not the thumping of the monster, but softer padding, like a large cat. He chanced a glance over his shoulder, but couldn’t make out anything. What had happened to the monster? Had it changed shape? No time to think about it, he just had to run. He stumbled on something, and nearly toppled over. He barely managed to keep his footing. His heart pounded deep within his chest, and he didn’t think he had ever felt so afraid. Where was Frida? Or Trevor? Or anybody? Frida was still tied up, wasn’t she? He should try to get back to her… but wait, how had he gotten out? He slowed, coming a stop. Something was off. The padding behind quickly approached, but he paid it no mind. The last thing he remembered was… sitting tied against a tree. He had sat there for awhile and… he strained trying to remember. He must have fallen asleep! This was a dream.

No, not a dream… a nightmare!

The padding was almost on top of him, he turned, and saw two green eyes glowing in the night, approaching him at break neck speed. He didn’t react. The creature leapt towards him, sailing an impossibly long distance towards him. He watched approached, unimpressed. It crashed into him, but he didn’t feel anything. It went right through him, and puffed into smoke on the other side of him.

“Not your best work.” He said to the shadows around him. “You only had me for what, twenty seconds?”

“Let’s call it thirty.” Eva said, stepping out the shadows next to him. She wore her customary black hoodie and black jeans, with her twin blond tails of hair protruding, one on each side. She had a sly sneer on her face, which was also customary for her.

“And to be fair, I didn’t really have a lot of time to prepare this one.” She said, with a nonchalant shrug.“It took me forever to find you out here.” She said, her head sagging to the side. The bored look was quickly replaced with a devious smile. “But I’ve haunted you enough to find you just about anywhere.”

“Lucky me.” David grumbled. She disappeared in a puff of green smoke. The scenery around them morphed, and suddenly they were standing in front of his actual body, still tied to the tree - fast asleep. The bellkeeper still sat next to him, unconscious as well. Eva reappeared suddenly, lying on her stomach, like one might on the end of a bed. Except in her case, she was floating a few feet off the ground, in front of his unconscious body. She wore a bored expression, with her head in her hands.

“What are you even doing out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at home practicing for that stupid play or something?”

“What’s it to you?” David asked, stepping up next to her and folding his arms. She sighed, rolling her eyes and sitting up.

“Just asking. Jeez.”

David eyed her. In his many dealings with Eva, he had learned that she never ‘just asked’. It was never just anything with her. She looked at him, waiting for a response. He finally sighed, unfolding his arms.

“We’re trying to find Hilda, but we got caught up with some sort of monster.”

Eva sniffed dismissively. “You have got to stop letting her rope you into stuff like this.”

David shrugged. “She’s my friend. She’d do the same for me.”

Eva just rolled her eyes, looking back to his body. “Won’t matter much if she gets you killed.” She said quietly.

“Oh like you care about that.” David said with a roll of his eyes.

“Who else would I get to haunt?” Eva said, her devious grin returning. It didn’t stay long though.

“Seriously though, you might want to avoid the brat for a little while. You aren’t the only one looking for her.”

“What? You mean Trevor? Or... someone else?” David asked, taken aback slightly.Eva sighed, putting herhands behind herhand and falling back. Instead of falling to the ground however, she just started hovering a few feet off the air on her back.

"Let's just say she's gotten herself into some real trouble thistime. Trouble with some realnastypeople."

"Nasty like you?" David said with a sniff. Eva smiled at that, agenuine smile which was rare.

"Not exactly.Believe it or not, there's worse things in this world then me."

David glanced at hisunconscious body, still tied to the tree behind him, and thought of themonster, still lurking around somewhere. "Ibelieve you."

"Do you know anything about these monsters that have been popping up recently?" He asked turning back to her.

She perked up, sitting up quickly.

"Isthatwhat tied you up? One of those Frahn's that slipped through?" She started laughing.

"You really arepathetic!" She said,pretending to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

Daviddidn't react to the jibe, though hecouldn't stop his cheeks from turning slightly red.

