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?
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.
Galen couldn’t recall a time when he was completely and utterly terrified. Was it hearing that Amdir daughter declare her verdict to keep him and Lira? All in the name of proving that life wasn’t fair? That sacrifices must be made? Or was it before? When he heard Lira’s soft, prophetic words utter the verdict before hearing it from the Colossus? Could it have been when his name was first called? The disbelief sending him into shock and this being the final blow?
Galen didn’t remember his legs giving out on him, nor did he remember being helped to his feet, Lira curled at his side, silent as the cold misty mornings he treasured but would never experience again.
“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.”
No more.
The words were ones he’d heard somewhere once when he was a child and had taken them to heart. When lost, he would retreat to the woods. When in need of wisdom, he would venture into the comfort of the verdant walls. After he’d lost his leg, he found peace and purpose among the flowers and moss and herbs and mushrooms of the shade. When choosing to take Lisa in as his own, he’d brought her into the forest.
It was all gone.
His mind.
His home.
His soul.
All now belonged to the Colossus, who had provided selfless protection and gave him the opportunity to live such a life to find his purpose, his soul, in the first place. Everyone had to pay, and this time it was his turn; but why did it have to be Lira too?
“Galen!” His mind sluggishly registered his name as he, Lira, and the other man were guided to The Stone Yard to be prepared for departure. Their names would be carved in remembrance and where they would be given to the Colossus. The man focused as he heard his name again, louder and clearer now as they were quickly ushered through the crowd, which was slowly dispersing. “Galen!”
A familiar face emerged from the blending masses, revealing his good friend and the one who would be quick enough to assist Galen in this dire moment.
“Tibs!” Galen pushed to the side, testing the boundaries the marshals had set as he grasped his friend’s hand.
“Galen, I… I don’t have words,” Tibs managed as he walked beside them, the marshals giving him harsh looks as they attempted to maintain a clear boundary to prevent The Chosen from escaping into the crowd. The momentary thought that he’d never see his friend again was something he had seconds to dwell on as he hurriedly limped along to keep pace with the brisk marshal pace.
“Nor do I, friend, but we don’t have long.” Galen had half-heartedly packed their valuable belongings by the door, believing he and Lira would be home before lunch. It was part of The Choosing to pack whatever you deemed necessary the night before so that, if chosen, no time would be wasted in lengthy goodbyes, reminiscing over memories, and collecting unnecessary items. There were so many things he needed to be by the door for the marshals to collect that he couldn’t begin to list them all, instead settling on what was absolutely critical.
“Tibs, listen to me. All of the books above the sink - pack them. Put them into the trunk by the door as well as the kettle, all of the hanging herbs, and all the clothes and blankets you can muster. All of the brews belong to someone. Make sure they get there, okay? Swear it!” Galen heard the strain in his voice, but dared not clear it away. It might speed his friend along if he was being honest.
“Of course. Anything. What else?”
“Lira’s books in the loft. Don’t hit your head. And there are th-three massive jars of ground herbs. I need those, and my mortar and pestle.”
My life’s work. Will it even matter if I bring those things with us?
“I will. I’ll be back before you’re off. I swear!” Tibs tore his hand away and pushed through the crowd toward Galen’s home. It felt like fulfilling the wish of a dying man, but it didn’t matter to Galen. The forefront of his mind was preoccupied with muddling through the rapid sequence of events with no hope of truly processing them until they were already surrendered to the Colossus Amdir family. All sensation was numbed, like trying to see through murky water. Galen barely registered Lina at his side as she slowly cut off circulation to his fingers, grip constricting his forearm.
The path wound to the left and the right. It was a familiar track which Galen would take Lira on when they went into town. It was easier on his leg after a long day on his feet. Distant memories that only happened a few days before.
So much happening. Where do I even start?
The blur of motion that followed was staggering. Their names were inscribed in stone, living immortally among the other names of those Chosen by the other Colossus families. It was surreal, like looking at his own headstone alongside Lira. Words were spoken on their behalf about Galen’s services to the town as an apothecary and brew master as well as his generosity in taking in an orphan. They talked about Lira’s love of books and even slipped her a few texts she had wanted for her birthday which Galen had been saving for over the past months.
