The Mischievers in the Shadows, Part 1
Rome R. Oshaw, 505 CT | Reading time: 25 minutes
Foreword
If you're reading this, I may already be long gone... Don't worry, I'm not dead! I'm traveling again, looking for one of the Mischievers.
Oh you haven't heard of the Mischievers? Understandable. They're in the shadows after all. And it's a name I came up with! And haven't put out into one of mine publications yet! Completely understandable.
"Mischiever" is the name I coined for mysterious beings I've encountered, or rather, barely found knowledge of, on my journeys. In a world of gods and celestial monarchs that walk freely in the light of day, there are all sorts of misbehaving entities hiding in the abscesses of darkness.
I deal in knowledge, and the secret kind draws my attention the most. Secret knowledge of beings of unknown origin and power is transmitted every day, right under the noses of pompous god-kings too arrogant to turn down their haughty gaze and see; see the Mischievers dancing in the shadows!
So far I've found clues of five entities. My encounters have been distant at best, as they're frustratingly elusive, and powerful enough that I'd keep my distance regardless. In this tome herein, I start with the Glutton Queen.
On the island of Teressa, there was a small, ominous forest known as the Emeraldhide. On its edge, built atop lowland swamps, was a town called Divyista. It was a plucky little place, known far and wide as "The Artisan Fen".
That title came from Dowb the Drinker, who one day wandered out of the Emeraldhide and collapsed in the middle of Mud Square.
The nearby shopkeepers were prompt. A splash of water and a stiff slap later, Dowb was awake.
"W-what happened?" he asked.
"We should be the ones asking you, old-timer. You came out of the Emeraldhide. What madness came upon you to go in there?" asked a young Kemenari. The sun was behind them and Dowb couldn't see. The silhouetted figure offered a hand, and Dowb sat up. It was then he could make out some more of the figure.
They wore a simple white tunic with navy workman's trousers and brown boots. Their hands were covered in thick black gloves, and they had padded goggles perched on top of their head, just below two curved horns. Bright garnet skin shone in the sun as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of their head. Their eyes were lightless expanses of maroon, but were somehow expressive nonetheless. They offered Dowb the bottle of water they splashed him with.
"Drat!" Dowb said, taking the bottle. "The witch eludes me again. This blasted forest!" He held the bottle by its neck and gently swilled it until the water inside went from clear to a honey amber colour. He quickly necked the whole thing. "Thank you for that, sonny. Who am I speaking to?"
"My name is [REDACTED]," the young hero replied. "Do you have family nearby who could help you? And you mentioned a witch?"
"Oh gods no! What would those layabouts do?!" he said. "But yes, boy. I mentioned a witch. Do I have a story for you..."
"Are you quite sure, sir?" the hero said. "This is very troubling news!"
The young Kemenari had brought Dowb to Shanti Sunray, the town elder. Dowb proceeded to tell them about a troubling matter in the Emeraldhide. Dozens and dozens of massive, emerald beetles the size of horses had dug their way out of the marshes and weren't too far from the town itself. They could possibly infest the outer edges of the town within a week.
"But why were you there in the first place?" asked Sunray. "Surely one would be mad to venture into the Emeraldhide by themselves!"
"No... no, you don't understand. You kids never understand! It was a matter of great personal interest to me to brave the forest. I was on the hunt for the Glutton Queen! The Silken Mistress!"—he threw his arms up with great circumstance—"Madame Melir herself!"
Silence.
"...who?" said Sunray.
"I have never heard of such a creature. You told me she's a witch of great power," the hero added. "One that could help with the problem you have presented before us."
"Ay, that she is. One of the most powerful beings in all the lands, she hides in the shadows and only appears to a few! Her pink tent is visible only to those she deems worthwhile. It's said that she helps adventurers find their way through many difficult lands, though always at a cost."
"Then perhaps she could help us with our other problem. The town's foundation has started to crumble as the marshlands of the Emeraldhide continue to expand. In a handful of years, the buildings of Divyista will begin to crumble. Perhaps your witch could help with that?" said Sunray.
