Epim looked at the scene before him. His enemy’s body laid on the ground, headless. Blood gushed out onto the grass, and the head lay to the side with its final expression of shock permanently etched on it. It seemed oddly familiar to him, but he could not remember why.

The scythe of twilight light felt heavy in his hand, and he willed it to disappear, which it did in an instant. He did not fully understand the mechanism to which the thing worked, but he understood that if he needed it, it would come.

He took a moment to take the scene in. He’d killed, he understood that. He didn’t believe he had a choice, but he thought that even if he did the scenario would end all the same. His eyes stuck to the severed head, and he was quite sure that the image would never leave him.

He’d meant his words in earnest. He hoped that the red robed man had a story to him, connections with others. It’d be too much of a shame.

He looked over to the bat-like creature against the tree, and noticed its eyes had opened, staring dazedly towards him. Before he could approach, the thing spoke.

“M-M-May I?” The voice escaped from its lips in a rasp, the damage to every part of its body taking quite a toll on it. It spoke with heavy and precise pronunciation.

Epim didn’t understand the question, but he responded all the same. “Sure?” The words left his lips quizzically, and he tilted his head unsure of what he was being asked for. It’d seem silly to ask for the right to die, and it seems even sillier to ask a question as vague as it did.

The creature moved its body, its bones could be heard creaking and its blood splattered against the ground from its open wounds. It moved primarily with its hands, gripping the ground in front of it and moving in long strides. As quickly as it could it neared Epim, and then its eyes focused on the body in front of him.

Without hesitation, it opened its mouth far wider than Epim thought was possible, baring its sharp fangs, and plunged its teeth into the body of the now deceased man. A terrible sucking and slurping could be heard, one akin to the sound the messiest of eaters would make.

“O-oh.” Epim’s eyes went wide in curiosity, and a slight disgust. He did not have a frame of reference for many things, but this still tested his understanding of what should be.

With each suck and slurp, he could see the body of the growing less feeble. The wounds on it began to close quickly, and its arms and legs pumped with muscle. And as it sucked away all it could, the man’s body quickly began to shrivel, and the spouting blood from his open neck simply stopped.

It was at this moment that Prose returned, stopping in the air the moment he came out into the clearing. He looked to Epim, and then the bat, and then Epim again, and then his eyes went back to the bat, crooking his head to the side. “Huh.” The sight is actually quite interesting to him, and he watches in silence.

The Shade came out of the forest shortly after, and it took no notice of the bat. It returned to Epim’s side, swaggering slightly in pride. It paid no attention to the bat.

Eventually, the bat had finished its meal. The body of the man now looked absolutely mummified. The body of the bat on the other hand, looked to be, for its kind, the absolute picture of health. It lifted its head from its meal, and took a deep satisfying breath. Its eyes turned to Epim, and it spoke, its voice no longer raspy, it was high pitched and it hit the ears in quite a comfortable way.

“Oh thank you thank you thank you! I was so afraid- you really don’t understand. The mercenaries would- oh- oh! Too awful to speak! But you, thank you! I, Bart the meager am in your debt for the rest of my life!”

Bart’s arms and hands were stanced in front of him, his legs comparatively short to the rest of him. His arms connected to his body through a webbing of wings, and his body curved to meet his face. His face was just like a bat with a tad more expression and movement allowed of him, and his eyes were small and black. His teeth curved in a brilliant smile, and his snout dripped slightly with blood from his meal.

Epim, never the one to be rude, instantly introduces himself and his companions to Bart.

“Wanderers, simple wanderers in the Bewitching woods? Fascinating, that’s not something you hear… ever! Only people with bad intentions come here, that’s the truth!”

Prose interjects. “Say, Bart, we were led here by a concession of… mice?” The word sounded right, but like most things recently he was unsure of the accuracy of his own understanding.

“Ah… Ah! They are the eyes of my lord! All the creatures of the day are. Ah… My lord! He saved me!” Bart puts his head to the ground, tears falling out his beady, black eyes.

Prose squints at this. “Eyes, huh? So someone’s watching us?” He scans the area around, looking for any evidence of stray mice or other animals. Strangely, there is none.

Bart lifts his head, and sighs. “Most likely not. There… is not much life left here anymore. Only a handful of sparrows, a few colonies of mice, and some insects that persevere. In the night there’s more, but even then… it’s not how it was in my parents' time.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Epim looks around, his face becoming quite sullen. “But it looks so vibrant. The tree’s look-”

Prose again interjects. “The tree’s are barely alive. I actually wanted to talk about that.” With a flip of his finger, a tree from around the clearing uproots itself and floats in the air to the shock of all but Prose. The entire group except prose looks in shock, the Shade particularly being entranced by the sight.