If they had any other family than who was present, they would’ve come to wish them farewell. Instead, they witnessed Rennic break down beside his brothers, all older, as they spat and huffed that it wasn’t fair and that it should be them and not their youngest brother. It wasn’t until they were pulling the brothers away from one another that Tibs returned, melancholy grin on his face.
Eagerly, he approached and hugged his friend. Galen leaned into it, some part of his mind registering that the normalcy of seeing others his size was going to be a rare thing.
How long will we even last among the Colossus? Galen shook the foreboding thought away and focused on his friend.
“Did you get everything?”
“And then some,” Tibs replied, carefully pulling off the pack Galen used to gather herbs and slipped it over Galen’s shoulder. “Managed to get some of your other little projects in there, so don’t jostle if you can help it.” Galen’s eyes stung as he stared at his neighbor and friend.
“Tibs, I… th-.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve helped more times than I can hope to count. I know what you’ve done for me and for this place. I don’t know who’ll dare to replace you,” Tibs feigned a grin, but both of them could see the jest fell short. Galen sighed and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Just… look after the place for me. Yeah? ‘Til we get back?”
Tibs managed a nod, avoiding the obvious out loud but clearly thinking it - they weren’t coming back.
“See you soon then,” Tibs stated.
“Same.” Galen extended his hand and shook firmly, clinging to the sense of normalcy it brought.
“And you, missy, look after the hobbler over here, okay?” said Tibs as Lira clutched the books to her chest.
“I will.” She sounded so small that Tibs had to ask her to repeat herself before he picked up on her response.
Just like that, the marshals led the others away and herded Galen, Lira, and Rennic up the path.
The path itself was one solid stone, enchanted to never age and to never break with the growth of plants beside it. A long, arching bridge that tapered off into another platform that could overlook the town and the fields beyond. If it weren’t so harsh on his leg after a long day in the forest or brewing, Galen liked bringing Lira up to the peak to look down at the land below. It was one of his favorite places in town because it seemed like a place one could simply leap off and begin to fly. It was easily forty feet in the air and was next to a cliffside overlooking the wilds below and beyond.
It was foreboding now. Ominous. A shadow overtaking a future he couldn’t begin to describe. Each clack and creak of his leg kept time, measuring the seconds they had left in their home. There was too much to take in. The smell of the breeze. The beams of light breaking through the clouds. The way the trees looked like mossy water running over creek stones.
Now, a metal box sat on the end of the platform he’d grown up on, a coffin for the living to be taken off to the land of the Colossus. Their belongings were already affixed to the back, and the Amdir family stood a short distance off, talking in hushed voices amongst themselves.
Lira’s tender fingers snaked in between Galen’s fingers, almost startling him as his mind was elsewhere. A once comforting motion that now belonged to someone Galen had a million questions for.
Not now.
Not here.
He curled his fingers around hers and kept his eyes locked onto the box, afraid that looking away would somehow destroy the nerve he’d worked up to maintain his composition. The marshals lined the outside, offering hollow words of comfort and thanks before holding the door open and ushering them inside the metal carrier.
One last look was all Galen allowed himself before ducking inside the carriage, sealing himself away for whatever fate had in store for them next. The interior, to his surprise, was far less ominous than he was anticipating. The exterior resembled a prison, a sentence where the occupants paid with their lives. The interior, however, was well cushioned with fabrics representing the Amdir household, which consisted of creams and teals. Sitting on them felt heavenly, as if he’d never truly rested before. If not for the circumstances, this momentary rest would have been pleasant for Galen. Lira also took a moment outside before scampering in and curling against Galen’s side, face pressed into the leathers he always wore.
Rennic attempted to resist, if only for a moment, before being shoved inside and the door locked firmly behind him. Rennic sulked in the corner of the carriage, visibly trembling as one of the Amdir guards approached the carriage and asked if The Chosen were prepared. Commands given. Salutes provided.