Dowb nodded. "If you would grant me this young hero as an escort, I may find the madame within a few days."
"What do you think?" said Sunray, turning to the hero. "We've already begun talks with the village of Prerie Nam to migrate there, so we are not at the mercy of the fates. If such a witch does exist though, she could solve our problem altogether. Are you willing to brave the Emeraldhide?"
"I will admit, elder, I find myself wavering slightly. But with the blessing of the Mercurial Mistress, I should be okay if the town needs me."
That night, the hero had trouble sleeping. They tossed and turned over in bed, unable to get comfortable, beads of sweat escaping their brow. Their forehead was scrunched, and their eyes oscillated rapidly behind their eyelids. They would sit up in the night with a startle, not fully conscious, before promptly falling back asleep, multiple times in the night.
By the time they woke up, the bed was completely drenched. An unusual fatigue remained in their bones, and even the morning coffee didn't help that much.
But when they began to pack their bag to travel, they found a pamphlet in it.
Emboldened, they prepared for an arduous journey ahead.
The path to the forest was a few hours away. Equipped with supplies for a few days, the hero and Dowb set upon the path to the Emeraldhide forest. The sun gently beat down from overhead, warm on the back of the neck. A light breeze encouraged the travelers, pushing their hair out of their eyes.
"Master Dowb, you seem like you've seen many journeys," said the hero, hiking up the trail. "Would you be so kind as to share a story? I wish to know why you persist in your love for adventure even at your age."
"Very straightforward of you," Dowb noted, shuffling alongside them. He took a moment to think, before beginning. "...Many years ago, when I was a wee boy barely able to scrub his knees, I ran away. The world is a big place, full of different things and different people. Strange animals, stranger folk, and new stories everywhere! You know what's on the other side of the Emeraldhide, correct?"
"A large desert, isn't it sir?"
"Not just a desert, but also the Floating Plains - a vast stretch of flat farmland with a handful of settlements, and more importantly, islands floating in the sky above them!"
"Floating islands in the sky? What fantastical things you speak about, sir!"
"We're going to magic woods to see a witch and you don't believe floating islands can exist?"
The hero laughed. "No sir, I did not mean to cast aspersions on you. Merely that I had not heard of these. Please do tell me more."
"The sky islands of the floating plains are the remains of air titans from times gone by. Some look like clouds but feel solid like rock to stand on. Some look like wizard towers that fell over and shattered into large pieces. They're a world unto themselves.
"Occasionally, pieces fall to the ground below. You should see how the explorers and archeologists swarm in to take them apart. There are entire expeditions across the plains studying the pieces of these sky islands, though none have found a way to go up there themselves.
Dowb gave the hero a meaningful look. "Wouldn't it be wonderful to see what is up there?"
"I do admit sir, it sounds wonderful. Imagine looking down upon the world from such a height. Why, what sights we would see!"
"I've been up there..."
The hero turned to see their travel companion. Dowb was unusually clear-eyed, surveying them. The hero met and held his gaze. They couldn't tell if this old man was lying, but his eyes burned with an intensity they hadn't seen yet.
"Why do you wish to see this witch, Master Dowb?"
"I need to make my way back up there," said Dowb. He looked away and stuck his pinky in his ear, cleaning it. "I left something there that means a lot to me."
The hero looked ahead to the path. "I see. Well, we shall yet find her, sir."
"And what about you? Where is your calling?"
"I am a simple blacksmith, sir. My calling is to beat metal and create the finest tools and weapons I can. My greatest joy is my hammer"—they flourished their small hammer before stowing it back in a side pocket—" and what it can create. We have some of the best craftsmen in Divyista. I'd put our skill up against anyone." The hero beamed with pride.
"Can't relate," Dowb said simply.
As they crested a low hill, they saw it a few hundred feet away - a pink and white striped tent, standing by the road that led into the forest. A figure stood near its entrance, with a hooked beak and a rainbow plume on the back of its neck.
The figure clocked the two and turned around to go into the tent.
