Three days later as Alfar reached the crest of small hill he caught sight of Elderbrook. Encased in a small wooden wall a few dozen houses could be seen from the hill. The early day sun illuminated the brook as it passed under the wall next to a small gate barely big enough to fit a cart through. The village sat surrounded by rolling hills with the largest of these hills completely surrounded by the wall. The top of the hill supported a large stone watchtower with a large bronze bell hanging in it. The tower overlooked several fields of crop, and pastures of cows and sheep, that surrounded the village. A feeling of nostalgia filled Alfar as he could see his family house, a small wooden house with a thatch roof. However, Alfar saw a sight that filled him with more joy than that house ever could. A single guard stood at the gate, holding a small spear barely taller than herself. The only defense afforded to her was a leather chest piece, which was a little too big.
The guard smiled and waved to him and it was at that moment in which her brunette hair shown in the midday sun. Dropping the spear, Deirdre ran to Alfar with open arms. Embracing each other, Alfar and Deirdre finally felt at home after what felt to them like the longest three days of their life.
“So, tell me,” Deirdre poised, “What did you see?” Alfar having thought on the topic for days responded, “I saw us getting married and growing old together with a few little ones of our own.” The embrace tightened as she looked to him with greedy eyes. “What about our house? Did we have a mansion?” Alfar unable to control himself let out a chuckle and replied, “I only saw the porch but it looked to be a respectable house.” Grabbing his hand Deirdre led Alfar towards the village, “You’re not joking right? I sat in front of that statue for a whole day and it sat motionless as the earth.” As the couple walked past a boy roughly their age waved them past as he leaned against the inside of the gateway.
Tòmas, a lifelong friend of Alfar, had drawn the short straw when it came to guard duty. This led to him spending his entire morning with the excited Deirdre whose greatest pleasure had been to subject him to hours of talk about a man he’d known his entire life. Finally, Tòmas would be able to take a quick nap without having to worry.
Inside the village a collection of dirt roads sprawled out seemingly at random. A few oak trees stood scattered around the houses. To the left the land sloped down to the brook while to the right it sloped up towards the tower. A small damn turned the brook into a pond halfway through its journey across the village. As the water pass through the dam, it turned a waterwheel attached to a small mill with a granary.
As Alfar passed through the town, everyone smiled and waved to him. The occasional grinding of the water wheel as well as the chatter of townsfolk put Alfar’s heart at ease. “Hold on I have to grab something,” Deirdre exclaimed as they reached a small one-story house with a wooden placard that had “Etsan” etched into it. As she disappeared into the house, he saw another familiar face in the distance. A man wearing a heavy woolen brown coat hurried from house to house. His long white beard dragging along the ground, more than making up for his lack of hair on top of his head. His walking was aided by a staff a little taller than him, with a crystal about the size of his thumb, that glowed green at the top. Elder Topapa was the oldest man in the village and he had been a healer for longer than Alfar had been alive. Though only slightly Topapa was the only person in the village who could use magic. He had a huge library in his house full of old books on every topic. Alfar had fond memories of listening to the elder’s many stories but he had never liked them as much as Lachlann. Only a few steps behind the elder, Lachlann made the perfect apprentice always studious and hardworking. Despite his squirrelly frame he had a fiery passion for knowledge that complimented his bright red hair.
Deirdre exited the house with a small wicker basket practically skipping with excitement. “I picked a beautiful spot just outside town and I thought maybe we could …” Deirdre paused attempting to entice Alfar, “have a picnic.” Staring directly in her eyes Alfar cooed, “So, I get to enjoy you, and your famous cooking all at once.” Leaning in Alfar agreed to picnic by gently kissing her on the lips. “Come on you’ll love this spot.”
With a hurried pace they traveled through the gate opposite of the one he had entered through. Then across the part of the brook where as a child he and his friends had gotten into water fights during the hot summers. Across a few small hills covered sparsely in sheep, they entered a forest with thick trees covered in moss with the occasional vine. In a dense part of the forest a tree branched far to one side forcing all the other foliage away. A brown wool blanket lay on the ground shaded by the tree. Honestly, Alfar loved the effort that Deirdre had gone through no matter the spot she had found.
Together they started with a small dish of mutton and moved on to a potato gratin side. The desert that she had prepared for them was a collection of apple and pear slices. Alfar greedily consumed as much as he could since Deirdre’s cooking was one of the many things he loved about her. Together they whittled away several hours just talking and laughing about the events of their time apart.