The immense jostle of being picked up inside of the carrier flipped Galen’s stomach, body chilling as if hit by a winter wind, as he spotted fingers cresting just barely over the edge of the carrier. The jostle of each footstep felt like being inside a thundercloud, rumbling from all around, as the guard approached the Amdir family all too soon. Their strange arcane words filled the air and, like how they’d arrived, a tear in the air appeared at the tips of their fingers as each individual stepped through. Those fateful words returned to Galen as they approached the gate, Lira tucked firmly against him.
“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.”
He could only hope now that it is what he would find on the other side.
The water, like the morning, was unforgivingly chilled as Galen splashed a few handfuls onto his face. It was the only surefire way he found to wake himself when he felt inclined to remain resting. Today, of all days, was one all subtly wanted to avoid, to pretend as though it were all just a dream. Each shadow presented silence as the light of day gave them their shapes.
Undoubtedly, other homes were experiencing this same silence, the same feeling that they wanted the day to pass like those shadows - in silence, forgotten until the next turn of the seasons. The tension was tangible. Every muffled sound felt like an avalanche.
Galen often lived in these quiet moments, able to move silently, even when Lira came to live with him all those years ago. It didn’t stop him from his work, and it didn’t keep him from preparing for the day.
It’s just like any other day, Galen told himself. You will go to the main square with all the others. Names will be called. Those called will go up. They’ll be called again, and then they’ll be allowed to return. One may be brought back, but I doubt it. It’s the Amdir family this year, and they don’t take us humans. Amdir giants don’t like long ceremonies either. They think it’s wasteful. We’ll be back before the kettle is done boiling.
The soft padding of feet told him Lira had come down from their loft. Her appearance was still disheveled, which was expected, but there was something else too that Galen noticed at a glance. Lira looked tired, faint darkness lining her eyes, and he wondered whether her nightmares or nerves for The Choosing were to blame. It wasn’t the first Choosing where Lira felt apprehensive, and she did seem a bit off these past few days. He’d asked her about her unease in years past, but the youth could only describe it as “a feeling.”
He elected not to pry. Galen knew Lira well enough to understand she’d come to him when she’d found the words. In the meantime, there were still herbs to grind and brews to complete, and so he continued his work as Lira poured herself a cup of tea. The teen curled in on herself as she wedged herself onto the window ledge, eyes cast to the forest.
“Galen?” her voice sounded small after nearly an hour of remaining completely motionless, eyes fixed on the trees through the window. “Is… there any way to skip The Choosing today?”
The question took him off-guard. “Pardon?”
“Skip? You know? Feign illness or something?” Lira brought the chilled cup to her lips, the only heat remaining coming from her hands clasped around the edge. She was still refusing to meet his gaze.
Galen thought for a moment about what Lira was actually asking, eyes skeptical. “Does this have to do with your dreams recently?” The teen’s silence felt like confirmation enough. He stepped up to the counter beside the window and continued his work, glancing at her every few spins of his pestle against the mortar. “To answer your question, no. There’s nothing that can be done. Attendance is mandatory, but there’s nothing to worry about. Today is like any other day.”
The subtle scrench of Lira’s brow and how she averted her eyes meant she was avoiding something. It felt like the air was tense around her, as if she was radiating a chill from her body. Galen reached out and grasped her shoulder and nearly drew back as he felt how cold Lira was to the touch through the callouses on his fingers. Concern crept over him. He instinctively reached for a blanket, but paused mid-step as the toll of the hollow bells radiated from the town square.
It was a call.
A summoning.
He turned back to his ward and, in that fraction of a moment, saw fear in Lira’s eyes.
Upper lip stiffened and jaw locked, Galen approached Lira and knelt, the mechanical knee catching on the way down and striking the ground with a hollow *clunk*. His hands found hers and a smile turned up the sides of his lips. She met his eyes for the first time that entire morning and, like the sun to snow, the chill began fading from her body, giving way to the warmth of his hands and his smile. Galen could feel a distinct difference in the youth.
“Lira, I promise everything is going to be fine. Okay? I swear it. And if anything should happen, I’ll protect you. Nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m around. Believe me?”
Lira nodded timidly, almost with uncertainty, as she echoed the words from the night before. “Yes, always.”
