“Bear with me, would you?”
I failed to fight back a miserable sigh, raising my hands in submission.
“Okay, okay.”
“This witch, Grona, stole something from me - my wizard’s talisman. It’s a proud piece of mine, a trophy, a… declaration, confirming my title. I can’t afford being without it for too long. You know, taxis, lawyers, authority, the landlord… etcetera, etcetera. It takes the visage of a shining stare, an enchanting golden orange. If you can retrieve this for me, then you can consider your loyalty proven.”
It seemed far too easy to be true, yet I didn’t say a word, even though countless thoughts rushed through my mind, bombarding my head and filling me with doubt and a small sense of dread. I was keen on changing my mind.
“I -”
“Good luck out there!”
He really loves cutting people short, doesn’t he?
The wizard quickly made for the set of spiralling stairs to, by my guess, go check up on Terrowin.
“Wait!” I was lucky to have stopped him in his tracks.
“Terrowin is dying, possibly already gone. There is a chance for me to help him, save his life, but instead of all that, you want me to go fetch your stupid talisman to stay at good terms with your landlord? Are you kidding me?”
“What? It’s taken me this long to work off my rent, and I’m not stopping now.”
“SERIOUSLY?”
The wizard sighed, shoulders slumping as he gave in, pushing his thoughts to the back of his head as he confronted my plea.
“Yes… Yes, you’re absolutely right. I-I’m sorry… I think this whole situation is getting to me.” The wizard quickly took a moment to himself to gather his strength, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead as his clear eyes met mine.
“Near the witch’s house grows a rare plant, one with dark green and somewhat bristly leaves. It grows Mugajin flowers, flowers beautiful at the sorts, a dark rubicund outside, shades of azure and violet within. They carry a peculiar, but sweet fragrance. They contain a special healing toxin that might just work in reviving Terrowin and stop the poison, perchance even contradicting it. Four would be sufficient.”
The wizard seemed serious, his voice grim. It didn’t take him long to turn around and gradually make his way back upstairs. I could but only stare from behind, keeping my focus on those so-called Mugajin florae.
I mean, come on. It was the least I could do for Terrowin after what I did to the poor guy with my mug.
“Here goes nothing,” I said to myself as I left the tower, greeted by the dampened smell of wet earth that clung to my boots and dripped from the hanging flora surrounding me.
“I’m prepared for the worst. Not really, but I hope so.”
I started making my way toward the witch’s house.
The map I carried with me proved to be quite the guide.
CHAPTER 7
I UNLEASH MY INNER CHICKEN
CARLAYLIN
I SNUCK CLOSER AND HID MYSELF behind one of the trees, making sure its bark would be my mask. Night had fallen and crept to its zenith as midnight now roamed the skies, painting the world in shadows, spreading stardust across its darkened heavens like that of a canvass, painting the three moons with a ghostly glow.
All was silent but for the song of the crickets as they chirped among the bushes and foliage. Not to mention my new buddy, the owl, who kept hooting somewhere amongst the branches of the highest tree.
The witch’s house’s lights were on. I knew for a fact that my mission wasn’t going to be easy. It would’ve been much easier if she were asleep or out on a holiday cruise with her witchy friends… Guess we can’t all get what we want.
This house was built into the trees, using its roots and branches as anchors and roofs. It was quite astonishing, really, and quite tasteful, even if I do say so myself. The trees were of ancient oak, making for quite the decoration and quite the effect! The dense leaves of the trees seemed to be breaking through the oddly misshapen roof.
I moved with the shadows and moved closer to the house, trying my absolute best to stay out of sight.
I saw an open window leading into the witch’s living room. I took a deep breath and silently ran toward that window, using my so-called parkour skills to jump through.
It might sound crazy, but I kind of felt like a ninja.
It was pretty fun.
My feet snugly met the floor as I landed in a crouch, trying to keep my balance.