“You will never believe what happened while you were gone,” Deirdre started to spin her tale,” Tòmas went to visit Ciaran in the woods and somehow managed to get lost, only Lykos could figure out how, but of course he was saved by the fact that the day prior in the inn, Ciaran had happed to show up for a casual pint with Lachlann who had mentioned Tòmas’ plan to visit him for what was explained as “insect arena”.” Deirdre made an attempt at miming two insects fighting each other. From Alfar’s point of view this display was more akin to a child trying to explain a complex topic. “So, having a noticeable lack of Tòmas in his house, Ciaran goes out looking and happens upon the combination of Tòmas and a beehive. You can probably guess what happened next but those two somehow, through some miracle of the creators, managed to get the hive without getting stung. And thinking for about only a moment those two wonders of nature ran to town to pay a visit to the inn. Now you know Samuel he’s an astute businessman whose only real passion is for his mead. Knowing this Tòmas enters alone and tells Samuel he has the freshest honey in the entire Grey Hills. Samuel replies back with a refusal to do business until he sees the product. Upon hearing this Tòmas shouts “Show the man his honey!”” Deirdre plays out the scene attempting to mimic each person’s voice. “Oh no they didn’t,” Alfar interjected. “Oh but they did. Ciaran walked right into the room with the hive in a box and smashed it and both of them ran. The best part though is Samuel ran after them all the way to the woods.”
“Wait but what about the bees?”
“He abandoned them along with his clientele he’s always worried about pleasing.” Alfar couldn’t keep himself from laughing at this bizarre circumstance. “Hold on, these two masterminds decided that upon finding and capturing a beehive that the best thing to do was to break it where one of them eats regularly.”
“Well the elders made them both cleanup the inn and pay a fine not to mention Tòmas’ father gave him an earful that could be heard all over the town, stuff like “You’re a man now.”, “This kind of thing is simply not down by men of this town.” “Someday you’ll look back on your life and cry about what a fool you’ve been.”” Deirdre tried to her best to mimic the gruff voice of a stern father but fell quite short. “”One day misfortune will come your way and there will be nary a tear for miles for all the enemies you’ve made with your braggery and mockery.” Honestly that one I felt was a bit harsh even for someone as lost as Tòmas.”
“Maybe that old codger will finally kick him out and he’ll have to learn some trade that doesn’t involve tricking fools out of their money,” Alfar laughed at the thought of his friend finally learning a lesson.
“Or he’d just move hoping to actually find someone more foolish than him so his tricks can end peacefully for once.” Deirdre countered finishing the last slice of pear. As Alfar got ready to reply he heard a rustling of bushes almost like a wounded animal crashing through the bushes. Both of them quickly turned to the source of the sound, a bush next to the tree that they were sitting under. A small creature slowly rose from the flattened bush. Standing only half the height of an adult man, with a posture only possible if both its’ legs and its’ arms were inconsistent lengths, stood a humanoid creature with sickly green skin with patches of bright green scales. It’s skin in addition to the scales had what appeared to be little green grass leaves instead of hair. Its’ limbs were all thin seemingly lacking in enough muscle to even reliably hold itself up. Long frog like fingers protruded from its’ hands. The head was possibly the worst part as it sat atop the curved body beneath. The creature’s nose like that of a hawk's beak curved sharply and abruptly to the earth after being much longer than it had any right to be. The eyes like a lizard’s looking in different directions but they almost seemed incapable of sitting still. The ears were like that of a human who had lived well past its’ prime. It wore a jagged grin with teeth like crooked knives interlocking at random. The hair was a bizarre crimson color but far more bizarre was instead of hair it was a mess of thin root like tendrils that upon close inspection seemed to wriggle ever so slightly. Parting the hair was two horns that looked like a young buck's antlers that had been rotated so the points branched backwards instead of out.
The creature turned slowly towards them as it finished standing up. Looking at both of them straight in the eyes, a long dexterous tongue ran across its’ crooked delirious smile. There was a small puncture wound on its’ side that it held onto fiercely. As both eyes rested upon the frozen Alfar for only a second, the wounded beast let out a horrendous cry like some vile mix of a wounded beast’s final call and a predator’s excited roar.
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