"What is that?" He asked instead, trying to fish more information out of her. "A... frahn?"

Eva stopped laughing, and stood stretching in a cat like fashion.

"Well they aren't from around here, that's for sure. They usually stick to their own world, but some slipped through a few days ago. I couldn't tell you why."

She disappeared in a puff of green smoke, reappearing right next to him. She leaned in, looking around conspiratorially.

"Rumor has it that Hilda had something to do with it. Got the witches all in a fit over it too."

David was still reeling. Their own world? Did that make them some sort of alien?

He asked the question aloud, his voice quavering more than he would have liked. Eva laughed at him again, but only said

“Don’t worry about it.”

Her eyes started glowing the hideous shade of green, and everything began to fade. She disappeared in another puff of green smoke, and David fell back into unconsciousness.

He started, waking in a cold sweat. He blinked bleary eyes, his sluggish mind taking a moment to remember where he was and what was happening. The dream was already fading from his mind, but the last bit about other people looking for Hilda was burned into his mind. What did it mean? He wasn’t sure. Though, it didn’t really matter right now. He looked around, seeing little in the dark. The moon was obscured by a patch of clouds overhead, keeping the area in the dark. He still couldn’t move, and he was starting to feel sore from being stuck for so long.

How do I keep ending up in messes like this?

The thought did little to improve David’s already sour mood. Being tied to a tree by an unknown forest horror would do that to a person. Yet again he cursed Hilda for getting him into this mess. Not that he would change his choice to follow her out here if he could. As he had told Eva, Hilda would do the same for him. The man tied next to him didn’t stir, though David could still faintly make out breathing. Frida was still tied a few feet away from him, and was still unconscious. David was beginning to worry. It had been… well, he wasn’t actually sure how long it had been since she had been knocked out.

“Frida?” He called.

She didn’t stir. He growled in frustration. What did he do? He couldn’t think of anyway to get himself free. He could barely squirm in his bonds, and even if he somehow got out, where would he go? If anyone could get them out, it would be Frida. Or maybe Trevor would comeback with Hilda, and Hilda would somehow fix everything just like she always did. David was again left feeling useless in his friends collective shadow. And what a long shadow it was. Between Frida’s magic, and Hilda’s uncanny ability to handle any situation, David often felt inadequate. And why shouldn’t he? He was just an average guy - below average even, in most physical senses. This was just another adventure that he spent tied up, while he waited for the others to fix things. Something about that didn’t sit quite right with him. The feeling grew harder and harder to ignore as the minutes passed, and darkness fell more completely.

But what could he do? He tried shifting back and forth, hoping to tease a bit of slack out of the strange bindings. It was louder then he would have liked. He worried he might attract the monsters attention, but he didn’t hear any sound in the dark around. It had stomped away shortly after tying them up, and hadn’t returned as far as he knew. Emboldened by the supposed solitude, he squirmed harder. When that yielded no results, he tried going up and down. No luck, though as he came back down, he felt the chord snag on something. He pulled down harder, and he felt it rip free. He went up again, and came back down with a similar result. An idea starting forming. If he could snag the ‘rope’ enough times, it might slowly wear through the chord. So he sat up, and came down. And did it again. Soon, he had repeated the process nearly a dozen times.

The rope didn’t seem to get any looser, but at least it was something to do. Up and down. Up and down. It became a steady rhythm as the minutes dragged on, almost comforting in a way. It was one of the most tedious things he had ever done. Too keep himself sane, he tried to imagine what he would be doing if he was at home - other then the obvious answer of ‘being fast asleep in his own warm bed’. He would probably be practicing lines for the end of semester play. Opening night was only a couple days away after all. A soft groan interrupted his rhythmic movement, and he looked up sharply. It had come from Frida’s direction.

“Frida?” He called, sitting back against the tree, taking breather. It was surprisingly rigorous work.

A low moan was the only response. He could only barely make out her in the dark, but she seemed to be stirring.

“David?” She finally said, head swinging back and forth.

“Here.” He called. "Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What happened?”