I could clearly see the wizard’s talisman sitting above the fireplace, almost acting as some fraud, honest too good trophy. The place was relatively clean, neat and well kept for that of a witch’s house. Sure there were a few skulls and bones lying about, but come on. You can’t waltz around without admiring those cosy looking chairs in front of the fireplace first. Nothing came near to the comfort those chairs radiated.
The floor was of wood and somewhat carpeted with a red material right at the foot of the hearth. The walls shared in the same wooden qualities, slightly twisty and bent, and not straight like the house of any normal person I’ve ever known. Strange, hypnotizing, but… fashionable, I dare say.
Some bookshelves decorated the place, stacked with lots of old spell books, tomes, historical and romance novels, psychology volumes and battered little paperbacks stuck in between. Melted candles decorated the bookcase top. I painstakingly studied the area for any signs of the witch. It was by my rare flashes of luck that there was no sign of her. It gave me a good and most desires chance to sneak about and grab the talisman as quick as possible.
I placed a good bet on my special nicking skills, courtesy of the days I spent at the Sleeping Dragon’s inn.
A humming left me rooted in my tracks, frozen to the spot with a heart threatening to pull a heart attack on me. Hell, it was without a doubt the witch – one that would either become my best friend or leave me for dead and take me in as one of her experiments.
I tried to be as stealthy as possible from that point on. I looked around to see where the humming was coming from, which could be of great use for me if I wished to stay unnoticed. I noted that the odd melody came from a hole in the wall, one I couldn’t believe I missed. It was a huge opening next to the hearth, almost like someone jackhammered the wall and didn’t even care for a door and some handy hinges.
I steadily peered around the corner and met a scenery that made much more sense than that of the living room. It was a kitchen fit for a witch. The walls were of dark grey wooden planks, broken at some spots to reveal the plaster beneath. The floor was of stones with textures of dark grey, some even broken, brown dusty earth covering the rest of the surface where needed. There were a lot of shelves, cabinets and counters with potions, poisons, ingredients and lonely, unfortunate skulls on them. A large black cauldron stood in the middle of the small kitchen area. Tendrils of purple smoke and mist snaked down the sides of the coarse cauldron. All the kitchen candles from the pantry were extinguished.
Stirring the cauldron was the witch. She looked just like your average witch: Pointy black hat, pointy shoes, short-sleeved black dress and a tattoo of a spider on her upper arm.
Ha… Tomboy witch… ahem. What? It’s not like I’m imagining her with the gang, racing their brooms from canteen to canteen, playing pool and poker and having a jolly good night out.
She really went all out with the pointy. Not to mention her pointy nose and her wrinkly ad literally cracked face, her skin met with lovely textures of light blue. Don’t get me started with the mole.
Witches came in different colours. I saw a green one just the other day, an orange one at the wicked shopping centre. This witch’s skin was as dry as sandpaper, or what looked like mud that just hardened in the sun. Her eyes were an unnatural blue.
I got a tad nervous and started seeing all the flaws in my unplanned plan. That witch didn’t look friendly at all.
She started chanting a spell. I reckoned that she must’v
e been hard at work, creating her newest potion or brew or something. Maybe it was the way all witches made corndogs or falafels, but I’ll never know. I mustered all my courage. Gathered my breath and took a big risk. I sneaked closer, holding my breath as I aimed on being as quiet as I physically could. I hammered my back against the wall, next to the opening that led to the kitchen. My heart thumped against my ribcage and had me apprehensive.
I peeked in around the corner, and when I was most certain that she was distracted, I took the dodge and swooped pass by, swiping the talisman from its setting, hastily propping it into my satchel. I was positively sure she didn’t see me. Yet again, I’ve been wrong before.
All that remained was for me to time my escape. I knew it was going to be a run in which I wouldn’t be so keen on looking back.
“Just a hint of salt,” I heard the witch say to herself, probably bedazzling the nasty boiling cauldron contents with some nifty salt bits. “And a crow’s talon.” I was this close to gagging. I wasn’t about to stay around to taste the soup…
“Giant’s toe for sour. Fairy’s wings for sweet.”