"It seems we're in luck, sir. Shall we proceed?"
When they took a step forward however, the tent raised into the air, as if an invisible hand was pulling it up by its flysheet. It spiraled and contorted, and became smaller and smaller, until it flew away into the direction of the forest. The figure seemed to have disappeared. Nobody was underneath, and nothing was left in its space.
"Well, I guess it was never going to be that easy," Dowb remarked.
The thicket grew denser as they made their way up the central road through the forest. Every manner and shade of pine, olive, and mint was visible as the evergreen jungle shone under the sun overhead. The leaves cast disparate shadows, and the air was cool from passing over several lakes.
Eventually, the light dimmed as more shadow than sun fell from the trees. The air had an obstinate chill, worming its way through the hero's overcoat and crawling down their back, making them shiver. The shrubs around them all shivered alongside, sending a low thrum through the ether.
“Hide!” Dowb hissed suddenly, and pulled them into one of the shrubs. The hero barely avoided biting their tongue, before Dowb clamped a hard palm over their mouth. “Shh!”
The hero began to struggle, but stopped immediately when they saw a creature come out from one of the bushes a couple of hundred feet away. It was a large beast, at least ten feet from nose to tail. It had a cat's snout and short round ears, and a swirling pattern on its fur. A singular, muscular front leg balanced its torso as it hopped using its back leg, looking like a bucking horse in the way it moved.
At the moment, the creature was moving in little hops, eerily quiet, while it stalked and sniffed the nearby bushes.
“That’s a Sausgrim. Avoid staring at its swirling fur and avoid getting stomped in the chest,” whispered Dowb. The hero nodded behind Dowb’s hand.
The large feline stretched its spine as it took a big yawn. It continued to lazily sniff around a few bushes. For one tense moment, it came close to the bush in which Dowb and the hero hid. They could hear saliva dripping from the creature's mouth, as it edged closer.
Then it turned away. They breathed a sigh of relief.
The Sausgrim spent a few more minutes hopping around, before it sat down on its back leg. Both people's eyes grew wide as the creature defecated and left a big pat in the middle of the jungle, covered it in sand, and hopped away.
They waited a few moments, before Dowb hissed, "What fortuitous luck! Can you start a fire?"
"I can do you one better, sir," said the hero, conjuring a flame in their hand. "I have some rudimentary fire magic." They flicked the flame and it gently floated towards the pat before settling on top of it. The sand grew hotter as the flame rested on it, and the pat inside began to dry out. A truly vile stench would've emanated from the feces, but was absorbed by the sand and dirt.
"I see you're familiar with this creature."
"Very much, sir. Back in town, there is an alchemist by the name of Riama Railong who taught us about the creatures of the forest. This pat is an incredibly useful alchemical ingredient, not to mention the source of truly heavenly coffee." Within a minute, the pat was completely dried out, and the hero stepped out to collect it.
"Half of it is mine, you know," Dowb said, flicking a finger. The dried pat broke itself in half and wrapped itself in leaves, before floating over and disappearing within one of Dowb's side pouches.
"I see you have magic of your own. I should have expected. You're not an ordinary person, sir Dowb. You have foreknowledge about witches and the forest, and you're familiar with all these creatures, yet you're not from here. Where are you from?"
"I told you already. I have a place I must return to."
"And what use would you have for alchemical ingredients?"
"I don't have use for gold right now, but if I come across some gold, I'm going to pick it up, son. Value is value, whether it is gold or feces. Are you really going to question me over some shit?"
"Forgive me, sir, but I find myself questioning a number of things. I wonder what your motive was to bring me in here."
"Now calm down, child. I did not lie to you, or to your town elder. My magic is paltry; it serves to give me little conveniences in my old age. I certainly am not capable of defending myself against the creatures and dangers of this forest, which is why I have you. Why don't we carry on? I'm sure you'll understand more when we meet the madame."
The Kemenari hesitated. They were not a fool, something was definitely amiss here. However, as they pondered this, they saw a thorny vine creeping up near the foot of the old man.
