Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening

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[K0mori]

2. Walk Away - You feel unnerved by the temptation. All the fear you experienced in Corrinth's presence comes rushing back to you. No, you can't - you won't - do this, not now. You decide that if you're going to do something brave, you're just going to walk back to the tavern and face the devil you know, and not the one you don't.

Your stomach growls at you again, the only sound beside the rustling of leaves in the wind and the crunch of unkempt ground beneath your feet as you start on your walk back into town. You hope that Iona will have something prepared for you, maybe something with meat or potatoes... Something that would remind you of home. You miss your mother and father, your brothers, and your sisters. You miss Rigatte, too. You wish that your family was still all in one piece, sitting around a table eating scraps, the way it always was. Even if you were poor, and even if you had a lot of underlying resentment in your heart, you still wouldn't have chosen this for yourself, never in a hundred lifetimes.

You reach the edge of town, and you see the same little houses that you saw at this hour the prior night, and you even feel the same pangs of homesickness for the homestead you left behind in Zuklanar. It's so close, yet so far away. You look back over your shoulder, at the shadows you emerged from, and wonder if you could simply leave Tashlaan someday, maybe in a few months, maybe longer, whenever the heat has finally blown over from the murder you committed, and you can show your face around those parts without everyone recognizing you right away... How long would it take? Would it ever be possible to see them again?

It would be so much easier if they would simply move on and settle in another town, where the church and the lawgivers would regard you all as strangers. You could start over, and try harder to make life easier on them. You could...

You could hug them. You could tell them you're sorry.

You're crying.

This fantasy you're conjuring up - did Rigatte feel the same way? Did she stand at the edge of some almost-familiar village and think of home? Did her empty stomach remind her of all the times her family made her feel whole, when they all suffered together? Maybe she imagined a cabin somewhere, like Lachlaen's, where you and your family would live, garden, fish, and hunt, where taxes would be paid from the coven's deep pockets, and her secrets, whatever dark deeds they might have been, would be hidden from the eyes of the law and of her loved ones alike.

You decide to linger here, at the edge of town, and gather yourself before you go walking in to the tavern again and face Corrinth and her twisted smile. On some level, you don't just loathe what she represents, but you hate her for reasons which are far pettier: she was never alone as she faced her awakening, and all the consequences which stemmed from it. You'd rather be alone right now than be in the company of someone who has never felt this burden.

Suddenly, a crow descends from a rooftop somewhere and flaps to a stop just in front of you. It lands and takes a long look at you, and you grit your teeth at the interruption. Undoubtedly, this is one of Corrinth's messengers. "...What is it?" you ask quietly.

The crow tilts its head one way for a moment, and then the other. "...Dinner!" the bird squawks before dancing a little circle to face away from you, and then flying away. Groaning in annoyance, you pick your sore body off the ground and walk to the tavern, which appears to be closed from the outside. As you step up to the entrance, a shadow moves from the window to the door and unlocks it, allowing you to enter, where a smell of pot roast and spilled beer meets your nostrils like a cavalry charge, and you nearly faint. In the dim candlelight, Corrinth leans against one of the tables.

"Well?" Corrinth says, blandly.

You glare at her. "...I didn't."

"Didn't what?" she asks. "You look rough. Were you crying?"

You ignore the question. "The crow said there'd be food."

Corrinth gestures impatiently toward a plate of food set out for you on the table she's leaning against, which you couldn't see at first because she was standing in the way. You sit down and dig in, the flavor of beef nearly foreign to you, but the potatoes good and familiar. It's the best meal you've eaten in months. Corrinth waits, looking out the window and occasionally in boredom at the ceiling, until you slow down enough that a conversation can take place.

"...You didn't try to speak with Her," Corrinth finally deduces. "That's... I wasn't even expecting you to try, tonight. It doesn't strike me as the kinda thing you'd do. At least, not yet," she adds with a sinister grin that quickly fades. "...I had an idea. But first I need to tell you a secret. It's... It's about me."

You pause and look at her wearily.

Corrinth sighs, stepping away from the table and standing beside the door, where she'd be certain to be out of view of the windows. "Me and ma, we're uh... We're not really... um, human," she mutters, looking away from your eyes as she speaks. It seems strange to see her so bashful. "I never knew my father. Ma won't tell me who he is, or was, whatever... But I do know my grandfather was fae. And that means I'm, well... Let me just show you."

You watch, stunned, as all the saturation seems to fade from her already pale complexion, leaving her skin, hair, and eyes a stark white. "You're a changeling!?" you burst out. "You hid that the whole time!?"

"Quiet!" she urges in a hushed voice, shushing you repeatedly as she gesticulates wildly, the color returning to her as she did. "It's not exactly hard to keep it hidden, alright? Once I pick a face to wear, it stays on, whether I'm sleeping, knocked out, or whatever else; you'd pretty much have to kill me to see that again. But at least you know how I get my money now, right?" she asks, laughing nervously.