The terrible humming continued, working on my anxieties.
“Potion’s ready. Now to get the thief off its feet.”
I didn’t know which was scarier: the witch catching the sight of me as I sneaked past by, or the fact that her creepy list rhymed ending with me regretting the very moment I agreed to come here.
I froze in my tracks, caught in a sneaking position, slowly turning my head to my right. Those ghastly eyes locked with mine and my heart sunk down to the lowest reaches of my dirty boots. The witch spoke another last-minute spell. My eyebrows knitted as a flash of bright, blinding white light shot my way. The force knocked me off my feet and sent me falling to the ground, landing hard on my bum, the satchel flying off my person, skidding off.
My body felt tingly as the magic whirred at my skin, snaking across my body and blurring my vision.
What the…?
I felt a sudden sting at my body, pins and needles, but no further pain as I leisurely opened my eyes. At first I thought that everything had grown, but in truth, I was the one that shrank. It wasn’t that bad, actually. It was something I could get used to. My mind already started paging through the possibilities of what tiny Carlaylin could do and or accomplish.
“Got you!” called the witch, a sadistic smile tugging at her lips, “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”
I wanted to respond with a no, but all that came out was a peep.
What?
I looked down at myself, eyes studying each… feather. I literally hopped with shock. I was a chicken. Oh… the embarrassment. I wasn’t just your average, mindless chicken but a classy three-legged…
NO! Not again!
“Tell that wizard of yours that he will never get that talisman back.” As she spoke her cruel words, the witch grabbed my now-too-big-for-me satchel and carelessly placed it on the top of the hearth – the talisman’s original spot.
“It’s mine now.”
Looking back at me, she tilted her head.
“No… wait.”
She ducked down closer and pulled a highly noticeable fake pitiful expression, pursing her lips for the fun of it.
“You can’t.”
I wanted to respond with a few selective words best not to be mentioned, but another chicken noise escaped my mouth… um… beak. Like I said: this was far too much discomfiture any normal person should have the pleasure of undergoing.
“You’re just some poultry fowl. You can’t talk. Neither will you return…”
Uhm… define ‘neither will you return’…
“You will make an absolutely delicious dinner. The cooked frogs didn’t really do it for me. I’m much more in the mood for fried chicken.”
An evil cackle drilled and my poor chicken ears as I merely stood and stare. She was even uglier looking upwards.
I didn’t want to get eaten. It was the last thing on my list… Though, I do believe that it would be the last thing on any person’s list.
I couldn’t keep my beak shut, for the panic was too great. Moved by sheer trepidation, I yelled, “I’m too young to be eaten!”
Only, instead of English, my words came forth in the sacred chicken language. Instinctively, I darted. I ran around randomly, uncontrollable as I raced through the house, knocking things over and breaking them with the panic that drove me. Two legs are easy to run with, but try running with three. Not as easy as you might think. Ask me. It’s pretty confusing. Which leg represents which? Since one random, uncalled for leg decided he’ll pop up and join the party.
As I ran around, losing my feathers, the witch tried to catch me. I picked up the pace and unwillingly clucked with anxiety. I was simply just too chicken to face that ugly visage again, less so having her clingy hands on me. Don’t laugh.
The witch flushed, flaring with the anger that consumed her mind. She had bird murder on the brain.
I accidentally knocked over a stone statue of an ugly troll on a pedestal and let it scatter into a million pieces when it hit the floor. Turned out that was her father.
Anyway, the witch dived at me in attempt to catch me, but flew face first into the couch, slumping down. She looked like a superwoman who shot through the sky and crashed into a tree. The witch continued her wild chicken chase until finally succeeding by grabbing me by my little chicken neck.
“Ninja chicken!” I yelled in the ancient chicken tongue and immediately pecked at one of her eyes when she brought me too close to her face, enough for me to personally witness those excruciatingly horrid features, first hand, HD.