"Watch out!" they said, pulling Dowb away from the vine, and in one swift motion, rolled away, pulled out their sword, stepped forward, and chopped off a good foot of the vine. It immediately recoiled, as if in pain, and withdrew into the bush nearby.
"Let's continue this discussion elsewhere," said Dowb, as they both watched the bushes rear up. Several animated vines menaced them from all sides. The hero had never seen so many thorns in their life - dozens upon dozens of vines seem to have appeared out of nowhere, blocking their path.
The two travelers began to run, with the hero cutting up any vines that approached their right side, and setting fire to the ones on the left. The vines reached for limbs, grabbing an arm here or a leg there, leaving gashes where the thorns raked against their skin.
After a harrowing few minutes, they arrived at a clearing devoid of creatures. They took a minute to catch their breath.
"I'm... not... done... talking to you," the hero said, panting. "I need... you to... come clean... or I'll —" Their eyes rolled back in their heads, and the ground rushed up to meet them, as the hero collapsed.
When they awoke, the forest was noticeably darker. Night had fallen.
"Good, you're awake. Come on, we need to climb into the trees or we won't survive the night."
"What happened?"
"The thorns were poisonous, but thankfully not a very strong poison. I applied some anti-venom salves to your wounds. You'll be woozy for a while, but you should be fine in the morning," said Dowb.
The hero looked around. They seemed to be in a relatively sparse space. They tasted a metallic tinge in the air. "Where are we?"
"We're in the Emeraldhide."
"No, I know that. Where in the forest?"
"I don't know!" snapped Dowb. "What, do you think I have mapped every nook and cranny of this place? It's a forest. This clearing seems to be safe, but I would still want you to get up into the trees. Sleeping on the ground is tantamount to suicide. Come on, get up!"
The hero stood up. Precisely at that moment, the trees decided to start spinning in their vision, which the hero thought was quite inconsiderate. They fell again, as nausea took over. They threw up on the floor.
"Good, some of the neutralized venom should have exited your body now. Here, chew on this," said Dowb. He tossed them a bit of jerky, which the hero accepted with gratitude. As they began chewing on the preserved meat, the savory taste began to clear their head.
"Thank you, Master Dowb. I feel okay now."
"Good, up then. Let's move." The two climbed a tree, the hero boosting Dowb from below before clambering up themselves. They took refuge in the branches, and didn't talk much more, before falling asleep.
After the hero was out, Dowb opened his eyes. An impassive expression crossed his face, as he pulled out a map and consulted it. "Not much further now," he whispered to himself. He pulled out a small flask from inside his coat, and took a deep swig. "Stupid forest," he grumbled, before putting both things away and turning over to go back to sleep.
The next morning, they both prepared themselves in silence. The day's travel was mostly inconsequential, save for a few close calls of hiding from various beasts. In a close call, they nearly ran into a creature whose head was not visible, given its neck was at least 12 feet in length and went past the thicket of trees. Once they realized it, they quietly crawled on the ground and got past it.
As the evening began to approach once again, they saw it. The tent was visible a few hundred feet away. "Hopefully she doesn't fly away this time," said Dowb.
But before they could find out, a shrill screech rang in their heads. Words penetrated their skulls against their will — "Gnash, kill, eat, chomp, kill, break, eat!" They both clutched their heads as their temples throbbed in pain.
"What... is that?!" said the hero, barely able to open one eye through the agony. They saw the source — a giant green-carapaced beetle 6 feet in length, its pincers an additional 3 feet and wickedly sharp. It scuttled out from beneath the ground and stood in their way, emanating a sick smell that made the hero want to run away.
They pulled out their sword and stood their ground. The beetle didn't wait; it rushed at the hero, grabbing at them with its crushing grip. The hero leaped back and shot a small ball of flame at it, which exploded upon collision, but when the smoke cleared, the beetle chittered unharmed. It let out another psychic scream and the hero fell to a knee, the pain too immense.
