Frazier’s eyes fluttered open, the darkness filled his vision. Shimmering splotches of white drifted above him like living stars. The white shapes moved away from him until they to were devoured by the darkness. Where was he? What was this? He tried to move, but all he could do was strain his arms for a split second before allowing them to droop down. He couldn’t be bothered to move, why should he? It felt better just to float there, to allow everything to move away from him while he rested. Or was he moving away from them? It didn’t matter, perhaps he should just close his eyes, just for a moment.
That’s when he felt it, it felt sleek at first, but also slimy and viscous. It wrapped around his left leg twice over before moving to his right leg, when it finished there, it tightened. Two more sleek and viscous substances wrapped around his arms, tightening his appendages in their grasp. He felt as if it should hurt, some primal thing in his mind pleading with him to flee, to attempt to free himself and escape, he wanted to struggle, but he was just too tired. From the darkness in front of him Frazier could make out a shape coming into view, a different kind of dark, was it black? Or just a dark grey? At first, it looked human, but as it neared him he realized it had the face of a horse, a funny-looking horse, it was smiling, its mouth stretched into an abnormally human grin, sharp canines and all. Frazier couldn’t help but let out one last chuckle before the creature opened its mouth to greet him, and with that, he allowed his eyes to rest.
“HEAR ME, PEOPLE! Turn your backs on your old, corrupt ways! Do you not see? The Fea, the hags, the demons! They only exist because you allow them! Turn your back on the magicks of your ancestors and embrace the future! If not for yourself, for your children!”
Frazier’s eyes burst open to the loud booming voice, the white daylight peaking through his curtains and obscuring his vision. The young man picked himself up and glared out the window, and there he stood on his crate. Same as yesterday and the day before, the red-cloaked preacher, a thin, long-faced man, with a near triangular chin. The younger man next to him didn’t have the same privilege to stand on a nice crate above everyone else. He was resigned to getting his long white cloak covered in dark brown mud and green manure. He couldn’t feel too bad for the younger man though, he was just as bad if not worse. He ran from person to person, fishermen heading to the docs, sons of farmers pulling carts of vegetables and salted meats to the market, shoving the same papers into their faces. It was a shame too, Frazier remembered when the young man first arrived at their island with his mentor, he looked so lively and comely then, but now he was shivering, dirty, and partially covered in bird droppings. The meat was lost from his bones and the color drained from his freckled face. And for what? Because some other mainlanders had a grand message that all of the people of the world needed to hear. Well, the people of the world could stay off of his island.
It only took a few minutes a few minutes for Frazier to throw on his clothes for the day. Garments of black wool breeches and a black wool sweater. He took one last look out his window, sunlight was peaking through yes, but the sky was still a grey canvas, and for that reason, he decided it was best to wear his raincoat to be safe. The sky was grey, yes, but the mood of the village was anything but. Children ran through the streets with wide, gap-toothed smiles plastered across their faces. Susanne was half barefoot, chasing a sheepdog down the muddy road, her missing shoe trapped in the black and white dog’s mouth. Frazier couldn’t help but chuckle at her misfortune before beginning his walk to the market square.
“THERE! SEE THERE, GOOD PEOPLE! A COLLABORATOR OF EVIL!” Frazier turned just in time to see the triangular-chinned man stretch a pale and pointy finger in his direction, before hissing out the rest of his accusations. “Deny his coin, for he shall use your fish and beets to feed the witch, the evil monster who has turned her back on man, and has chosen to crawl into bed with the malicious forces of the sea and wilds. She who claims to see the future, she who speaks to the fairy and demons of your good island.” Frazier sighed in annoyance, this wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.
“Granny Albe is a sweet old lady. I understand you want her to die because you’re scared of old ladies, but all you need do is wait and she’ll pass in her sleep.” The man’s face turned almost as red as his crimson cloak. Before the man could respond Frazier was already on his way. “Later Red Cloak!” He called out without turning his head to glance at the reddening individual.
“MY NAME IS NOT RED CLOAK!” He shouted in a shrill, high-pitched screech. “I AM BROTHER Si-!”
“Sorry! I can’t hear you over the coin in my fat purse! I’ll be sure to buy Granny Albe some spices to go with her stew!” The Red Cloak’s voice faded out the further Frazier found himself from him.
The market itself was as uneventful as the walk there, a camp of tarps and carts. Sons and daughters selling wool from their parent’s flocks, fishermen showing off their catch from the morning or night before, some farmers had set up, but most were still pouring on horse-pulled wagons. Frazier didn’t need to search for more than thirty seconds to find his favorite stands, by the time he had reached Ari’s spice stand he had already purchased a hefty trout and some nice beets.
“Are you sure you can afford any of this?” The man who asked him was Edd, a large burley man who took pride in collecting spices from on and off their little island.
