Cobbler’s Hold was sick. Nuncio could feel the disease in the air. It was like some animal had crawled between the floorboards and died there. Now the stench of rot was everywhere. After a restless night full of dreams of white faces, people would wake up but be too tired to get out of bed. The few who managed to pull open the curtains would scream at the sight of the sun and hide in the dark.

When Nuncio went to buy groceries, it felt like he was the only person there, but it no longer made him feel playful. People would peek out between the curtains when he passed by and glared at him with suspicion… or worse. Hunger.

Some talked about the plague coming to Cobbler’s Hold and the doctor had told people to stay inside while he tried to get to the bottom of it. Then he had fallen sick too. Nuncio was the only one who knew who had brought the sickness to his village but… what good was the truth when no one would listen?

When Nuncio got home, he started making vegetable soup and when it was ready, he carried a bowl to his mother’s room. The curtains had been drawn and mom was hiding under the blankets.

“Mom?”

Mom looked at him from under the blanket with her bloodshot eyes and smiled when she saw the soup.

“… for me? When did you get so handy in the kitchen?”

Seeing mom eat the soup was a relief and she was able to drain most of it before setting the bowl aside.

“… thank you, Nuncio.”

Nuncio didn’t answer and bit his lip.

“… Nuncio?”

“Mom… we need to get you to a doctor.”

“… the doctor is… sick. I just need to… sleep this off.”

“We can go to a neighbor village. If you just…”

“No!” Mom growled with a voice that was not hers: “We’re not going anywhere! Not when the whole family is finally here!”

Mom had cast aside the blankets and was now moving towards him. All the weariness had gone out of her when some terrible strength took over her. For the first time in his life, Nuncio was afraid of his mother. He scampered back towards the window… and pulled down the curtains.

“No! Not the sun!”

Mom covered her eyes like they were on fire and dived back under the blankets like a wounded animal would into its nest. Nuncio lied on the floor waiting for his heart to stop beating so fast. Mom had always been… his mom. His protector and caretaker but now… he knew she could also be his enemy. The thought alone was almost enough to make him cry.

Then mom started weeping under the blankets.

“… Nuncio… sorry… I am sorry… I just… I’m just so tired and… I would never hurt you.” Mom said.

She could. Nuncio knew that now. She would hate herself for it afterwards, but she could hurt him if it came to that. He didn’t say that out loud. How could he ever hurt his mother like that?

“I know, mom. I know.” Nuncio said.

Before leaving the room, he closed the curtains and took the bowl. He found his sister Elysa in the kitchen. She was younger than him only by minutes and had come to this world holding his heel but that still made him the older sibling. Her big brother.

When he walked into the kitchen, Elysa looked up from her hands and Nuncio saw she had chewed her lip bloody. A habit neither of them could shake.

“… is she going to be okay?” Elysa said.

Nuncio looked at his sister… and then smiled. Maybe the smile could cover the lie.

“She just needs to sleep.”

She nodded and looked outside at their garden that was growing out of control.

“I… saw Mathilde last night.”

Nuncio flinched at the mention of Mathilde. The only death no one in the village had mourned. Children had been taught to never go with Mathilde no matter what she offered them, and everyone had let out a sigh of relief when she passed away. Nuncio had seen her once and wondered how anyone that beautiful could be so despised. Then Mathilde had looked at him… and he had seen her hungry smile.

“Mathilde… she went away… because of the plague.”

His sister let out a terrified giggle.

“I guess she came back. She was asking for you but… you were asleep. I… I told her to fuck off.”

Nuncio nodded.

“Good.” He said.

Nuncio started rinsing the bowl while his sister sat by the kitchen table. They had come to this world together and sometimes… they could sense what the other was thinking. He could feel the plan forming in her mind and could make out its general shape before she even said it out loud.

“No.” Nuncio said.

Elysa flinched at that.

“No, what?”

“We can’t leave mom.”

She bit her lip again.

“If… we left… just the two of us… we could get help from the neighboring villages. Someone has to know… what is going on.”

“We can’t leave mom here.” Nuncio said.

“But she doesn’t want to go. If… we stay here… we’ll get sick too.” Elysa said.

Nuncio started drying the bowl so hard it almost cracked.

“I… I’ll think of something.”

No one would listen to him so… maybe it was time for actions and not words. When King Eld had been a boy, a demon bear had been terrorizing his village and he had killed it. Who said he couldn’t kill a monster too? He could be a hero too.

Once he was done with the dishes, Nuncio left Elysa in the house and walked to the workshop at the back of their home where grandfather had made his living as a carpenter. He had helped grandpa often enough to know how to sharpen a stick into a stake. If the legends were true… he would only need one. Driven into the beast’s heart and if his resolve wavered… he would only have to think of mom hiding from the sun in her bedroom. That told him what to do.

Armed with a stake and a hammer, Nuncio started following the hoofprints of the monster’s horse. No hero would come to save them so… Cobbler’s Hold would have to save itself. His greatest ally was the daylight but… he no longer trusted the sun. The light and the heat felt oppressive like the eyes of a callous witness who refused to intervene.

The search took him into the forest.

To the Wyrd Stones.

Every child was warned to never venture past the stones and every year a child ignored the warning. Sometimes they would come back scared and muddied. More often than not they were never seen again.

When he approached the stones, the space between them began to glow and distort and he could see a different world at the end of a long portal.

Nuncio stared at the white stones. If he stepped through them, would he ever come back out? Maybe… maybe all he could do was save himself and Elysa. Who would ever know that he had abandoned his mother? Who would blame him even if they did?

I would know, Nuncio thought. 

He crossed the Wyrd Stones that guarded the border between Garuccia and The Wyrding.

The woods beyond the Wyrd Stones had been beautiful once. You could still catch glimpse of the former glory, but those days were now long gone. The presence of his father had spoiled the soil and poisoned the trees. Instead of a playground, the forest was a place guarding a terrible secret. The tree branches were heavy with crows who were waiting for the feast to begin.

When he looked at the crows, they met his gaze with their black, beady eyes. Just their presence felt like a promise. A promise that he would fail, and they would clean his bones.

“I won’t fail.” Nuncio said.

In response the murder of crows laughed in unison. The sound of human laughter almost made him turn tail and run but he was frozen in place. Once the laughter had seized, the crows spoke.

“Don’t play that game with us, kid. We all know you’re fucked.” The crows said.

The crows took flight laughing like a pack of cruel children. Nuncio watched them go, his heart beating too fast again. It actually hurt. Like his heart was trying to hammer its way out of his chest. Then he slapped his cheeks.

“What do you know? You’re just dumb birds.” Nuncio muttered to himself.