The insect lunged again, but the hero managed to raise their sword just in time. They wedged the sword in the beetle's pincers, and watched in horror as the creature's grip almost bent the sword. Before it could destroy the weapon, the hero twisted the blade, nicking off one of the pincer's teeth on the inside. The creature cried out in pain and anger.
Dowb threw a small bottle on the creature's hind half, and as it broke, a purple mist held its hind legs. The creature reared up vertically, as if the mist weighed down its back half. The hero lunged forward, hoping to stab a soft underbelly, but was dismayed to find the same hard carapace. The point of their sword broke off entirely.
As the hero despaired over how they were supposed to fight off dozens of these things, a flash of shadow approached from the tent in the distance. The figure they'd seen before rushed forward at an impossible speed. It pulled out two of the feathers from its rainbow plume, and two curved blades appeared in their hands - one a fiery red, the other a cerulean blue.
Jumping as they approached, the figure spun rapidly in the air, their body a whirling dervish of red, blue, and purple. The beetle was still vertical and a bit helpless, and before it could let out a psychic screech, the figure cut off its pincers, and pierced down through its head. The monster twitched once, twice, and then stopped moving entirely. The air immediately felt lighter, as the beetle's psychic presence dissipated and the life left its body.
Silence hung heavy in the air for a moment, before a booming voice, a voice like grating stone, came from the tent. "Verrrnusss, briiiiing that insect to meee!"
"There she is," said Dowb. "Let's go." As the being, apparently called Vernus, effortlessly picked up the massive beetle and carried it towards the tent, the two travelers followed.
The hero had never seen such wondrous things as they saw in that tent. Not only was the space inside bigger than the outside of the tent, but the air was so thick with magic, light, and perfume, that they had to cover their face to even stand in there. Once they acclimated, they looked over to the right side.
Sitting on that side of the tent, fitted tightly in a square abscess, was the largest woman they'd ever seen. Her body seems to roll over itself as she adjusted her position, fat bulging from all sides. Even seated, she was nearly eight feet tall and almost as wide. The hero couldn't see the tent wall behind her. Her neck has five rolls bulging out of her purple robes and the bright red lipstick and pink blush didn’t hide her severe wrinkes. A mop of long stringy white hair rippled out from under a matching purple pointed hat. Her large nose ended in a dull hook, with a boil sitting near the left side. There were pockmarks of scarring on her face, like she popped every pimple she ever had.
The tent itself had bejeweled torches all around the wall, and they glowed bright as day, giving the entire space a bright sheen that bounced off every cabinet, chest, and rack, of which there were many.
A cauldron sat opposite her, and all around the tent wall were dozens, no, hundreds of paintings. The tent top was at least twenty feet up, and the paintings went all the way to the top. They depicted the witch with various people, evidently all people she had made deals with.
She spoke with a thin, high voice that occasionally rumbled like moving stone. "Verrrnusss, who have you brought to meee?"
Dowb stepped forward, "O great Silken Mistress, my name is Dowb the Drinker. I thank you humbly for this audience you've granted us. We beseech you, please hear our plight. A town's worth of lives are at stake!"
"Ohhh? And what of it? Lives are at stake every day — people suffer everywhere. Such is the rule of nature on this world."
"Please Madame," the hero stepped forward. "These are my people we speak of. The town of Divyista is not a perfect place, but it is one that thousands of people call home. We are at our wits' end. If we couldn't defeat even one of these beetles, what hope do we have against dozens?"
"Silence!" she boomed. "Where are your manners? Introduce yourself first!"
The hero recoiled. "My apologies, madame. My name is [REDACTED]."
"Ohhh?" her voice grated. "Interessssting... a name that resonates within my cauldron." She drew their attention over to the cauldron on the other side, which had begun to bubble with a bright green color. The hero could've sworn it was empty before.
"What does that mean?" they asked.
"It means we were destined to meet, young heroooo," she said, looming large over them. When they turned around, they thought she looked bigger. "It means that you and I should make a deal, wahahaha!" Her laughter shook the entire tent. Dowb grabbed on to the hero's pant leg and gently urged them forward.