She shouted, clutching her eye in pain and dropped me to the ground. Yet, I wasn’t finished just yet. Something in me had snapped. A spark from the kindled flames in my soul ignited a fire in my head.
I was feral as I viciously attacked her all over, pecking mercilessly and scratching at her with my three chicken talons. She was now my personal scratching post as I scratched and clawed like there was no tomorrow. She stumbled back and fell to the ground. She tried to scatter away as I left her with no hope, my beak still sharp and my talons sharper. The witch even tried to blast me with more of her spells within the breaks I gave her. I had never seen anyone in such a panic. Her magic casted off in all directions, wrecking the house like a hurricane. She missed me with each shot. I was too fast, too flexible.
I can’t lie – I really did enjoy it!
I mostly aimed for that Slasher face of hers. I hoped to remodel it. Trust me, anything will be better looking than that thing you can call a witch.
“Enough!” she cried with an ear-piercing roar, tossing me off and finding her feet. She kept a woozy stance as she scowled down at me, baring those sharp and pointy teeth of hers. She scared me so much I almost laid an egg… not that I would.
“Where did you go?” the witch asked in an alert. I looked at myself and noticed that I was invisible again. Manipulating light and water drops… Great self-defence technique! If anything, I looked more like a wavering patch of unstable air. My mask was good, but it wasn’t exactly stable. Whenever I realize I’m busy doing magic, it starts to wear off… Suckish. I know.
I took the risk and hopped onto her coffee table. From there on I jumped onto her head, causing her large hat to pull over her eyes. I took my final leap and landed next to my satchel on the fireplace. I grabbed it with my beak and jumped off, lugging the bag with me as I went. I immediately made a run for it, leaping through the open window. I ran further and deeper into the forest, not daring to look back. That witch already gave me more than enough nightmares for the next few weeks to come...
I could her bellowing something in the distance, probably waving an angry fist. It almost sounded like, “Come back here, you little three-legged invincible chicken brat! I will find you and when I do, you will be the next thing on my menu!” if I’m not mistaken.
That w
itch wasn’t exactly right in the head. She reeked of pure evil. I could smell it, it smelt of… Mugajin? I gasped, stopping in my tracks, letting the satchel drop from my ever-clutching beak. Mugajin flowers! I forgot all about them! I took a little detour of my own and plucked a few Mugajin flowers from the tree, doubling the quantity of what I was supposed to take for good measure.
You can’t ever be too sure.
From there on out, after shuffling the flowers into my satchel, I ran as fast as my three scrawny chicken legs could carry me. I raced no for victory until I knew I had lost her for sure. I slowed down, catching my breath as I did.
I really unleashed my inner chicken that night, even though it was beyond the line of embarrassing. In situations like these, I was actually very glad Terrowin wasn’t around to see me like this. I think I had about enough of being an invisible three legged ninja chicken.
Now, onward and off wards to the wizard’s tower. My loyalty has been proven at last!
CHAPTER 8
THE LAST GRAIN OF THE HOUR GLASS
CARLAYLIN
DAWN HAD RISEN AND THE birds started chirping their song. The sun rose gradually, but exquisitely, hesitantly reaching for its zenith in the sky, to look down upon all of Ysellian and lend the land its warming, lancing rays.
I had finally made it back to the tower, exhausted, ready for another nap, if anything. Good thing the witch’s house carried quite the distance from the great Wizard’s eccentric tower.
It took me a few hours to get to the witch, and another few to return, but I did it. I made it. I stood on the small stone porch with excellent pride swirling about in my head. The morning was timid, the large dampened, moss-riddled boulders decorating the tower’s bottom, casted a most desired cool shadow over me.
Flashing a glance upward, I noticed as the door, now larger than ever, rose up in front of me. It was a giant – a giant of wood and jewels, guarding the entrance to where I needed to be.
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