You shake your head, thinking of all sorts of possibilities of what she might do with her gift. "N-no? Do you steal it or something?"

"Yes, of course I steal it!" she snaps before halting herself and taking a deep breath and holding up a hand. "...Okay. Now... Now that you understand - I can be anyone I want, for as long as I want, and I don't need a wand or a spell to do it, I want to tell you my plan." She steps over, grabbing a chair and sitting across from you at the table as she studies your face carefully.

You already don't like where this is headed.

"I'm going to disguise myself as you, Agranne, and go back to Zuklanar. We had a crow arrive today after you left for the stables. It had flown all the way over from a circle in Ryggander to get the word out that the church has already figured out who you are," she explains. "There aren't a lot of tabaxi living out there, so I guess it was pretty simple for them to just go check up with the same house that produced your sister, and they confirmed it. At least, that's how I assumed it happened. If we don't do anything, it'll be a matter of days before they search Tashlaan."

You sink into your chair. "So you're going to go back, disguised as me, and then what?"

"I'm going to cause a bunch of havoc, and then I'm going to fake your death," she says. "As long as your whole little saga stays over the border, you can keep living your life here in Turadal and even keep your name. If anyone asks about it, you're not the same Agranne as that witch from Zuklanar," she adds, coldly. "I'll stay here tonight and teach you the basics, and then leave tomorrow. I'll be gone for a few weeks, but you can learn your magic from Ika, in the meantime."

"Who's Ika?" you ask.

Corrinth motions with her head toward the bar. You look over and spot a pair of thin, ragged ears bobbing around around behind the counter. Corrinth seems to realize something. "Hey, Ika, I don't think Agranne knew we weren't alone," she says, mildly annoyed. "Use the stepstool."

"Oh, zorry!" Ika replies, stepping up to reveal herself. A goblin, short, ugly, and with a toothy grin, waves to you from the back of the room as she sets a bottle onto the bar top. "I was juzt getting myzelf a drink."

END OF CHAPTER ONE

---

Three weeks later...
​

As the days go by, you settle into your hopeless situation, occasionally hearing news from abroad. First, it comes by crow, during the nights, and then, it soon comes from travelers and merchants in town who speak of a wicked tabaxi - one who had killed three times and was still evading pursuit. It became almost like a sick joke: "no, I'm not that Agranne," you recite again and again, faking an innocent smile each time, enough that it begins to truly wear on you. In a surreal way, you really just can't wait for Agranne to die, although it mildly concerns you how exactly Corrinth intends to do it. The other witches in the coven, Ika the goblin, Nytha the elf, Faran the human, and Embryx, the drow, each take bets on what they think the grand finale will be.

You don't particularly care, as long as Corrinth stays the hell away from your family and saves them that trauma. A part of you even wonders if everyone is lying to you, and this same exact trick was played on you a year ago, when Rigatte supposedly died. As happy as you would be to see her again, if that was the truth, then you would probably beat Corrinth to death with your bare hands.

Each day, you learn new things. You know how to ride a horse, now, and you've learned the basics of caring for them. If you could afford one, you imagine you could ride a horse a pretty long distance. Each night, you keep learning. Whereas before, only rage and boiling hatred in your heart could awaken your pneuma, you've learned a new trick, courtesy of Ika. Now, whenever you want to call on a little bit of magic, you fixate on some singular characteristic of your target that you hate, and limit yourself to destroying that. Now, you can safely strike others with raw magic without killing them.

This morning, you are not expected at the stables. Jakom has said that his back is healing, and so he's able to give you a day to rest each week. You find yourself sitting at the bar as you had on that first day in town, with the same regulars, Lucyk and the others, off to your right, and Ika, drinking so much alcohol that Iona refuses to serve her anything but grog, on your left.

The door opens behind you, and in walks Lachlaen.

1. Don't Panic - While you're certain Lachlaen will recognize you, you figure he'll have calmed down, and you can have a civil discussion about the misunderstanding which led to his chasing you away.

2. Confront - Here in the tavern, Lachlaen can't go around brandishing a bow and arrow at people. This is a good chance to finally confront him over the way he treated you in the woods - assuming the worst of a lost and vulnerable girl.

3. Leave Quickly - You imagine you'll nearly brush shoulders with him, but you really don't want to spend any time in the elf's presence and have him recount his interpretation of your first meeting.

 

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[K0mori]

1. Don't Panic - While you're certain Lachlaen will recognize you, you figure he'll have calmed down, and you can have a civil discussion about the misunderstanding which led to his chasing you away.

As he moves up to the bar, you keep your eyes low and the brim of your hat lower. Iona normally fends off unwanted attention whenever the travelers begin to compare you to the witch they heard about secondhand, but right now, she's too busy with housekeeping tasks to notice that her most recent customer isn't a local, and that he might be about to start trouble. You're aren't sure what to say, and so you wait as long as you can, and it's not until he's right up next to you that you begin to feel his eyes lingering on the back of your head, and even Ika looks up from her freshly-emptied drink in curiosity. Since you don't say anything, Ika does.

