Soren, a Borrower, just migrated with his two half brothers and his step-father into a new apartment complex. Though his step-father leads the family, it was his blunder which forced the family to migrate on the cusp of winter. Soren must fight daily to help his family survive; however, he knows nothing about the occupants of this new building. Who lives here? What innate dangers do these humans possess? And what would they do if Soren or his family were discovered?
~~~~~
A Tall and Small Collection | S2
It has been some time since Ashlynn has seen her Borrower companions - Soren, Dorian, and Rey. Why did she leave? Will she come back? What will have changed? Soren has been living with his brothers in the same old apartment for years, even after Ashlynn left that day. So much has changed. How is she doing? Will they see her again?
~~~~~
Everyone Needs A Little Hero
A Borrower named Hero is out borrowing with his older sibling(s) and sees one of their human hosts watching an animated TV series about villains and heroes, people who stand for good and help make the world a better place. He is enthralled with the idea of living up to his name and begins a secret, vigilante lifestyle to make sure the humans "in his care" are safe. What happens when he is put to the test? Will his activities be explained away? Or will they get him caught?
~~~~~
The Orion’s Factotum
The Orion’s Factotum follows the story of a servant named Raina Toro who works in the city endlessly to supply her and her daughter with a decent life. The jobs she works are menial and pay little. Then, Raina hears of a position from a bookman friend of hers named Caster Veil. He speaks of a high turnover position in the prisons beneath the city acting as a Factotum to one of the city’s most dangerous prisoners - Steele Veyne. This would be of little issue if her were like them; however, that is not the case. He is an Orion - a giant among men - and his crimes are severe. What will happen to the poor peasant mother who simply seeks a decent life for her and her child when she comes face to face with a giant?
~~~~~
Moving Through Life
Shay, a pre-teen Borrower, is going out for the first time. Her training has led to this exact moment and now she is going out with her three older brothers to the human world; but things are a bit odd in the human house. Shay's skills as a new Borrower are going to be put to the test when an accident separates her from her brothers. How will she cope? And will she escape in time before she is seen?
~~~~~
Wizard of the Wood
Essie remembers nothing of her past. What she does know is that she will never go back to wherever she came from. Known as the Sorcerer of Fanged Ridge, the giant among man lived as a hermit until she came across a someone who needed her help, a man named Rylir. After tending to his wounds, Rylir decides to stay for some time.
While they live together, things begin happening which bring the recluse out of her sanctuary in the mountains and the forest and memories she didn't think she had begin creeping into the forefront of her mind. Will she be strong enough to face them?
Vote Story | A Borrower's Bestiary | Part Four | Islands
~ Part Four | Islands ~
“Islands. Let’s go for the islands.”
“You sure?”
“No,” Chance sighed. “But I figured we can check everywhere between here and there and gives us a chance to look for clues.” She watched as the little man sighed, scratched the back of his neck, quite possibly was doubting his life choices, and then nodded stiffly.
“Alright then. Hope you’re a good swimmer,” Garrick said. “Come on. Follow me.” He turned away from Chance and, without waiting, began to maneuver over roots and under leaves in a north, north-east direction. Chance scrambled to her feet to follow as instructed, map crinkling unevenly in her hand, but the need for haste was unnecessary. One of her steps was easily ten of his and simply standing had her towering directly over him, foot landing closer than the Borrower would’ve liked, making him jump as the crash rang out beside him.
“Hey! Watch out!” Garrick darted to the side and made sure Chance could see him.
“Sorry. I’ll be more careful,” Chance apologized briskly, oddly feeling small as she was scolded by the little man. He stared, sternly, but didn’t press further as he turned around and began leading the way once more. He ducked under leaves and balanced along fallen branches. His movements were reminiscent of a squirrel or some small forest creature completely in control of his body. Each leap or twist reminded Chance of an elaborate gymnastics routine.
Unfortunately, it didn’t matter how fast this strange person could twist, flip, and balance. It didn’t change how slow he was by comparison to Chance. Even his top speed had the adult human woman walking heel to toe over the uneven terrain, and Garrick knew it. He could keep a fair pace for days on end, but the Borrower found himself nearly at a full run, sprinting when under the cover of leaves to suggest he was faster when unseen. It wasn’t sustainable, and ten minutes passed in a threatening agony.
He’d just ascended a particularly gnarled branch, catching himself winded, when he noticed that Chance looked like she wanted to say something.
“What?” he heaved, each breath poorly stifled. Throat raw as sandpaper, he attempted to swallow but failed, instead awkwardly gagging on the air he desperately craved. It was the look the human gave him that made her words apparent before she even spoke. He could read it in her features but, winded, couldn’t stop from hearing her spine shuddering suggestion.
“It’s just… I know you’re fast, but if we want to get there by nightfall, would… it be better if I… gave you a lift?” Chance gestured to her shoulder before shuddering. “Gosh! Gosh, that sounds so weird to say! Well, I mean… it would be weirder to say do you want to ride on me because that’s just… uugghh…” Chance groaned, turning scarlet in the cheeks and at the tips of her ears, and covered her face with her hands, which was to Garrick’s benefit as he felt his own cheeks burning at the human’s accidental innuendo. The Borrower quickly recovered, however, and caught his breath as he weighed his options.
He hated the idea of losing his autonomy, relying on this human to move around, especially when this human was so meek of mind to be lured by a splasher. At the same time, ten minutes of sprinting was a compelling motivator. His heart still thundered against his ribs. The lack of water combined with the cracked parched sensation in his throat. Nothing displeased him more than requiring help, especially from a human; and yet he was considering it. It was unnerving. The thought of riding on a human’s shoulder close enough to count freckles and pores on their face sent chills down his spine. To see the fine hairs on the edges of a cheek as tall and as broad as him might be too much. At the same time, he promised three days and there was possibly a child who they could still save.
At the very least, if we end up finding this kid, she might give me more intel if we manage to succeed.
“Fine.”
Chance, eyes widening and ears still scarlet, gawped. “What?”
“I said fine. Are you hard of hearing?” Garrick snipped.
“I… j-... no. I just didn’t think you’d… you know?” While Chance sputtered, Garrick steeled himself, hoping silently he was appearing braver than he felt.
“Look, you made a good point. If we want to get to the islands before dark, we need to move faster, especially if you want to find the kid; if he’s still around. I don’t like it and if you want to take it back, that’s too bad. A good idea is a good idea, even if I don’t like it,” huffed Garrick. Unease filled the space between their words. Neither could look at the other.
Just get it over with!
“Well? Put your hand down here if you’re going to do it.” Garrick noticed Chance’s subtle hand flex as the act of consciously picking up the small man. Obviously, something had changed from earlier to now. Reassuring, but didn’t lessen the roiling in Garrick’s gut. That same unease threatened to beat his heart out of his chest as he watched the woman’s arm swing down, hand extended toward him. He nearly stepped back and away, but hesitated as he saw the tremble in her fingers.
Scared… like me. At least she can’t see me shaking.
Garrick examined the dirt smudges in the prints of the hand in front of him before his eyes traced up the length of the arm. The long sleeves he hadn’t noticed before creating patterns in his mind like how bark on a tree would. Within a fraction of a moment, he’d tracked a path with his eyes all the way up the arm and up onto the shoulder. Jump at the wrist. Grab for the fold at the elbow. Snag the sleeve at the top at the seam and then onto the shoulder. Easy peasy. He bit his lip and jolted his head to one side, as if it were a piece of debris he could shake away, before sprinting up the woman’s arm.
He realized too late that he’d failed to communicate his intentions as he ran past the awaiting hand and felt the arm jolt beneath him as Chance flinched. The world threatened to turn on its side, but the reflexes of the Borrower were quick to adapt. Garrick lunged onto all fours as the arm that was once inclined was now a vertical wall. He caught himself from falling, but slammed into a wall of flesh he hadn’t anticipated. His fingers clasped desperately at the shirt as his attention snapped up to Chance.
“What was that?! You trying to knock me off?” Garrick demanded. Chance’s eyes were wide, mouth agape. Thankfully, she made no additional flailing motion.
“I… sorry… I just… I th-thought you’d… um… that I’d…”
Their miscommunication was plain as day.
“That you’d lift me up? Yeah, well thanks for the heads up. I thought I’d just run right up the side all easy like, but if you’d rather…”
“No. I… it just… I mean… you just… startled me… that’s all. I’m sorry.” Chance’s apology felt genuine enough, though Garrick couldn’t stop the scowl he shot up at her. He swallowed roughly, heart thumping in his throat, before looking back up at her.
“It’s… fine. Just… choose now before I do anything. Are you raising your arm so I can walk over or am I climbing this thing?”
“I’ll raise my arm,” Chance said, nerves making her talk a bit quicker than normal. Garrick watched her exhale as her arm raised slowly, eyes fixated only on him in fascination as he adjusted his stance to compensate for the moving limb beneath him. Arms out to steady himself, Garrick managed to balance as he was brought to be level with Chance’s shoulder. It felt impossible to ignore the woman’s blue-green eyes as they watched his every move, but Garrick attempted to do so all the same. It was only a dozen steps or so, but every step felt heavy simply with the weight of Chance’s eyes. He hated the way her neck craned to look down at him as he knelt on her shoulder and secured himself by slipping a safety pin into her clothes and tying a line onto it.
“Okay, tied down,” he stated as he crouched and braced for her first step, but she didn’t move.
“You… sure you’re good?” asked Chance.
“Yeah, but we won’t be if we’re caught in the water when the sun starts going down, so let’s move,” Garrick’s unease translated into tension in his voice. It went unaddressed as Chance nodded shakily and took that first step forward. He expected to be thrown forward or tossed backwards. Maybe jolted forward. Maybe encased in a hand that feared he was fragile and would fall at a moment’s notice.
Thankfully, that didn’t happen.
Of all the creatures he’d hitched a ride on, Garrick silently acknowledged that this was the easiest by far, which he found surprising. Some of these creatures glided through trees silently while others stomped and scraped up against every tree to spread their scent. Chance seemed to be a complement of the two. He felt each step without feeling the threat of falling at any point. The rhythm let him catch his breath and anticipate when they would connect with the ground. It was like riding an immense wave, and it wasn’t altogether unpleasant.
Not that I’m going to tell her that.
While Garrick clung to the metal safety pin on her shirt, Chance made every effort to walk as normally as possible while ignoring the slightly shifting weight of the mysterious man riding on her shoulder. She kept her eyes focused on the ground beneath her. It was the most unnerving walk she’d ever taken in the woods, and she found a random staircase for crying out loud. Her boots maneuvered over branches and stepped onto clusters of briars that clawed at her pants. Slick mud and brush attempted to trip her. Chance was never more grateful that she was sure footed.
Pays to be an experienced hiker.
Step after step, Chance maneuvered through the woods, eyes scanning the ground for anything and everything that might be a clue as to where the boy might’ve gone. This whole thing about the staircase being some kind of portal felt beyond her, like it wasn’t real. Then again, who was she to question what was or wasn’t real? There was a tiny man on her shoulder afterall.
Time was hard to tell, but Chance guessed she’d been walking for about an hour when the water finally came into clear view. The sound of the water lapping at the edges of the banks created a soothing, rhythmic white noise. It reminded her of home. The miniscule waves cresting along the silt shores. The way the water blended into the scenery with the islands poking out from the surface like dandelions in full bloom in a well trimmed yard.
The beauty of the scene’s tranquility was interrupted as she felt a harsh tug on the lobe of her ear.
“Ow!” She winced.
“What did I say earlier about the water!?” The little man scolded as he tugged on her ear lobe again. “One eye closed!” Chance ignored the bristling feeling rising in her to snap back at this hand-sized person, but thought better of it and instead closed her right eye so he could at least see she was making an effort.
“Sorry. I forgot and… wait… I thought the whole mint blood thing was protecting me.” Chance couldn’t read the man’s expression, but she did hear him sigh.
“Some things are warded off by the mint and the blood as well as cattail fluff. Other things, however, aren’t deterred by it. It’s safer to approach and assume it isn’t going to work rather than assume it is,” he scolded. “Now, big steps. Into the water. I’ll get on top of your hat thing and…”
“What? You mean just wade right into the water?” interrupted Chance.
“Yes. Can you not swim?” retorted Garrick.
“I mean… yeah, I can. I worked as a lifeguard for a few summers and was part of the swim t-”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Chance had to take a breath as she clasped her hands together in a kind of praying motion. “Not to be that way, but you’re being difficult to work with. You tell me one thing and then you tell me another. I don’t have a Matrix style download of what you know, Tiny, so just let me catch up. Okay?” Met with silence, Chance continued. “Anyway, I can swim, but I have questions. Does the blood and mint trick need to be reapplied like sunscreen to keep me from getting attacked? Is there a chance I could get sucked under here? And, if that’s the case, wouldn’t it be better to find a boat or something nearby to float on? I mean, there’s got to be something nearby, right?”
Chance felt distinct footsteps on her shoulder walking to the edge by her arm, a novel and yet unnerving sensation, before hearing, “Fair enough. Though I don’t know what a Matrix download is or whatever, you’re taking all of this better than I suspected a human could.”
“Careful, or I might think that was a compliment.” Chance’s snarky comment slipped out before she had a chance to stop herself. She heard the little man snort as his weight shifted. An image of him sassily folding his arms and looking incredulous filled her mind, but instead she focused on what he said next.
“Well, I used it earlier, so repeat performance. Don’t count on it happening again. At any rate, I thought you wanted to get to where you needed to go quickly. You can take the time you want to try and find a boat or something, but I’m telling you swimming is going to be your best option,” he sighed. “That said, the blood and mint will need to be reapplied for safety, so tilt your face down here and try not to knock me off.”
Chance held her breath out of sheer politeness and tilted her forehead toward her right shoulder while keeping both eyes closed. She could only imagine what his perspective was like, and seeing two massive eyes the size of his body was probably the last thing he wanted. Chance could’ve sworn she heard a wince just before she felt the weight shift and her hat tug as she felt a light, brushing motion on her forehead.
“Done. Safer to keep one eye closed still, but a splasher won’t get you at the very least,” the tiny man stated. “As for your other concern, there are other things in the water, but if you are quick and don’t thrash around, we should be good to go.”
“Then you’d better get on my hat. We’re going swimming, apparently.” Chance approached the water’s edge. The squelch of the mud under her shoes was an unpleasant sound, but not as much as the smell as she waded into the slick mud water. She maneuvered deeper and deeper, pack firmly on her back and not bothering to change, while keeping her one open eye fixed on the island in front of her. The chilled water soaked through her clothes and crept up past her midsection and to her chest. The tiny man scrambled from her shoulder to the top of her hat, using her ear as a foot hold as he secured himself onto the top of her head.
Before pushing off, she asked, “You really think Aiden is on that island?”
Garrick wished he had a definitive answer. He wanted to guarantee the safety of this human kid. Sadly, he couldn’t. He spent years perfecting his skills. The possibility of a kid surviving was next to none.
Then again, stranger things had happened.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so, but if he’s alive, this is the best place to go looking for him,” replied Garrick.
“As good of an answer as any. Hold on.” Chance sunk into the water past her shoulders while sucking in a deep breath. The air in her lungs kept her afloat and, pushing off the bottom, began a very easy breaststroke across the water. The scent of the water that lingered on the surface filled each breath, but she made every effort to keep her head level for the sake of her passenger; that and putting her face in the water was the last thing she wanted when the water clung to a kind of silty, putrid scent of moist earth and decay.
Garrick, fortunately, had fresher air from his vantage point on the top of the human’s head. He crouched and, like a periscope, kept a watchful eye on the horizon to make sure nothing was creeping up on them from above, beside, or below; though that last one was the trickiest. The murk of the water made even the first few inches of the water nearly impossible to see through. Even Chance’s body looked like a hazy blob, edges wavering and smudged beneath the water’s surface.
They were about halfway when Garrick’s keen eyes saw past the surface of the water down to the murk below. The shapes of plants and small fish flickered in and out of visibility, sometimes only for a fraction of a second. The shape of those long, thin tentacles, on the other hand, continued to linger inches away as those familiar yellow-green eyes peered up beside the stones at the base, blending with refracted light.
Don’t freak her out. She’s taking all of this well, but she doesn’t need to know it’s right beneath us, right?
Each stroke brought them closer to the banks, but they were still only halfway. There was no way they were going to be attacked. Garrick had already taken the precaution of the mint and blood, and he was already spreading the cattail fluff behind them.
I should just tell her when I get to the other side, right? It would be safer, right? What if she freaks out here in the middle of the water? She might attract something worse. Then again, she’s taken everything so well so far. She might want to know if there’s something nearby in case she needs to avoid it or swim faster.
Garrick looked down at the hat bill hiding Chance’s face and wondered what he should do. Tell her? Possibly protect them and keep her in the loop? Or just wait? What she didn’t know right now wouldn’t hurt her, right?
| ~ What should Garrick do? ~ |
~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~
Continue | Coming Soon
Previous
Beginning
What should Garrick do?
Tell Chance about the splasher below them now
Don't tell Chance about the splasher until on the banks of the island
“Alright everyone. We’re going to break into five groups of three today. We had a few people have to call in, but they should be back in a couple of days. We’re going to scan over this area.” Brian Sylvester, lead scout and head of the search and rescue team at Voyageurs National Park, said as he gestured to the southern section of the map. Fourteen sets of eyes locked onto the map. Fourteen heads nodded absent-mindedly, Chance McFate being one of them.
Chance was, by far, the least experienced member of the team. Novice and greener than a briar patch, she had initially got a job at the visitor’s center because she loved hiking and the outdoors. She thought that she’d be helping with tours and that her first aid and nature training would be useful. She didn’t even imagine that they’d ask if she wanted to be a volunteer search and rescue team member, let alone actually be called out after only a month on the job.
Arms folded in the cabin-like interior, she listened quietly and leaned against the wall as other members asked questions about the terrain and other information about who they were looking for.
Where was Aiden last seen?
Did he have anything with him?
What was he wearing?
Who was in the nearby area?
Has everyone from the camping ground been questioned?
While they continued to ask questions, Chance wrapped her arms tighter around her chest as it clenched and unclenched. She could see the kid’s family if she closed her eyes. Mother and father. Older sister. The little boy. Blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Cute. Innocent. He seemed hesitant to go into the woods, this seemingly their first camping trip. Chance clenched her jaw repeatedly as she chewed the words she’d said to them, reassuring them that the trails were safe and that it was such a great season to go camping.
Effin idiot.
She couldn’t have known that the kid was going to go missing. It was a fluke. Random chance.
It’s what you get - Chance! Chance jolted as a childhood taunt injected itself into her train of thought. It was an awful nickname born originally from an affectionate admiration for her lucky streak; an attribute that turned costly when exposed to the teenage mind during several subsequent series of unfortunate events in her youth. From then on, if you wanted to risk life and limb, talk to Chance. Now, more than ever, Chance felt the weight of that statement as the thought she was the last person who wasn’t a member of Aiden’s family to talk to the kid.
Chance’s curse…
Chance’s curse…
Chance’s cu-...
“Chelsey? Oh… sorry. Chance? You with us?” asked Brian.
“What? Oh, yeah. I’m with you.” She focused once more on the line of questioning, still wincing that she’d told her co-workers the nickname that had tormented her youth. Maybe she should’ve used this as an opportunity to start over - use the name her parents had given her. Maybe using her nickname was a way to reclaim it. Maybe it was because if you embrace what you’re called, they can’t use it to hurt you. Whatever the case, it was the name that stuck since she was a kid, she’d used it since she arrived, and was now more determined than ever to break this so-called “curse” that lingered. Focusing once more, she listened to the remaining questions.
Did anyone see anything suspicious during that last day?
Is this connected to any other weird things or disappearances in town?
Do we have access to trail cams?
Are they sure it wasn’t foul play?
The last question churned Chance’s stomach. It was one of those obvious questions that everyone naturally jumped to but felt inclined to avoid at all costs. If she was being honest with herself, she was glad someone else had the gall to say it out-loud. Crass, but direct. She was usually the one to get called-out for it.
Brian paused, the thought obviously having crossed his mind a thousand times before during each and every search and rescue missions he’d participated in, as the lines on his forehead deepened. The creases on his forehead outlined concern, but also doubt of success on this mission. Then, dismissively, his head jerked the thought away and looked more determined than before, a fierce hope replacing his readable doubt.
“That’s not really for us to say. There’s been no indication that this is anything other than a kid who has been lost in the woods, and we need to act fast. Evidently, Aiden doesn’t know how to swim and, while he hasn’t been gone long, it’s of the utmost importance we act quickly since Aiden is diabetic and will need his medication,” stated Brian.
The room quieted, this time with the weight of oppressive time.
“If that’s all, break into your groups and let’s get a move on. We’re wasting daylight.”
Chance hoisted her pack onto her shoulder and followed the others out. The others filed out one by one, each with some kind of map in one hand and mobile device in the other. She snagged one too, adjusting her cap as she stepped into the crisp morning air, and followed the others to the cars, boats, and trails.
She’d maybe made it twelve steps toward the path when the others started talking, breaking the solemn silence.
“I hope we find him,” the girl muttered. Chance couldn’t remember the girl’s name. Kimmy? Tabby? Something with an “ee” sound at the end of it. The guy, Ian, shook his head more dismissively as he fished a granola bar out of his pocket.
“I do too, but you’ve also got to run the numbers and be ready for whatever,” he grumbled. He managed to fit half the granola in his mouth before he scratched his forehead with the back of his hand and continuing. “It’s been twenty hours. First twenty-four are the most important and seventy-two later spells bad news, and that’s when everything's going well.”
“Don’t say that!” Chance didn’t realize how harsh her interjection was until she saw the other two spin around, startled, to look at her. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “I mean… we have to stay positive. If we go in with that kind of attitude, it’s going to be a discouraging factor.”
The two shared a look that told Chance there was some understanding between the two of them that they were either uncomfortable or dismissive of her. She closed her mouth and followed behind, uninterrupted, as they struck up more small-talk while avoiding their previous topic of statistics for missing persons.
They ventured along the paths and directly beside them along with their fellow search and rescue team members, fanning out and always keeping eyes on one another while scanning the ground for anything unusual or out-of-place. The hours that passed were a slog to say the least as they searched in vain. There was no trace of the kid and no signs of any type of predator that might’ve carried him off.