Trading vessels from down south didn’t visit this glorified rock, but the other more notable islands were often frequented. Most spices in his selection were common enough and easy to find on the island if you searched well enough, but not this, Frazier wanted something new, something unique, black pepper.
“Yes Edd, I’m sure I can afford it.” Frazier sneered, that was a half-truth at the very least. He had spent most of his copper mares and silver stallions, and he hasn’t even seen a golden unicorn for a year now. All Frazier had left were ten silver mares and fifteen zinc foals, though he did have something Edd would want.
“Right sure, of course, you can. Listen, because I’m in a good move today I’ll let you move along, but please leave. You’re scaring off the customers who’ll actually be able to pay. Oh, they’re rare, but they’re here.” His beady eyes darted around as his nose twitched as if he was sniffing out the coin in people’s purses and pouches.
“Able to pay? Edd, you’ve lived here just as long as me, no one here can afford your spices.” Frazier slammed his fists on the counter.
“Oh yes they can, just fourteen days ago, Mrs. Wilks bought up a nice batch of Nutmeg.” He punctuated that with a sly, prideful smirk. Though his eyes were more irritated than prideful, a twitch being all the indication he needed.
“That was a wedding gift for her son! We both know that hardly counts.” He leaned in, Edd doing the same. The two were so close to each other that Frazier could smell the merchant’s wine-tainted breath. And with that, the fisherman gave a slight wiggle, and out from his coat pocket fell something that he had been saving for a situation just like this. A simple pouch, it wasn’t much to look at, well until the contents came spilling out. Said contents were bright yellow flakes and grain, though one wouldn’t be faulted for thinking they were gems from the way Edd was gawking at them.
“Is-is that-!” The man’s mouth was agape as he leaned down to get a better look. No sooner than that did Frazier scoop up the pouch along with its contents. And he took the bait.
“It’s nothing! Just a gift for Susanne, you know, something to soften her up, so she would be a bit more inclined to go on a lovely night out with me. And to cap off our night we’d have a lovely dinner for two, and maybe something else.” That lie actually hurt him, a date with Susanne sounded like a nightmare, and he hardly trusted her to cook for him, no he much preferred food he prepared himself. She wasn’t as annoying as most of the people on the island or anything, he just wasn’t interested.
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“Where did you find it? This is lemon pepper, not even I have the prestige to trade such fine spices.” Edd hissed at him, his voice a mixture of intrigue and confusion, and his face soon grew pink with irritation.
“I found it,” Frazier replied with a smug grin.
“You stole it,” Edd responded, his eyes narrowing, and his lips tightening as his eyes darted down to the pouch.
“Whichever way I got it, you didn’t see it, and even if you did, you can’t prove I did anything.” Frazier’s smile was tight-lipped and self-satisfied, Edd’s face however was turning from pink to red. Though it suddenly began to lighten up again, relaxing and becoming kinder, well as kind as a face like his could look.
“I apologize for my rude accusations Frazier, please accept my most humble apologies. But I must tell you, as a merchant, I have to say that those dirty yellow peppers might as well be ginger or dried beetroot when compared to the palate-pleasing festival for your tongue known as black pepper. Tell you what, I’ll take that off your hands, and I’m sure Susanne will be swooning over you when you show her this, it’ll make any meal she makes for you perfect. Who knows, maybe this will be the night you finally consider settling down.” Edd’s mouth was almost watering as he spoke. Frazier considered the offer for a moment, before giving his own proposition.
“Black pepper and lemon pepper, with half a pouch’s worth of salt.” Edd paused at Frazier’s proposition, he curled his hand into a fist before straining a wider smile.
“De-dee- DEAL!” And with that, the two shook hands and exchanged their goods. All without spending a single coin. And to think, all he had to do was take some ground-up ginger, dye it yellow, and add a bit of salt for any future buyers. His generous gift to them. All that was left now was to make his way to Granny Albe, the hag wasn’t his grandmother in truth but she had always been there for him, this was the least he could do for her.
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By the time Frazier was halfway to the old woman’s cottage, a drizzle was falling from the grey sky. Though it seemed to become heavier the closer he got. Still, it made no difference to him. The woman was isolated from the rest of the island, she lived in a humble little cottage deep in the forest, a secluded little area where children never went unless they wanted to impress their friends. The adults hardly came here either, even before the Red Cloaks came to their little rock off the coast of some greater continent, the people on this little rock had always been afraid of Albe. One man had loved her once he had heard, but that must’ve been ninety years ago now. To think, she was the oldest person on this island, and everyone was still weary of a gentle old crone. Scary? Sometimes, but she was never violent, she only looked into fires, made strange potions, claimed to see the future, and spoke to the occasional oddly shaped tree. Now of course there have been dangerous witches on other islands, but never on this one, never on Greystone. Frazier chuckled when he thought of his home’s name, was everything about this place so dreary?