Pulling on clothes fitting the chill in the air, both Lira and Galen stepped outside as the shadows of their neighbors began to pass in front of their door. The air, tense with somberness, was only disturbed by the movement of the passing people. All wore travelers' cloaks and even possessed packs hiding on their shoulders, undoubtedly fearing the worst and hoping for the best. Galen wondered if he should’ve done the same, but banished the thought as soon as it arose.
We’ll be back soon enough.
Lira’s fingers clasped around his while keeping pace, a silent shadow observing the others around her. His leg, aching from exertion the day before, further pronounced his limp as he walked beside friends and neighbors, many of them with hollow or worried faces. Tibs and only a handful of others appeared unbothered by the events set before them.
The masses followed along the road leading from dirt to cobblestone streets, the homes now constructed of rock and stone, brick and mortar rather than wood and clay chinking the gaps. Galen paused only for a moment before the ground continued to slope to cast his view on the town. He could see fragments of the lake and the way it seamlessly accepted the forest by its banks. He watched the smoke peter out as fires were extinguished or left to fizzle and fade in preparation for The Choosing.
All around, whispers of years past filled the air like a morning fog, light and obscuring, bringing with it a sense of unease. Rumors of the families who took humans in the past lingered like a foul odor. Fear and unease were tangible. Parents held their children close. Old and young were ushered into the main square, but all eyes, regardless of age and clarity, remained transfixed on the field where the Colossus would appear. Approaching now, Galen had to admit that something did feel off in the air.
Charged.
Uneasy, more than he’d experienced in years prior.
Galen felt Lira’s hand grasping his with a vice-like strength, a subtle tremble threatening to shake his arm too. He squeezed gently and caught her eye as he leaned forward. Wordlessly, he smiled and her anxious features softened, but only for a moment. He wanted to reassure her further. Tell her everything would be okay. That they’d be home before the kettle cooled by the fire.
But the wind changed.
As if the earth itself was breathing in, air began to pull inward toward the field. It was a subtle draw like a coastal tide pushing and pulling the water around it. Tense. Charged. The wind sprung to life as it coalesced, swirling and sparking as the harnessed arcane energy pulled apart the air as easily as splitting the seam on a torn cloth. The air opened and crackled at the edges, swirling with a nebulous cloud around it. The seam that split stretched to the sky, grazing clouds from the perspective of all those below, and from that seam figures began to emerge.
Immense and human-like in their own appearance, the Colossus materialized before the gathering crowd. One. Two. Five. Seven figures stepped out of the arcane cloud as the sigils of magic began to fade, closing the tear they had created to arrive in Galen’s home town. Seeing them in their refined robes that glistened like silver and streaks of lightning was surreal, but not as much as seeing how many were in attendance on this day.
Seven.
The most I’ve seen is four, and that’s been years ago. Galen felt the crowd pressing in from behind him and so moved with the crowd, though suddenly feeling an odd reluctance in his own feet. He wasn’t sure if it was feeling Lira’s apprehension or the number of Colossus in attendance for today’s Choosing, but something odd settled in his stomach that was heavy and cold like a stone from the creek in the woods, making him wonder if this was the same unease that Lira was feeling.
The authorities and other peace keepers lined the streets, all hoping to keep the peace but knowing that this position of power held no sway over who would be called for presentation. Finally in position, Galen readjusted onto his unaching leg, the opportunity to clearly see the Colossus in attendance.
They could’ve passed for immense statues, easily fifty feet or more tall, except for the subtle turns of their head and the flicks of their eyes across the faces of the crowd. Four, obviously, were part of the guard. Most likely vassal house members summoned for protection, as if the Colossus needed additional protection for a ceremony among humans. Their helms gleamed in the overcast light and their weapons, short swords on their sides and a spear in their hand, shield affixed to their forearms, presented a more formal entourage than in years past.
Something’s different. Galen looked to the three robed individuals and recognized the older Colossus man as the head of the Amdir family, Velmor Amdir. The creases on his face looked carefully etched, each placed for a reason or purpose. Silver lined his pulled back hair along his ears and the crown of his head, though elements of his hair still clung to the blond-brown it once was. Galen had seen him in previous Choosing ceremonies when it was the Amdir family’s turn, though this commanding, quiet giant seemed to have a strange air about him which unsettled the man.