There hadn’t been a lot of campers yet this season, and because of that the rescue team couldn’t even support with false hope by finding litter or a child’s toy. Chance would’ve even taken a set of scorch marks where the kid tried to start a fire at this point. Instead, she trudged on with the others.
Her eyes scanned over the foliage and along the roots for any sign of disturbance. Each step was carefully placed, set down with deliberate intent after she was sure she wasn’t going to disturb potential evidence. The verdant undergrowth kept its secrets, unfortunately, and soon the groups were breaking for a late and well-deserved lunch at the very campsite where the family reported their son missing.
I mean, kids don’t just vanish and bashful ones don’t just wander off, thought Chance bitterly. Her teeth dug into the sandwich she’d packed. Think! Chance! If you were a bashful little boy, other than having to pee, why would you leave your family?
Her eyes scanned the forest around her, conversation drowning out and leaving her with her thoughts and the place Aiden was seen last. Mind, once torrent and being actively split like a log into chunks and fragments, focused on the singular question and solving the problem.
Usually, the simplest answer is the right one. Maybe… he did just go to the bathroom? Didn’t tell anyone? Lost his way back or got distracted? What would distra… no. Stupid question. Pretty much everything would distract a little boy. I need to think of what would specifically distract this specific boy. Bashful. Curious. Kind. Soft-spoken. Something that might’ve caught his attention would be… rocks? He’d be too scared to approach any wildlife. Or, if not rocks, something else? Something that didn’t belong out in the woods?
The more she stared, the more unnerving the woods seemed, an unfamiliar sensation for the experienced hiker yet novice SAR member. There was something about this place that tugged at her subconscious. A thrum of danger, a warning.
“I wonder…” Chance wrapped up the rest of her sandwich, a nagging thought compelling her to her feet, and looked at the rest of the group. “I need to go to the bathroom really quick.” Her two other team members nodded passively as they acknowledged her statement.
One guy, Luis, from another group caught her eye as she started to step away. “Chance, sure you wanna go alone? Travel together, buddy system and all that?” Some of the other guys exchanged smug or suggestive looks, but Chance could see genuine concern in Luis’s eyes. It took her off-guard since he was usually quiet when she was around.
“No, I’m good. I’ll just be a minute. Thanks though,” Chance smiled. Sticks cracking and boots squelching against the dampened ground, Chance stepped beyond the boundary of the campsite, hearing some of the others shout something about “being downwind” and was in the embrace of the forest again.
She’d learned to trust her instincts, despite them going “wrong” and turning her nickname against her all those years ago. This time, however, she didn’t run away from the place her senses had alerted her to - she moved toward it. Each time the hair on the back of her neck raised, she faced it and changed course.
Won’t go far. Just a little further. Then I’ll turn back if I… Chance’s foot bumped into something which ceased all movement. Looking down, her heart pounded with increasing intensity as she caught sight of a child’s shoe caught in the roots.
Oh no.
Chance rushed forward, careful to not disturb the ground in case there were additional clues, and examined the shoe. There was no doubt that this belonged to Aiden. The Buzz Lightyear logo was hard to forget. Hands shaking, Chance fumbled her radio and clamped down on the “talk” button to keep from dropping the device.
“Overwatch, this is Chance. I… I found something. Over.”
The radio chirped a minute later as Chance steadied her breathing, unable to tear her eyes away from the child’s shoe.
“Chance, this is Overwatch. What’d you find? And where? Over.”
“Overwatch, this is Chance. I’m still by the camp. Less than a quarter of a mile away maybe? West. It’s his shoe. It’s kind of wedged by one of the roots, but I would swear it’s his. Should I… approach? Over.”
The radio chirped again. “Chance, this is Overwatch. No. We don’t want the scene contaminated. Stay where you are. We’re sending others in your direction. Keep your radio on hand and we’ll lock into your GPS coordinates. What radio number do you have? Over.”
“Right, um…” Chance fumbled with the radio and saw the pealing away label from under the clear plastic tape meant to keep it waterproof. “Thirteen.” Brilliant. Lucky number too. “Over.”
“Chance, this is Overwatch. Everyone is on their way. Do you see anything else? Over.”
“Overwatch, this is Chance. No, I d-...” Chance stopped herself from finishing her sentence. As she scanned the endless funhouse of trees, each identical to the other, something immediately caught her attention. She leaned to the side to peer through the nearby trees as her eyes followed the straight line of something beyond that she hadn’t noticed before.
An entire staircase.
That’s what she saw.
A long, tall staircase leading to nowhere in particular.
“Chance? Chance? This is Overwatch. You there? Over.”
“Y-yeah. It’s…” Her voice died in her throat. The young woman dared not let her eyes leave this odd construction. She was sure she had walked near there and had looked in that direction. Had it always been there? Was this one of those natural landmarks that the locals knew about?
“Chance? This is Overwatch. Can you repeat that? Over.”
She swallowed hard and absently squeezed the radio’s trigger once more. “Yeah. I mean… Overwatch, this is… Chance. There’s something else here. It’s a… staircase?”
Not only was it a staircase, but it was getting closer and closer. There was something else too. She turned the radio down and listened, fearing it was the ambient static of the device she held in her hand. There it was again.
Low.
Humming?
“Chance? This is Overwatch. Repeat, please. You’re breaking up. Please, don’t move from your location. Stay where you are. Over.” The voice on the line was reassuring and firm, but also impossibly quiet. Chance blinked, stunned, and saw that it wasn’t the staircase that had gotten closer.
It was her.
She had stepped closer to this thing until she was practically at the base step. Stunned, she reached up and pinched her forearm so hard she physically winced, which seemed to quiet the odd thrumming she was hearing. Now in front of the stairs in a clearing she hadn’t noticed before, she could make out the wood grain and the faint streaks of dark purple stencil attempting to fade out of existence against the dark denim blue paint. The staircase itself, however, didn’t look weathered.
Pristine.
Untouched.
Completely out of place.
Chance stared at the curling handrail, heart skipping a beat as she heard the humming begin again, louder now. She tilted her head toward the sound. Was the humming making… words? Some part of her brain itched - yearned - to identify what it was saying. Some uncontrollable part of her brain leaned into the sound like a magnet to steel, even as some instinct deep in her chest warned her away.
She picked up just a fragmented phrase - “Curiosity. Just beyond the veil. Shh. You can turn back anytime… after you take one more step.” - and then her vision blurred. Her body moved forward, though she barely registered the movement.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Was she going up? Down?
What was she doing? Why was she out here? What was that sweet smell? And that music? It was so beautiful, but too far away.
Just…
A…
Little…
There was sudden pressure on the bridge of her nose.
Something rubbed against her forehead.
All at once, the distant blur was gone, and so was the music. Eyes tired, Chance blinked hard. It was like she had a rough night of sleep and an early morning to wake, but she was completely upright; and wet? More importantly, there was something near her face, which was undoubtedly the thing pinching the bridge of her nose.
She didn’t know what it was, but it turned to look back at her with its dark eyes. It was nearly completely silhouetted, whatever it was. Crossing her eyes, she barely made out what looked like humanoid features or some kind of sketching doll that was on her face.
Wait… what… what on earth is…
“Wha-.... UGH!” Chance stumbled back and flinched, a chill rocketing up her spine as she noticed the thing on her face, though blurry, reach back and fumble with something that was attached to it. She felt whatever the thing was push off of her face and was suddenly in clear view.
It was a man. Some kind of tiny man. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Clothing some kind of rag-tag assembly of leaves and mud smeared cloth. His eyes tore away from hers as he looked down toward the ground.
She wasn’t sure what possessed her. It was like her muscles moved on their own. With lightning reflexes, her hand snapped up, wrapped around the man, and all at once he was completely engulfed in her hand, the only thing visible remaining being his legs from the knees down. A moment later she saw that there was some kind of string attached to her hat and, with her free hand, she reached up and pulled it loose. It was a fishing hook attached to a line, which was then attached to the squirming figure in her hand. Chance didn’t know whether to be mortified or fascinated, but elected for a third option as she, for the first time, actually looked around at her surroundings.
One look and Chance knew immediately she was completely lost. Not only was she past her knees in water, but she didn’t recognize anything around her. No landmark. No trail. Her vision threatened to vignette, but the squirming and occasional thudding against the palm of her hand kept her focused.
Okay. What the freak is going on?! Get out of the water. Get onto land. Don’t let whatever this thing is go. Figure out where you are. Get back. Super simple.
Chance forced air in through her nose and out through her mouth while wading through the water back onto the banks. Her nostrils filled with the stench of stagnant moss water and the faintest hint of mint. Her shoes, filled with water and actively soaking through her socks and pants, made odd squelching sounds with each step, forcing water through her toes. Scanning the trees, she searched desperately for any sign of her fellow SAR members, but saw no one.
Duh! You have a radio. Just call it in.
Chance reached up to the clip where she kept her radio only to grasp air. Her free hand tapped her pockets frantically, but it was nowhere to be found. Her gut hollowed as she pulled out her phone and tapped the power button only to find it was dead.
Dead? How’s my phone dead? It was fully charged. And what happened to the radio? Did I drop it? And where’s the staircase? Where am I?
Chance stared at her clasped fist and realized the figure wasn’t moving anymore; at least, not thrashing anymore. The question of what was real and what wasn’t suddenly became the first and only priority as she considered what she may or may not be holding. Her finger reached up, almost with a will of its own, and nudged the exposed part of the thing’s feet. The initial fear that he wasn’t moving abated as she saw his feet flex against her nudge with controlled precision. Her eyes shifted toward the string that emerged from the top of her hand and the hook it was attached to as it swung like the branches of a willow tree.
She gave it a gentle tug, feeling the figure tense again, as she pulled the string loose, quickly giving it a once-over and looked back at the figure’s feet. Chance knew what needed to happen next, though she wasn’t sure why she was so apprehensive. If this was a dream, it would be nothing. If it was real, what could some tiny dude actually do? She sat down on a nearby dry patch that was clear of any underbrush and exhaled slowly as her heart fluttered nervously.
Okay. Not all at once. Don’t want to drop it - him - and I don’t want him getting away.
Chance reached up and removed her hat to scratch her scalp before she slowly eased her grip on her top three fingers. Like pedals of a flower, they unfurled and revealed exactly what she thought she saw. The man had his eyes closed and obviously tilted his head from side to side, possibly listening if she had to guess. Everything about him was impossibly small, yet perfectly proportionate to him at the same time. From clothes to the pack on his side, he looked like some kind of fae adventurer, a sprite of the woods ready to aid on a quest.
She saw his jaw clench just as his eyes opened and locked immediately with hers. He kept his body tense, nearly stiff as a board, as each took measure of the other. Chance wasn’t sure what came over her, but some instinct to ease the tension and unease he was feeling swept over her. Unsure if he could understand, she defaulted to keeping her tone quiet and gentle, as if she were trying to coax a timid animal to her.
“Hey… hey there… little guy.” Chance felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she talked to the figure in her hand. If he could understand, then talking to him like a child wasn’t endearing. The irritated puff from him was hint enough, but Chance wasn’t sure that she cared as her fascination blocked out all other input. She watched him push himself upright and turn his eyes back to her.
“What… no…. W-who… are you?” she asked cautiously while lifting him to eye-level, not wanting him to feel completely outsized or that she was looking down at him, literally.
You’re so human…
“Someone who just saved your enormous hide. Now, would you mind letting me go? I’m not a stress ball, doll, toy, or pet and I don’t like being coddled like one.” His voice was louder than Chance thought it would’ve been. Deeper too. There was something in his eyes that took her aback, jaw slackening as the harshness of his dark eyes bore a hole into her. He tugged at his legs from under her fingers again.
“I… excuse me?” Chance heard herself asking.
“You heard me. Let. Me. Go. I’ll even say please as a courtesy. You humans like that sort of thing,” he retorted.
Is this happening? Am I really talking to some guy the size of my hand?
“You… talk,” she breathed. “And you’re so… human.”
The little man rolled his eyes and his mouth was moving, though Chance’s spiraling thoughts, like a hurricane, blew away any sense of manners out of the window.
“How’d you get out here?” Chance interrupted, registering the man’s facial expression had shifted to exasperation only after she asked, “I… uh… sorry. Wait. Why… why were you on my face? And why was I in the water? Did… did you do that?”
The silence stretched as he reached up and rubbed his temples, hands resting there before addressing her. “Oh, you’re talking to me now? Listening to what I have to say?”
Chance’s cheeks burned hot again. Her brain was reeling with questions and listening wasn’t always her strong suit. “Okay, okay. No need to get snarky. I…” She didn’t have time to explain as the miniscule man interrupted her.
“Really? That’s a relief,” the man scoffed. “If you’re listening to me, then have the decency to honor my request and let… me… go.” Chance had to admit that his boldness was inspiring in its own way, but he spoke in a tone that could she could only describe as bitter defiance.
I have no idea where I am, and so far he’s my only clue. If I let him go, he’s just going to run away and I’ll be stuck out here with no answers.
“How do I know you’re not just going to run off?” she asked skeptically.
“You don’t, and it is not up to you whether I stay or go,” stated the man.
She stared at the little man in her hand, who couldn’t’ve been taller than four or so inches, and considered her options.
She remembered the woods, but not the ones that were around her. She remembered walking with the others through the trees when she broke line of sight with them, hearing something. Something distant? Something close? A doorway? A set of stairs?
The whole thing was a blur.
The only thing she really remembered clearly was this tiny man perched on the bridge of her nose before slipping off and falling. She’d caught him and found herself in water. Now he seemed annoyed and not the least bit grateful.
Who was he?
Where did he come from?
Now thinking about the paths before her, Chance had a decision to make.
This little guy could maybe handle himself; but also how could he? He was so small. It was too dangerous to have him running around, and she had an empty section in her bag where he could cool off and be safe.
She could also guarantee this little guy wouldn’t run away. She wanted - needed - answers. Even if he was a snarky, sarcastic thorn, he seemed to be aware and knowledgeable. She had some string and could easily slip it around his ankles or midsection. She had him pinned, and what could he really do? He certainly didn’t seem trustworthy and was obviously eager to flee.
Or she could listen to him and hope beyond hope that he didn’t vanish into the forest and that he actually stayed not only to answer her questions, but also to help. She was out here for a reason, and she wasn’t leaving - couldn’t leave - without finding the answers.
The choices were before her.
Her stomach was in knots, but were the roles reversed she would desperately hope and pray that some massive giant wouldn’t try to keep her trapped against her will. Inhaling slowly and holding the other hand up in surrender, she made her choice.
“Okay. Okay,” she said quietly. Her fingers relaxed. He now sat freely on her palm, face revealing his surprise, even more so as she lowered her hand to the ground until his feet touched the ground. “I’m sorry. Alright? You startled me and I reacted poorly, so let’s just call it even and go from there.”
The little man shifted his weight off of her palm, moving with painstaking precision. He moved like prey wary of a predator, eyes never leaving hers. It was like he was treating her like a cat ready to pounce if he moved too quickly. Chance could see it in his face that he didn’t trust her and obviously didn’t think she was going to let him go, but there was also curiosity, an unspoken fascination in the fact that he was indeed on the ground able to walk on his own accord.
The man backed away slowly about a foot before, to Chance’s dismay, he turned on his heel and began walking away briskly toward a nearby tree. He moved with purpose, and Chance felt that knot tighten in her stomach.
“Hey! Wait! Please, I…”
“Give me a minute!” The man snapped over his shoulder. He stepped up to the tree and Chance watched as he grasped the bark, hand barely able to grip the ridges of the wood, and lean forward. It looked like he was fighting the urge to hurl, and Chance didn’t blame him. She was starting to feel a bit queasy herself, and she hadn’t just been snatched up by a giant.
Several impossibly long minutes passed as Chance watched the miniature man.
Garrick, on the other hand, was on the verge of losing breakfast and consciousness. His head was spinning. He couldn’t believe he was no longer being held and that he was alive, more the former than the latter. His fingers gripped the bark with every ounce of strength he possessed as he willed his heart to keep from beating a hole right through him. It was a Borrower’s instinct that told him he was still being watched.
At the moment, that was his primary concern.
How was he going to get away?
More importantly, why had she let him go?
She’d even said sorry.
It was his own morbid curiosity that kept him from running off into the undergrowth, which is what any sane Borrower would’ve done. Faculties returning to him, Garrick glanced over his shoulder and saw the woman, unmoving, a few feet away. She sat perched on a root wad in a kind of clearing like a bird of prey, eyes able to pick up on the slightest movement he made.
If I make a run for it, will she leave me alone? Or give chase? Do I even want to know? Garrick observed the woman and dared to answer his own question. Yes. I do.
“I guess I should be grateful and say thank you for not… doing something indecent,” Garrick admitted.
“Indecent?” the woman echoed.
“Yeah, like… shoving me in your backpack… or… putting a leash on my neck or something on my leg,” explained Garrick with a quick gesture to the pack on her back. Chance looked away, embarrassed to think those were options she had momentarily considered, before nodding.
“I mean… yeah. Sure. Um… you’re welcome,” she replied, hoping Garrick couldn’t see the flash of those possibilities in her eyes. “Does that… happen to you often?”
“Not to me, but more than you’d think.” There was a pause before Garrick spoke again. “You could stand to thank me back, especially since I saved your life back there.” He didn’t mean to sound so forceful, but it was true. The confusion that flicked across the woman’s features perfectly demonstrated the creature’s ability to hypnotize.
“I… thank you. Wait… saved my life? What’re you…”
“Sorry, but I’m going to stop you right there and, to put it simply, break your brain a bit. You were under a kind of spell. A trance. Lured. A thing I call a ‘splasher’ was luring you into the water to eat you. Just know that if not for me, you’d be sucking in water and drowning in the mouth of the splasher,” Garrick explained. The surprise on her face prompted Garrick to continue. “Yes. Splasher. I don’t know if that’s what it’s called, but it is real. Splashers. Stalkers. Ghosts. Creepers. Turks, which are awful by the way. Well, they all are, but those are my least favorite. Anyway. Everything that you think might be real probably is, especially monsters and especially out here, and at every turn they are going to make you see, hear, and believe whatever they want because they are hungry and want to eat you. Okay. Now, deal with that info for a second and I’ll be over here when you’re done trying to grasp it.”
Garrick plopped down on the ground and pressed his spine into the ridges of the bark. He chanced a glance at the woman every thirty seconds or so, literally watching the expressions on her face evolve and grind to a halt as she processed the Borrower’s words. It was only fair. If he was being honest with himself, Garrick thought that she was taking it well. He’d always imagined humans fainting or screaming wildly before charging into the wild only to meet the thing they were afraid of in the first place.
Chance, on the other hand, quickly began piecing together the odd occurrences she’d witnessed in her life. Weird dreams. Rustling in the trees in the dead of winter when there were no leaves left clinging to the branches. Whistling in the woods by her home. Feeling something watching her or calling her name - the voice always just beyond her sight and always a little off. With the thought these things weren’t just part of her imagination, Chance would’ve argued that she felt reassured when her eyes locked with the small man’s eyes.
“You said everything at every turn is going to make me see, hear, and believe whatever because they want to eat me, right?” asked Chance.
“Yeah, and you’re taking it well,” observed Garrick while folding his arms across his chest, finger absent mindedly tracing the natural circular pattern on the top of his pin. There was something in the human’s eyes that he didn’t like; however, it evaporated as she spoke to him again.
“Then how do I know you’re not some kind of ‘lure’ or whatever or that you’re not trying to lure me?”
Garrick, disbelievingly, snorted as a bout of laughter erupted out of him. It was such an unexpected question that, caught off guard, the Borrower felt genuinely amused. The look of mild offence blended with a subtle resentment in the human’s eyes, which dampened his reaction. His head swung from side to side, shaking away the sensation, while genuinely considering her question.
“You know, touche. That’s the kind of thinking that’s gonna keep you alive out here,” complemented Garrick. “But, I’m not the kind of thing you need to worry about.”
“Sounds like something a lure might say before eating my eyes,” the human mumbled. Her cheeks were faintly rosy at the top by her blue-green eyes, though her ears were scarlet. She was obviously feeling defensive, something Garrick didn’t expect to see in a human, but at least she was thinking like a survivor.
“True but, no offense, I wouldn’t eat you even on my last leg. That would turn me into something far worse and I’m tapping out with my faculties intact if and when that day comes,” Garrick said, though he wasn’t sure if she believed him.
It was her next question that silenced the amusement he felt before.
“So… if you’re not a ‘splasher’ and not one of whatever you say is far worse, then what exactly are you? Just some… small human?”
Garrick needed to choose his next words carefully. Disclosing that monsters were real was one thing. Many of them were out of their minds anyway and probably didn’t have friends and families to care and worry about. He doubted they had some kind of will of their own other than what was necessary to fulfill their hunger or bloodlust.
“Something like that,” he said coyly. The woman and the man, both refusing to swerve, lingered in the stretching silence until, finally, Chance caved.
“Fine, keep your secrets, tiny,” she spat. Garrick hated that term, and his bristle was noticed by the woman, but she didn’t press and instead put pressure on another point. “Speaking of, how’d something as little as you save me from this ‘splasher’ thing? Does it have something to do with this?” Chance held up the hook and line. Garrick stared at his hook and line, an invaluable tool he’d kept for years through everything, and hoped the woman wouldn’t do anything reckless like toss it or put it into her own pack.
“No,” said Garrick with measured caution. He stood and dusted off the fragments of leaves and moss that clung to his posterior. “That’s what I use to climb tall, lumbering things like you or things like trees when I need to get away or down onto the ground quickly. And I’d thank you to give it back. Again, I’ll add please.”
“After you answer a few more questions,” Chance insisted, seeing the gleam in the small man’s eyes, one that hinted how much he needed the thing in her hands. “Do you know where we are? In the woods I mean. Like, if I showed you a map, would you be able to tell me where we are?”
“Yes, I’ve been around this whole forest. The islands. The woods. The ponds. I have my own maps too, probably better than yours since I know what areas you should avoid.”
“How long’ve you been out here then? I mean, how long did that take you since you’re…” She held up her hand, indicating his size with her splayed thumb and index finger. The Borrower hated his entire physical being could be measured by two human fingers, but he wasn’t about to shut down now. Not when she clearly didn’t think he was capable on his own.
“My whole life. I’ve been out here a long time and spend season after season out here cataloguing the monsters, creatures, and odd happenings,” replied Garrick.