“You went unconscious after that thing did… whatever it did to you. The Bellkeeper and Trevor tried to fight it off, but they didn’t last long.”

David looked over, trying to make out the shape of the man tied next to him in the dark.

“The Bellkeeper is here too - tied up next to me. He’s in bad shape. Trevor’s got away, and he’s out there somewhere, but I haven’t seen or heard anything from him.”

“Where’s the monster?” Was Frida’s only response.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen it in a little while.”

“Hmm.” Frida replied. David knew her well enough to know that she was deep in thought, so he kept quiet. He let the silence stretch for as long as he could bear, before finally blurting out.

“So… How are you going to get out?” He finally asked.

“Me?” She asked, incredulous. “I’m tied up! Don’t you have a plan?”

“I’m tied up too! Can’t you use some magic or something?

“All the magic I had left got sucked out of me!” Frida said, growing frustrated. “You seriously haven’t thought of a way to escape?”

David felt his cheeks flush. “I thought you’d be able to do something…” He said quietly.

The only response was a soft groan from Frida.

“Well what about your bag?” He tried.

“What about my bag?” Frida asked, sounded confused.

“Don’t you have something in there that could help us out?”

“Maybe, but I don’t see how that would help us. Unless you have it?”

“…It’s not with you? Where is it then?”

“How should I know? I’ve been unconscious for the past few hours!”

Now it was Davids turn to groan. He should have realized that.

“I might be able to do something.” He finally said with a sigh. He sat up, and came back down. And did it again. And again.

Up, down. Up, down. Up, and down.

“What on earth are you doing over there?” Frida asked after a little while, interrupting his rhythm.

He gave Frida a quick explanation of what he was doing, and she remained silent after that, letting him work. He took short breaks every few minutes. It was slowly eating away at the once tentacle, or at least he hoped so. He couldn’t really tell if he was making any progress, but it was better then sitting still. Up, and back down. He settled back, breathing hard. He let his head fall back with a long sigh.

“Any luck?” Frida asked softly.

“Not yet.” David said, still out of breath. The night was quickly growing cold, but the constant movement kept him warm. A terrible scream broke the night air. It was nearby, but still a ways off. He froze in place, waiting with held breath to see if it would get closer. It didn’t, as far as he could tell, but he still got back to work with renewed vigor. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.

He grit his teeth, grunting as he strained as hard as he could against the bonds - to no avail. He collapsed back down, breathing hard. Try as he might, he couldn’t help but feel useless. He hadn’t been able to fight the monster, he hadn’t been able to keep Frida away from it earlier, and now he couldn’t escape. He groaned, sitting up again. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. He went again for several more minutes. He eventually fell back again, growling in frustration.

“Anything?” Frida asked softly.

“What do you think?” He snapped back, feeling annoyed. She didn’t respond.

“Sorry.” He said after a second. She didn’t deserve that, it wasn’t her fault they were tied up. If he had been able to get them away, none of this would have happened. Up, down. He fell back into the rhythm, but wasn’t able to go for very long. He fell back again, his face hot from the exertion. Why was he even bothering with this? The monster - the Frahn, as Eva had called it - would certainly just tie him back up as soon as he got free, or maybe just kill him. It grew lighter around him suddenly, the clouds above shifting, and soft moonlight falling down on them. He could now easily make out Frida across from him, though it was too dim to make out her features. He groaned softly, and got back to work.

Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.

The distant roaring of the monster came again.

“What do you think it’s doing out there?” Frida asked quietly.

“Not sure.” David said, between repetitions.

“Do you think it has something to do with Hilda?”

David paused for a moment, catching his breath.

“Yeah.” He finally said. It seemed likely.

Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. He worked steadily for what felt like hours, though it had likely only been a handful of minutes. His legs were starting to feel numb when distantly, he heard the thumping footsteps approaching. He paused for a moment, straining his ears, and yes, they were getting closer. He started again, more frantic this time.

“David…?” Frida said, growing concerned. David didn’t waste the breath responding. The thumping was getting closer.

Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. Up - something gave, and the chords loosened. David sat up further, and pushed against the tree. The ropes loosened further. He got his arms out, working frantically. The thumping was closer still. He frantically worked at pulling his legs out. He got one out, then the other. He had done it. He had done it! He stood, frozen for a second, almost unable to believe it.

“David! Get out of here!” Frida hissed. He jumped, and looked around wildly. The thumping was nearly on top of them. He looked around wildly for a place to hide, settling on a large patch of bushes a few yards away. He ran over to them, and dove down to the ground, crawling in underneath the dense tangle of branches. He had just pulled himself in all the way when the monster appeared out of the trees at the other end of the clearing. David drew into the bush further, trying to make himself as small as possible. The monster didn’t even glance at the Bellkeeper, or the now empty spot beside him. Instead, it marched right up to Frida, and sat down, like a dog waiting patiently to be noticed. They starred at each other for a long moment, before Frida finally broke the silence.

“What do you want?”

The creature made no reply.

“Why are you keeping us here?” Frida tried.

The creature moved slightly, dropping something David couldn't see in front of Frida.

“What is - oh. My wand?” She said, sounding confused. She slowly looked back up at the monster.

“You want more magic.” She said slowly. David’s breath caught. This thing was smart. Far smarter then they had thought. Frida seemed to be thinking along similar lines, and she looked over the creature, reevaluating.

“Well I can’t help you.” She finally said. “I’m out of magic.”

The monster clearly didn’t like that answer, stomping at the ground in front of her impatiently.

“What do you want me to do?” She shouted up at it. “I can’t make magic out of nothing this far from the city, so unless your hiding some lizard spit somewhere you’re out of luck!”

David was fairly sure lizard spit wasn’t an actual ingredient in any spells, but he couldn’t be certain. The monster leaned it’s bulbous body down close to Frida, almost like it was squinting down at her with nonexistent eyes. It stood, and stomped back the way it had come. David waited until it vanished from view, then waited until the stomping sound faded away. Then - just for good measure - waited a whole minute after, before finally climbing out from the bush. He quickly ran back to Frida, who was still watching the direction the monster had gone.

“What was that all about?” He asked, checking her bonds.

“I’m not sure. But we should probably get out of here before that thing comes back.”

David just nodded in agreement, but unfortunately that was easier said then done. Frida was tied even tighter then he had been, with twice as many chords binding her to the tree. He scooper her wand off the ground where the monster had dropped it, and handed it to Frida.

“Maybe this will help?” He asked hopefully.

“No.” She said flatly. He sighed.

“Don’t suppose you have a knife on you?” He asked, after struggling with the bonds in vain.

She shook her head.

“Maybe the Bellkeeper has something on him?” She suggested. David turned, looking at the still figure.

“Maybe.” He said, walking over to the man. Once he got closer, he made out the sound of the man breathing shallowly, which was a relief. He shook the man gently, hoping to wake him. His hand came back coated in a foul black tar like substance. David made a face, wiping it off as best he could. The man was completely coated in the stuff, and David wondered what possibly could have happened.

He shook the man again, and this time the man stirred slightly, mumbling something David couldn’t make out, but otherwise remained unconscious. David checked the man over as best he could, trying to keep his hand clean of the oily mess. He gave up after a moment, there was just no way to avoid it. The man was absolutely covered in the stuff. He moved to the man’s pockets, and nearly cut his hand open on a blade in one of his pockets. He pulled it out gingerly. Why the man had an open blade causally in his pocket, David couldn’t guess. It didn’t really matter though. He cleaned his hand off as best he could, and he returned to Frida triumphant. He started cutting the thick chords. The knife had a serrated section of the blade, but the chords were thick and hard.

“What’s taking so long?” Frida asked after a moment.

“Sorry, this stuff is thick.” David said with a grunt, still working.

“Well hurry - eep!” Frida cut off with a fearful sound.

