“I see you,”
I whispered as my hand slowly reached forward to the child, the child that held my possession in its arms. It had squeezed itself in between the space of two buildings. Unfortunately for it, this space was a dead end and he was just within my reach if I strained myself enough. I could see his globe like eyes watching me in horror and fear. He should fear greatly if he doesn't give me what is mine quite soon. I stretched my arm as far as I could, but I only came to slightly touch the cloth on his arm. I cursed. Then I heard a voice behind me.
"Baba, I got a pitchfork."
"Now what am I to do with a pitchfork, blockhead? Stab him to death?! Find me something with a hook! Or better yet, go find the dwarf and get him here." I stood strait looking down the space in between.
"I will get you, child. Pray it will be sooner than later." I could see his tears. I laughed quietly and held his eyes with mine.
"Baba, I got the dwarf." I turned around the see the blockhead for brute carrying the dwarf over his shoulder.
"Put him down! And you my small grown friend," I grabbed the dwarfs arm on his way down to the ground.
"Go and get what is mine. Preferably yesterday." The dwarf did nothing more than slightly look at me once and then he hurried to the doomed child. I grew giddy; I could already feel myself holding it.
"Hurry, hurry," I whispered to none other than myself. While I grew restless the dwarf was in full fight to drag the child into the light. It didn't take long until the child was thrown before my feet. But the child's arms were empty.
"My treasure," I turned towards the dwarf that silently held up a transparent orb towards me. I grabbed it, fast but firmly. I would die if it broke after all the blood and filth I had to walk through to get it.
"Baba, wha-"
"Shut up, numb head! I have it. I have it!" I held the transparent orb with both my hands. I could see my hands through it, and the ground beyond them. I felt a slight throb in my head.
"You're dismissed," I said. The dwarf disappeared. I sighed when I saw the brute scratch his head.
"Yes?"
"Baba, what of the kid? And we killed villagers, what do now?" He stomped with his feet before he sat down causing a small quake. I looked at the wonder in my hand for a good 5 minutes before I cared to answer.
"Hang it with the others, give him the best spot available."
"Baba, yes!" The brute grabbed the child and stormed off. The child must have been a mute; I never heard it cry even once. I stroke the orb with my fingers, wondering if it was glass or crystal. I lifted it up towards my eyes, and it looked like it was a hollow space in the middle. I was ecstatic, but I locked it inside. There is a time and place for everything. I pulled up a cloth from my shoulder bag, wrapped up the orb and down the bag it went. To comfort my paranoia I had created a pickpocket-proof bag.
I turned towards the village I had previously ignored. Most buildings were burning, carrying smoke and ash everywhere. Those corpses not in a pile burning, hanged from the trees outspread all around. My crew either plundered what could be plundered or helped hang those not already hanging. A hagraven noticed I was no longer preoccupied with my own business. She shuffled closer, her back crooked and head lowered.
"Our comrades are being buried in the woods outside the village. The ground inside is no good." I nodded.
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"Good, good. When the burial is finished and the ritual done, we will return home." To my answer the hagraven shook her crocked frame and wandered off to the burial, I assumed. I watch my surroundings for some time more before I lifted up from the ground one of her ink black feathers that had come loose. I held it close to my mouth and whispered secrets, and then I lit it aflame. The feather fed brown harmless flames. I carried it to the closest house and gently put it into the burning fire. The sound of the crackling fire dampened and the color turned from red to brown. The hot air cooled and the smoke cleared. Several of my crew noticed the changing fire and our newest members barked in alarm while those who had seen such a act before wrapped up their business and told the others to shut up. When the brown fire reached all over the former village my whole crew was ready to leave. I looked over everyone. None of us were clean and our armor was well-worn. My little band of misfits.
"Have our comrades been burried?" I asked nobody in particular.
"They have, Baba." Their voices were so synchronized it sounded like a choir. I nodded.
"Are everyone accounted for?"
"We are, Baba." I nodded again while sweeping my eyes over everyone counting them, just to be on the safe side. My next words made everyone shout with joy.
"This time... Our road leads home!"
After their outburst we took our bags and drifted into the forest. Nobody in particular was in the lead; we all knew where home was. We had traveled on many different roads together; those in front knew how fast they could walk without leaving the rest behind, and those in the back knew how slow they could walk before becoming a burden. I always walked in the middle when I did not show the way; I preferred to have equal watch over the front and back. Our walk out of the forest was merry and undisturbed. We made a lot of noise so nobody bothered to hunt the wildlife. During the whole day we walk out of there I listened to my crew talking among themselves. Most spoke of home and what they would do when they get there, others spoke of past roads and plunder, or spun tales everyone knew weren’t true but we enjoyed them for what they were, stories. Some simply talked about tonight’s dinner. It was a good day and when we camped for the night at the edge of the woods, all were content.
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Earlier that day when we were still in the act of ransacking the village, three people were looking over us from some place higher up and away. They were dressed in a way that made them invisible in the environment to untrained eyes. All three of them had each a spying glass to their eyes, and all three felt different about our presence in the village. One of the three complained in a whispering voice:
“’This will be an easy scouting mission,’ he said. ‘You wanted a break, here you have one,’ he said. ‘All you have to do is to follow and watch. Nothing more or less,’ he said!” The one shifted slightly where he stood.
“But hey, boss! You forgot to mention that we would actually find the disturbance and that they are in the middle of burning down a forest village! Not to mention I can even see some… by all holy spirits above! A goddamn hagraven!” He almost dropped his spyglass.
“Be quiet, or do you want them to notice you?” This voice was much younger than the previous, and much quieter. “That’s not only one hagraven, I’ve seen two at most at the same time, I’m guessing there are three. However, I do not see a lot of witches. Three hagravens together should have a huge amount of followers.”
“Unless it is the hagravens’ that are following.” The first shivered at his own words, the younger gasped. Hagravens were cruel in nature and did not submit easily, even then they would refuse given orders and turn violent. To have three follow us in peace was extraordinary in their eyes.
“Hawk, your expertise, please.” The first addressed the third that had yet to speak. The third sighed once as he slowly put away his spyglass.
“Five hagravens,” he grunted and laid down on the ground. “We will stay put until they leave, then report to the captain.” The other two silently agreed but did not join the third as he rested but kept watching the dying village bellow. While their spyglasses were of quality, they were still too far away from the village to see all the details. They saw the hanging corpses, though. The first muttered curses under his breath while the second watched silently with a pained expression. None of them saw me as I was ordering my crew around, or chasing the child. Nor did they see my precious orb before I hid it in my bag. The first did see me pick up the feather from the ground when everything had calmed down. He did not see the actual feather. He did not see me whisper. He did see me walk towards a burning house. He did see the burning flames turn brown. And then he cursed loudly, alarming the other two.
“Brown flames,” he whispered, and before he had finished the third was on his feet again with his spyglass to the eye.
“Forget the captain, Hawk. The general will want to hear this.”
“Even more reason to lay low and not get caught. They don’t look attentive to their surroundings but I would rather be in the land of the living than the realm of the dead.” Hawk did not grunt this time, his voice was aged but a smooth whisper. We left without knowing they were ever there.