“How’d you learn about them? Like, did you read about them or…”
“Look, I’ve been doing this for a long time. I usually get my intel from stories around campfires and direct experiences, hiding and listening to humans. Observation of the entities. Logging. Tracking. Keeping quiet and testing things when it’s safe or, a few times, as a last resort,” replied Garrick.
“So, years? Is this, like, a job?”
“No. It’s just something I do. I’m curious and it keeps u… uh…” Garrick paused. He wanted to say ‘us safe,’ but implicating the others. He swallowed the word and instead finished with, “Me… safe.”
“Okay,” Chance breathed, processing everything and still unsure if this was real or now. Then how’d you ‘save’ me?” Garrick’s jaw tightened, so Chance pried further. “Do you know magic? Killed it? Distracted it? What did you do?”
He had to admit that lying and telling the human he had magic was appealing, but undoubtedly the human would ask for proof he didn’t have; not that he needed to justify his actions or methods. His irritation felt like a simmering kettle, one degree away from possibly boiling over into anger and making him do something drastic like storm off without his hook.
With a sigh, he replied, “I broke the spell.” The woman opened her mouth, most likely unsatisfied with the answer, but Garrick held up a finger and fished out a mint leaf and showed the blood on his palm, careful the two didn’t touch so he didn’t waste supplies. “Splashers don’t like mint and are distracted by cattail fluff. A bit of blood on a mint leaf spread on your forehead and some cattail fluff spread behind for good measure and *boom* you’re no longer lured.”
Chance’s hand instinctually lifted to touch her forehead and, when she pulled it away, found a small streak of drying blood on her finger. Awestruck, she asked, “And that’s why you were on my face?”
“Yeah. I could’ve tried putting it on your neck, but there was a better chance of it working if it was on your forehead.”
“And how were you not affected?”
“Really? Seriously, you have too many questions.” Garrick sighed in exasperation. “I already applied the mint and blood on my forehead and wasn’t looking at the water with both eyes. I kept one closed.”
“That’s a thing?”
“Yes, that’s a thing, and you’d do well to remember it anytime you’re by the water. Now, may I have my hook back?” asked Garrick. Chance was tempted to keep the hook, but winning the guy over - especially when he knew so much about the woods - was important. She lowered the hook and leaned forward ever so slightly, the now warm metal pinched between her thumb and forefinger. Like holding a nut out for a baby squirrel, Chance dared not even breathe as the man approached cautiously, eyes never leaving her as if she were about to make another grab for him.
Garrick, now next to those long, fleshy tree trunks humans called fingers and grasped at the hand-warmed metal; however, as he pulled he saw the woman’s fingers tense, locking the hook in place. The hair on the back of his neck raised. His gut screamed to move away, but experience kept him stationary, eyes following up her arm and to her face. The Borrower half expected to see a teasing or gloating look, but he was instead was met with earnest.
“Do you have a name?” she asked.
“Of course I do. Everything has a name.” Garrick attempted to pull the hook loose again. No luck.
“What is it? Is that… okay? If I ask your name?”
“Give my hook back and I’ll think about it.” Garrick tugged again at the hook, grunting as he pulled with both hands now.
“I’m Chance. Well, Chelsey, but I go by Chance.”
This made the Borrower pause, confused. “Chance? What kind of a name is that?”
“What kind of a name is ‘splasher’ or ‘tiny’? Which is what I’m going to call you if you don’t tell me who you are,” said Chance.
“Sad thing is I suspect you would too,” mumbled the Borrower. The idea was a lousy, dangerous one. Then again, who would believe her? The answer was anyone if she managed to get a picture of him or, worse, changed her mind and attempted to trap him.
“Tiny it is then,” he grumbled. Disappointed, Chance let the hook slip from her fingers and watched as the little man quickly wound up the line and affixed the hook to his belt. “Now, it’s my turn to interrogate you. What on earth are you doing out here? This isn’t near any of the main trails.”
“I… well, to be honest, I don’t know where here is,” said Chance. She wrestled her bag free from her back and pulled out the map she kept in case of emergencies and unfurled it. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was immense for the tiny man. She laid it onto the ground as flat as possible and surveyed her surroundings, pulling out her compass and setting it on the base to weigh it down for the tiny stranger. He walked across the map with defined certainty, passed over the visitor centers, and nearly walked off the other side of the map before pointing to a place on the far north side.
“We are here,” he said definitively, kneeling and pointing to a small cove on the map. “Now, where do you remember being last?” The way he phrased the question was what struck her as odd, like he already suspected something was weird.
“Um… the… visitor’s center. Well, this one here. We were looking for…” Chance felt like she had just been struck by lightning. “Aiden! That’s right. I… I found his shoe. And there was…” An image flashed in front of her eyes of that odd blue staircase. “Staircase? I was near a… blue staircase.”
“You were what now…?” asked the man as he stood and took several distinct steps backward, eyes filled with an uneasy skepticism and disbelief. “A staircase? Don’t tell me. You went up them?”
“I… not on purpose. I just…”
“Let me guess. You heard a voice calling you forward? A bit of buzzing? Weird fuzzy head sensation?” asked Garrick. The human’s nod confirmed it. His gut twisted. He pressed the palm of his hand into the notch between his eyebrows. “I swear, of all the humans I could’ve run across. You’re really living up to your name, you know? Taking a chance on the stairs. Taking a chance coming into the woods during migration season. And who is Aiden?”
But Chance wasn’t listening. Not really. She was staring blankly at the map as her eyes traced over the distance between where she was and where she used to be. Her hands slipped into her pack as she examined the food rations she still had. None were missing, but that was impossible. The trek alone would’ve taken her two days on foot. One in really good weather conditions and if she was sprinting. Not only that, but she would’ve needed a boat.
“How… how did I…”
“Get up here?” finished Garrick. “It’s a thing that happens with the stairs. You go up and sometimes you don’t come back. I’ve seen it happen. You don’t ever ever EVER go up them unless you have a death wish or are feeling really lucky; which, in a way, you are. Sometimes you just go up and then right back down. Other times, you end up someplace entirely different, time, space and all. Now, before you bring more bad luck or attract something that’s going to snap us both in half, I’ll say safe travels and best of luck to you.”
“Wait!” Chance reached forward involuntarily, startling Garrick back several steps. His hand grasped at his weapon, though he didn’t draw just yet.
“What?”
“You… I need your help. Please?” pleaded Chance.
“My help? What can I do?” asked Garrick skeptically. Chance had a look of desperation that warned the Borrower away, but his same macabre curiosity kept him rooted to the spot, continuing to talk to the human.
“You… you know the woods and the things that are out here. I’m… looking for someone. A kid. His name is Aiden. He vanished without a trace except for his one shoe and if he went up the stairs or if a ‘splasher’ or whatever got to him, then you might be the only one able to help me find him. Please?” explained Chance.
Garrick, heart hammering, began to calm and hollow. Too many times he’d heard of stories like this, a missing kid or hikers that never came back, and had seen the missing posters in the visitor centers when he returned during the winter months. He hated anytime the creatures of the woods claimed a life, and what was worse was that it was a kid. Still, he knew the numbers.
“How long has he been gone?”
“Just a day? Maybe two?”
Garrick sighed and shook his head. “He’s probably gone.”
“But…”
“No buts. Look, it’s migration season for a lot of these things. I haven’t seen numbers this high for a really long time. I don’t know why it’s happening, but it is. If he went up the stairs, he might still be nowhere. He might never come back to this forest. He might be on the other side of the world or forward or backward or anything in between. Do you even know how long you were gone?” asked Garrick.
The question hit like a lead brick. Chance felt herself pale, stomach churning in knots. This little guy knew so much more than she could even begin to fathom, and breaking it down would take weeks.
“I… I don’t know. None of my rations are missing,” she mumbled. “But… that doesn’t matter. Come on, please? I… I need this. I need to find him. We need to find him.”
“Oh no,” Garrick began backing away off of the map and away from the human. “I’ve had my fill of humans for the day, especially ones that almost got turned into river jerky. I did my good deed and kept your butt out of the water and away from shredding teeth. You know where you are now and how to get back. You should be able to get to that visitor center by the end of the day.” He tapped it with his foot and backed away. “Nice meeting you, Chance. If you could, keep seeing me to yourself; not that anyone would actually believe you anyway. So long.”
Chance watched as the tiny man gave a partial bow, whether it was meant to mock her or was just a quirk of his unclear, and her chest clenched in desperation.
No! I… I can’t just let him leave. There has to be something. Right? Something I can trade… or give… or… Chance felt the fog of confusion part momentarily as a thought occurred to her. She was still hopelessly lost as to what to do, but he wasn’t and he’d given away a big piece of himself without even knowing it.
“What about a trade?” she asked, hoping he’d take the bait.
He kept walking and waved a hand back at her, saying, “No, I’m good. I have supplies and I’ve had enough of humans for one day.”
“I meant information.”
Garrick continued maneuvering around a nearby branch, nearly out of sight of the human, and called back, “I don’t know what information you have that I don’t already know.”
Chance, desperate, called back, “I can help you figure out more about the monsters that’s not just something you heard around a campfire.” Garrick paused, step faltering, and Chance knew she had his attention. Treating it like bait, she teased it and hoped it would draw him in. The tiny man turned around and scanned Chance’s face for any deception he could pick up. He couldn’t see any deception, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.
“You’re lying now?” he accused. “Poor way to pay me back.”
“I’m not lying. I can help you figure out more about the monsters. Research. Stories. If you want to run a test or figure out what they’re actually called, I can help you either way,” Chance offered.
Garrick considered it for a moment, arms folded across his chest. “You didn’t know mint and blood on the forehead kept you safe from a splasher.” His accusation was an accurate one, but Chance had an idea as to what it might be and ran with it.
“No, but I think the thing is actually called a pepie, a type of water spirit thing rumored to be in the area.”
Garrick’s face visually slackened. The name sounded familiar to him. Was she just making it up? Or did she know more than he thought?
“Say more,” he said, the hint of encouragement apparent.
“I’ve heard of all sorts of stories and can help you do research, but you have to help me too. Okay?”
Garrick clenched his jaw as his knowledge hungry mind clawed at him. If he could know these things' true names and more about them, he’d not only be safer in the wilds, but also be able to try other tests and focus on other things he didn’t know about. He hated the fact his notes were incomplete and somewhat “wrong,” but now was a golden opportunity to have unrestricted access to research he’d only dreamed of.
Chance was offering an opportunity, but also the possibility of getting involved in the most dangerous venture he’d ever been in. This would be him risking his life for the possibility of learning something he didn’t know.
She might know something really useful. She might be bluffing. She’s just doing this for a kid who is probably already gone. She still wants to try though. Curses! Why am I like this?!
“You know that kid is probably dead, right?” asked Garrick, not wanting to provide any modicum of false hope. “The things out here are dangerous and if he came across any of them, he’s gone.”
“I know. It’s the risk of being on the search and rescue team; but his parents deserve to know and he deserves our best effort in finding him, and that means you right now. Both of us,” Chance replied. Garrick rubbed his face in both his hands and sighed.
“I’ll give you three days. Got it? If we don’t find him after that, we’re going back to the visitor center and you fill your end of the bargain.” Garrick’s stern tone was cold like a granite slab, checkered with silent motivations, hopes, fears, and curiosities. Chance needed no other invitation.
“Deal.”
She agreed too easily. She really doesn’t get how dangerous this is. Garrick sighed and steeled himself, thoughts quickly gathering because there were some crucial choices ahead, and one wrong move could prove detrimental.
“Okay then. Now, if he was in the same area, there are a couple places he might’ve ‘appeared’ if he’s back. We can start heading there to those areas, forest or islands, and hope that he’s either there or that he’ll appear in the next few days. On the other hand, we can check for any clues where you were before you wandered into the water. It could be you two got spat out in the same general area.”
Chance thought about the options in front of her.
“So, its area one by the forest, area two by the islands, or by the water over there?”
“Pretty much. Your call. It’ll take a couple days to get to the forest, nightfall for the islands, or immediately by the water. ”
It was decided. Without knowing this human and whether or not they had the will and strength of spirit to break free on their own, Garrick had to take the risk.
Forehead it is.
It was going to be a trick and a half, the human’s head being covered by that weird hat thing. Time was of the essence though and there was no margin for error. Garrick glanced to the water and swore he could see those pale, luminous eyes, teeth pulled into a snarling grin.
Step.
Step.
The water was up to the human’s knees now.
Gritting his teeth, Garrick tore his eyes away from the slitted eyes of the splasher and tugged his hook free from the zipper securing him to the human. The uneven steps threatened to throw him off balance, but he was as sure footed as they came and spun on his heel, foot grinding into the coarse fabric of the pack and jumped.
Launched forward and to the side, he threw his hook and tugged it taut as it caught the brim of the hat. Suspended in mid-air only for a moment, Garrick glanced over his shoulder and glimpsed the vacant features of the human currently ensnared by the creature. The Borrower’s heart seized as he passed directly in front of the human’s face, knowing full well he was in their direct line of sight; at least, he would be if they weren’t completely at the mercy of the creature luring them into the water.
Not now! Just swipe and jump. Get away. Drop in the water once the eyes are clear.
Garrick saw the odd yellow-green cloud over the human’s eyes and knew this was his one shot. Just as he swung back from the momentum of his leap forward, his feet planted on the human’s cheek while the rest of his body lunged forward on the line. Garrick swiped wildly as his heart pounded continuously like a war drum warning him away from his current circumstance.
Missed.
The leaves barely left a draft on the human’s forehead.
Come on!
Garrick could see the human was up to their waist now. Dark tendrils were starting to snake down by their ankles. He was nearly out of time. He threw himself backward and forward again. With his momentum, he lunged forward once more, practically throwing himself toward the human’s face.
This time, he snagged a handful of the human’s hair, which lined their face in short cut bangs, and grasped the bridge of their nose between his knees, rope tucked under his armpit. Leaves tight in his hand, he pressed his full weight into the leaves and dragged it across the human’s forehead. The smear of blood and oil from the mint leaf created an uneven arc as Garrick’s arm swiped across his body.
Time slowed for that brief moment. Garrick looked over the top of his leg as he remained perched awkwardly on the human’s nose at the human’s enormous eye. The glaze cleared, the yellow-green fading like the colors of dawn from the early morning, and was followed by one slow blink and then several rapid ones. The brow Garrick was currently stabilized on furrowed and the nose scrunched, nearly bucking him off of the appendage.
A guttural sucking sound raised the hair on Garrick’s neck as an audible splash disturbed the water behind him. The tendrils retracted, the creature retreating into the murky depths, leaving defeated and hungry as it rightfully should. Garrick exhaled audibly, tension in his shoulders releasing, and reached backward into his pack to pull out some cattail fluff just for good measure when the consequences of his actions literally stared him in the face. There was little doubt that the human was no longer under the spell of the splasher, and that put him in a precarious position as he was literally perched on the human’s nose.
Eyes blown wide open and crossed to stare directly at him, Garrick imagined he and the human shared the same expression - mouths agape and rigidity returning to their bodies as each stared into the others’ eyes to the best of their abilities. All thought vaporized. Instinct abandoned him as the Borrower felt entranced by immense blue-green eyes.
He’d encountered many beasts and creatures, but only in this moment did Garrick fully realize the gravity of what he’d done.
“Wha-.... UGH!” The human flinched and began backing out of the water, threatening to knock Garrick loose.
Shoot! Move, you idiot!
Garrick’s muscles pulled taut like that of a bow as he fumbled the rope and threw himself backward, pushing off of the human’s cheeks by the base of their nose. Recognition dawned on the human’s features as Garrick was now sure he was in clear, unblurred view. His legs snaked around the line and he began to slide down. Each motion was planned and calculated. Sliding down the rope. Flipping into the water. Diving down into the murk so the human couldn’t find him. Making his way through the cattails and vanishing into the forest as the human scoured the ground for him.
He made it three inches down the line as the momentum carried him back away from the human’s face only to crash into an outstretched hand.
The fingers crested into his peripheral vision. His spine collided and fit into the crevasse of the human’s palm. No sound escaped. Not even a gasp of surprise eeked out of him. It all happened too fast. Like the snap of a mousetrap, the fingers closed around Garrick’s body, instantly restraining him. Arms pinned to his front as he continued to cling to the rope and face currently smashed by the pad of a finger, the Borrower realized in that lightning fast moment that he’d been caught by the one thing he was actually terrified of out here.
The only thing free was his feet, which he attempted to maneuver into kicking the base of the human’s palm. He only managed to struggle feebly while the hand that contained him whirled around, churning his stomach worse than a free fall from a tall branch in a tree. The sound of the human wading through the water was the least of his concerns, but try as he might, Garrick couldn’t wiggle free. The sploosh of the water turned into sopping steps, the squelch of the moist banks giving way under the human’s feet. His heart beat fervently as he steeled himself.
Calm down.
Breathe.
It felt impossible with the pad of the human’s finger nearly smothering him. The heat of the hand around him was sweltering. The unfair size of the human appendage flexed imperceptibly for a human, but sent Garrick’s mind reeling.
Oh F-! They’re going to crush me! This is it. I knew better. I knew better and I did it anyway. What was I thinking?!
The hand relaxed as the human jostled around. Garrick couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on in the human’s mind as he was held aloft.
Calm down. You need to get out of here. You can do this. It’s just a human… just… a human. I’ve faced scarier. I’ve seen worse! But… have I? No. Don’t think about that right now. I can get out of this. I just have to clear my mind. Focus on the task at hand. Focus on getting away, whatever it takes.
His mantra flooded his thoughts.
What is mine stays with me. What is not, passes by me. Hear the truth, not the echo. If the forest calls, I do not answer. If the forest calls, I do not answer. Listen to the wind, not the whispers.
His struggles calmed. Garrick forced muffled breath after muffled breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. The moment he could see, he’d be able to make a better plan. Until then, resistance and effort was futile. He relaxed, body practically falling limp as he embraced the unknown.
The Borrower didn’t fight or dare move as the fingers flexed again, the sounds of the squelching now becoming more subtle. Garrick resisted the urge to flinch as he felt something prod at his exposed feet. He didn’t even fight as the rope in his hands was tugged free as he remained constricted within those fleshy columns that dwarfed him.
You’ve been seen. You’re caught. Might as well go for the trifecta, especially if it gets me out of this.
There was an immense jostling followed by something that sounded like a nervous exhalation.
That’s the sound of bracing if I’ve ever heard one. Garrick calmed his breathing and steeled himself, taking his own breath to brace what was about to happen.
The top three fingers eased their grasp on his body, keeping his legs locked in place, unfurling like a morning glory, timid and slow. Based on his position, he knew he had been laid on his back or in somewhat of a horizontal position. The mix of cold shadow and bright light told him they were in a shaded area, but they hadn’t gone far from the edge of the water. The Borrower had mere moments to acclimate to his new surroundings now that he’d been carried to someplace new. Eyes squinted shut. One breath.
Open.
Garrick opened his eyes, jaw stiffened, as his vision was nearly consumed by the features of the human. It took all his willpower to tear his eyes away from those blue-green eyes that could’ve held him in place with a glance. Eyes darting away, Garrick felt a spark of ease. He recognized the canopy of trees and the scent that lingered of moss and stagnant water. There were some hollows nearby he’d used to hide in seasons passed which he could use again if he could make it to the ground.
The movement of the human’s other hand caught his attention. Much like how a cat would pick up the slightest movement from a flittering bird or stealthed mouse, the Borrower’s innate apprehension to human hands locked onto the human’s free hand lifting up by his midsection before freezing and quickly retracting to cover her mouth.
Her. She… oh great.
Garrick could see it clearly now that the hat was off of her head. The cut of the hair. The softer features no longer consumed with vacancy inflicted by some creature. The subtle bumps across her chest no longer hidden beneath the backpack straps. He’d been warned all his life about humans, young boys to be precise, but he’d always thought that girls, specifically young adult women, were far more dangerous. They were prone to sensitivities and maternal instincts; and that went for his kind as well as humans.
Now knowing he was in the clutches of one gave the Borrower no comfort.
Her mouth began moving, and immediately Garrick felt himself bristling.
“Hey… hey there… little guy.” The woman’s voice admittedly was soft and not shattering his eardrums, but in that curious, cooing tone. The initial panic nearly vaporized entirely while Garrick stared into the woman’s features and was replaced with mild annoyance.
Why is she talking to me like a child? I’m pretty sure I’m older than her.
His exhale came out in an irritated puff and, as weird as the sensation was to place his hands onto hers, he pushed himself upright now that it was only his legs being restrained. Looking up into her features, Garrick felt his fear subsiding. The thought of all the creatures and monsters he’d faced being ten times more intimidating than this woman crossed his mind, and he realized his terror came not from the human, but the simple fact that humans didn’t follow the same rules as the monsters he’d studied for most of his life.
Garrick knew how to fight, ward, and avoid everything in these woods except for humans, hence their power over him.
Calm down. Why’re you freaking out? I’ve faced worse, and they couldn’t understand me. This one can. I can’t talk to the others. If she’s smart, she’ll listen and that’ll be that. Worst case… well… I doubt she’s got anything in that bag that can keep me contained for long.
I can do this.
“What… no…. W-who… are you?” she asked cautiously. Her hand flexed slightly while lifting him up to be more eye-level with her.
Garrick, taking the gamble of a lifetime, met her gaze with determined defiance as he wriggled and failed to pull his legs free from her encompassing grip.
“Someone who just saved your enormous hide. Now, would you mind letting me go? I’m not a stress ball, doll, toy, or pet and I don’t like being coddled like one.” He hoped the human wouldn’t lash out, but recognized that he was still in a precarious situation. That said, he was never one to sugar coat anything and wasn’t about to rearrange who he was just because he was in a pinch. If something bad was going to happen, he was going out as himself.
He’d made that decision a long time ago.
He instantly picked up on the surprise and mild offence in the woman’s expression as she looked at him incredulously. Her jaw slackened, fingers loosened ever so slightly but didn’t relinquish their grip on his legs. To emphasize his point, Garrick tugged at his legs again in a vain attempt to free himself.
“I… excuse me?” she asked.
“You heard me. Let. Me. Go. I’ll even say please as a courtesy. You humans like that sort of thing.” Garrick’s heart would’ve given away his nervousness if this human could see the way it was pounding faster and faster like some kind of fleeing animal. He was barely able to keep his voice forceful and level. The human, to his dismay, ignored his demand as her eyes inventoried his body, examining him as if to memorize every detail.
“You… talk,” she breathed. “And you’re so… human.”
