“You blasted geezer!” The accusation sounded out in the previously near quiet woods. It had the kind of voice you might expect from a wizened old woman, but with an airy and musical quality to it. “If I hadn’t already washed your clothes for the morning, I would have dragged you over to the creek to bash you about the rocks and wrung you out too!”

The difference between the voice, words, and the tone it was spoken in made for quite the contradiction!

My eyebrows rose comically with the violent imagery those words brought to mind while another smile tugged at my lips. This certainly sounded interesting!

“Get off my back you old crone!” Now a male voice filled with the sound of weary wisdom and patience echoed out. “How was I to know that the tarts were to be saved for later?! It’s not like you put a sign on them saying such! Besides, I was hungry!”

Okay, maybe not so much patient. A bemused chuckle escaped my lips at this sound of comfortable bickering. They certainly sounded like an old married couple who had lived quite the entertaining life, likely having experienced the many vicissitudes of time.

Silence suddenly pervaded the surroundings, as if my chuckle had broken an unspoken taboo of sorts. A snap of branches behind me made me whirl about with my staff at the ready to face whatever may be.

What I saw truly put me off kilter. An aged woman, appearing of slightly Indian descent with long wispy black hair and trace silver appeared before me. That was where her earthen origins ended. Her magical origins revealed themselves in the form of a double pair of fairy or veiny dragonfly like wings behind her back. Additionally, a gnarled staff topped with a vivid green stone lay gripped in her hand.

Upon catching her gaze, I was entranced by the ever-changing color of her eyes, which appeared alight with hidden knowledge and crafty secrets.

“Well!” She called out indignantly. “Are you going to just stand there all day, or join us for some tarts?! I had been expecting your arrival for some time now.” The light tone of her rebuke got me reoriented somewhat as I seemed to absorb the incredulousness of the situation, with a faltering stride.

“Sure!?” I replied with hesitant enthusiasm. The old lady took the lead as she walked past me towards the small cottage by the creek. I was bewildered at how she was able to make her voice come from the little house in the distance and then suddenly showing up in the opposite direction, behind me.

In addition to this, a nagging thought crossed my mind at her recent words. I had been expected?!

Shaking my head and chalking it up to weird magic, I bravely followed behind the elderly lady to her humble looking home. My concern faded into the background as I was effectively immortal, and she seemed nice.

Pausing at the door, she opened it for me before ushering me inside. I saw a doormat at the entryway, prompting me to scuff my shoes on it very well before entering. A ghost of a smile crossed the old woman’s face as I did that.

As she let the door close behind the two of us, she spoke up. “I prepared some tarts for you to enjoy, but. . .” She cast a scathing glance at the back of a rocking chair, one whose inhabitant remained hidden from view, before finishing with “but there will now be fewer than intended due to someone’s inability to rein in his appetite.”

A heavily wrinkled hand reached out from the hidden confines of the chair. The assumed grandfatherly old cuss then stood up, turned, and approached me. His visage was that of a man brought low and bent with age with several limp yet furry tails trailing behind him. He looked remarkably like how I’d envision the demi-fox patrol leader whom I had met during my dungeon exploration. That is, if you added several tails to his rear and a century or two in age.

Earlier, outside the cottage, I didn’t feel inclined to do so, but now, inside their home, I felt an urge to reach out my hand to introduce myself. “Hi I’m. . .”

“Oh, we know who you are.” The old woman interrupted with a humored smile. “Apprentice Andrew Storm, the protégé of Apothecary Victoria and Councilman Monroe.” Here eyes changed color as she continued. “You must congratulate them for me as they finally tied the. . .” *Ahem* “Um never mind.” She added in a lowered tone.

Her eyes then changed color once again as she continued. “You are a Traveler from Missouri USA, legal last name of Mattherson. Your current employment is at a local nursing home as an aid, and your degree of study is. . .”

“That is enough Inaaya!” The sharp voice of her husband cut her off mid speech. “I feel you’ve proven your point and also scared the young man a bit.”

I felt a veritable shock go through me at this elderly woman’s unerring statements. My mouth went dry and I couldn’t figure out what to say.

“Oh dear!” The silver haired woman lowered her multicolored eyes in embarrassment. “I am sorry. It is part of my gift and ability to see beyond and . . .” She let he voice fade away as if not sure how to further explain herself as her hands fidgeted.

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There was an awkward silence which I felt had grown to be a bit less welcoming since my arrival. I considered beating a polite retreat to the outer woods, but was interrupted mid thought.

“Here, have a tart.” The old fox man thrust a wooden plate holding a delectably smelling pastry of sorts under my nose.

The scent alone brought back memories of my own grandmothers cooking. Nostalgia swept through me, easing much of the growing tension from within. After that first taste of the tart like pastry, I could already feel my fight or flight reflex calming down and allowing me to contemplate what just happened. As my thoughts continued to churn in silence, my mouth grew a little dry from the flaky dessert I was indulging in.

Without even being asked, I was silently offered a glass of water which I gladly took and downed. After such, I felt I was able to wet my lips and ready enough to speak, if haltingly. “May. . . may I ask you for your names?”

With a musical laugh the old lady replied. “I shall dispense with our titles, but you may call me Inaaya, or Grams if you prefer, and this,” She said pointing to the fox man, “is Francisi, my husband. Or Frank as I often call him.”

*Groan. . .* I could hear the disgruntlement of the old man roll off of him in a wave. I was about mid laugh when suddenly my mind experienced an enlightening moment.

Thinking back since I first encountered Inaaya outside of the cottage, I hadn’t felt a single emotion from either of them other than what was audibly heard in their tone and seen through their actions. Already I was wigged out by how much they knew about me, but additionally this proved that they were likely close to, or possibly even above the power level of my master.