The other two, at least in Galen’s eyes, were clearly related to Velmor Amdir. They shared his blond-brown hair, almond shaped eyes, and set jaw. Each stood at his side like senteries, wordless and calculating, and further bolstered the sensation that something was different about today. The one guessed to be the elder of the two, a son, was on Velmor’s right while the younger, a daughter, was to his left. Both close in age and looked to be in their early to mid-twenties if Galen were to guess. Something about the daughter’s eyes, however, felt more penetrative than pensive like her father.
Without word or gesture, the crowd was brought to silence and the head of the Amdir house spoke, voice gentle but resounding like distant thunder.
“People of the valley. I am Velmor Amdir, High Lord of the House Amdir, First Seat of the Mountain Council, Warden of the High Holds, and the Unbroken Stone-Oath. Greetings. Salutations to all those in attendance with us today.” He and his children bowed, and the crowd responded in kind. A pause subtly acknowledged the fact that The Choosing was a mandatory event while also expressing gratitude for their submissive attendance. A statement allowing recognition of sentience and free will as well as the reason why subservience was preferred, even with the inherent risks of The Choosing. He straightened to his full height once more and continued the ceremony.
Lira flinched as she listened to the words, prompting her guardian to draw her closer.
“Don’t listen to the sound—listen to the meaning. The Colossus speak loud, but that doesn’t make them cruel.” She nodded, but her small fingers dug into his sleeve. Their attention was pulled once more to the High Lord of the House Amdir.
“Generations ago from afar, using our arcane eyes, we saw your people were being ravaged by beasts unfitting this land and took it upon ourselves to keep such creatures at bay. Guardians. Warriors. Mages. Saviors. Names generations before have given us. In gratitude, your predecessors instated The Choosing, an offering of payment with the lives that were saved so many years ago. Our lives for yours and a favor returned in kind. You’ve been gathered here today, as tradition dictates, for The Choosing, where a select few will be called for, seen, and brought forth for us to decide your fates. The sanctity and fairness of this ceremony symbolizes how, at any moment, everything can be lost, but in that everything can be gained.
“Marshals, do you have the names of those selected?”
“We do, Lord Amdir,” replied the head marshal, Brun. In his clearest voice, he stepped up onto the platform and unfurled the scroll, breaking the seal of the town council. “Would the following individuals please step forward and walk across the platform and stand to the side of the platform once you cross.”
All held their breath as the first names were called.
Tomas from Brakenford.
Elin from Southmere.
Kessa from Briarwatch.
Hadrin from Brakenford.
Orric from the High Barrows.
Name after name, person after person, each made their way through the crowd and maneuvered to the stage where they walked across when the marshals signaled to do so. Two marshals had to escort themselves across the platform as did one of the council members, another sign all were subject to The Choosing.
Galen began to feel the tension easing in his shoulders as the names were beginning to come to an end when he heard it.
“Galen of North Hollow.”
The blood in his veins froze, locking him stiff into position. He felt the eyes of his friends and neighbors turn to him, isolating him as they distanced themselves from him; all except Lira, who clung to his side harder. Disbelief numbed him. A tremble started in his core. Sound was distant until Lira’s voice broke through the feeling of freefall seizing Galen. It was a strangled, desperate sound as her knees buckled.
“Galen! No!”
Panic began to set in. Instinctively, Galen grasped Lira’s shoulder a little tighter and pulled her close before fumbling for her other shoulder to spin her to face him. He caught his paling features in the reflection of her eyes, something he hated to see as he recognized his own fear staring back at him. The guardian forced a smile he couldn’t feel as he caught Lira’s eyes.
“Lira, shhh. Sshhhh… it’s okay. It’s all right. Listen to me.” Tears were streaming down Lira’s cheeks, eyes unable to contain their emotion. She was shaking her head over repeatedly as if she could change the name by doing so.