Garrick rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure it looks like that to you, now will you please…”
“How’d you get out here?” she interrupted. Garrick thought for a moment that she might be in some kind of trance still, but she wasn’t exhibiting any other symptoms - meaning this was just a human being a human. Frustrated, Garrick reached up and began rubbing his temples, mouth open to speak, when the girl shook her head as if to shake away a thought, looked around the forest where she’d leaned against a nearby tree, and she continued. “I… uh… sorry. Wait. Why… why were you on my face? And why was I in the water? Did… did you do that?”
Garrick let the silence sit while looking up into her curious features, hands still pressed against his temples, as he asked. “Oh, you’re talking to me now? Listening to what I have to say?”
“Okay, okay. No need to get snarky. I…” the woman began to retort.
“Really? That’s a relief,” scoffed Garrick, interrupting her. “If you’re listening to me, then have the decency to honor my request and let… me… go.”
The woman’s jaw clenched defiantly, and Garrick swore he felt her fingers tighten around his legs. Still, he held firm and didn’t dare to break his gaze away. Silence embracing them as each stared down the other, it was the woman who broke first.
“How do I know you’re not just going to run off?” she asked skeptically.
“You don’t, and it is not up to you whether I stay or go,” stated Garrick.
She stared at the little man in her hand, who couldn’t’ve been taller than four or so inches, and considered her options.
She remembered the woods, but not the ones that were around her. She remembered walking with the others through the trees when she broke line of sight with them, hearing something. Something distant? Something close? A doorway? A set of stairs?
The whole thing was a blur.
The only thing she really remembered clearly was this tiny man perched on the bridge of her nose before slipping off and falling. She’d caught him and found herself in water. Now he seemed annoyed and not the least bit grateful.
Who was he?
Where did he come from?
Now thinking about the paths before her, she had a decision to make.
This little guy could maybe handle himself; but also how could he? He was so small. It was too dangerous to have him running around, and she had an empty section in her bag where he could cool off and be safe.
She could also guarantee this little guy wouldn’t run away. She wanted - needed - answers. Even if he was a snarky, sarcastic thorn, he seemed to be aware and knowledgeable. She had some string and could easily slip it around his ankles or midsection. She had him pinned, and what could he really do? He certainly didn’t seem trustworthy and was obviously eager to flee.
Or she could listen to him and hope beyond hope that he didn’t vanish into the forest and that he actually stayed not only to answer her questions, but also to help. She was out here for a reason, and she wasn’t leaving - couldn’t leave - without finding the answers.
| ~ What should she do? ~ |
What should she do?
Put the little guy into her backpack, find someplace while he cools off
Keep him from running away and get necessary answers because he'll run away
Listen to the little guy and put him down, attempting to earn trust
Holy smokes, I'm holding a tiny man! This is too much - pass out...
“What is mine stays with me. What is not, passes by me.”
The scrape of claws against the bark of the tree he was leaned against was reminiscent of pages being rapidly flipped through. He imagined just the tips sinking into the surface of the wood notches, carving along the grooves to avoid leaving evidence or a trail. It was a clever move. Just loud enough to be heard. Just unnerving enough to gain the attention of whoever was nearby.
Garrick was cleverer.
He pressed his back against the tree, aligning the ridges and grooves of the bark with his spine, eyes closed and head bowed as if praying. In a way, he was.
“Hear the truth, not the echo. If the forest calls, I do not answer.”
He kept his words barely above a breath. Talking to this thing - this creature - would be the end of him. Looking at it would only lure him in. Tempt him. Try to ensnare him. That wasn’t the real danger - it was talking to it. This one was different than the others. Not unique, but different.
Garrick learned that a long time ago.
You could talk to yourself to keep your sanity. You could talk to a friend if one was nearby to distract from the magnetic draw of this thing. Above all else and to keep yourself safe, you couldn’t speak directly to it. He’d seen too many get snarfed up in one bite, drawn by the darkness and call of loved ones long dead.
So, he kept his eyes closed as the scrapes inched closer, this thing flexing its fingers as if attempting to pet the tree with just its fingertips, as the whispers began.
Are you there?
Can you hear me?
I’m lost.
I’m lost.
I’m llooossstttt.
Breathy.
Drawn out.
Three tones three different times.
Young.
Old.
Male.
Female.
He’d heard all of these voices at one point or another in his life.
Still, he continued to mumble to himself, head down and eyes closed.
“If the forest calls, I do not answer. Listen to the wind, not the whispers.”
Garrick inhaled silently, eyes still shut, as the scent hit him. A gut churning scent of decay and deep earth that lingered in the air like morning smog. The repulsion built acid in the back of his throat. It was worse than before, meaning the thing was hungry. The worse the smell, the longer it had gone without feeding, the last meal actively rotting in its teeth unreplenished with fresh flesh and blood. The thing’s hot breath radiated from its throat as it lowered itself to Garrick’s level. In his mind, he could see its skeletal jaw scraping the forest floor as it inched toward him.
Hhheeelllpppp…
Pppplleeaasssee…
The curling whispers pleaded with him, but he started again with his phrases. It was the only thing he could do as he scraped his back against the bark of the tree.
“What is mine stays with me. What is not, passes by me. Hear the truth, not the echo. If the forest calls, I do not answer. If the forest calls, I do not answer. Listen to the wind, not the whispers.”
Gggaaarrriiiiccckkkk!
Garrick!
GARRICK!
He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. Somewhere in his head, he started reciting the rules of the woods. It was the only thing he could do. It only registered halfway through the third one.
“-thing you think is out there is. Rule four. If you hear your name, you don’t. Look away. Walk away. Don’t talk to it. Don’t follow it. Don’t let it know you know. Rule five. Some things are harmless until they’re not. Learn quickly which is which. Rule six. You have to look after yourself. Tell the others if you find them. Warn anyone you come across. Rule seven...”
Garrick continued through every rule even as he heard the shluff of saliva hit the ground beside him. He tensed his core, steeling himself as one hand absent mindedly reached into his side pouch for the few baneberries he’d kept while his other hand reached up and grasped the medallion around his neck, fingers tracing the sigil he’d carved into it years ago. His imagination was rampant with possibilities for what this thing was doing, but one thing he knew was that it was looking at him with one of those milky, hollow eye sockets mere inches away.
Then, all at once, with the creaking and snap of its old bones, the thing pushed itself to its feet and staggered off into the woods. The wails and cries of the boney, necrotic mass ventured off into the woods, soon falling silent as the bipedal monstrosity vanished into the trees.
Garrick, still tense, heaved breath after breath as silently as possible as he dared to open his left eye. The shadows were long and flickering around his miniscule campfire, obscured by his eyelashes which created an odd veil which he wasn’t unfamiliar with. With the coast clear, Garrick slumped against the tree and attempted to calm his furiously beating heart.
With a grin and muttering just above a whisper, he said, “Rule thirty-one. Remember the Borrower rules if you make it this far.”
Garrick had thankfully never had to employ the Borrower rules in all his years living out here in the forest. Living in the wilds naturally had its benefits as well as its drawbacks, but Garrick chose it willingly. The trees and brush constructed more of a home than brick and mortar ever could. Sure, there were visitor centers and homes nearby where many friends and family chose to live, but being out here before the cold season was liberating in a way that few Borrowers enjoyed. The outdoors offered a kind of peace he’d never found by lamp light scurrying among the rafters or under the musty floorboards. The dangers were significant, yes, but he’d learned how to contend with these monstrosities.
Humans had names for things like these. Creep-ids? Or something like that.
It didn’t matter to Garrick what the humans called these things. All he really knew was they all were real, and he knew how to protect himself against them; at least, most of them. It was part of his curiosity - his drive - for being out here. Learning what these things were. What they could do. Stories of humans, he’d heard, but the odd campfire spooks that struck fear into humans, old and young alike, lured him like rats to refuse.
These things were more fascinating than anything a human could do.
Taking out his journal, Garrick began quickly scribbling into his notebook the day and the events that transpired. He quickly sketched the thing from memories of seeing it during other encounters as well as other notes like predictions of when it last ate and the techniques it attempted to use to lure him to it. Each note he made aligned with the creature he often called, “Stalker,” though he was sure humans referred to this thing by a different name. Windy-something? Endigoon?
“Doesn’t matter,” Garrick muttered to himself as he finished his sketch and his notes. Before having a spot of dinner and sliding into his makeshift tent, he made sure to wipe off his hands from the potential contamination of the baneberry. The last thing he wanted was to get violently ill when he was in need of rations.
Satisfied, he flipped through his notes, dried meat in his cheek, and made notes of the frequency of seeing his windy-stalker in recent months. The trend was clear - the numbers were increasing. It was a familiar pattern. Migration like. It corresponded with the cold seasons.
They were coming back from… wherever they came from. Beyond the forest. Beyond the waters. Whatever was north. It was beyond Garrick, but what wasn’t beyond him was a comfortable night’s rest.
He examined the other notes he’d left about other sightings he’d seen. The odd stairs. The Hiders. Flippers. Ghosts. Splashers. Humans gave them other names, but getting close enough to identify these creatures by human standards was a waste of time. It didn’t really matter to the Borrower. What did matter was the pattern. All of them were coming back from wherever they were, the only ones seemingly vacating the premises were the water-based critters.
“Makes sense,” sighed Garrick. “Water is going to start getting cold, and they don’t like that. Or…” The Borrower thought about it for a moment. He flipped quickly to the back of his book where he often scratched random notes and, muttering while writing, scratched, “Hybernate, maybe still there?” The thought was unnerving and he fought off a shudder as he thought about the times he’d walked across the ice to common fishing spots, not knowing whether or not one of those things was directly under him.
“Changes nothing,” he groaned as he kicked dirt over his campfire. With the fire extinguished, leaving Garrick scented with the wood he ensured had a sprinkle of sage. He curled among his leathers and furs, the scent of the wild surrounding him, as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip off into oblivion.
This was the life of this Borrower.
Survival.
Exploration.
Curiosities beyond what one would find in the safety of the walls or rafters or floors.
Garrick’s life was one he deemed simple, despite the oddities that often bled into his day-to-day activities. After all, safety and survival were the main two goals, a benefit being satisfying knowledge of the unknown and learning about the undiscovered wonders of the world that most humans failed to notice and survive against when encountered.
Dreamlessness embraced the Borrower, and daybreak came too swiftly, bringing with it the activities of the day. Garrick, stretching from under the furs, gazed up at the illuminating sky, the colors streaking across like a watercolor on a canvas, pale and pure. A bit of dew coated the underside of the ferns nearby and the lingering scent the wendy-thing left behind had thankfully dulled.
I have to filter out some water. I need to do some hunting too. Maybe fishing? Down by the water? Two minnows, one spear? Sure. Sounds alright to me. Need some more cedar too if possible. Maybe mint. That’s sometimes by the water. A bit far, but worth it. Cattails too. Good grief. I’m out of everything. That’s what I get for just focusing on study.
Garrick groaned to no one other than himself when he pushed himself upright and began the work of the day that he’d known for twenty years.
Get up.
Find something to eat.
Drink - if safe.
Hunt.
Make notes.
Don’t get eaten.
Collect herbs and other low supplies.
Just another day in the life of an Outie Borrower.
Garrick, pack secured on his back, began trudging his way down to the water where he’d remembered seeing the supplies he required. His feet made quick work of the moistened roots and knotted branches. Each bound over softened moss was as quick and quiet as a whisper, leaving behind no trace. Nothing but the sounds of the wild, crickets and birds and other odd skittering things, filled the air.
Weird. Garrick thought as he slowed his run to a light jog, stopping at the first sign the ground was beginning to moisten. Usually I see the stairs or one of the flippers around. It’s where they usually are. Did they decide to move? Alerted, he traversed cautiously toward his quarry, a few long mint stalks that were nestled in the shallow muck. Out of the dozen or so leaves, seven made their way into his bag with a careful pinch, twist, and tuck into the side satchel.
The Borrower leapt and hooked his spare paperclip onto the roots as he swung from root wad to root wad until he spotted the tall stalks of the cattails he had been hunting. As he stepped up onto one of the roots, however, something caught his attention that chilled him to the bone. Immediately, he crouched low among the roots he was perched on, instincts warning him away from his natural adversary.
A human.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a human. It wasn’t the first time they’d ventured this far and he’d gone unnoticed. It was still unnerving seeing them though. Features so similar to his own, yet proportionally immense by comparison. From his vantage point, he could only glimpse vague features of the human. Long-ish hair pulled back into a tail-thing. Basing ball hat or whatever they called it. Backpack. Outdoorsy clothing? But nothing to note camouflage. Not tall, but then again who wasn’t when it came to humans and Borrowers.
I need to get out of this spot if they’re going to be…
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as the lapping waves against the banks of the bay caught his attention. Instinctually, he closed one eye and turned his opened eye to the water, ears intently focused on the sound of the waves. What he feared crept into being.
Whispers.
Not just any kind of whispers either.
“A lure.” Garrick scanned the water, eye locking onto the creature he was all too familiar with. It had another name according to the humans, but he just called it a splasher because it was often the last thing he saw of the thing it happened to have caught in its sights. Pure instinct moved his hand to his side satchel as he tore off a piece of mint leaf, jabbed his hand against his emergency thorn, wiped the blood onto the leaf, and rubbed the bloodied leaf against his forehead, eye looking back to the human as he watched their movements closely.
He was surprised he missed the signs when he first saw the human.
Staggering walk.
Vacant expression.
As noisy as a human could be if not louder.
Garrick couldn’t tear his eye away from the human as they continued to stumble toward the water. Tradition dictated that he run away. He could practically hear his predecessors screaming at him from beyond and the visitors centers at the edge of the woods for him to run away. Stay hidden. Don’t meddle with things that don’t directly concern you. Still, he stayed locked in place. He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t look away, but he found himself muttering encouragements with each step the human advanced toward the water.
“Come ooonnn.” Garrick urged quietly. “Move through the cattails. It’ll distract it. Just move through them.”
The human didn’t.
Step.
Step.
Step.
The person was nearly at the water’s edge.
“Come on!” Garrick urged.
Step.
Step.
Garrick held his breath as he watched like some silent specter. It was agonizing. He’d seen things like this happen before, but it was always in the dead of night when the human was asleep. He’d never confess it, but he’d gone out on a limb, sometimes literally, for a human before, venturing into their camps and spreading sage or cedar or mint around to keep those things creeping in the night away from their intended prey.
Never was it in daylight.
Never was it when he could be seen.
Desperate, he watched the human as he struggled with what to do.
“Come on! Please…”
Step.
Step.
The person’s shoes were practically at the edge of the water. Each pound of Garrick’s thumping heart seemed to slow with each passing beat. He’d seen what became of living things when entering at the splasher’s call. He’d heard their cries - the panic. The moments before when he was forced to witness the end of another life as gnargled, moss woven teeth pulled their quarry under the water to the roots beneath.
Everything slowed.
His decision was made.
Nothing - not even a human - deserved to die like this.
Against every instinct he possessed, Garrick used the roots beneath to spring forward as he ran along the banks beside the cattails, throwing his body desperately against them in the hopes that motion alone would be enough to break the splasher’s concentration. Knowing he was protected, he opened his other eye and looked to the water to see if his distraction was working.
No such luck.
The human still stepped forward, shoes now beginning to enter the water.
“Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot!”
What on earth are you thinking?!
The Borrower pulled out his hooks and, now directly behind the human as they made it one step into the water, threw his hook with all of his might. There was a moment where he braced himself, cursing his own stupidity, as his hook latched onto the human’s backpack. Yanked off of the ground with incredible speed, Garrick scrambled up the line with the momentum he gained from the jolt of his line.
He grunted as he hoisted himself up onto the backpack as he heard the human’s footsteps breaking the water, now past the ankles and approaching the knees with a single step. Each move jostled the entire pack he was on, making him grab desperately onto the zippers beside him. The human was up to their knees.
Garrick didn’t waste any time. He scrambled up onto the human’s shoulder, snagging a handful of hair to keep from toppling off, as he caught the slits of the creature’s eyes peering at him from what felt like feet away.
Not good! Not good!
His hand flew into his bag as he ripped another piece of mint and dug it into his bloodied scratch from earlier, realizing now there was a choice to be had.
Rubbing this on the human’s neck where he was currently might work. It would break the splasher’s concentrated hold, but it would be up to the human to resist continuing into the water. It would mean he’d have a chance to get away though.
Or, alternatively, he could free the human by jumping onto their head and rubbing the mixture on their forehead, breaking the splasher’s hold entirely, but there was no getting around it - he would be seen.
Wards of the Waning Colossus | Chapter Ten | Finale
| ~ Chapter Ten ~ |
The word lingered in the air as did the ones that followed. Lira, voice quivering, left little to the imagination as she described what she’d seen.
Creatures.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
A rift tearing in the fields and the forests, demolishing the ancient sigils and towers protecting their home.
Bloodshed.
Screaming families only to be silenced by grinding teeth at their throats.
By the end of it, even the Lady Serida appeared pale and uneasy.
“I… I must go to my father and the arcane counsels. The other Witnesses of the Folk and Archanists of the Unmeasured. They… we…”
“We have no time!” Lira interrupted, cheeks still pale, gaunt as a ghost. “Serida, they… please, they might already be dead.”
“And what good would that do for us? If something has already happened, nothing can be done now in this moment,” Serida stated while actively composing herself. “Going in with preparation offers our best chance at saving your home.”
“And how long will that take?” countered Lira. She attempted to push herself up, muttering, “I… can’t… just… sit… here.”
“Yes, you can, and you will,” scolded Galen, drawing her shoulders back down onto the mattress as he adjusted his cloak over her.
“Ga-”
“No! You lie there and take a breath. Let the Lady Serida talk to her father,” interrupted Galen. “She’s right. There’s not much we c-”
“We can go ahead if she sends us. Galen, please! I’ve seen it. It’s going to start at any second and…”
“And you half dead isn’t going to do any good. No. You’re staying here if - IF - this is actually happening…”
“By the time I’m better, it’ll be too late. Galen, please!”
“No. You stay here and if what you saw is happening, we need all the help we can get. Even then, Serida and the others will be able to handle it. We’re not strong enough to combat this. We’re not ready!”
The two of them squabbled back and forth, each speaking over the other, when Serida stood abruptly. The scrape of the chair was cacophonous, silencing the humans.
“Lira, it’s foolish for you to attempt to stand now, let alone fight. Galen, you do have a point that we will need any aid possible; however, you underestimate yourselves. You are ready - both of you. Now is not the time to argue. I shall return, and then we will have our answers.” Serida whisked herself out of the room, leaving Galen and Lira alone once more.
Now, with rendered silence around them, the gravity of what might be loomed like a fog cloud within the room. Arms resting on the tops of his knees, back to Lira, Galen realized his gaze lingered on the staff which, what felt like moments earlier, was the source of immense pride and joy. His hand itched to hold the staff again, to release some pent-up frustration - to do something.
But how?
How could he do something?
He’d seen these beasts first hand all those years ago. The ache of his phantom limb was proof of how their viciousness lingered.
If he saw them again, would he be able to fight?
Would he freeze?
Or would he be ready to charge forward among the ranks of the Colossus and these Unmeasured?
Fear ruled the decision, which felt as fragile as the flip of a coin.
The subtle rustle of his cloak and the blankets that covered Lira tugged his attention from spiraling thoughts to his ward. Color was returning to her cheeks, though she was still pale as though just over a seasonal cold. Weak but determined, she stared hard at Galen.
There were few moments when Galen saw his friend and Lira’s mother staring back at him through Lira’s eyes. His friend had a knack for getting into trouble. Lira’s mother had a fierce spirit. Both more stubborn than a pack of mules. Both with hearts too big for their bodies. Lira had been quiet and timid for so long after living in the shadow of tragedy, but always Galen had seen hints of the little girl he’d known before she was in his care.
When did you get so grown up?
“Galen.” Her voice threatened to break him.
“Lira, I…”
“Please, just listen. Okay?” Lira watched him, breath baited. Little else to do, Galen nodded, gesturing for her to continue. “Galen, I think… no. I know this is what I need to do. I need to go home. I need to be there when the rift opens. I… I need to close it.”
His eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing as was requested of him.
“I think… this is th-the key. I think… some…-thing… is locked, and this is the key.”
“Key to what?” asked Galen.
Shoulders shrugging helplessly, she simply stated, “To me. Unlocking something or… or… or… finally locking something away? Maybe? I don’t know.” Lira whimpered. “I just… with these nightmares… maybe me closing a rift will help lock it away. Serida said something about it being possible, and… just now….”
Determination.
Resolution.
Galen knew the look well, and nothing was going to stop his ward. All that could be done was stand by her and protect her as they charged blindly forward.
“Okay. But you’d better know I’m not leaving your side, got it?” Galen offered a solemn smile, hesitant in its own way, but also hopeful. Lira, tears glistening, nodded and threw her arms around his neck, holding him tight. Galen clutched her close. “You’re going to get me into more trouble than your dad ever did.”
One hour passed. Two. At the start of the third, the two humans heard the door open and shut with a distinct thud followed by the familiar footfalls of their keeper. Serida swept into the room, features locked in some mixture of frustration and concern, before sitting in her chair before the humans.
“Well? What did they say?” asked Lira.
Crestfallen, Serida sighed and said, “Our forces are currently preoccupied elsewhere, spread thin due to a recent surge in rifts. Other creatures and monsters have been cropping up everywhere. Thanks to my brother and his work with Rennic, they’ve managed to keep plenty of these things under control. That and the fact that there haven’t been any signs that a rift will open in your home means that resources are limited - meaning nonexistent. That being said, the Witnesses and Archanists aren’t prepared. They’re not ready.”
Silence.
Uneasy, untainted silence.
Then…
“But we are.” Serida and Galen turned to Lira as the teen pushed herself to her feet. Galen, too, found himself on his feet, hand resting on his ward’s shoulder. Those piercing teal eyes flicked between the two of them, realization dawning like the sun on a summer morning.
“Are you certain?” asked Serida. “Not only for the possibility that your premonition was false - rushing out to find nothing - but also to face these things?”
“We’re wasting time, M’Lady Serida. If… if you don’t send us, then we will find a way back,” stated Lira, Galen reinforcing the statement with a nod. His fingers squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and they were once again united. A smile curled the edges of Serida’s lips. Not a cold smile, but one Galen had seen before with a genuine warmth that echoed their own.