"A deal?"
"Yesss!" she continued. "You said you wanted to save your town. How precious are your people to you? What will you give to save them?"
"I don't know what someone as eminent as you could need, madame, but if it pleases you, I am at your service. I need neither fame nor wealth. All I wish to do is to save our town, which is sinking into the marshes, and being threatened by these giant beetles," said the hero. They pointed to the carcass of the insect, conspicuous by its shiny carapace in a very brightly-lit interior. It was almost blinding to look at.
The hero didn't notice, but Dowb watched Vernus walk behind her body and disappear.
"A town built upon the remains of a village, built with heavy woods and metals, on top of a bog. To save it is no small feat. The price you pay will be quite great." she said.
"Whatever pleases you, Madame," said the hero.
"You said you need neither fame nor wealth. I can give you what you need to fight the insects, and I will solidify the bog under the town so that it never sinks. Will you give me what I need in return?"
"If my sacrifice saves the thousands that live there, yes."
"Then I want... your naaame," she thundered. The scent of perfume became mustier as the cauldron began to bubble.
"My... name?"
"Yesss, you will become nameless, and I shall keep it away in my wares. Don't worry, I'll keep it safe like the precious thing it is. Nobody shall remember you, but you will save this town of yours. Does that sound fair to you?"
The hero steeled themselves. After a moment of thought, they replied, "Yes, that sounds fair."
"Then a deal has been maaaaade, wahahaha!" She boomed again and pointed a finger at the hero. A white beam shot from it to the chest of the hero, and their mouth fell open in surprise. Out of their mouth emerged a small undulating orb of some sort, which she sucked up into a small vial and put away. "What's your name, child?"
"I... don't know." The hero couldn't remember. All they knew is that something valuable had been taken from them. Unbeknownst to them, a new painting appeared on the wall behind the Madame.
"Good. You have given me something very precious," she said. "And I will keep my end of the bargain. Vernusss!"
Vernus re-emerged from behind her. He approached the beetle and tore off a pincer, and one of its carapace plates, with seemingly little effort. He then took those two pieces and threw them into her cauldron. The cauldron erupted with a roiling force, and spit both out immediately. The carapace was now a body-length shield, and the pincer a barbed blade of shiny black metal.
"The shield will protect you from their pesky chittering, and the blade will give you the strength to pierce their hide. Whether or not you will be able to use them is up to youuu," the Madame explained. "But you might not have the time, wahahaha!"
The hero turned to Dowb. "We should have a few days left, right? We can go fight the insects now."
"I'm afraid you're on your own, young ooone. I have personal business with this one," the Madame said. "Now go, for you don't have much time." She raised a meaty palm and the hero felt their body begin to slacken.
"No, wait. Please! Please..." the hero started, but it was futile. They felt their consciousness slip away once again.
When the hero awoke, they were on a hill overlooking the town. To their horror, they saw a number of beetles crawling near the forest entrance, a few hundred feet away. They could overrun the town within a day.
"How could this happen?" thought the hero. "We had a week left! Either the creatures advanced faster than anticipated, or the witch tricked me and I've been unconscious for days."
Regardless, they didn't have the time to think — they had to move now!
The nameless hero ran. They ran like they'd never run before, desperate to get to the forest entrance. Out of the corner of their eye, they saw a small group of townsfolk near the east gate, bearing pitchforks and axes. They'll get slaughtered. It's up to the hero.
They bounded up to the forest entrance and took a mighty leap. Brandishing their wicked black pincer blade, they landed directly on top of one beetle and with one mighty shove, drove the blade into its body. It went through like soft clay. The hero was shocked by how easy it was.
The creature let out a screech, and at first, the hero felt the familiar psychic scream pierce their mind, but then the carapace shield began to hum, and the scream dissipated.
Feeling hope for the first time, the hero fought. The next few minutes felt like hours. The townsfolk managed to join the fray, but the hero yelled for them to stay back. One poor soul was crushed between the merciless pincers, but everyone else managed to evade the monsters. Like a whirlwind, the hero flowed through the field. They sliced one of the beetles clean through, and bisected it lengthwise. Another fell to an overhead chop, and another's ugly head was cut clean off with an attack from below.