“Y-you said… you said th-they wouldn’t c-call you,” she choked out. “You s-s-said…”
“I know,” Galen interrupted. Other names were still being called out from the platform. Galen could see two marshals approaching where others had parted, revealing him kneeling down in front of his ward desperately trying to calm her. His eyes flicked to anyone nearby who may take up the mantle to help him, but none came. Gazes quickly averted in an effort to distance themselves, as if simply looking at him would have their names be called next. Galen forced Lira to look at him as his hands and voice shook, smile still etched on his face. “Lira, it’s going to be okay. I just have to walk across th-”
“Lira of North Hollow.”
Time kept them suspended, each holding the other’s gaze as the information processed in real time.
Both.
Both of them had been called.
And now the marshals were at their sides, hands gently touching their shoulders and guiding them to the platform with the others. Galen’s heart shattered. Head bowed in momentary defeat, Galen’s knee squeaked harshly and he had to catch himself to keep from collapsing completely. Words - one of Galen’s talents - failed to form anything meaningful as the two of them were guided toward the wooden platform. Thought, like mist, came and went in swirls, obfuscating the path to something meaningful to say or do.
At the base of the platform, which seemed immense and towering like the Colossus themselves, Galen forced aside his disbelief and sent the prayer he had in his mind out for Lira to hear.
“Lira, we will be fine. We just have to walk across the platform. It doesn’t mean they’ve chosen us. They won’t. Stay close to me, and don’t look at them. We’ll cross together. Okay?” reassured Galen. They ascended the stairs, reaching platform after platform until practically flush with the rooftops. The marshals looked at the pair sympathetically as they gestured for Galen and Lira to cross.
“Stay close to me,” he hissed, grasping Lira’s shoulder. He looked out across the platform, the end almost extending far beyond what was possible, while his heart hammered with increasing intensity.
Exaggerate your steps. Make your limp obvious. They won’t want a cripple with a young child. Galen coached himself silently. He allowed himself one measured inhalation before daring that first heavy step. His mechanical leg clacked loudly at his command as he exaggerated each step, pulling Lira beside him. Perhaps it was the adrenaline or the fact he’d never been up here before, but Galen’s eyes, already keen, seemed enhanced in this moment.
The recently stained wood and replaced boards to honor the Colossus and the ceremony.
The terrified, silent faces of the others who were selected for The Choosing on the other side of the platform.
Some strange, fresh carvings in the wood which Galen hadn’t noticed until now, not that he’d ever had reason to ascend the platform of The Choosing before this moment.
Cloak draped over himself and her, the two of them paused on the halfway point just for a moment before hurriedly scampering off toward the others, who seemed to total fifty in all. That impossibly long distance stretched far beyond what was possible until, finally, they reached the end with the others. Lira, saying nothing, curled immediately into Galen’s side, arms wrapped firmly around his midsection.
Only now did Galen, heart still racing, dare to sneak a glance up toward the Colossus, which filled him with instant regret as his eyes met the Amdir daughter’s gaze. It was hypnotic and unnerving having such immense eyes focus on him. Was it coincidence? Or purposeful? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. It felt shameful, but Galen quickly averted his stare to the remaining five who were crossing the platform.
Why am I afraid? There are others. This is part of the process - The Choosing. The first humans considered it an honor. Why am I afraid? These are the Amdir! They don’t keep the humans they select in The Choosing.
Galen listened to the others as they prayed or muttered their thanks or dreads into the air before them. The whispering white noise was eerie, but not as much as Lira’s mutters which Galen only heard as the marshals approached the selected to read off the official names of The Chosen.
“This can’t be… it’s not possible.” Lira’s panic was evident as she gazed up at him, but there was something more. “Galen… I… I have to tell you something.”
“Those selected for The Choosing, if your name is called, you have been Chosen. When that happens, please step forward and move to the center of the platform,” called the head marshal.
Galen’s focus, torn, switched from the marshals to Lira. “What is it? Lira, we’re going t-.”
“To be chosen. We’re going to be chosen.” Lira’s interruption raised the hair on the back of Galen’s neck, but he attempted to shrug off the feeling.
“Lira, you don’t know that. W-.”