“What? What is it?” David asked, still working. Suddenly a shadow fell over him and Frida, blocking the moonlight. He looked over his shoulder and saw an inky blackness above him. It took him a moment to realize that the monster was looming over him. How had it approached so silently? It hardly seemed to matter now. He reacted without thinking, diving away, and scrambling to his feet running as fast as he could. He didn’t even make it three paces before something grabbed him by the waist, yanking him off the ground. The monster held him aloft with a single tentacle. He cried out, cutting at the tentacle with the knife. The creature made no sound, and simply slammed him against the tree that Frida was bound too. He smashed against the tree. Pain flared across his back. He felt like his brain was bouncing around in his skull. His vision was filled with stars.

“David!” Frida cried from below. He was too dazed to reply.His vision swam as tears filled his eyes. The knife was nowhere to be found - he must have dropped it at some point. He wouldn’t have been able to use it at any rate. He wanted to curl up, but the best he could too was hang limply. The monster dropped something else in front of Frida.

“Daybloom.”She spat, glaring up at thecreature with contempt.

David blinked the tears out of his eyes, and saw a small pile of orange - yellow flowers sitting in front of Frida. They looked like they had been torn out of the ground with little consideration of the flowers health, with some no more then stems, and some still carrying soil in the root systems. Frida considered them with worry.

“I…I won’t do it.” Frida said, sticking her chin out at the thing.

Won’t do what? What’s going on?

The creature didn’t move for a moment, considering her with distaste. It reached out and picked the flowers back up, then reached towards Frida. She shied away, but couldn’t get away from it. At it’s touch, the tentacle holding Frida to the tree sprung to life again, reattaching to the main body. It kept hold of Frida, and the creature hoisted her a few feet into the air.

“Let go of me!” She shouted, struggling in the air. It moved her into position a few feet away from him, then brought up one of its large legs. It seemed to fuzz for a moment, and the end suddenly became a needle like spike, a long as David’s arm. It thrust it towards David, and he cried out, pinching his eyes shut.

“Wait!” Frida cried. David peeked an eye open, and saw the point a few inches away from his throat.

“Ok! Ok, I’ll do it.” Frida said, her voice panicked. “Just leave him alone.”

David couldn’t do anything but stare at the spike.The monster seemed to shift its attention back to Frida, and slowly pulled the spike back. He slowly let out a held breath, his entire body shaking slightly. It kept the spike pointed at David, but gave a foot or so of space. It pushed the flowers towards Frida, shaking them insistently.

“I need my hands free.” Frida said tersely. The creature made no move.

“What do you expect me to do? I need my hands!” Frida repeated, annoyed. Finally, the binding holding Frida relaxed a little, and she was able to wiggle her arms free. She had somehow managed to keep a hold of her wand, though David wasn’t sure what good it would do her.

Another spiked arm came up at the same time, pointing at Frida this time. She eyed it warily, but took the flowers from the outstretched Tentacle, and inspected them with a critical eye. She looked through it, and started mouthing words silently, calculating something. The monster shook her harshly, and she glared back spitefully.

“Alright alright. Just give me a second. ”

“What’s going on?” David said, his mouth surprisingly dry.

“It brought me a bunch of Daybloom.” She said tersely, intently focused on what she was doing.

“And what’s that?”

“It’s an ingredient in a handful of spells.”

David still didn’t understand. She looked up, catching his eye.

“It brought me ingredients so it can suck the magic out of me.”

David’s eyes went wide as he finally understood fully. The monster shook Frida again, harder this time. She glared at it, but her eyes settled back on David.

"Normally, Daybloom isn't good for much." She said, almost seeming to be speaking to herself, and she again looked over the flower.

"On it's own, you can really only make a simple light spell."

The Frahn shook her again, growing impatient. Frida griped her wand in one hand, and placed one of the flowers gingerly in her mouth, holding it with her teeth.

"But -" She said, speaking around the flower. "- if you add just the right amount of iron, it makes a spectacular fire spell."