“This is going to be dangerous. Do you have a plan?”
~~~^*^*^~~~
“Of all the foolhardy, ridiculous, nonsensical ideas I have ever heard, this one is beyond comprehension!” Serida scolded. They had gathered their materials and dawned armor to protect themselves, leaving as swiftly as Serida could prepare herself for the arcane jump between this place and Galen and Lira’s hometown.
“There are worse plans,” admitted Lira as she fought to stay perched on Serida’s collar near the Colossus’s neck, the place where Galen insisted she stand for her own safety.
“Yes, but that number is few and far between,” scolded Serida. “Go and fight is straightforward, I’ll give you that, but hardly a sustainable plan. Might as well light ourselves on fire and charge behind enemy lines. That would be just as effective and perhaps less destructive to self.”
“It isn’t ideal, but if we can get Lira close, perhaps she can close the gate. Yes? Close the rift?” asked Galen. “She’s seen it.”
“She’s also learning to peer into her portents, no offence intended,” Serida replied, glancing at her shoulder where the two humans crouched. “She’s learning still, and this could all be for not.”
“You haven’t seen it?” Lira asked, staring up at Serida in time to see her shake her head “no.”
“The dreams I have are sometimes few and far between, but they are completely accurate when they do occur. I’ve heard the whispers of the stars - of the Colossus’ worlds collapsing as the stars beg for our return. I saw you and Galen on the stage. What I see is promised. There is a difference.”
“Well, after today, I hope I’m more like you - certain.” Lira smiled.
“Stars help us if you’re not. If you’re wrong, we’re about to scare everyone out of their wits. If you’re right… well… I have to say it, but I hope you’re wrong,” Serida replied. Her hand twisted in the air. There was a crackling sound like lightning chaining one after the next after the next. The mist swirled around them and, like they did months ago, they stepped through the portal leading to their world. Galen and Lira held on tight, Galen to the edge of Serida’s collar around Lira while also managing his staff. The wind rushed around them. Sound and light bombarded their senses.
When the light began to subside, the same could not be said of the sound. It wasn’t the crackle of lightning. It wasn’t the wind whipping around them. It wasn’t even Serida’s footsteps.
It was screams.
Dozens of screams.
Hundreds.
Their vision cleared and, down below in the valley and near the outskirts of town - their home - the creatures had come. An immense rift stretched from the edge of the lake to the place above the trees. Large hulking monstrosities with teeth the length of spears, stalks for eyes, and an unmatched bloodlust fueled by their search for the arcane lumbered forward from the rift and toward the town.
“Oh no…” breathed Lira. “It’s…”
“Not too late,” interrupted Serida. She raised her hand without hesitation and, curling her hands mid-air, motes of fire forming at the tips of each finger, before flicking them off as casually as if she were flicking a crumb off of the table. The fire blasted forward and struck her opponents, burning at their sides and blistering their armored flesh. She knelt and unceremoniously snatched the two humans off of her shoulder and set them on the ground.
“I’ll handle those in the town and work my way up. Run to the rift. Close it if you can. It should cut off their source and dissipate them. Understood?” Serida accepted Galen’s nod before charging forward into the fray, lightning curling around her arm as she maneuvered and twisted around the creatures.
“Come on, Galen!” Lira snagged Galen’s free hand and, together, they began sprinting down the paths toward the rift at the edge of the lake. Each step felt like the pounding of a wardrum. Blood pounded in Galen’s ears, drowning out the screams and the sounds of sizzling flesh as Serida charged to the aid of those in the town.
She’s better off there. I would’ve preferred her be with us, but I’m still learning. I’m not precise. I’m more likely to burn everything to ash than save them.
“Galen! Watch out!” Galen, snapped from his thoughts, turned just as one of the aquatic monstrosities emerged from the water. Barnacles covered its body as it shambled forward, greedy grin on its face as a hinged mouth opened wide. In that fraction of a moment, Galen felt his phantom limb send a shooting pain through him. He felt his blood. He smelled the scent of decay. The thoughts that began to consume him silenced into one, singular thought.
No.
His mechanical leg clicked into place, allowing him to pivot. Galen focused on the energy pulsing through him. The burning hatred. The chill in his heart where mercy was. The human grasped the staff in his hand and spun as the energy coalesced into flaming shards of ice and, with a grand, sweeping motion, impaled the creature from the underside and sent it flying, split in half, into the water. The attack gave both Galen and Lira pause, exchanging a look of surprise, before continuing their charge toward the rift.
A twin pair of oozing monsters swung down from the nearby trees which Lira and Galen dispatched with twin flames. Three creatures were scorched by lightning. As they charged past the next group of creatures, Galen and Lira could feel their eyes falling onto them.
“We’re going to have to act fast,” panted Lira, another curling ball of fire shooting from her palm.
“Let me worry about that,” Galen huffed back. “Focus on the rift.” Galen paused momentarily and, focusing on the rock and stone beneath his feet, set his intent and cracked the base of the staff into the ground. The ripple effect jutted across the water and began forming a bridge close to the rift, but far enough to give them a chance to react.
Skidding to a halt, Lira stared up at the blinding light and pressed her back against Galen’s back as he kept vigilant watch from behind. She closed her eyes and focused, a calm settling over her unlike anything she’d experienced before. Having Galen there in this meditative moment made all the difference in the world.
She’d been afraid to do this alone. She’d feared not being strong enough. Afraid of failure. Galen - her rock, her brother, her father, her friend, her world - was behind her all the way, complete trust in her abilities to close this tear of light as morphed creatures shambled through.
The spells he cast were lost on her. The frigid air from ice shards flying by blended with the burn of flame. Lira extended her hands and set her intent on closing this gap - this gash, this wound - leading to the infection of their home. Like pulling the edges of cloth together around something spilling over, Lira grasped at the imaginary edges and began to pull.
Like moving a stone the size of a Colossus, the act felt impossible. The edges began to flare and budge. Each moment, it fought against her - thrashed with a life of its own as if Lira were trying to tame a wild stallion. She leaned back against Galen, matching his breath as he continued to fight off the creatures whose focus had wavered, once on the village and now on the two of them.
Focus. I have to protect Galen. I’m tired of being timid. I’m tired of being afraid of this thing. All of these things! I want my home back. I want my family back. I just want to go home with Galen and… Serida… and I want my dreams back!
Lira wasn’t even aware that she’d begun to scream as the rift bucked and struggled against her. Galen’s shouts and movements as he spun his staff around this way and that fending off monsters.
This is for you. This is for him. This is for everyone!
Eyes pinched shut, Lira was only aware of the faint light beam she could see through her eyelids; and, suddenly, the absence of it. The sound of violent shrieks filled the air. She shuddered as Galen stepped forward before stepping back and pressing his back to her. She didn’t stop. She extended her emotions beyond, sensing the arcane, until there was nothing left.
The sound of the shrieks stopped.
The light was gone.
The arcane mark vanished.
Exhaustion taking her, Lira collapsed back into Galen, who managed to catch her and lower her to the ground safely before all went black.
~~~^*^*^~~~
When Lira opened her eyes, Galen and Serida both regaled her the story of happened while she was unconscious. With Galen by her side, Lira had managed to close the rift - barely. The creatures, whose energy hadn’t yet manifested on their own, dispersed or perished at Galen and Serida’s hands. Witnesses were beyond curious to see their friend and once neighbor Galen return, especially wielding magic.
“So, what happens next?” asked Galen.
Serida, cleaning her blade, smiled and gave a vague shrug.
“That, I believe, is up to you. Both of you can continue your training here or return with me and learn more about this place. My world. Your world. These things and where they come from,” replied Serida.
Even before the question was asked, both humans knew their answers, silently understanding that what had been unleashed couldn’t be contained again. Their curiosity. Their desire to learn. Their hope to protect. How could they even think of returning when they were on the brink of something else that was exciting beyond comprehension?
Though it was undoubtedly the end of one chapter, it was equally the beginning of another.
Every nerve was vibrating intensely. Lira closed her eyes, concentration paramount in this moment. Like following a single vine through a tangled jungle, she could feel her mind tracing along some unseen path. Her fingers began to tingle like she’d submerged them in a fast flowing creek. She imagined fire and flame. How it made her feel. The sensation of being just out of reach and too close all at once. The way it danced in the wind. The color. The smell.
With every ounce of concentration she could muster, she rotated her wrist, willing that image of a floating ball of fire in her hand. There was a subtle *whoosh* by her fingertips, but she’d made this mistake before. Lira focused on that burning sensation, visualizing every moment of its life, before peeking her eyes open.
Flames.
Real, breathing, dancing flames hovered a few inches above her hand. Though hot, they didn’t burn their wielder.
“Excellent,” Serida praised, making Lira beam. “Now, transfer to your other hand and launch it at your target. Maintain visualization. Set your intent and go through the motions.” The teen nodded in response as she tilted her hand, pouring the flames from one hand into the other. Her heart skipped a beat uneasily as they diminished, like the friction of the air was whittling away at the fire she’d conjured.
Focus.
Concentrate.
Spin and thrust.
Lira rotated her hand, palm now facing forward while drawing it back toward her. The target, a makeshift monster constructed of wood which Serida summoned, glared at her with hollow eyes, all seven of them. Tendrils snaked around its hulking body. Teeth beared in a petrified snarl.
I can’t let it hurt Galen.
Lira imagined the flames bursting forward in a streak of light. The target bursting into flames. Heat intensifying. As she thrust her hand forward, she followed through with each motion as the fire struck the target. Shock and delight replaced her apprehension as she spun around practically glowing.
Both Serida and Galen beamed with pride, but Galen was who she ran to and threw her arms around in celebration. He caught her and held her close, stunned at what he’d just witnessed. It had only been a few days since The Choosing and since their perception of reality had been completely turned on its head, but Lira already seemed like a natural when it came to harnessing the arcane. She was able to summon various elements, some more than others, and was easily able to embrace Serida’s instructions, adopting them quickly and taking to them like a fish to water.
On the other hand, the following days for Galen were brutal. The concepts, though simple enough, didn’t translate well to his visualization of the arcane. He could imagine the elements and mimic the maneuvers, but something didn’t feel complete. The sensations Lira described so vividly were afterthoughts to her guardian. Like a whisper in mist, Galen knew something was there but couldn’t quite attain it. And, so, he had yet to manifest anything.
“Care to give it a try, Galen?” asked Serida. Arms still wrapped around Lira, he slowly put her down and, though feeling discouraged, nodded.
“Might as well. No sense in shying away from it,” muttered the man. Lira’s youthful face shone with encouragement while watching him step away.
“You can do it, Galen,” she said. “Just imagine it. See it in your head.”
“Follow the ‘vines.’ I remember.” I just wish I could find them in the first place. Galen walked over to the line where Lira was before and, like her, closed his eyes. Like he’d done dozens of times over these few days, he imagined a bright, burning fire. Its heat. Its sound.
The tantalizing sensation of something like a forgotten memory pricking the back of his mind swelled. It was just out of reach, but close enough for him to brush against. Galen timed his breathing. He focused on the sensations that were most vivid.
Still, nothing. Just the faintest flicker of something that was just as easily a cold chill as it was his nerves honing in on this arcane power Serida spoke of. He concentrated on the sensation, unsure of where it was leading him. It twisted and turned, losing itself before finding itself again. It was just as Galen felt a faint spark that he twisted his hand and heard a faint crackle when he dared to open his eyes just in time to see a puff of spoke emit from just above his palm.
“Galen! You did it!” Lira cheered, sprinting up to him and throwing her arms around his neck. He barely managed to catch her as he gawked at his open palm. Clutching her to his chest, Galen looked up to the witnessing Colossus, who was beaming, but also contemplative. It was a passing moment which he elected to leave be as he hugged Lira close.
“Well, it’s a start,” he chuckled. “Nowhere near as impressive as yours.”
“Oh, please,” Lira pulled away and looked up into Galen’s unshaven face. “I had a head start, and you’re finally catching up.”
“Which won’t happen anytime soon,” sighed Galen. It was true. If everything Lady Serida had said was true about other Colossus training humans in the arcane ways, he needed to practice more. Lives depended on it. A bout of exhaustion crept up and made everything ache, so Galen stepped over to a book Serida had taken off of her shelf and sat down, Lira appearing at his side moments later.
“Yeah. Guess that took something outta me. I’ll be fine,” Galen reassured.
“Perhaps not anytime soon.” The Colossus’s voice redirected their attention from one another to the giant sitting at the desk they were on. Evidently, Lady Serida hadn’t noticed their brief check-in with one another. “At least, not without a little assistance.” The mention of assistance made Galen’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, ego he didn’t know he had mildly bruised. Serida must’ve gleaned Galen’s thoughts at a glance because she gently readjusted herself in her seat and leaned down, ensuring he was paying attention to her. “It is not meant as a criticism, Galen. Some are more attuned to their arcane abilities, and others, like yourself, need a little nudge. In fact, nearly all but three of the Unmeasured require an arcane assist.”
“Three? Of how many?” asked Lira. Galen was torn between wanting to know the answer and leaving his ego in its current state.
“Twenty-two actually; and, Lira, you’re the third. To be honest, I thought I was being optimistic with the both of you even summoning a spark in a month. In a mere few days, you’ve exceeded expectations in your training.” The complement, though genuine, still felt hollow by a fraction to Galen until Serida continued. “And, to be honest, Galen, your injury might have something to do with what you’re perceiving as a challenge. It was why you were targeted by the beasts in the first place and quite possibly is acting as a block. So, for the time being, I think we should craft you a focus. Something that will help your abilities until they’re stronger. How do you feel about a staff?”
“A staff?” said Galen, disbelievingly. “As in an oversized cane? Like some old soothsayer or wiseman?”
“You’d look good with a staff,” grinned Lira, a bashful tease in her voice, and Galen knew where she was going with this.
“Oh? Because you think I’m old?” Galen saw Lira’s body tense like how a cat would when preparing to spring. It was a look he hadn’t seen for weeks, the anticipation of The Choosing robbing her of her usual puckish nature. Galen gave nothing away, but prepared to give chase at a moment’s notice.
“Maybe.”
“Oh really,” Galen prodded. “Well… how’s this for old!” He lunged to his feet in sync with Lira, who managed to barely dodge his outstretched arms. She darted from side to side as Galen gave chase. Lira was lithe and able to quickly maneuver, but underestimated her guardian’s speed, even with his mechanical limb. He faked out one direction while spinning on his heel and snagging her around her waist. She squealed, laughing as she pretended to thrash out of Galen’s grip. He dragged her back to the book, hoisting her into the air before pretending to slam her into the cover of the book.
Serida, who’d only passively noticed the humans’ interaction, paused her search for suitable materials for Galen and watched quietly out of the corner of her eye. It was a side of them she hadn’t witnessed and a testament to their newfound comfort in this new environment. She observed their dynamic, noting the blend of roles Galen fulfilled as he both teased and taught Lira. There was something, in a word, charming about him and his interactions with the teen.
Awkwardness filled her as she witnessed this interaction. It was glimpsing into their world, one she had disrupted by bringing them here; albeit for legitimate reasons. She averted her gaze and continued searching through her collection of herbs and items to create the arcane focus for the human man, eventually snagging a handful of miscellaneous crystals and a few long branches she’d collected from her home and the land around her. Finding what she sought, Serida cleared her throat and placed the items in perfect rows along the edge of the desk.
“Yes, M’Lady?” asked Galen while Lira fought relentlessly against a head lock which proved futile.
She nodded her head toward the aligned components and continued taking notes. “Materials. You’ll need to select a few.”
Galen relinquished his grip on Lira and pushed himself up, managing to dodge Lira’s attempt to cuff his ear as she quickly stood. He stood in front of the branches and stones, recognizing many of the materials as common items he’d found in the forest by his home. It was almost a disappointment after the novelty of the past few days. Imagining an arcane focus and magical staffs was far different than seeing a pile of rocks and branches.
“So… how does this work? What do I pick? Is… it all of these?” asked Galen as he paced down the line.
“That’s what’s unique about it. You select what calls to you,” Serida replied.
Galen’s brow furrowed. “What calls to me?” He knelt beside the first stone, which was the size of a melon, taking it in his hands and rotating it around, fingers tracing along the ridges of the uneven surface.
“Correct. Hold each item and perceive it. Attune your senses to it. Whatever feels… natural… is the material or materials you should use.”
Attune to what feels natural? Something that practically didn’t exist a few days ago? The choices were overwhelming, and something told Galen that rushing through this decision simply to be rid of it. He scratched the back of his neck and up into his scalp before flopping onto the ground and beginning the arduous process before him.
So, while Galen began sifting through the items before him, Serida continued her work with Lira, guiding her through breathing exercises and faster manifestations. Watching them work was hypnotizing for the teen’s guardian. Lira had her quirky, outspoken moments, but was usually so reserved. Seeing her now blossoming and embracing something she didn’t know she had was inspiring. She was discovering a part of herself that neither knew existed.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t simply admire the arcane practices of the Colossus and his ward. He focused on the items in front of him, brushing his fingertips across the surfaces of the cool stones and rippling bark. For an hour, he sat and methodically examined each piece of bark and stone.
What calls to me. What calls to me? What would that even feel like? Galen wondered, flipping a palm sized black rock in his hand. Why can’t she just know which one I need to pick? She managed to pick us out in a crowd of people. Couldn’t she’ve…
Like feeling a charge of lightning in the air, Galen’s arm jolted as it brushed over a semi-transparent rock. It was like fog turned stone, clear and opaque but also cloudy and solid. He almost dared not touch it, but willed his apprehension away as his fingers clasped around the fragment of stone about the size of his fist. He turned it over in his hands and felt a tingling sensation as if his hand were brushing against actively melting ice.
So, that’s what it’ll feel like…
Galen proceeded, pausing only when his hand brushed a curled black oak branch and the same electrifying sensation seized him. He found himself chuckling at the absurdity of the branch’s appearance, it being the perfect height for him to use as a walking stick while also arcing at the top like a vine.
Well, at least it looks the part.
He grasped the branch in one hand and the rock in the other before approaching Serida and Lira once more.
“These? You’re certain?” asked Serida as she gingerly examined the materials within Galen’s hands, balancing them on the tip of her finger as her teal eyes flared with arcane energy. He nodded in reply. “Excellent. Then onto creation.”
Despite being meant for arcane purposes, Serida explained that the staff itself required a more mundane, traditional method of honing.
“You can’t just use your magic to… I don’t know… fuse them together?” asked Galen.
“Oh, of course, but giving of yourself will make it attuned to you. You’ll see.” Serida demonstrated on a separate limb how Galen needed to carve into the branch itself, inserting fragments of stone as he proceeded, while smoothing the surface without destroying the bark’s imprint.
To Galen, all it meant was excruciatingly minimal progress as the hours compiled into days. Lira was forbidden to help at any stage.
“It’s the traditional method. You’ll see. I promise,” assured Serida.
So Galen carved on. Lira continued to flourish under the Colossus’s care. Weeks evolved into months and, after their arrival, her ability to summon the elements, controlling them at will, was staggering. The difference was night and day. Lira spun fire, danced along frost, and commanded crackling lightning as though she’d done so all her life.
The only flaw, which worried Galen, was the nightmares.
Dreams.
Nightmares.
Even daydreams were leading her to complete collapse.
Galen, helpless, could only hold onto Lira as she cried out in the night and thrashed against the visions that tormented her.
“Is there nothing we can do?” Galen demanded late one night after he’d managed to soothe Lira back to sleep, sheets drenched in sweat and forcing him to bring her to his bed. He paced back and forth in frustration across the terrace, Serida sitting nearby as she listened to him.
“It is the result of pushing herself. Little can be done.”
Galen spun on his heel, making his mechanical leg whir and click, as venom filled his words. “Have your powers dwindled so far that you can’t help a child? You’re the Colossus! You’re Lady Serida of the Amdir! Titles and all,” spat Galen.
“Galen.” Serida’s tone was gentle, yet crushing in the same breath. “This has nothing to do with my abilities being able to help her or not. The simple solution is to keep her from harnessing her abilities. No longer practicing. No longer training. Letter her power atrophy until all she has are the nightmares and occasional moments of portents. She is a precognit, Galen. It will never stop. The only thing she can do is continue to train.”
“That doesn’t mean she has to push herself so hard. That’s what’s causing all of this,” Galen hid his face in his hands, heart aching with concern. “I don’t know. Can’t… can’t you do something? Say something? Keep her from… overexerting herself?”
“You know her better than I, Galen.” Serida sighed. “Even if I were to reduce her training, it wouldn’t stop her from pouring everything she has into it. If anything, it’s a good sign.”
“Good?!” Galen roared, wheeling around to face the giantess who, months before, would never have dared to raise his voice to. “How? She wakes up shrieking, Serida. Her eyes go wide. She’s terrified - in pain. She sees things that may or may not even happen. What’s worse is that there’s nothing I can do! I’m supposed to help her - protect her! I swore! I swore I would, and this - me hacking away at a stick - it’s doing nothing.”
“Galen, it is doing more than you think. All of it,” Serida leaned down, nearly eye-level with the man. “With what reassurance I can provide, know that Lira is on the verge of being able to control her portents. Her meditation. Her training. It’s so she will be strong enough to seize control when it happens.”
Galen’s chest felt compressed from all sides. His heart, pounding, refused to quiet. His nerves were on fire, just like the first time he touched his oak staff. He inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth, willing himself to calm. He shook his head, arms folding across his chest.
“Galen, listen to me,” Serida urged. “You are doing more than you know for her. You are her strength. You’re the reason she trains as hard as she does. She sees you and is trying to make you proud - keep you safe.”
Galen scoffed disbelievingly, knowing the exact feeling. “Just like me. I swear, we’re related.”
Serida’s fingers crested over the edge of the terrace and, on this precious and rare occasion, Galen saw her smile in a way that lacked the proper performative nature of a Lady of the high court.
“Get some rest, Galen. Tomorrow, we put your skills to the test.”
“Of course. Thank you, M’Lady.”
Though they bid each other goodnight, neither truly slept until the wee hours of the morning when the first sun’s rays came in through their windows. By then, it was too late to get any real rest. They arose all the same and, finally, it was time.
Exhaustion plagued the man’s eyes, but energy continued to keep him on edge as he watched the Colossus handle the swirled staff he’d spent weeks honing. Arcane sigils appeared before Serida’s eyes as she examined the staff, each notch carefully inspected before that same smile they’d shared the night before spread across her face.