“But I… I do,” Lira whimpered. “Galen, I… I want you to believe me. I need you to. Please! We need to leave.” He hated seeing such panic in Lira. Flashes of her tormented by her nightmares filled Galen’s mind. But what could he do? She looked scared. Not just scared - terrified, as if the monsters in her dreams were looming over them.
Are they?
“Nalia from North Hollow. Tomas from Brackenford. Orric from the High Barrows. Rennic from Westbarrow. Selena from the High Barrows. Galen of North Hollow. Lira of North Hollow.”
Galen’s mouth parched instantaneously as his name was called, but it didn’t compare to the sinking in his gut as he heard the name of his ward after his own. More than that - disbelief. How did Lira know? Did she know? Or was it her own apprehension that accidentally predicted this moment. Galen had no time to ask as he and the others were ushered onto the main stage. In years prior, Galen had always felt his heart go out to the people on the podium whose names were called for The Choosing.
He hoped their hearts were with him and Lira now.
They don’t keep humans. The Amdir don’t keep humans. Someone’s name needed to be called and it was just our turn. They won’t keep us. They won’t. No matter what, I’m staying with Lira. If… if I’m chosen…
No.
I won’t be.
We won’t be.
“Galen?” He looked down at Lira’s tear streaked cheeks. “I’m sorry. I… I d-didn’t think it…”
“People of the valley. You stand in the shadow of your past and in the traditions born from it.” Lira flinched at the gentle, thunderous voice of Velmor Amdir which broke the silence looming over the crowd. The Colossus’s eyes drifted across the masses gathered and then fell to the seven who stood on the podium in front of them. “For generations, the Amdir have taken only what necessity demanded. We have never destroyed without cause. We have honored life, holding it in the highest regards. These traditions remain because of our code and our promise - to protect and guard your people - and so The Choosing has endured.”
Velmor looked to the three humans standing just beside Galen and Lira, making eye-contact deliberately before continuing. “Of those selected for The Choosing, know you are here because I hold to the tradition of my forefathers. Nalia from North Hollow. Tomas from Brackenford. Orric from the High Barrows. You three were selected by me, and by me you are returned to your homes and families, for payment is not required for fairness and good deeds. A good deed done in search of reward is motivated by selfishness, and I refuse to stoop to such levels.”
Nalia, Tomas, and Orric were guided back to the others as they wept and thanked the Colossus for their mercy. Now only Rennic, Selena, Galen, and Lira stood on the platform which was quickly vacating. Galen swallowed hard as he felt Lira’s hands clutching his own as if he were some kind of lifeline keeping her from drifting out to sea; not that he felt like the strong anchor he always tried to be.
The unease and how quickly the numbers dwindled gave a haunting realism to Lira’s words. Was it possible that the Amdir family would actually keep the four of them? Surely not. They would be returned just as the other three had been.
Please. Show mercy. Let Lira go if no one else.
Then the son, standing to his father’s right, spoke. His timbre mimicked that of his father, though softer and simultaneously more calculating than what Galen would have guessed for the young Colossus man.
“People of the valley. I am Eranth Amdir, Heir of House Amdir, Keeper of the Amdir Banners, The Young Hammer, and Hand of the Stonefathers. This is my first attendance to The Choosing, and I am honored to stand before you in hopes of one day taking up the mantle,” he began, glancing briefly at the four remaining humans before directing his attention back to the gathered masses. “The Amdir have been fair through years of service, though I feel compelled to address that fairness is not the same as softness - weakness. Perceptions of weakness lead to decay and can lead to the breakdown of our societies. As a strong house among the Colossus, it is my belief that mercy and strength go hand in hand.”
Eranth pointed to the older woman standing beside Galen, a column-like finger stretching out and nearly casting the platform in shadow. She trembled and clasped her hands, which only hinted at her middle age. “I return you, Selena from the High Barrows, to your family.” He pointed to the man, who Galen thought might’ve been about Eranth’s age. “Rennic from Westbarrow, I conscript you into service for the Amdir family, where you will assist and serve until dismissed.”
Shaken, Galen heard an inhuman cry erupt from Rennic as he collapsed to his knees, head cradled in his hands. The marshals were at his side in an instant like shadows, each muttering their apologies and astonished remarks as they both comforted their fellow human and lifted him to the other side of the platform to be prepared for departure. Murmurs of surprise and unease rippled through the crowd as well, creating a swell of noise that ended with all eyes on Galen and his ward.
