4. The woodpecker

He heard their footsteps fading away, and the shallow stream trickling somewhere nearby.
Hagen opened his eyes and brought his hands to his face. It left his face with a slippery smear. He yelped. His right hand was missing its forefinger. It had been taken off cleanly at the knuckle. He couldn’t remember anything clearly. His clothes were bloody, it was dark, he was alone in the forest, but he’d forgotten what happened or how he got here. His last memory was of him leaving the tavern after a strange magician paid him in silver coins. It must have been bandits after his money, but why’d they cut off his finger?
Night turned into day, and evening fell again and the waning moon came out while he still lay on the bank of the creek. He could hear a persistent toca toc toc which gave him a headache.
The more time passed, the better he felt, and he began remembering more things. Of course! They took the ring! He sat up with a jolt when he recalled Alistair and the flash of his dagger. His hands clenched into fists and when he opened them, he saw that he was no longer missing his index finger. Had he seen things? Or had it grown back? He ran his hand along his left side, and found nothing there except caked blood.
Toca toca toc went that obnoxious noise again. Hagen looked up to see a woodpecker, just a plain old black and white bird with a bright red cap looking down at him from a tree branch.
“How are you feeling?” the bird asked.
“I’ve lost my mind,” Hagen thought.
He stared at the bird which was busy preening its tail feathers. It glanced at him.
“It looks like you’re feeling better. Not perfect, mind you, but better.”
“Who are you?” Hagen asked.
“I’m a woodpecker.”
“I’ve never met one that talks.”
“Well, now you have.”
Hagen got unsteadily to his feet.
“They took your ring,” the woodpecker observed.
“I know.”
“You must get it back!”
“Why?”
“Don’t you know? It’s a powerful object. It can grant wishes.”
Hagen recalled how he’d wished to be out of that door-less room, and how the palace had turned to water around him. On the other hand, it might’ve been a coincidence.
“I don’t think there’s much I can do,” he said.
“You have to! You’re only alive because you have Sabin’s blood in your veins.”
“Who’s Sabin?”
“The princess. You’ve got to help her!”
“How is it that I have her blood in my veins? Is that what you said?”
“Indeed.”
“Is she my sister?”
“Mother.”
Hagen paused to think. He never knew his parents, but this seemed like a stretch.
“Assuming that’s true, how can I help her?” he asked.
“Retrieve the ring! They haven’t gone too far yet, and are still in this forest. The leeches got a little lost after I changed the path of the river. I’ll guide you to them.”
“Woodpecker?”
“Yes?”
“If they have the ring, why don’t they use it to get out of here?”
“The ring is fickle. It prefers someone clean.”
“What am I supposed to do once I find them? It’s four to one. I have no weapons and not a chance against them.”
“I’ll help you.”
“How?”
“Just trust me. Follow me.”