“I think you’re ready,” said Serida, staff balanced on her fingertips as she lowered it back to Galen. Lira, beaming, nodded with an eager confidence, encouraging Galen to take the staff. The moment it made contact with his hand as it had done hundreds of times before, something felt different. There was a spark of something - an electric pulse that made his heart race.
“Use it.”
Serida’s words rang, clear as a bell, sending a rush of energy through Galen.
“How?”
“Do what feels natural.”
Galen stared at the end of the staff and that memory, what felt like another lifetime, of him attempting that spark turned to flame came to life. Grasping the staff, Galen turned it, spinning it like the hands of a clock, and struck the ground. The spark was an audible crack, like thunder, and the burst of flames was like a bonfire explosion. He felt his eyes gleam in the light and he instinctually drew away from the flames. Like a tidal wave, the flames rippled out from him and dissipated several feet away.
“Galen! You did it!” Lira cheered. She leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. He barely managed to catch her, his own shock overwhelming his senses, when he looked down into her eyes. Elation was replaced by dread as he saw Lira’s eyes go wide and milky. Her body went limp in Galen’s arms as though her bones evaporated. Galen’s staff hit the ground as he threw it to the side to catch her.
“Lira? Lira!” Galen clutched Lira as her breathing shallowed. Her eyes were wide. A tremble began in her shoulders and traveled down the length of her body. “What’s happening? Serida? Lira? Lira! Look at me. You’re going to be alright. You hear me? Lira!”
When her body stilled and her eyes finally closed, Galen’s nerves were a split hair away from fraying completely. Serida quickly summoned a makeshift mattress and blankets to cover the girl, but they were almost unnecessary. Moments after she blinked slowly, dark eyes locking with Galen’s eyes and, wordlessly, he knew that this was unlike any other time when she’d seen what could be.
“What did you see?”
Her eyes, filled with tears and fear, conveyed the panic in her heart as she uttered one single word.
The forest was dark and looked far from a battlefield. Places of war looked torn. They were stained with blood and collateral damage. Screams of the lost or cries of the injured saturated the air. Limbs of those unfortunate and lacking luck were more often than not strewn about on the ground among the fields and roots.
The simple fact none of those things were here and, instead, were replaced by an eerily silent substitute was unnerving.
It unsettled Galen more than blood ever had.
He was behind the fighting force, lending aid. Pack on his back, he was one of the few who volunteered to venture close to the rifts where those hulking monstrosities lingered, pouring out like water from a cracked dam.
He was younger then.
He craved adventure.
He wanted to do something more - help people.
There was also a fascination with the Colossus. Seeing their abilities. The way their magic flared and danced. Like heat-lightning in the palm of their hands, rainbows arcing across the ground in the dead of night, their abilities were unlike anything Galen had witnessed in the forest he’d grown up in all his life. Even what little he’d witnessed earlier was beyond anything he could’ve imagined was possible.
Hoping to lend what assistance he could, Galen and the others had charged out into the forest in the Colossus’s wake, and in that quiet he found himself alone. The others had branched off, to ensure they wouldn’t miss anyone in need of help, and in doing so isolated the uneven party of apothecary in training.
Galen moved carefully along the path, pack slung against his hip and across his back, strap biting into his shoulder where he’d nervously tightened it one too many times. Pausing in the dark, he loosened the strap with fingers that shook from nerves and the chill of the air. He felt mildly annoyed with himself, fear getting the better of him when the advanced team was far beyond where they were while searching for survivors. Besides, what good would he be if his hands were shaking and he came across someone who needed his aid.
With his quiet chastisement, he continued his search of the undergrowth. His eyes scanned the ground, breath misting the air before him. Galen crept along the roots, ears intently tuned to the earth and fingers tracing along the ground with the subtle imprints of those that passed through the area before him. One step, and then another, and immediately he realized that something was wrong.
He stepped carefully around the roots, keen eyes picking up untouched herbs which he quickly pocketed. Something felt odd in the air. Perhaps it was the scent. Maybe it was the scrape marks left behind. What Galen knew was the trees parted into a clearing which he found himself in the middle of, and something was telling him he wasn’t alone.
“Hello?” he called out once, softly. His voice sounded thin, swallowed by bark and moss and the darkness of the woods. He waited. He counted his breaths, mist forming by his lips, and imagined counting being the only thing someone could do if they were alone and injured. The man held his breath and listened hard.
Though nothing responded, what he heard was answer enough.
*CRACK*
He told himself not to turn around. Nothing good ever came from such an action, yet he did anyway.
He didn’t see it strike. Perhaps that’s what made it worse. Galen would never know which was better, seeing the thing as it unfolded itself from the shadows, slipping out of the trees like some silent spectre or suddenly finding himself in the thing’s mouth, wedged in the corner as it ground down onto his leg, the eye that barely clung to its socket lulling out and watching him as it attempted to swallow him whole.
The pain shooting through his leg was indescribable. It was white hot and blinding, so sudden his body didn’t know how to scream yet. Galen was convinced it was all over, the grinding at his knee the only thing he could hear, when he suddenly hit the ground, hard. Breath gone. Hands scrabbled uselessly at the leaf‑slick earth from his blood as he attempted to crawl away.
Pinpoint vision offered no insight into the creature or its movement, but the sudden heat of its mouth wrapped around him once more painted a clear picture. Hot, salty tears lined his cheeks. Galen momentarily saw the ridges of the thing’s mouth and attempted to kick with a limb that was no longer there as the mouth closed around him, sealing him into this moist coffin.
Then, a rumble. The forest shook. With the teeth creating a haunting silhouette, Galen turned in time to see light split the trees. Something burst forward and wrenched the thing’s mouth open, dropping Galen onto something that wasn’t the ground. Flashes of light and the sound of further crashing barely broke through the intense ringing in the human man’s ears.
Galen registered the movement only as the sudden absence of teeth, tongue, and then the wet heat of blood soaking through his trousers. The ground beneath him curved and warmed his back as the heat continued to drain out of his body. Galen realized the things he believed were trees were fingers as they clasped around his body and lifted him as easily as a child would a pebble.
A Colossus.
“Hang in there little guy,” said some voice, loud but reassuring. Hands impossibly large and careful pressed into his wound. Someone screamed, though Galen wasn’t sure if it was his own or some distant memory. Blurred features loomed over him, yet it didn’t bring panic. It brought comfort. Galen felt a tingling warmth surround his leg, glancing down in time to make out robes of teal and cream with speckles of crimson, undoubtedly from him.
“You will live,” the Colossus said, voice low and strained. “I’m sorry I didn’t come here sooner. Hold on.” Galen nodded, though his vision was tunneling. He did not ask for more. A horn sounded—urgent, distant. Sensation and time lost meaning as he felt himself lifted, completely weightless, higher and higher.
When Galen came too again, he woke to human hands tending to his wound, wrapping his leg in cloth fit for humans. Someone was pressing cloth to his leg. Someone else was calling his name, voice breaking. The bandages were tight, clumsy, already soaked through in places. The air smelled of smoke and sweat and fear. The first glimpse of the stump where his leg once was made the pain return. It made the loss real. It made the war against these monstrosities real.
Days later after he’d fought for every hour of his life and regained consciousness consistently, Galen learned that some Colossus had brought him to the others and had set him down, briefly explaining his injury before returning to the fray.
All expressed the same sentiment.
“You’re lucky to be alive, Galen…”
Galen… Galen!
~~~^*^*^~~~
His name grew fainter as it was called, like hearing his name as an echo.
“Galen?”
“Galen!”
I know that voice…
Lira?
Galen pried open his eyes and, though blurry, realized Lira was at his side, hands pressed against his chest. Relief filled her youthful features, tears pricking the sides of her eyes.
“Galen? Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah,” he groaned. “Don’t worry. It’s just… a lot.” Galen pushed himself upright only to realize he’d been moved on top of a kind of mattress and propped up. Movement caught the apothecary’s eye, and instinctually he turned toward the one responsible - Serida. Some small cup was in her hand and a tray in the other that was clearly sized for a human.
“Ah, Galen. I’m glad to see you’re back,” she stated politely before setting the tray nearby. The scent of chamomile tea was an inviting one, and something Galen had used for years as part of his brews to help calm and soothe nerves.
My potions…
The words together felt surreal, especially with the thought they belonged to anything other than the Colossus came to mind.
“I… should apologize,” Serida said while scooting the tray closer to Galen and his ward. Her tone was genuine enough, though Galen suspected they hadn’t heard the end of the Lady Serida’s explanations. “Between my brother and myself, I have always been considered the more tactful one, yet my approach in explaining your connection to the arcane was premature. For this, I am sorry. Evidently, being Witness of the Folk and Archanist of the Unmeasured provides no insight in how to approach the subject of someone’s arcane abilities.”
Galen shook his head, cheeks still burning slightly with embarrassment that he’d passed out, overwhelmed with information. “No, it’s… better… to be direct. It was just unexpected.” His focus turned to Lira as she remained faithfully at his side. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m alright,” Lira said, the first hint of a smile curling onto her lips since the previous day. She pulled Galen’s cloak onto her shoulders and up around her neck. In her face, Galen saw something foreign. Something hopeful. Habit brought his hand up to grasp her shoulder, acting as silent encouragement as he’d done so many times before. “I mean…” Lira continued. “It’s… nice. Good, you know? I mean, having all of these dreams for years and now finally… understanding… why.”
Galen searched Lira’s dark eyes and could see a burning, curious light. It was a strength he’d only glimpsed and now could see in the dim light of this chamber in the house of giants. He felt something like a chuckle escape him in disbelief.
“Well, you’re taking this better than me,” he sighed. He thought about the evidence Serida had presented and, somewhere inside him, felt a spark ignite. Perhaps it was hindsight or simply recognizing something that had been there all along, but the moments of him harvesting one herb over another and exploring areas because of a “good feeling” where he’d find rare herbs, excellently preserved for his brews and concoctions came to him in the moment. How many other instances like that had occurred that had just passed over Galen’s head?
More importantly, what was meant to happen next.
At some point, Lira had retrieved a cup for herself and for Galen of the chamomile tea, the three of them sipping in silence. Like holding a breath before the plunge that was clearly below, they all waited for the other to take that first step.
This time, however, it was Lira.
“Um… M’Lady Serida?” Her voice gained the attention of the room, Serida especially. The glass in her hand made a gentle clinking sound as it made contact with the saucer a short distance from the Lira and her guardian. With expectant eyes on her, Lira continued. “You said… your power is fading? And that you need our help?”
“Correct.”
“But… how? I mean… what can we do?” The question sounded as small as they felt. Here they were, two humans sitting on a desk meant for giants and who just had their concept of the arcane expanded beyond their wildest dreams, quite possibly with the fate of their kind and the Colossus at the tips of their fingers.
At this, Serida sighed, arms folding across her chest as she paused in contemplation. “Well, for one, you two will need to begin more formal training. You need to learn how to harness your abilities; or, at the very least, allow you to tap into it reliably. Then, more challenging, we need to bring this before the other Archanists of the Unmeasured. Then, even more challenging, we will have to demonstrate you and the others are capable of fighting a war none were prepared for.”
It took a moment for Galen to realize the faint clattering sound was coming from his shaking hands and the cup and saucer he was grasping. He swallowed dryly and took a nervous sip, draining what little tea remained in his cup, before placing it onto the tray.
“And… you think we can do it? Harness this… power we apparently have?” asked Galen. The look in the Colossus’s eyes alone revealed her determination.
“We… what?” Galen wasn’t sure if he’d asked it or if something willed his body to ask on his behalf.
“The arcane. Magic. Both of you. You possess the ability to harness magic. Lira more so than yourself, but being your daughter it’s logical to assume it would grow exponentially with each generation,” stated Serida while reaching forward to an immense leather journal and, summoning a quill and inkwell with a twirl of her fingers, began writing. Quick, jolting motions from the tip of the quill traced arcane words Galen couldn’t begin to hope to understand. Instead, his mind latched onto something else Serida said.
“She’s not my daughter,” Galen said, still stunned.
Realizing how it sounded and noticing Lira looking up at him, features beginning to sink in guilt and deep pain. She looked heartbroken, borderline betrayed and in pain. “I mean, she is… but… she isn’t. Her father was my best friend. I took her in after he passed. So, she is my daughter… now.” Heart racing, Galen found himself sinking to his knees, Lira inching forward and curling into him as she’d done all her life, obviously relieved.
This, however, gave Serida pause. Realization blended with curiosity.
“So, you’re unrelated?” asked Serida, brow quirked in surprise.
“Yes, M’Lady.” Galen, arm around Lira, absent mindedly began pinching his left arm again, wincing at the already bruised area he’d created the day before in desperation to wake from this strange dream. The woman hummed, surprised, before returning her attention to her journal, scratching with the quill some altered version of what she’d just written.
“Alright then. Honestly taken a bit by surprise by that, but it’s irrelevant at the moment. I assume you’d like those answers now? Yes?” asked Serida. She paused for a beat to observe their reaction of stunned silence before continuing. “I’ll take your silence as confirmation.
“It honestly has been occurring for generations, though this is the first time I’ve managed to witness it. Myself and a few others from allied houses have tasked ourselves with finding humans who are arcanely gifted and sheltering them, at least for the time being. The intent is to better hone your skills and prepare you to return to your respective homes to act as the new guardians. To be honest, I wasn’t optimistic about the town and those part of The Choosing until I saw your reaction to my sigils.
“I digress. Somewh-”
“I… sorry…” Galen interrupted. “My reaction? To what? Sigils?”
“Yes, sigils. The wood was replaced and stained by our craft masters and sent to your town in preparation for The Choosing. Before they were sent, I was sure to inscribe some identifying sigils into the wood that would alert me if any arcanely blessed crossed over them,” explained Serida. Galen’s memories flashed before his eyes as he remembered walking across the stage and seeing those strange, fresh carvings in the freshly stained wood. He’d attributed them to being a feature that was always there - something ceremonial.
“You… put them there? But.. a-anyone would’ve seen them. They glowed for crying out loud,” argued Galen. “Lira, you noticed them too, didn’t you?” Lira nodded, but it only seemed to affirm Serida’s previous point. Serida shook her head and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“No, not just anyone would’ve seen them because of how I inscribed them. Only those capable of seeing them - those with the sight and ability to detect magic - would’ve been able to see it; that and I felt the sigil burn as you both passed by them. There’s no denying it, Galen.” Serida’s tone was matter-of-fact. Not quite detached, but obviously eager to continue and therefore dismissive of his denial.
It did nothing to quell Galen’s disbelief.
“But… I don’t know spells. No sigils. I can’t… summon things as you did just now. Neither can Lira. Y-you… you have to be mistaken,” Galen countered.
“Well, no one naturally knows spells and sigils. Even those during the Awakening didn’t have words and names for what they were experiencing.” At this, Serida’s teal eyes gleamed, connecting with Galen’s gaze in a way that felt like she was staring through him at something he couldn’t see. “This is what you’re going through; at least, I have reason to believe that’s the case.” She noticed the disbelieving stare from the human man. “Still don’t believe me? Let me ask you then, Galen, how did you lose your leg?”
Galen stiffened instantly, muscles pulling taut as if he were hit with an intense cold turning him into stone. It wasn’t something he talked about, and those who knew already didn’t discuss it. Even Lira had only asked once years ago when she was very young and when she was learning about him after he took her in as his own. Galen had only given Lira the basics instead of the vicious attack it truly was, all those who witnessed the aftermath surprised that he was alive. The blatant disregard for such a personal story made the man bristle.
Before he could respond, Serida asked, “It was an attack, yes? One of the creatures came after you? A monster? Why were you attacked? Have you ever wondered that?”
He bristled and shook his head. “No. No, I haven’t. You know why? Because there is no reason. They attack and slaughter because that’s what they do. I put myself in a dangerous situation to help others and it happened. It was a spontaneous encounter. Random chance and bad luck.”
“No, Galen. They don’t do spontaneous. They don’t do random. Each attack serves a purpose, just as my taking you and your ward under my care serves a purpose. Those monsters seek out arcane imprints. They seek out people like you because they need to absorb your essence to stay alive.” It didn’t sound real. How could it be?
Galen started shaking his head disbelievingly. He tore his eyes away, focusing instead on Lira, whose gaze was completely transfixed on the Colossus in front of them, continued to shake as she asked, “Is… is that true? Is that w-why my mom… my dad…” Lira’s voice trailed off, focus shifting to Galen’s mechanical right leg.
“If they were attacked by the beasts, then yes. My condolences.” Serida bowed her head reverently, an acknowledgement for the loss and pain Lira endured.
“If… that’s the case… why not tell everyone? Why not warn others?” Galen demanded.
“Because,” sighed the woman as she leaned back in her immense chair. “Some of the other houses are doing the same thing and catching wind of the allied houses harboring humans as wards and arcanists in training could very well start a civil war if we misstep. It’s bureaucratic nonsense which prevents our interference with the other noble houses and their so-called ‘balance of power’ which too many of them cherish.”
Few words stitched together sounded more haunting than Serida’s last statement.
War? Among the Colossus? Some of the other houses are doing the same thing? Same thing as w-... the… monsters?
The old stories and rumors, now given new life, churned Galen’s stomach. Muddled and overwhelmed, Galen’s ears began ringing. The nausea coated the back of his throat with bile, a sickening gurgle. It smattered the roof of his mouth as he coughed, which made his body lurch involuntarily. Lira, too, looked appalled, though Galen caught a glimpse of something in the air around her that alluded to her lack of surprise.
“But, why? Why now?” asked Galen softly.
The Lady Serida sighed and folded her arms across her chest, first hint of melancholy etching its way onto her lips. “Why are the other Colossus houses allowing their people to consume humans like the monsters we protected you from? Why the increased creature attacks? Why not tell? Because the Colossus are waning. Our power is fading, and myself and a few others are attempting to usher in a new era while others desperately cling to their authority. And I can’t do that without your help. Both of you.”
Something the Lady Serida had said while in the other room came to the forefront of the man’s mind. In between deep breaths and daring to swallow the bile coating his throat, Galen asked, “You said skills? ‘I have tasks for you as well…. Your skills haven’t been lost on me…. So… like her, you were unaware of what you were doing.’ That’s… the magic, but what were we doing? I-is that why Lira was in here?” He looked down at the teen he’d sworn to protect. “What was she having you do?”
Lira grasped a fist full of Galen’s cloak and inhaled, slow and deep, before responding quietly. “I… I don’t really understand it. S-sh-she called it portents?” Serida nodded, obviously having caught Lira’s tiny voice.
“Meditation on portents,” she added. “But excellent recollection.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” The stress must’ve been evident in his voice because Serida wasted no time explaining, not that it offered the reassurance or deescalation Galen hoped for.
“Lira is a precognit, Galen. A clairvoyant. Albeit a young one and untrained, but gifted even by Colossus standards.”
Galen’s memory flashed again, reminding Galen of a thousand little instances of luck. Staying inside and keeping him from going to the forest the day of some particularly nasty storms. Catching things without looking. Avoiding areas of the woods. Even the previous morning.
“You… were so apprehensive… the morning of The Choosing.” Galen’s voice broke on every few words. “You… saw it?”
Piercing eyes.
Lira shied away, averting her face to prevent looking at him, but nodded.
“But… then… I… I don’t… I mean, I’m not…”
“No, you’re not a precognit, but something just as useful. No, much like your title in your village, you’re an alchemist. Your profession as an apothecary was the giveaway and I doubt you would’ve noticed anything out of the ordinary when brewing your concoctions,” stated Serida.
“No… that’s… just…”
“Good herb picking?” Serida guessed with a shake of her head. “No. Something not only drew you to the optimal herbs, Galen, but your work with the individual components made your remedies potent - magic. It was the tell I was looking for when I asked to come along for The Choosing.”
An alchemist? My work as an apothecary… was me performing… magic?
It was altogether becoming too much. Galen’s head was swimming. Vision began to form pinpoints.
Is… everything I thought wrong? Is nothing what it seems?
Drowning in teal eyes. The rush of air all around with the rise and fall of a hand. Glowing sigils carved into the ground spiraling faster and faster before creating a whirlpool and sucking him down into what was once a hard table. As he fell, Galen felt himself beginning to fall and instinctively jolted as he went into freefall.
All at once, Galen sat bolt upright. Galen’s dream had somehow startled him awake, and surveying his surroundings left little comfort here in the waking world. He was still in the room that was entirely foreign to him. The comfort of the bed offered some consolation for the dreams, but did little as his gaze found only the imprint of where his ward was sleeping beside him. He scanned the room quickly and turned his keen hearing to the sounds of the house, but discerned nothing.
“Lira?”
Silence.
“Lira?” The hair on the back of his neck raised and a shiver shocked his system. The more reasonable part of him knew she was probably hiding or exploring around their new home, but the more paternal side of him began to slowly dread the silence, filling in the gaps to his detriment, like a stream filling a blocked pond.
“Lira, are you here?”
He pushed himself onto his feet and began moving through the halls, a franticness beginning to set in the longer he searched for his ward. “Lira!” Galen called. His heart skipped like a skipping stone on water as he failed to spot her. “Lira!” Galen scoured the other bedrooms, the reading nooks, and nearly burst into the kitchen, nerves beginning to constrict his chest, when something caught his attention.
A scent of roasted meat. It wafted through the air along with the sound of clinking eating utensils. What made it worse was that it wasn’t from where Galen was standing in the kitchen - it was coming from beyond the walls, outside. The macabre stories of other Colossus and what they did to their chosen humans flashed in his mind. Fear for his well-being vaporized in an instant and yet multiplied for Lira as he darted to the window and spotted Serida at her desk, and based on the scene in front of him Galen suspected she was eating something.
Instantly, his gut hollowed as he charged outside onto the terrace, scanning both for Lira and any signs for where she might’ve gone. He was so distracted that he nearly tumbled over the trunk which they’d left untouched from the day before. The sound of him clattering against the trunk, mechanical leg whirring at the impact, pulled focus onto him, which he realized the moment he looked over his shoulder and met a cool, teal gaze. She smiled at Galen politely before returning to her meal.
“Good morning, Galen,” she greeted while wiping the edge of her knife against her fork, both of which were longer than Galen’s body. “Did you sleep well?”
“Where’s Lira?” It wasn’t meant to be rude or dismissive, but pleasantries came second to Lira’s safety. It was painstaking watching Serida quietly chew her food as he waited in suspense.