Caution stole over me as I considered what this meeting might entail, as it appeared fully intentional by their words and actions.

“Good.” The old woman said as she observed me making various mental connections. “You appear to have come to the right conclusion. We. . .” She said pointing to the old man and herself. “Are here to give you a little push in the right direction for solving your problems. In addition, we happened to time our arrival to deal with a fun little event. I dare say that it will be quite exciting!” Delight flashed in her multi-colored eyes as I could almost visibly see the many plans she had circling within them.

The honest relief and hope which filled me was soon pushed aside by the intense curiosity at her declaration. I was still filled with a fair amount of suspicion regarding the overall situation to begin with, but now, this lady was talking about some event?

My usual method of reminding myself that this was a virtual reality world, and that death and dismemberment was not permanent, felt particularly unsatisfying and not nearly as comforting this time.

This odd woman and her husband had already proven themselves to be knowledgeable eccentrics by this point. This was done especially with the disclosure of overly deep information which they had of my personal life. I felt a very real threat hovering over me. . .

And yet, I believed it would likely be very useful to hear them out and consider their advice at this point. Besides, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intensely curious regarding what kind of event could get such an odd couple up in arms and excited about it.

Allowing my eyes to drink in more deeply the appearances of the elderly couple, I focused my newly budding spacial senses on reaching out a small distance into the home around me. Other than the verification that everything was real, the overall feedback I received was a kind of cozy homeliness. This was a place to leave ones worries at the door, settle in with a cup of cider, and listen to stories of your grandparents by the fire. This was not a place to doubt others.

Besides, I recalled how I had been greatly enhanced by all the previous elemental assimilations, experiencing only moderate and transitory side effects as I adapted. Here and now, I had been brought low by the esoteric elements of space, life, and death. I didn’t even know where to start in adapting to and overcoming these new effects. It was obvious to me, that despite my preference to figure things out on my own, I would need help with this debilitating change.

Despite being highly experienced in worldly and magical matters, neither of my masters nor the eccentric turtle lady Gertrude, were familiar with my current affliction. As such, they could offer little aid. But these strangers, who knew too much about me, were offering their aid in something I desperately needed help with. . .

Letting go of my pride and hesitation, I bowed my head in gratitude, lightly holding out my hands to either side of me in open supplication, I simply asked. “Please teach me.”

A moment of silence passed as I was being observed and evaluated more carefully by the couple.

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“He’s got good sense at least.” Frank finally commented, before returning to his rocking chair. As he settled into the cushy seat he added, “Do what you will with him, and call me if you need anything.” The still air following his statement seemed to punctuate the finality of his words.

I swallowed in apprehension, wondering what was next as his wife appeared to be distracted by something only she could see.

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“Well!” Inaaya exclaimed excitedly, breaking the silence and her moment of quiet distraction. “You heard the old codger! Let’s get to it.” Taking the lead once again, she led me to the other side of her cottage and out the door.

Upon exiting through the back, the scene which met my eyes completely threw me off. It was a veritable battle field!

Confusion swept over me as I certainly did not see anything hinting at such a display when entering their small home before!

It was admittedly an inactive battle field. I determined this, seeing as there were currently no combatants or individuals of any kind around us. Based on the scale of it and the many old fashioned war machines present, I strongly felt that whatever upcoming battle they had in mind, this field was most definitely outside of my scope of capability!

Siege weapons of mostly two types yet multiple sizes littered a large part of her back yard and beyond. Spiked picket lines were set up and angled outward in a V shape as if to funnel whatever was coming to her very home. The most notable of weapons were what looked like massive spear launchers or ballista as I believe they were called, and catapults. A sizeable number of head sized rocks soaking in some viscous liquid lay beside the catapults.

I finally had to ask the nagging question. “Uh . . . when did all of this get here?”

Inaaya’s aged lips twitched in obvious humor. “You should not ask questions to which you don’t want the answers to.”

But I did want to know!

“Here”, she called out to me. “We are going to do a trial run on one of the catapults and ballista to make sure you’ve got the hang of it.”

I honesty had no idea how such work might help me with treating my new mental infirmity, but it wasn’t like I had any other options to seek out at this time. Besides, little was bothering my psyche right now, and I was becoming intensely curious to see where this was all going!

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I followed her careful instructions regarding where to crank things, where the release was at, and how to aim as much as such ancient technology would allow. We first tried out a rock that wasn’t soaked in the viscous liquid, placing it in the spoon part of the catapult. Then, with her instructions, I pulled the lever. *Phawoooop!* The rope snapped hard and the stone was jerked into the air, sailing over the tree-line only to disappear far into the distance.

I wasn’t sure if I heard anything from the fall as it nearly disappeared from view. I could only suspend my curiosity and note that it was likely very far. Before I could consider asking her about such, Inaaya had me re-crank back the contraption and secure it in place for the next load. We then loaded another rock and she had me try out the ballista.

Again, I was given a crash course on loading and triggering the mechanism. *Whoosh!* The mechanical sound of suddenly released gears was followed near instantly by a *Chrghg!* as the overly large bolt slammed into a tree several meters away. It only got stopped after pushing though about three quarters of its length out the other end. I stared openmouthed back and forth several times from the war machine and its resulting impact in the at least one-meter-thick tree.

Following this practice, she asked that I load up and secure all of the ballista and catapults in preparation for the impending battle. Casting my gaze about at the complete silence of the field, I suddenly had to wonder if she was really all there in the head.

Was she going to teleport in a goblin incursion? Because I saw no sign of one in the distance. In any case, I decided it was better to see where things led rather than to dig in my heels and demand immediate answers.