The insects were many however, and the hero wasn't unscathed. In trying to protect one of the men, the hero took a pincer through their left leg. The pain was immense, and with the beetle's thorn in their body, they felt the psychic pressure mount in their head. The shield kept most of it at bay, but it still broke through, amplified by the contact. Gritting their teeth, all the hero said to the man was, "Don't worry, I've got this. Stay back, all of you!"
On and on the hero fought, not just against the beetles, but against the increasing fatigue and the occasional hit they took. Nicks and scrapes turned to gashes and wounds, and the hero was bleeding. But slowly, they cut down more and more insects. Ten, twenty, thirty, they sliced through the monsters and left their bodies laying on the field.
Several of the insects swarmed towards the townsfolk, but they managed to keep them at bay, if only for a moment. Many of them fell over clutching their heads, and the hero cursed before changing tact and running towards the offending monsters. They couldn't raise their arm overhead anymore; one of the beetles had pierced their shoulder. Changing the grip on their blade, they attacked from below and began cutting down the insects.
At some point, the hero had climbed onto the corpse of one of the monsters and captured the attentions of the others, creating a small mound of bodies in one place. By the end of the fight, the hero was well over twelve feet in the air, standing on a pile of corpses. The townsfolk counted sixty beetles the hero had slain.
They had also suffered two broken fingers, a pierced calf, a pierced shoulder, thirty gashes, and lost an obscene amount of blood. When they finally cut down the last monster, they turned to the people, smiled, and said, "It is done." Their eyes rolled back in their head and they collapsed.
The townsfolk brought the hero back to the village. They tried to save them with medical aid, but it was no use. They had passed.
"Does anybody know who they are?" asked one.
"No, but they seem familiar. I feel like I should know them." said another.
"They saved Divyista today. We were unable to do anything against those monsters."
"They have made the most noble of sacrifices today," said Shanti Sunray. "What of the monstrous creatures? Dispatch Riama's alchemists to salvage whatever we can from their bodies."
"We can't do that, elder. We could scarce believe our eyes. Not long after the hero passed, many of the creatures' bodies were absorbed into the marshes, faster than any quicksand we've ever seen. We only managed to save the hero's blade and shield before they too were gone."
"What?" she said. "The corpses sank into the ground?"
"Yes, and the marsh hardened afterwards. None of the creatures remain."
"I must see this. Call Riama. I must speak to her at once!"
In the aftermath of this event, the town discovered that by some strange magicks, the marshes under the town had solidified from the creatures' bodies. The hero had solved not one, but both of the town's problems, though none could remember their name.
Nonetheless, the hero would be remembered, if not by anything else than the statue they erected of their likeness in the middle of Mud Square. The beetle blade and shield they used were adorned onto the statue, and would become priceless relics of the town, forever reminding them of the hero's great sacrifice.
"I wiiiin, Dowb." said Madame Melir. "Hand it over."
With a comically large sigh, Dowb handed her a pouch. "You were right after all."
"Of couuurse I was! The spirit of heroism isn't dead in this world, and will never die. Remember that Dowb, that as long as something worth fighting for remains, there will always be those who fight for it."
"A cruel fate you put on them, to not be remembered."
"Bah!" she boomed. "There are other ways to remember. Names aren't the only words of power. But speaking of names, have you decided the name for the town?"
"Yes. It's a town of artists. They'll be known far and wide as The Artisan Fen. I plan on pushing them in that direction as we discussed."
"Good, goooood. Then go now, Dowb. There is much work ahead, wahahaha!"
Thank you for reading. See other fiction here.
Loved the story, I smiled so wide when I saw the pamphlet :D
"Precisely at that moment, the trees decided to start spinning in their vision, which the hero thought was quite inconsiderate", has to be my favourite line. I enjoyed the humour peppered throughout.
Looking forward to reading more of your work!
Madame melir❤️