“Generally,” began Serida as she set down her utensils and wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin which could’ve covered four family dining tables back home. “We return a ‘good morning’ with something of the kind. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“You didn’t answer mine! Where is she?” His blood felt like it was beginning to burn his skin. Serida’s jaw slowly stiffened while she looked at the human man, curious and taken aback at his boldness.
It was a standoff, if such a thing could exist between a human and a Colossus. Maintaining eye-contact with such an impossibly immense figure wasn’t something Galen had practiced nor had experience doing. Still, his stubbornness overrode his wariness of consequences for acting in such direct defiance.
He was also well aware that outright hostility and stupidity would get him nowhere. The man forced himself to swallow his pride and remember his manners. It wasn’t for him. It was for Lira.
“Good morning,” he said stiffly, jaw etched with frustration. “Thank you for asking. I slept well. And you?” Each word was forced through teeth that wanted to remain clenched. He attempted to breathe normally despite the feeling of constriction across his chest.
It was clear that the Lady Serida was calculating and cold, but now particular and petty were on the list too. Thankfully the moment passed and the woman’s face, harshly stern, eased.
“As did I. Thank you for asking.” She slowly cut into her meal. “To answer your question, Lira is fine. She’s safe. I have her meditating in the other room.”
“Meditating?”
“A technique that focuses on breathing and mindful awareness. It’s meant to enhance your senses, clarity, a-”
“Yes, I know what meditation… is.” Galen didn’t mean to interrupt and cut himself off before appearing more disrespectful than he already suspected he was being. Again, for Lira’s sake, he adjusted his language. “Apologies, M’Lady. I… should’ve asked why instead.”
“For peace and quiet. Can’t interrupt her needlessly. Not when I need her,” replied Serida, nodding curtly once in acknowledgement of Galen’s statement before taking the next bite of her meal. The casual tone didn’t override Galen’s fears. They intensified them. Like being dragged down the side of a snowy hill, all was slippery, only making him slide faster from one dangerous thought to the next.
“Need her? What for? M… M’Lady, she… Lira is just a child. P… P-please. Whatever you need her for, I’m certain I can…”
“Oh, I have tasks for you as well, Galen of North Hollow. Your skills haven’t been lost on me.” Serida’s interruption left him numb. Cold. Stunned into silence and his keeper knew it. Skills? What skills? Serida’s teal blue eyes gleamed, years of secret study, knowledge coveted after hard earned years, while reading the few lines on the human man’s face. “So… like her, you were unaware of what you were doing. Fascinating.”
Fragmented questions reflected and refracted off one another as if imitating a mirror suspended in water. Galen couldn’t put together a coherent thought to save his life.
Skills haven’t been l-...
But… what does that have to do with…?
And Lira? Meditating? When did she…?
What is this woman talking…?
And how…?
The Lady Serida placed her utensils onto the tray beside her before wiping her mouth casually, then pushed herself back from the desk in one fluid motion. Believing she was about to leave, Galen willed a half-hearted, “wait,” but wasn’t sure if he was relieved or wary when Serida reached over and held her hand flush with the terrace. Galen realized a moment after it happened that he’d looked from the Colossus’s face and then to her hand multiple times in rapid succession as if he wasn’t aware of what she was asking of him.
What felt like an hour was only a few seconds as Lady Serida gestured to her hand with a nod. “I promise, Galen, no harm shall come to you while I am present, which is more than I can say for other the other families.”
Her words hit hard, as if a stone had dropped into his stomach; but the hint of confirmation only solidified Galen’s need to assure his ward’s safety.
“My safety doesn’t matter, but Lira’s does. Can you offer the same assurance for her?” asked Galen. Serida nodded with the first hint of warm reassurance he’d seen from her, emboldening him to ask. “Is… that where you’re taking me now? To Lira?”
“Naturally,” Serida sighed. “Based on both of your confusion, it makes more sense to explain everything once. Now, shall we?”
She said it with such ease. Like it was so simple. Hop over the balustrade onto a hand to be carried to some other location. Galen silently admitted that interrupting the Colossus woman seemed more intimidating than being carried at the time, but now confronted with the choice, he found himself hesitating. It wasn’t the first time, but being only the second wasn’t reassuring.
She hasn’t hurt us. Galen reminded himself as that familiar memory helped guide his first footstep. I’ve trusted up until this point, and little else can be done now. Another step. The old familiarity of his mechanical leg clinking on the stone beneath him reminded him of the power they possessed and of their mercy, good will toward their kind with nothing in return. She’s going to give us answers. That’s what matters, and Lira’s safety.
He stepped onto the uneven surface with his good leg, stabilizing himself, before swinging the other leg over the balustrade. Like before, there was a distinct give to the living limb beneath him. Standing on living flesh, the support beneath being bone, sent chills up Galen’s spine. It made his nerves scream in protest, and bringing himself down to a crouch to not topple over was all he could do to compromise with his instincts. While his heart raced, he slowly inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth.
“On we go,” said Serida, which was the only warning he received as she pulled her hand away from the terrace and began making her way across the room toward a door he hadn’t seen before by the balcony. Like before, her steps were smooth and brisk. He didn’t jostle an inch as they crossed the space, a distance that would’ve taken Galen an hour to cross on his own, before gingerly opening the door and stepping over the threshold.
The difference between the two spaces was staggering. The bedroom where they just were was illuminated by the open windows leading out to the balcony, the warmth of the sun casting its light across the water and through the leaves, giving the room a blue-green glow. Sheer curtains reflected the light across the cool stone. The scent on the wind was warm and faintly salty from the water’s mist.
The room they stepped into opposed it in nearly every way. The one window looked to be arcanely dimmed, fragments of light seeping through the faint shimmering that looked like the surface of a pond in the early morning hours. Proportionally, it was the size of a large closet or wardrobe. There was only one small desk with shelves above and beside it. If Galen was grateful for anything, it was the smell, which immediately reminded him of the home they left the day before. It was of herbs and living, growing things. Spices and drying leaves, roots and earth.
This fondness of familiarity was instantly countered when Galen spotted a water filled basin on the desk, a series of glowing sigils below it, and a figure floating on the surface of the water.
His heart dropped into his stomach, eyes locked onto Lira floating on the surface of the basin. She was unmoving. So unnaturally still that he couldn’t even see a ripple in the water where she rested. He didn’t know if she was breathing - it didn’t look like it - and the way she was splayed was unlike anything he’d seen her do.
“LIRA!” The shriek rose up in his throat and erupted out of him before he could stop himself. The hand beneath him curled in an attempt to block his view, Serida beginning to turn away. “I… wait! Please! I’m sorry, M’Lady. I… please! She can’t swim!”
“Sshhh…” Serida raised her unoccupied hand to her lips, pressing a single finger against them, while staring intently at Galen. “I will wake her. Please, if you would, refrain from shouting.” Her breath was low and even. If he didn’t know better, the tone was one of warning. “Temper yourself.”
Serida approached the desk again and, with one additional warning look in her illuminated teal eyes, rested the hand where Galen was crouched onto the table, allowing him to step off. Eagerly, he watched the Colossus woman begin to trace symbols in the air just to the side of the basin, each a brilliant teal that lingered in the air as if drawn by fire. His heart began racing faster with each passing moment. He swore he saw Serida smile out of the corner of her mouth before flicking her wrist, condensing the writing into a thin flame before snuffing it like a candle.
She then reached toward the bowl and submerged her hand under the water, words muttered under her breath, and fished her fingers under Lira’s body. Until that point, there were no ripples along the surface. It had been completely undisturbed. The moment her fingers made contact with Lira’s back and began to lift, Lira sprung to life - jolted in fact. Like how she startled awake after a bad dream, Lira attempted to sit bolt upright and immediately began to sink into the water. The teen would’ve submerged if not for Serida’s fingers just beneath her. The teen scrambled up onto the awaiting fingers, curling into them while shivering, as Serida lifted her hand from the water and placed Lira, a sopping mess, next to Galen.
Witnessing this was surreal, but Galen couldn’t afford to ponder the oddity of how quickly Lira had gone with this stranger, let alone a giant. He rushed to the teen’s side, peeling off his cloak which he’d failed to remove from the day before, and quickly wrapped Lira in it. Numbly, she accepted the warmth of the leather, but her eyes were distant. As if stunned, Lira stayed resting on her bent knees and propped up by her arm while the other kept the cloak in place. Galen crouched in front of her, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Serida was quickly drawing strange symbols in the air just over the water as she stared intently into the basin, eyes searching the surface and tracking some unseen thing as if watching a darting fish.
Turning his attention back to Lira, he cupped her face in his calloused hands and searched her features for some semblance of acknowledgement. “Lira? Lira? You’re okay. Can you hear me? Please, say something. Did she do something to you?” Galen took care to keep his voice low, uncertain if it was futile to disguise his apprehension and distrust.
Slowly, as if truly waking, Lira blinked and looked into Galen’s eyes, expression unreadable as the complexity of emotions blended into one another. Concern. Curiosity. Fear. Excitement. A fragment of shame maybe. The moment she truly saw him, meeting his eyes, did tears begin to well up.
“G… Galen? I… I-I-I-I’m sorry. I… I… I wanted to… Th-there are q-q-questions… questions I have… I wanted to protect you a-and…”
“Shh… it’s okay. You’re okay,” Galen soothed, grasping her shoulder with one hand and wiping the tears away with the other. “Lira, you don’t have to protect me. I’m the one who needs to be protecting you; but I can’t do that if you go wandering off. Lira, I mean… what possessed you to just get up and leave? Go with her without telling me?” Guilt riddled the girl’s face. “And questions? What questions?”
Lira stared up into Galen’s dark eyes and then glanced to Serida. “S-she said she could help get answers.”
“I daresay so,” Serida stated after tearing her eyes away from the water’s surface. It was clear in an instant that she had been able to hear everything they were saying and wasn’t bashful about revealing so. “Especially now. Thank you.” There was a shimmer in her fingers, an opalescent gleam that materialized an immense, fluffy towel unlike anything Galen or Lira had seen before. She set the towel beside Lira and Galen, tucking the corner into Lira’s arms with her ring finger as she leaned back into her seat, teal gaze dancing with an eagerness Galen recognized as he’d had the same look when discovering something new, accomplishing something he didn’t know was possible.
While Lira wrestled herself onto the towel, wrapping it around her midsection while keeping Galen’s cloak on her shoulders, Galen stood and turned his eyes to the still glowing sigils under the basin of water, then faced Serida.
“What answers? What is going on? You talk about skills and us being unaware. Unaware of what?” Galen’s voice carried in the small room, making him feel louder, bigger, than he’d ever felt in his life.
Serida’s next words offered the explanation he could never have predicted.
To look up into the face of a giant when they held your life in their hands was a surreal experience, especially after that same giant uttered the words, “Now… let’s get started.” Galen craned his neck up, skin and muscle pinching at the acute angle he maintained, heart hammering relentlessly as a chill emanated from some part of his core. Hair raised on his arms. The fine line of asking the Colossus to elaborate without sounding like he was pleading desperately for his and Lira’s life was barely a hair’s width, but little else could be done.
“M… M’Lady Serida?” Galen was surprised at the volume of his own voice, heart feeling like it was making his voice warble and shake. He was louder and clearer than he anticipated, and, to his surprise, gained the attention of the Amdir woman immediately. Not only that, but she stopped advancing the moment she heard Galen speak.
Find your words. Don’t appear weak, but phrase your asks politely. It’s not just you involved in this.
“Yes, Galen?” Serida’s hand shifted beneath the two of them as she lifted her hand up while keeping her arm extended, keeping Galen and Lira from being shoved next to her face to respond. Now at eye-level, Galen had to force his throat clear prior to daring to speak again.
“I erm…” Only now did Galen look into the piercing, almond shaped eyes and realize the color was the same teal on the Amdir family banners. Taken aback momentarily, Galen felt compelled to look away; that is, until he felt Lira tuck further against his side, practically engulfed in his cloak, and steeled himself. Bowing as properly as he could manage without losing his balance, Galen asked, “M’Lady, before we begin, c-could…” Galen’s throat constricted, fumbling the word. He ensured to speak slowly and clearly to not repeat the same mistake. “Could Lira and I get settled? Take a moment to… collect ourselves?”
“Your formality is flattering, but unnecessary,” Serida replied without hesitation. “As for retiring for the time being, that is precisely what was intended. We’ll have time to converse later. I wanted to explain some of the features of where you’ll be staying before attending some important meetings. Shall we?”
She waited, to Galen’s surprise, until receiving a timid nod from Lira, who peaked out from her guardian’s cloak and was imitating his bow. Serida crossed the room with ease and placed her hand onto an expansive second-floor terrace that arced out from the main structure, clearly meant for this purpose. Galen and Lira quickly stepped off onto solid ground, relieved, while Serida placed their trunk of all their packed belongings near the entrance. They turned instinctually toward the Colossus as she began explaining elements of the home which sounded fantastical and unlike anything they had in their world.
“Now, a few things to note. Water here is enchanted to warm or chill based on the pipe you turn. Left is hot. Right is cold. You’re free to go into any of the rooms in your new abode, but attempting to descend the table is ill-advised, especially without notification as you might be crushed,” stated Serida. “The interior is furnished and there are some standard clothing items. We shall discuss wardrobe options when I return. If there’s anything you require, please don’t hesitate to inform me. Do either of you write?”
Galen and Lira both nodded.
“Excellent. If I’m not present and you require something, there’s a parchment scroll by the right side of every door. Write it down and tear it from the parchment. It will be sent to my lady in waiting instantly via arcane spell and she’ll attend to what you require if I’m not available. Please use that sparingly, however, as you fall under my jurisdiction. Any questions?”
“No, M’Lady Serida,” replied Galen. Those piercing teal eyes flicked between the two humans as they remained where they’d been placed before she nodded curtly.
“Very well. I shall return with sustenance in a few hours. Your pantry is stocked should you so desire, though I’d prefer we have our next few meals together as I’d like to get to know the both of you. Until then.” Serida offered a polite head nod, which Galen and Lira returned with a bow, as she whisked herself out of the room, parchments and quill in tow, leaving the two of them alone once more.
Now that they were by themselves, Lira completely collapsed to her knees, shoulders crumpling like an overwatered plant. She withered into herself as the disbelief finally began settling over Galen, who staggered to their trunk and sat down heavily. It didn’t feel real. How could it be real - how could he feel this way - when he was so numb? His hand reached up involuntarily and began repeatedly pinching his left forearm, some prayer inside hoping this was all just a dream.
His thoughts, few and far between, lacked coherence. One moment, his mind focused on the possibility of escape and hiding from the Colossus, but it was quickly dismissed as he realized the futility and potential consequences of that action. They’d been given no reason to be afraid; at least, not entirely. The next moment, Galen contemplated conversation with Lady Serida for one reason only - protect Lira.
Lira.
Galen leaned over, elbows resting on top of his knees as they bounced nervously, as his hands rubbed against his hands against his bearded jawline before resting, clasped, in front of his lips. Eyes remained distant as the flashing memory from earlier on that platform played in his mind again. It wasn’t just eerie. It was unnerving. It unsettled the guardian to his core as he heard Lira and Serida’s voice uttering the same words in tandem.
How did she know?
He felt the cold sweat on his brow make contact with the tips of his fingers as a single bead dripped along his temple. The skipping thoughts that were darting across the churning waters of his mind slowed to the one thing he could control now. Galen noticed Lira sitting, defeated, and felt the question rise in his throat knowing full well he was breaking the one thing he’d always promised himself - not to press and let her come to him.
“Lira.” The way she flinched at her name, shying away, meant she knew where this was going. The teen continued to keep her head down, a look that didn’t quite fit her. Galen had always seen life from this child. Though quiet more often than not, it was a rare occasion for her to be so quiet for so long, especially in what Galen could only describe as apprehension. Fear.
“Lira, I… know I always promised to not… press you… on things you feel. Not until you’re ready.” Galen saw Lira shivering harder. He leaned forward, knowing that it would do little good with them being several feet from one another. It still seemed to have an effect on Lira, however, while she continued to dodge Galen’s attempt to catch her eye. He continued. “After everything that happened with your father and you coming to live with me, I… have always ensured to hold true to this.
“Lira, you’re not in trouble, but I want… need… to know how you knew what Lady Serida was going to say.” Galen was met with silence except for Lira’s stifled sniffles. The sound of her tears hitting the stone beneath her was all Galen could discern as he listened and waited with quickly fading patience. “Lira, please. This is important.” Galen pushed himself to his feet and began pacing a few steps one way and then the next as he took in the structure meant to accommodate them. Some sense of urgency began to clench the man’s chest.
“I don’t know why this is happening. I don’t know why we were chosen. I don’t believe the Amdir as a whole mean us harm, or Lady Serida for that matter, but… Lira… I need to know everything if I’m going to keep us safe,” urged Galen. He stepped in front of her, his subtle shadow eclipsing her, before kneeling before his ward. “Look at me. If you know something, you need to tell me.” He caught her chin with a curled index finger, but she could not meet his gaze.
She remained quiet.
Knowing this was a futile endeavor, Galen sighed, frustration tensing the back of his throat, before pushing himself to his feet, knee on his mechanical leg catching, before managing to rise to his full height. Seeing nothing else to do, Galen turned his efforts onto exploring the structure looming beside them.
Their new home.
Galen’s surprise at the ease of opening such an immense door escaped in an audible “huh” as he stepped inside the first room, door pushing to the side as if weightless. Instantly, he felt his jaw slacken as he saw the interior. It mirrored the main hall of the Amdir home, a grand archway culminating in a pointed dome over the first tiled room. Even the furniture mimicked the interior with the vine-like tables and chairs.
Astonished, Galen realized his jaw had slackened while taking in the extravagant scene. To the left was a kitchen easily double the size of Galen’s home in the town. The stairway beyond led to who knew what; most likely bedrooms if Galen had to guess. A Library filled to the brim with books, spines neatly organized, sat to the right. Writing desks made of gorgeous, dark wood with the same vine pattern found elsewhere in the home sat in the corners of the room. The elegance and effort was overshadowed by the tiny, detailed elements, which offered the essence of comfort and welcome, but coldly. It was as if someone who didn’t know Galen’s personal preferences took initiative and decorated his home in a way only they saw fit without asking Galen or Lira for that matter.
Walking through the space felt like traversing a dream. Every detail felt too perfect. Every turn led to some new space. Each moment, the hope of waking presented itself; only to be spoiled with the harsh reality that this was indeed their new life.
There’s enough to do here for our lifetimes and then some. Reading. Writing. I wonder if I’ll be able to garden. Is the soil here the same or different than it is back home? Will I be around long enough to find out?
Galen ventured up the stairs and indeed found a few bedrooms, four poster beds with curtains and lavish covers which felt like how clouds looked in the sky. Never had Galen’s calloused hands touched something so fine. Disbelievingly, he hesitated before turning around and sitting down onto the bed, sinking into the mattress as a boot would to soft mud. The fear of smudging the covers was completely secondary as Galen felt his body momentarily relax against the comfort of the cushion below him.
His eyelids drooped. The excitement of earlier overwhelmed him and, soon after, Galen realized he was prone on the bed staring at the ceiling drifting off to sleep. The apothecary was only vaguely aware of Lira entering the room he was in, only noticing as the bed shifted as she curled into his side.
Sweet dreams for the both of us.
We might need them.
~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~
Lira hated everything about the past day. Really, the whole past week if she was being honest. The ceremony. Traveling here with the Colossus. What she hated more than anything, however, was the fact that Galen had been pulled into this whole mess too. He’d always been so kind and warm to her. Always understanding and caring. Generous. Thoughtful. Anyone who didn’t know them would’ve guessed he was her father or a much older brother.
That’s just the way it was, and Lira didn’t want it any other way.
Did she miss her parents? Naturally; but that’s hard to do when you don’t remember them very well. If she was being honest, thinking of a parent figure only led her to think of Galen.
It made this whole thing so much worse.
I should’ve tried harder.
I should’ve pretended to be sick.
Maybe then we wouldn’t’ve have been chosen by the giants.
I could’ve convinced him. I could’ve done a lot of things to keep us from going.
Lira curled against Galen’s side, relishing in the warmth of his body and the softness of the bed beneath them, smell of drying herbs and leather from Galen’s clothes grounding the teen. She grasped onto his coat and pressed her face into the fabric while wishing it would lull her back to sleep.
It was as she closed her eyes, however, that she noticed a new sound that wasn’t Galen’s soft snores as he remained peacefully asleep. Scratching? The sound of rustling parchment? Lira’s curiosity pricked the back of her mind, compelling her to sit upright and scan the room of stone and adorned with vines and Amdir family colors. She followed the lines of the vines around the room to the windows. She could see the books on the shelves beside the clear panels of glass. She could see the reflection of the setting sun in the mirror on the other side of the room, colors streaked across the sky in aurora-like colors. More importantly, she could see the Lady Serida at her writing desk just outside the room where they slept.
A shiver shot up Lira’s spine and felt the instinctual urge to shy away when some part of her resisted.
You have questions…
And… you dragged Galen into this.
You owe it to him.
He’s always protected you.
You need to do the same for him.
Lira fixed her eyes on the door and then back to the window, the Colossus unaware of the fact she was being watched, and slid off of the bed. The bed left a clear imprint of where she was lying, the outline of her shoulder and side clearly visible in the dirt smudges left behind. Galen’s subtle shift as his side was exposed to the air rather than Lyra’s warmth brought the teen to a standstill. He didn’t wake, leaving Lira conflicted, before she focused on her resolve and exited the room with the same quiet precision Galen had taught her when moving through the forest.
Her fingers began tingling as her heart fluttered and flipped, leaving a sense of nausea. Each step felt heavy, just like when she’d crossed that stage during The Choosing earlier that day.
Has it really only been a day? Lira wondered.
Her shoes scraped against the ground, the sound easily masked by the sound of quill against parchment. The moments passed in increasingly slow increments. Perception slowed. Thoughts sped up until questions and ideas blurred together until they were nothing more than a high pitched hum. Lira didn’t realize she was lingering by the door on the second-floor terrace watching Lady Serida until the Colossus paused her writing and turned her eyes to the house she’d gifted to the two humans. Her gaze quickly found Lira by the door and the Colossus offered a polite smile as she placed her quill back into a slot beside an inkwell that was as tall as Lira.