“I seem to have an odd ability. I’m able to control things with an extension of my mind. But, it seems to be limited. The more lifeforce something has, the harder it is. The more ingrained something is, the harder it is. I can’t lift the earth, and I couldn’t move the woman I fought even after death.”

“Incredible!” Epim speaks with awe. “But didn’t you shoot the woman away earlier? How could you have done that if you couldn’t even move her when she’s dead?”

Prose waves his hand, the tree plummeting to the ground. “That’s different. The wind curves around my wings, and my body to accentuate my flight. Think of it as a layer of wind around my body. I simply projected that layer towards her.” In Prose’s hand, a ball of air begins to form. “It’s useful for surprises, but if you’re especially brawny or on the lookout for it, it wouldn’t work.” To accentuate his point, he flicks the ball of air towards the Shade. It explodes on the thing's body, streams of air bursting off its body. The Shade looks quite pleased at this.

“If I could have controlled them, I could have stopped the encounter altogether. Alas, it seems I too am subject to facing the world as it is, not how I want it to be.” Prose sat in the air, his legs crossed.

“I’m actually curious. How’d you deal with your foe, Epim? I’d ask the Shade the same question but…” Prose side eyes the thing. Blood still drips off its hands, and the crack in its exoskeleton is still there, though healing at a shocking rate. “I can surmise.”

Epim nods. And in his right hand this time the scythe appears. He slightly parts his cloak, revealing the knife at his side as well. “I can’t really explain any of this, but everything I have on me and I’m wearing came in handy. The cloak itself is probably the only reason I’m alive. That and the ring.”

Prose looks at the scythe, a hint of amusement flashing through his eyes. “You're full of surprises huh?”

“Not really, no. I think you’ve seen everything I am now.” Epim laughs as the scythe in his hand disappears instantaneously.

Bart had his mouth open in amazement, staring at the three and fully taking in the picture now. The Shade was odd but so were most things, so it did not come across as especially odd. But the scythe of Epim, and the seeming absolute control over the environment Prose had was beyond anything it could comprehend.

“Who… Are you fellows, exactly?” A tremor ran through his voice.

“I’m not really sure we-” Epim looks to the Shade quickly. “I’m not sure Prose or I really understand the answer. We’re just… wanderers.” The word stills on his lips for a moment, bringing a melancholy of feeling over him.

“It’s true, we’re really just a group by chance. Can’t tell you much about anything else.” Prose shrugged. “Maybe ask the Shade, he might have some answers.” This made him chuckle.

Bart looks to the Shade, understanding that Prose was speaking in jest. Still, his eyes examined the figure and only now fully took in the scale of it. It stood tall, and there was no doubt in Bart’s mind the destruction it could unleash. His head ran with thoughts, and then one particular came to him.

Bart places his head on the ground, in a bowing fashion. Words spill out from his mouth rapidly.

“I’ve just met you three, and I have no right, no right! You are my saviors, and kindness is oh so rare. But… My people are in need. Please, PLEASE! Help us, I will give my very life if it's needed! The land is dying, and the mercenaries are relentless. Our lord has closed his doors, and we are on the brink. Sirs… please!”

Epim looks to Prose, and then the Shade. Prose places a hand on his chin, thinking. The Shade stares absentmindedly around. The silence continues for a while, Epim’s face looks conflicted.

“Well, I think it sounds interesting. But you should know something, Bart.” Prose takes the initiative.

“We are not killers by trade, so we can not solve your issue of mercenaries. We are not botanists, we can’t solve the ails of the forest. Messiahs? Please, of course none of us fit that description, we can not give your people the life they are looking for.”

Epim’s head perks up, once again, Prose’s words tug at his heart. Bart’s face becomes sullen on the ground.

“And think carefully now, of what that means. And then, ask again. What is it that you want from us travelers three whose only goal is to understand?”

Epim feels a weight lift off his chest, and looks to Bart. The Shade too, looks with expectant eyes. Even it understands.

Bart lifts his head, looking quite mystified. The words of the fairy struck him, and he paused before speaking.

“Please then, come with us and see my people. Speak with them and laugh, and think, and see how we live. Then speak with my lord, and tell him of the things you saw. And ask what he sees. And then…” Although Bart could not completely understand why, tears began to fall from his eyes.

“Please, make your decision then. If we are worthy of help, if you can help, if you want to wander more. That’s all we will ever want from you.”

A smile rose to Epim’s lip, and Prose nodded. The Shade stretched its arms. Epim spoke, his voice cheerful. “Well let’s go then, to your home!”

Thus, the quartet set off. Epim, a heart full of curiosity. Prose, a mind filled with far too many things to describe, the Shade who simply enjoyed the presence of its companions, and Bart who now had a vague hope for the future.