The words seemed to hang in the air, everything growing still around them. David was about to ask what in the world she was talking about whenshe suddenly thrust her free hand towards the spike pointed at her. She cried out in pain as the spike punctured her palm. The monster seemed just as stunned as David, and didn’t react fast enough stop Frida from pulling her hand free with a sickening squelch. She brought her now bloody hand back and plucked the flower from her mouth.

“Einum befallas nacht!” She shouted out the incantation with a wicked smile, and the orange aura sprang up around her. A blinding light exploded from Fridas hand, and a line of liquid fire shot out, severing the tentacle holding David. A wave of heat hit him as the fire passed mere feet away from him, and he cried out shielding his face from the intense heat. He cried out again as suddenly found himself unsupported in the air, and he fell to the ground. He tumbled down to the ground, ending in a dazed heap. He quickly got back to his feet, trying to blink away the new spots in his vision. Frida was still held by the monster, orange aura stronger then ever. Her hand was still ablaze with a white hot flame, though it didn’t seem to pain her at all. She sent another shot at the tentacle holding her, and a third at the monster itself.

The Frahn cried out - a horrible screech that broke the night air - and stumbled away as the liquid fire splashed onto it’s bulbous body. A hideous sound like frying bacon filled the air, and it let of a acrid black smoke. One of the liquid flames had hit one of the nearby trees, and wood was already catching. Frida fell to the ground awkwardly, the aura slowly fading around her. She fell to her knees, breathing hard and clutched her injured hand to her chest. The flowers fell from her fingers as David ran up and pulled to her feet. Thinking quickly, he scooped up the remaining flowers before dragging Frida away from the thrashing monster. It let out another scream as it smashed into a nearby tree, nearly uprooting it. The severed tentacles writhed on the ground, the ends still smoldering, letting of a putrid burning smell. The monster shook itself, leveling on them. It let out a ferocious scream, angrier then the screams before. It’s body seemed to fuzz, the tentacles retreating into itself. At the same time, spines formed all around the bulbous body, creating a perfect shell of razor sharp spikes. David felt the blood drain out of his face. It was out to kill now, no more messing around.

“Give me a flower!” Frida cried, stumbling to a stop. David hurriedly handed her one of them. The flower puffed into golden spheres, and blood seemed to be pulled out of her palm. She cried out in pain, falling to one knee, but the orange aura returned.

“Einum befalla-vuun!” She shouted, and a ball of fire ignited in her injured hand. It burned a deep red, and didn’t seem entirely stable. It ungulated, seeming to stretch and pulse before snapping back into a sphere. She tossed it like a baseball directly at the monster, but the ball lost its shape before reaching its target. It puffed out, leaving only a few glowing cinders. The monster retreated back anyway, rearing up and letting out another screech. David pulled Frida to her feet again, but once up she waved him away.

“Flower! Now!” She belted, the orange aura still surrounding her. He hastily handed her another, leaving only two flowers. It turned golden as soon it touched her hand, and became orbs before it had even left his hand. She cried out, clutching her injured hand as blood again seemed to be siphoned out of the wound, turning golden in the air. David inadvertently took a step back, horrified.

“Einum befalla-vuun!” Another ball of fire appeared in front of Frida - much larger this time, and glowing a sickly yellow - and she sent it spinning towards the monster. It fell short, landing a few yards away from them, but it didn’t puff out like the last one. It exploded, shooting out sparkling cinders in every direction - much like a firework would. The glowing cinders landed all around, and worryingly didn’t go out, instead glowing a deep angry red in the tall grass.

“Another.” Frida said, holding her hand out. David obliged.

He watched the monster warily as it crept forward in a low, aggressive stance. Again Frida cried out, as blood was sucked out of her palm, falling to one knee. David moved to help her up, but she stopped him with a hand.

“Einum befallas nacht!” The blinding light from before reappeared, and a bolt of liquid fire sprang from her outstretched hand. The creature lurched to the side at the last moment, dodging the liquid fire but a hairs breadth. The stream of molten fire hit a tree instead, setting the bark a blaze. Smoke started wafting from the tree, joining the now smoldering grass.