“Good evening. I’m assuming you slept well?” asked Lady Serida, positioning herself sideways in her seat at her desk to face Lira. It was such an unnerving feeling as the thought of the Colossus peering in through the window to spot them unconscious on the bed. Lira’s hesitation, however, prompted a follow-up statement. “I passed by and noticed you two through the window. Apologies. That must be a… novel… sensation for you two. Is Galen still asleep?”
Be strong, Lira.
For Galen.
Lira took the opportunity to step beyond the threshold of the entryway and approached their trunk tentatively, using it to sit before timidly nodding.
“Yes, m’lady,” Lira replied.
Serida’s brow raised. Surprised or impressed, Lira wasn’t sure. “And you’ve ventured onto the terrace without him? Why? To seek an audience with me?”
Lira’s heart hammered harder - louder. Her mouth was parched. The price for a clean glass of water couldn’t have been too high for the teen as she stared up into Serida’s face. Words failed her, leaving her with nodding as her only option. Again, a quirk of the brow left Lira unsure of what the Colossus was feeling.
“Really? I’m intrigued.” The woman sighed and leaned back in her seat, pose relaxing and mind obviously distracted momentarily. “Let me guess, you have questions? Why you? Why Galen? Why make a show at The Choosing?”
Lira nodded, stunned at the straightforwardness and also grateful she didn’t have to bring it up directly.
“Before I answer your questions, allow me to ask you a few of mine.” Serida laid her hands in her lap, one folded onto the other, and asked, “How long did you see it?”
Confusion crept over Lira. She shook her head and shifted awkwardly on the trunk she was sitting on. “S-see? See what?”
“You know what.” Serida’s cool, calculated tone was slow and deliberate. “The Choosing. How long did you know you and Galen were going to be chosen by me?” All at once, Lira felt like she had been doused in frigid water. Her eyes widened. She was sure she’d paled. The cold sensation poured over her, making her sit upright. What made it worse was that Lira’s reaction wasn’t lost on those piercing eyes of the Colossus, who smiled knowingly in that same way that made the teen feel uneasy.
She… know?
How?
How did she know?
Did she use her magic on me?
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, the simple motion taking all of her concentration to do, before Lira attempted to shake her head.
“I… I-I-I-I d-didn’t.”
“No? Because your reaction is telling me otherwise,” stated Serida. Lira’s core began to tremble. Like an avalanche, the nervous shake traveled up Lira’s spine and into her shoulders. She didn’t know if there would be repercussions for her attempt at deception. “You’re shaking. Scared?”
Salty tears burned at the corners of Lira’s eyes as the shaking allowed her control enough to nod.
“Of me? It’s natural, but unnecessary. I’m the least of your concerns - believe me. Care to tell me what you saw? Maybe elaborate on it a bit?” pried Serida. When Lira was unable to respond, Serida took the opportunity to continue. “You saw them, didn’t you? Monsters and beasts, all tearing through the rifts from their domain to yours. Flames engulfing your home, that sweet little cottage at the edge of the wood. My eyes meeting yours. The stars vanishing one by one in the sky, whispers trailing off as they beg you for help. Galen in one of their jaws being torn apa-...”
“Stop it!” Lira shrieked. Her hands were clasping her ears as tears gushed from her eyes. As each thing was listed, Lira could picture it as clearly as if it were before her. Hollow eyes. Bloodied claws. The gnashing of teeth. Burning flames and Galen’s cries for help, a man who, to Lira, had never shown weakness.
Silence enveloped them. All was quiet, save for Lira’s sobs. Minutes passed as, finally, Serida strained her ears to hear, “Stop… stop… please…” as Lira whimpered repeatedly. The child’s chest heaved as her futile attempts to calm herself finally proved successful.
“H-h-ho…”
“How did I know?” interrupted Serida. Lira watched as the Colossus woman leaned forward, her field of vision eclipsed entirely by Serida’s face, as she replied, “I didn’t know. I saw. I’ve seen the same things for quite some time. Now, the next question you’re going to ask is ‘how,’ right? How was I having the same dreams? More importantly, how were you having these dreams? It shouldn’t be possible, right?”
Lira felt her head swirling. Her insides churned. What little she had for breakfast was long gone, so hunger and sick began making her insides clench. It was a new kind of uneasy that settled over her, and Galen wasn’t here to help make sense of the world.
“Is… i-i-i-is it… real? W-what I saw?” Lira asked.
“Sometimes,” replied Lady Serida, the singular word resonating hollowly in the air. “Depends on a few things, naturally; however, I’m rarely wrong, and you and I have seen similarly.” Lira’s head hung limply as the Colossus’s words hung around her, clinging to her like forest burrs. “Do you know how it might be possible?” Lira shook her head numbly at Serida’s question. Her mind was occupied with more concerning things like her guardian and his safety.
Galen. I brought him into this. I kept this from him.
“I-I-I… I d-don’t kn-know. I d-don’t know-w how. I j-jus-st want…” The image of Galen’s panicked, terrified face as someone - some faceless Colossus - ground their teeth into his torso, blood spewing from his mouth, as the light left his eyes. Lira’s cheeks burned, but not from embarrassment - from determination.
All her life, Galen had done everything to protect her.
He’d taken her in when she had no one.
He taught her everything he knew.
Provided for her.
Teased like a brother and guided like a father as if she were his own.
She knew what she wanted - needed - to do.
“Just want… what?” Serida asked.
Lira felt the tears which were rolling down her cheeks slow as she stiffened her jaw and looked up into the piercing teal eyes of the second born of the Amdir with her own dark ones. It was a surprising moment for both parties, but Lira’s determined voice was able to clearly respond.
“I want to protect Galen, no matter what.” Lira pushed herself up off of the trunk and shakily advanced a few timid steps. It was such a surprise that even Serida leaned back away from the terrace as the teen stepped forward toward her. “Please… can you help me? I… I can’t lose him too.”
The Lady Serida considered the teen for several long moments before asking, “What would you be willing to do? To keep him safe.”
“Anything.” Serida had barely finished her question before Lira responded.
Something felt eerie about the way Serida smiled. There was a curious eagerness of a hungry mind obviously pressing its will onto the situation. Lira hated that look, but she meant what she said.
Anything.
“Very well. Then, when you’re ready, let’s get started.” Lira watched as the Amdir woman’s hand peeked over the edge of the terrace, an obvious invitation for Lira to accompany her. Lira began shaking again, each step generating a new level of fear she thought she’d never face again.
Galen fought against his own instincts to close his eyes as each Colossus passed through the arcane gate made of light, tearing the air to create a portal from Galen’s home to the place no human had returned to describe. His hand reached up and covered Lira’s eyes, not that it was needed. The child’s face was still buried in the leathers he wore. Sniffles and muffled apologies accompanied her consistent head shakes.
Galen was still at a loss for what had happened earlier. Not The Choosing.
Lira.
How did she guess they were going to be chosen?
How did she know what was going to be said?
How was she able to predict the words?
Was it a prediction? Or something else entirely?
Rennic curled in on himself as a kind of whimper escaped him. This young adult continued to struggle with coping through this as he buried his head in his hands, shoulders visibly shaking. Galen tore his eyes away from the young man, unable to find the words to console him. Instead, he turned his eyes to the light as it flared before them and watched his world vanish in a nebulous flash. His entire body tingled, as if falling from a great height. Warm and cold blended in his bones. A shudder seized him, and Lira flinched as the same undoubtedly happened to her. His wince was involuntary, but as the glimmering sparks dissipated from his eyes, Galen saw an entirely new land before him.
Through the gaps in the carrier they were in, Galen could see sprawling mountains mixed with pools of glittering water. These immense gorges stretched high into the sky and carved labyrinth-like paths out of the earth, only visible from this place high above the ground. The scents were sweet and fresh, but charged with something more - something Galen couldn’t explain. Waterfalls misted through the air, creating transparent prisms of light and color. Immense birds, large enough for a human to ride, soared overhead, diving down toward the surface of a lake that sparkled like morning dew on a spider’s web. Lira stirred against Galen and gasped as she peered at the world beyond their carrier.
“Galen,” she breathed, eyes filled with numerous, churning emotions.
“I know.” Galen reached up and scratched the back of his neck and followed his bearded jawline, index finger resting against his lips as his mind sifted through what he knew about locations he’d heard about and had seen. Ambient noise filled the space between the humans while staring out at the strange land before them.
Where in the world are we? Is this place in our world? Or is it theirs? wondered Galen. It wasn’t without reason. This place was stunning, unlike anything Galen had witnessed in his years of exploration, but little could be enjoyed at the moment as Rennic’s voice cut through the silence.
“What do you think they’ll do to us?” Rennic’s tone was foreboding. Ominous. Something Galen wanted to banish from his mind with every fiber of his being. The young man kept his eyes averted, turning away from the windows and the world they found themselves in. Galen gave the man a stern look, which held no sway over the following lines of questioning. “You’ve heard the stories, right? What the other Colossus families do to those they’ve chosen?”
“I’m not familiar.” It was a lie, and evidently an obvious one at the look of incredulity he received. He had heard stories — too many — about what certain giants did with their chosen. The Gurst tormented them through cruel trials. The Bael were rumored to gift their Chosen to the warriors who had performed well to do with what they pleased. The Tharn, allegedly, consumed theirs. And the Amdir… though they were known to be measured, merciful, and fair, some descendants were not innocent.
“Who will they be like?” pressed Rennic.
“They will be like the Amdir, measured and merciful. They have always been fair,” stated Galen.
“Fair? Taking us was fair?” spat Rennic bitterly.
“After letting the others return to their homes and families, yes,” countered Galen. “Nothing is free, boy; it just so happens that it was our turn to pay.” His mechanical leg bounced involuntarily, betraying his own nerves.
Rennic, seeing this, questioned further. “But why us? For years, they’ve selected their Chosen and given them back to their families. Why now? Why us?”
In a look only Galen would know, he noticed Lira’s eyes dart to him before turning back to the outdoors, hinting she was keeping something close.
More secrets. More questions.
“We’ll have the opportunity to ask sooner than later,” muttered Galen. “Fretting about it now and holding malice against them won’t serve you well. The Colossus have protected us for generations when there was no reason to. They’ve made countless sacrifices. We have no right to presume we are owed protection. Sulk and process as you see fit, but know asking questions now serves no purpose.”
“You’re saying you’re not afraid? For yourself? For her?” snapped Rennic, head snapping a gesture toward Lira at Galen’s side. Bristling, the child’s guardian sat up, jaw locked and eyes burning, which made Rennic shrink back into the teal and cream cushions. His leg no longer shook and rattled as an eerie still came over him. Sitting up and forward, he ensured Rennic was looking into his eyes before Galen uttered a word.
“My fear has no bearing on what I’m willing to do to protect her. I have to trust that the Amdir benevolence extends to the present. Pray that it does. They’ve saved my life and have stood sentinel for generations. There’s no reason to believe otherwise now,” growled Galen. Some part of his mind was completely committed, unable to bear malice or resentment toward those who had saved his life. Another much quieter part of his mind, however, possessed its doubts. What he understood of the Amdir had been thrown out the window. Yes, one of them had helped him so long ago; however, he’d also been taken.
Was this because of me? Is this because of… back then?
A debt they’ve come to collect?
Have I roped Lira into this?
Lira’s soft gasp garnered his attention immediately, gaze following hers as he spotted what she’d seen. Beyond the cliffs and along the edge of the gorge they’d been carried by was an immense lagoon, a mountain emerging from the waters and coarse sands came into view. Unlike the other cliffsides and ranges they’d passed by, this one glimmered with the windows and panels it was covered in.
It wasn’t a mountain - it was the Amdir home.
Unfathomably large trees clung to the rocks all the way up the mountainside jutting out and around the windows and arched doorways. Long, thin openings woven together and made of braided branches covered the surface and undoubtedly led further into the heart of the mountain. Banners of teal and cream blended with the flowers and leaves along balconies and buttresses that towered above the Colossus holding rock and stone at bay while shielding courtyards and open spaces.
Like a cathedral carved into the mountainside in the cities far to the east, the feeling of this place was regal and uncompromising. It was truly a place meant for giants, leaving Galen feeling smaller than he’d ever had in his life. The grand gates swung open with an audible friction as the stone doors parted ways for the Amdir family. Attending servants scurried underfoot at the arrival of the head of the Amdir, and the commotion put the humans in a state of unease.
Lira, who had stood to peer outside the secured window, was once again at Galen’s side. The carriage they were within was jostled as the guard holding them stepped to the side and placed them on a table at the center of the grand hall, a place that mirrored the grandeur of the exterior while keeping a cool air as this place resided in the mountainside. Galen’s chest felt compressed, air struggling to fill his lungs, while he watched the Amdir family pull over to the side, quiet words obviously being exchanged between them; and, undoubtedly, about them if those sideways glances had anything to say about it.
Galen, hoping to hear their whispers, stood and approached the open windows, straining his ears to hear something - anything - that might hint at their fates.
“-ing both of them was bold of you Serida, especially if you’re wrong,” stated Velmor softly.
“I’m not,” replied Serida, his daughter. “I know…” Her voice tapered off. “And you know the oth-…”
“We have no proof of that,” Velmor said, harsher so his voice carried clearly.
“Because they’re making sure it d-...” countered Velmor’s daughter, piercing eyes gleaming with the arcane. Uneasy silence settled among them before the father looked tiredly at his son.
“And you? With him?”
Eranth, arms folded, acknowledged his sister with a look before muttering something about “curious” among other things which Galen couldn’t discern. He might not have heard the words, but the furrowing of Velmor Amdir’s brow churned the man’s gut uneasily. Like the sensation of moving through that arcane door, a chill began filling Galen’s bones, heart beating quicker with each passing moment. He felt a chilled bead of sweat on his brow.
It did nothing to settle the churning in his gut as the father quietly excused himself and the children turned their attention to the container where all three humans waited with baited breath. In swift strides, they closed the distance, Serida arriving first, and flicked the latch on the exterior from closed to open. The way the metal clanged on the outside felt like the toll of a bell, signaling what was to come. Galen wasn’t even aware that he’d retreated from the door until his back hit the opposite wall.
The door, flooded with light, swung open, the silhouette of hands barely discernable just outside. Galen held his breath, waiting for the next move. Was this an experiment? See who was bold enough to venture out first? Or was it a test to see who would be obedient and remain until summoned?
Galen felt Lira’s gentle presence against his side, fingers snaking into the loops on his belt where he usually placed his leather packs and containers for herbs. It was instinct that brought his arm and cloak around her as his fingers clasped her left shoulder. The muffled whimpers of their fellow human was the only sound for several long minutes before the Amdir son, Eranth, spoke.
“Rennic, would you come out, please?” The timbre of the giant’s voice alluded to a genteel individual, but it did nothing to convince the human to depart from the perceived safety of the metal around them. One minute. Four.
“Eranth, I doubt he’ll come through gentle coaxing,” Serida stated quietly in a voice Galen was barely able to discern.
“As if your approach would be more successful,” Eranth hissed.
“Challenge accepted,” Serida retorted. Her voice, clear as a bell on a serene morning. “Galen. Lira. As Chosen, I invoke the right to summon your presence. Please disembark the vessel and fulfill the oaths of your forebearers.”
It wasn’t a spell. It wasn’t a command. Galen suspected that it would feel different and that there would be no choice to disobey. As he lived and breathed, nothing was forcing him to leave the carriage. Still, the force of presence in her voice compelled Galen to move forward. He looked down to Lira, whose eyes were locked onto the doorway, gaze distant.
We are going to be okay. We may have been taken, but nothing can be done about that now. What can be done is protecting Lira. Now isn’t the time for that conversation though. I don’t want to risk consequence so soon into this…
“We’ll be alright,” Galen reassured while hearing his own uncertainty in his voice. That first step with his mechanical leg felt like moving a mountain, weight keeping his foot firmly planted, until the mechanism scraped against the floor. Lira’s subtle tug away from the door nearly anchored him to the spot, but it was merely a rightful hesitation before she matched his pace step for step.
They passed over the threshold into the light, vision adjusting quickly to reveal the interior of the Amdir home. The same cascading archways they’d seen from the exterior induced a sense of vertigo on the interior. Everything in this place was meant for being far larger than themselves, and standing on a foyer table emphasized that point. Teal and cream banners clung to the ceiling and buttresses down branching hallways which Galen had no hope of navigating.
Give me a forest anyday.
Scanning the area, Galen found his vision drawn by the movement of the Colossus woman in front of them. His neck craned upward, jaw locking in place, when met with her piercing gaze.
Piercing… I’ve… heard that before… recently.
The smile Serida offered was polite, but cold. It was made in acknowledgement of power and courtesy rather than genuine joy. Galen wasn’t sure which one was more unnerving in his mind - joy or courtesy.
“Well then. There you are.” Her evaluative eyes locked on like some kind of predator as she concentrated on Galen, then to Lira where they lingered for several painful moments before flicking back to Galen. “Let’s handle formalities elsewhere. In the meantime,” Serida reached over and retrieved the chest that belonged to the pair of them before, casually, placing her hand flush with the edge of the table. “We should retire to my quarters.”
Galen, who had watched the hand’s shadow engulf them, felt his mouth dry as though filled with cotton. His heart was in his throat and his breath was somewhere between his mouth and lungs. Attempting to force a swallow was useless. Moving was even more futile. Palms suddenly sweaty. Knees threatened to knock together at any moment. There were only a few times in Galen’s life where his mortality seized him by the throat and pinned him against his will, and he’d lost his leg.
This was one of those times.
“Ah, I see,” Serida sighed. “Feeling in need of reassurance? Guarantee that you and your child won’t be harmed? I can only promise that you are under my protection while here and that any actions taken elsewhere places your fate into your own hands. Now, please get onto mine. We have things to discuss and I’m sure you have questions.”
Her tone bordered on flippant, but Galen heard her words and heard the truth in them. Using Lira as his grounding anchor, he squeezed her shoulder and ensured his cloak was still around her as he guided both of them to the edge of the table. The table fell away to reveal the floor far below, giving the illusion they were on a cliff’s edge. What was more unnerving was the number of details Galen was able to notice as they approached the Colossus’s hand.
A freckle on the edge by her pinkie finger.
Each and every crease and crevasse that constructed her prints.
The minute chip in the nail on the index finger as it involuntarily flexed with the other fingers that lay before them.
“Galen.” Lira’s small voice was barely above a whisper. Was she shaking? Or was Galen? Did she speak to reassure? Or to plead?
“I know.” He breathed in return as, bracing, he dared to take the first step. That breathless moment as his foot crested over the edge of the table and stepped down onto the pliable substance lingered, compounding second after second. It was pure instinct that led his mechanical limb out first, unwilling to sacrifice the remaining leg should things go awry. Stabilizing himself on the surface was like attempting to walk on the swollen moss fields to the south of their home. The surface was uneven, but also solid. It moved, yet feeling the substance beneath said there was something there giving it structure.
He guided his other leg down and secured his footing before assisting Lira, whose features were locked in a hard to read expression, which was saying something as Galen had learned her quirks like the back of his hand. Stepping cautiously to the center, he ignored the way the fingers curled upward and the jostle of the limb beneath them as it drew away from the solid surface of the table before Serida turned and took her first step away. It was surprising.
Practically gliding through the halls, Galen imagined being carried by a Colossus to be more unsteady, thinking they’d be thrown from their feet in an instant. A flashbulb memory filled his mind. Blood everywhere. Pain. Glowing eyes and the sensation of restraint followed by some uneven surface shifting beneath him. The words - a promise of return - never fulfilled as rescue came sooner than expected. Immense eyes and fragments of cloth wrapped around a stub filled with pain as he was cradled by something with a warmth of its own.
Perhaps… they’re more careful and aware than I gave them credit. They were careful before.
Rooms passed by in the blink of an eye. Galen fought the urge to vomit as nausea churned his stomach and to ensure he remembered every pathway and turn if the worst should present itself. One left. Long hallway. Right and right. Sigils on a tapestry that stretched from towering ceiling to floor, rippling over the wall like an immense waterfall which would be a good place to hide if need arose. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the glowing marks he couldn’t begin to understand. Questions formed.
How did they manage to get fabric to shimmer and shine like that?
Was it a product of their magic?
Why were they glowing?
Were they… moving?
A sudden left interrupted his train of thought as they entered one of the rooms whose doors were closed. Serida strode in with ease and shut the door behind her, turning the latch with a soft clicking sound, as she entered her room.
It was one of the rooms that faced the lagoon and the distant cliffs and mountains. Her quarters were bathed in a blue-green light that gave the sensation that the foliage was actively creeping into the room. Shelves of books inlaid into the walls of stone and were stuffed with parchments and books. An immense bed that easily would’ve covered Galen’s home village was set into the stone on the far side of the wall.
These things combined, however, did not unsettle Galen in the slightest, unlike the makeshift castle set up beside the desk. The imagery alone mirrored the home of the Colossus and the Amdir home, but scaled perfectly for a human to reside comfortably within it. It looked as though it belonged to toys - dolls - and Galen’s mind wandered to their purpose - why he and Lira were here.
She’s not thinking we’re… dolls… to be played with… is she? Surely not. She’s… too old for something like that, right? Or is this some kind of convenience? Someplace for us to live? Or merely a cage?
Galen couldn’t be sure, but Serida’s next words chilled him to the bone and tempted his imagination to do its worst.
hello! I’m a really big fan of your work, I’ve read all of your completed works, but I can’t find any of your incomplete works and I’d really like to read through them! Do you have a link or a masterlink? No pressure ofc, just wondering :]
Greetings and salutations my friend!
Apologies I'm only now seeing this. I haven't thought about putting an incomplete works list out there, but at this suggestion I shall certainly do so. I have to have a bit more time to do so, but consider it on my to-do list.
Which was your favorite work? I'm curious to know.
will there be another chapter of your story Working Title?
Greetings and salutations my friend,
Yes! I'm currently setting up a few things to have more time to write and create (fingers crossed). There are so many stories I am working with and simply lack the time to complete it. Stay tuned and I hope you enjoy what is to come in the meantime.
Feed your dashboard by answering my question, blogger.
Greetings and salutations my friend,
Scariest game? When it comes to jumpscares, it should be Alien: Isolation. The Xenomorph leaping out of the darkness at the drop of a hat is absolutely horrifying. When it comes to conceptually, hands down it has to be Little Nightmares (the first). It had such a new take on games, played into themes and tropes I enjoy writing about, and the visuals at every turn was mortifying.