"Yez?" she asks expectantly, but you shake your head quickly to let her know not to get involved.

You finally turn to face the elf and say the only thing you can think to say. "Yeah... It's me."

"...Staying out of trouble?" he grumbles.

You nod, knowing that it's a much worse lie than he can fathom. "I live here, now," you say. "These people are kind."

Lachlaen seems frustrated and rolls his eyes at your reply, before sitting down and motioning for a pour. While Iona gets to work, he turns back to look at the way you're dressed. "So I guess you left your rags at home today?" he says, needling you.

"No, just over your fire. I came to this town wrapped in nothing but a towel. It's all I had left after you ran me off."

"You shouldn't have stolen from me," he dismisses you.

You sigh in annoyance, blinking your eyes, sore and dry from all the nights you've spent learning spellcraft. "I was protecting myself. I was naked, and you're a grown man I didn't know," you insist quietly in order to not cause a scene. Iona arrives and places Lachlaen's drink in front of him, finally noticing the intensity between you.

"Everything alright here?" she asks, pointedly.

Lachlaen scowls at you. "It is, and it isn't," he replies. "Iona, you've known me for years. You know I'm an honest man. Do you know this girl? Where she came from?" he asks.

Only now do you remember, in that terrifying moment beside the fire when he threatened you with his bow, you tried to tell him everything. He heard you say that you were a witch, and that you had killed someone. Given the news circulating around town right now, this is a very poor time for Lachlaen to visit.

Iona, thankfully, plays dumb and defuses the situation: "Yes, I know 'this girl.' This is Agranne of Rychten; she helps Jakom down at the stables. Have you heard about that witch in Zuklanar of the same name?" she asks.

The elf seems confused. "What? No...?"

"Lythrefang has a newly-awakened devil running around the countryside near Ryggander: a tabaxi of about the same age and build, who's killing people, attacking the church, and generally being a menace, while our Agranne - the poor thing - has been experiencing the worst case of mistaken identity I've ever even heard of," Iona explains, leaning into the comparison to your great surprise. You realize she must be trying to get ahead of whatever rumors others were likely to share with the hostile elf. "...When the other one started her spree, the damned witches thought our girl was the one. They drugged her up and tried to haul her off somewhere for an induction ritual."

By this point, Lachlaen seems highly uncomfortable with this new information. "So all those things you said..."

"I spent that whole night crying while the drugs were wearing off, thinking I had hurt someone," you lie again. "I'd be home right now if it were safe, but it's not, so I'm not going."

Lachlaen's anger completely evaporates from his body as he searches the expressions of the three of you for any trace of dishonesty. Finally, his demeanor changes completely and he relents. "I'm... I'm sorry. I obviously completely misunderstood the entire situation. But given your people's tendencies, I felt I had to remain on my guard. I mean, imagine if I had gotten the other one, after all."

1. Disrespect - "You'd be dead," you reply without hesitation.

2. Reconcile - "I don't want to think about it... So let's just try to get along." You mutter.

3. Appease - "Yeah, I get it," you reply, the words sour and painful. "But now you know."

 

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2. Reconcile - "I don't want to think about it... So let's just try to get along." You mutter.

Lachlaen nods, but still looks embarrassed.

Good, you think. Stop saying things about 'my people.'

"I like the hat, by the way," Lachlaen says after a minute. "I'm not used to walking around under the sun without the canopy over my head. I could use something like that."

"A friend gave it to me," you blandly reply. "I don't know where she got it from, but it's a good hat," you acknowledge. "...So, what brings you to town?"

Lachlaen takes a drink of his beer and chuckles. "Hunters. They're getting too close to my neck of the woods again."

Ika cocks her head. "How far away iz it? What direction?"

"A few hours north of here. They're killing deer, stripping as much meat as they can carry, and leaving the carcasses behind to rot," he explains sadly. "I was hoping I would find them here today, before they set off again."

Iona chimes in, "If they're bringing back that much meat, they're probably going to salt or smoke it. I doubt they'd go back for more for a while."

"Do you know them?" Lachlaen asks, hopefully.

"I think I might. A pair of men just moved to town - brothers, I think - but I don't know where they've settled."

Lachlaen shrugs. "Well, alright... At least that's something. Maybe I should just look around in town, and see if I can spot a smokehouse."

1. Offer to Help - You've got nothing else going on so far today, and this might be a good way to meet some people. "I'll help you look around," you say. "You've caught me on a rest day."

2. Follow - Ika leans over with a crooked smile and whispers to you, "he doezn't own hiz land. I think we zhould follow him and zee what happenz when he triez to tell them they can't hunt." A little mischief sounds fun right now.

3. Dissuade - You're getting annoyed with Lachlaen's insistence on living as if he lived in Sonnamille, where elves rule. "I would be careful, if I were you," you warn over the edge of your glass. "The woods belong to the crown; people can hunt if they please."

 

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