It felt unprecedented, and yet all had seen this happen in previous Choosings. The shock undoubtedly came from the mere fact that an Amdir, for the first time in generations, had elected to take someone who was chosen. Other families had done this regularly, but only now did something feel different.
Galen heard Lira’s words once more.
We’re going to be chosen.
Galen? I’m sorry. I… I d-didn’t think it…
What didn’t she think?
Why was she crying?
Fear alone?
Or something else.
As Galen waited with baited breath, he heard something that sent a chill up his spine, but it wasn’t from the Colossus Amdir daughter standing in front of him.
It was Lira.
“People of the valley. I am Serida Amdir, Second-Born of the House Amdir, Lady of the Line, Keeper of the Fourth Hall, Speaker for the Rites, Arcanist of the Unmeasured, and Witness of the Folk.” The words spilled out of the teen in a hushed whisper that only Galen could discern, but he heard every word nonetheless. His heart rate quickened, unclear as to where this was coming from and unable to read Lira’s features as she kept her head down, eyes locked onto the carved sigils Galen had noticed when they first crossed the platform. It wasn’t unsettling to him. Lira had an active imagination and was able to remember things she’d heard after only a single time.
What unnerved him was hearing the Amdir daughter speak the same words moments later.
“People of the valley. I am Serida Amdir, Second-Born of the House Amdir, Lady of the Line, Keeper of the Fourth Hall, Speaker for the Rites, Arcanist of the Unmeasured, and Witness of the Folk.”
The tone and inflection was identical, leaving Galen speechless. Lira continued to shake like a leaf, gaze averted, as she continued to speak softly, mirroring word for word what Serida said as she addressed the crowd.
“This too is my first Choosing, and such a ceremony is indeed an honor to witness, let alone participate in. It is a humbling position and knowing the power of a name truly shows us how vast this world and the others are. I acknowledge my father’s reminder: the house of Amdir has shown fairness, restraint, and mercy. We are a strong house among the Colossus and must serve as an example to the other houses. I also acknowledge my brother’s sentiments: complacency and weakness are not acceptable when such dangerous foes are constantly testing our boundaries.”
It was an eerie echo as Serida and Lira spoke in tandem, Galen’s ward only speaking loud enough for him to hear as Serida addressed the gathered crowd. Nausea churned his insides as the man looked disbelievingly from his ward to the Colossus standing in front of them.
How is she doing this? They’re talking in tandem! How does she know what the Lady Serida is going to say?
“But…”
“But…”
“Life is not fair.”
“Life is not fair,” stated the Amdir daughter just after Lira whispered the words. Galen forced himself to appear calm as his insides flipped within him.
“Lira, how are you doing that?” he breathed, words which seemed to make Lira shrink into herself and silence any further echo.
“Sacrifice is necessary to protect and provide for others. We have all made sacrifices, some with their lives and others with their means and abilities. For reasons that are my own, I conscript Galen of North Hollow and Lira of North Hollow in my service and the service of the Amdir family where you will assist and serve until dismissed.”
The world seemed to tilt. Galen’s legs nearly buckled as Lysa collapsed fully into him, sobbing uncontrollably. “No—no—no!” she cried, her voice cracking. The distinct murmur of surprise rippled throughout the crowd, hints of disapproval and worry in their voices.
“Who’s going to run the shop?”
“First year and the children are taking three? It’s not a sign of things to come, is it?”
“Poor girl. Off to serve the Colossus.”
“They usually don’t take one so young. Galen, maybe; but little Lira?”
Any thought, hope, or prayer Galen had of this being some shared nightmare vaporized as did his desire for someone - anyone - to intervene and prevent their departure. Questions muddled his mind. The surreal moments had stitched together forming the tapestry of what was to come.
“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. ”
I know I'm no artist, but figured our Borrower friend from A Borrower's Bestiary, Garrick, might not be either. This is another imagined snippet of his notebook and what he writes in order to keep track of the "creepy-tids".