"More!" She cried, her voice vengeful. David was staring at the blazing trees, a feeling of dread quickly building.

“Frida, maybe we shou - !”

"David!" She shouted, turningto him sharply.

In the moment he almost didn’t recognize her. Her face was covered in soot and sweat, her hand a bloody mess. He wand gripped in white knuckles, and a look he didn’t think he had ever seen on her face. It was uncomfortably close to an expression Eva might make. He made no move to give her the flower, so she reached out and snatched the last flower from his hand, shoving him back in a fluid motion. At the same time the monster suddenly rushed forward in a crouch, letting out a deafening scream.

“Einum befa - Urk!“ Frida begin, but stopped as the monster reared up fast as lightning. The seem on it’s underside opened, and the aura around Frida started stretching towards the gaping mouth. Frida’s eyes opened wide, her expression now horrified. It broke away from Frida, and she fell back with a cry. The aura formed a ball in the air, hovering in front of the monster. David rushed forward, grabbing Frida and pulling her away. She stirred, mumbling something but he couldn’t make it out. The ball entered the mouth, and the creature flashed, seeming to swell up. It let out a triumphant scream, stomping around in it’s strange dance.

Something strange caught his eye as he dragged Frida. A strange shimmer in the air, that reflected the fire light. It moved quickly through the air, heading right towards the Bellkeeper. David blinked, thinking he was seeing things. But no, as soon as it touched the Bellkeepers chest, he sat up with a jerking motion, letting out a deep chested shout and straining against his bonds. He looked around with wild eyes. His gaze quickly fell on the monster, and his jaw set. Nothing happened that David could see, but the monster drew up short. It focused on the Bellkeeper, and let out another scream, though this one wasn’t triumphant. A sudden strong gust of wind blew through the clearing, stoking the growing flames further. Distantly, David heard thunder rumbling. David reached the Bellkeeper with Frida and stopped, breathing hard. The monster started approaching them. It did it causally, not bothering to hurry.

“Get out of here kid.” The man said from behind, his voice solemn. David shook his head.

“I can’t leave Frida here.” He saw a gleam in the grass nearby as he turned back to steadily approaching Frahn. He quickly stepped over to it, pulling the knife from before out with one hand. He stood back up, hands shaking. He stepped between the monster and the Tree where Frida and the Bellkeeper sat. He had no plan. He held the knife out before him, unsure what good it would do him. He had to try though.

I guess you were right Eva…

David jumped in surprise as a new shout came across the clearing.

“Leave them alone!” It only took him a moment to recognize the voice as Hilda’s. The monster whirled around. David looked over too. Hilda stepped out of the trees into the clearing, a fierce expression on her face. David felt relief flood through him. It didn’t last long. What was Hilda going to do? She would just get killed with the rest of them.

“Come on and get me!” Hilda shouted again, and took off towards the opposite end of the clearing. The monster howled giving chase. They both disappeared into the trees after only a few seconds.

“Hilda wait!” He shouted, starting to run forward. A sudden flashlight beam from the side stopped him. Trevor stumbled out of the trees a moment later, shaking off some leaves that stuck to his hat.

“Trevor?” David asked, confused. “What’s going on?”

“You tell me!” He said, looking around in shock. “Why is everything on fire?”

“What’s Hilda doing?” David asked, ignoring the question.

Trevor came to a stop next to him, letting out a sigh. “She decided to distract the thing long enough for us to get away.” He rolled his eyes, and started moving past him.

“We have to help her!” David said, starting forward. Trevor caught his arm, yanking him to a halt. He glared back, but Trevor’s gaze remained cool.

“Trust me, you’d only slow her down.” He let go of David’s arm, and turned.

“Come on lets go!” He said, moving towards the tree where Frida and the Bellkeeper sat. David starred towards the last place he had seen the monster, wanting to give chase. He did grudgingly admit that Trevor was probably right. Hilda could take care of herself after all. He started jogging after Trevor as the first drops of rain started to fall.