By the time he reached the secluded corner of nature Albe called home, the drizzle had turned into rain, and the light grey of the sky had turned darker. Though he was never sure if it was due to his somber location, or if he had just taken that long to reach her. The cottage was the same old place he had remembered, quaint, eerie, covered in moss and mildew, half wood, and half crumbling stone. Frazier remembered the first time he had met her, the first time he had seen her home was also the first time he entered it. She had saved him from drowning. Frazier knew that just over the small hill, and past the overgrowth was a small beach, the body of water next to it wasn’t the ocean, but instead a medium-sized lake that led to the ocean when the rain level was high enough. If she hadn’t been there, he would’ve been dragged out to see all of those years ago. Who would relieve pompous merchants of their supply then?
A short walk later, I found myself knocking on the decrepit door of her dying animal of a home. The rotting wood shook, and a small piece sloshed off of the corner into a splintered mush of green and black. Frazier took a careful step away from it as if he subconsciously believe such a thing could spring to life at any moment. He heard scuffling before the door finally opened for him, and there she was. Two feet shorter than him, wild greying hair with hints of red streaks and curls still sprouting through. Her face was pale and mushy, with every visible inch of her skin covered in wrinkles.
“You’re just on time,” she stared up at him, her voice was near monotone, but there was a cheerful glimmer in her eyes. “And this old nose smells trout and… why, where did a boy like you get black pepper? I haven’t had such a fine thing to grace my taste buds in eighty years.”
“It was a gift for my good behavior.” Frazier was sure she wouldn’t have cared if he had stolen it from Edd, she had never truly cared about strangers. When she had dragged him from the sea, one thing she had said always peeked back into his mind. ‘it’s not your time yet boy, not yet, not for a good while.’ The way she had said it made him unsure if she was joyful or sad, but that was everything she said, a strange quirk of hers. “I’ll start a fire, you have dry wood in here this time right granny?” She smacked her gums together before giving a sweet smile.
“Always boy, always.” She pointed to the usual corner where she kept her wood, and there it was. He had asked her where she got it from before, as she was hardly strong enough to chop wood, but her only response was. “The mother of Spring provides, in life she lays her children down, and in slumber, she makes herself vulnerable.” He hadn't asked again after that.
It didn't take much for the pair to prepare a stew in her smaller cauldron. By the time they had finished the heavy drizzle turned into heavy rain, and soon thunder followed crackling and roaring outside, Frazier had always expected the hobble to be gone by the next day whenever a storm hit, but it always stood, unaffected by weathering and lightning. The spices added a unique kick to the stew. Frazier looked over the bubbling brown liquid, the light from a larger fire next to the one they used to prepare the meal lit the cottage up with orange light. Albe hadn't eaten much before she began to stare into the dancing crackles. Her eyes were empty, lost in thought.
"You should leave, boy…." She said with a cold sharp tongue.
"Oh come on-!" He couldn't help but chuckle a bit, but her dark eyes were all too serious. "Did I say, something granny? If I did, just tell me-."
"Just get out!",” his heart sank a bit after that, but he didn’t want to argue with her, there was no reason to. Before Frazier left, the old woman called out to him one last time.
“It wasn’t your time then boy!” Her voice was strained and shrill, a trace of pain was in her voice when she said that. In all of the years in which he had known her, she never once showed such anguish. All he could think of when he left was what he had done, the thought echoed in his mind before he was brought back to reality by a crash of thunder.
Frazier had pulled his hood over his head, though it did little to keep the sharp rain from his eyes. Like a flurry of pebbles, it seemed less like rain, and more like an onslaught. The distant lightning assisted him in navigating his way through the trees and undergrowth. Every bright blue flash showed him more of his surroundings, but in one flash, just on top of the hill, he saw something that didn’t quite belong. Small in stature, the individual was distinguished by his frightened look, handsome features, and deep crimson cloak.
Their eyes locked for a moment, and for a moment too long the red-cloaked foreigner flinched, allowing Frazier to climb up the hill, rush him and pin him against a tree. “Why are you here?” He hissed, “did you follow me? Is your boss here too? He pressed the other man’s wrist into the rough bark behind him, his hand reached upwards towards his neck. The other man wheezed and gasped, stuttering and sputtering incoherently before his eyes bulged from his sockets as he raised his arm to point past his assailant. "What-?"
When Frazier turned his head to see what he had been pointing at, his heart sank. A tall silhouette stood past the base of the hill, alone on the patch of sand he called a beach. With a bright flash of blue and white and a roar of thunder, the silhouette revealed itself to be a pale woman? Man? He wasn't quite sure, their features were soft and their hair was long, beautiful, and black, but they were bare, not a single article of clothing on their body, their shoulders were broad and their chest flat. They were almost beautiful, except for one thing that stood out, one thing no man could ignore, their eyes. The lone figures' eyes were deep and black, even from a distance their eyes echoed the abyss. The same abyss that dragged men and ships alike into its unknown depth. The light from the lighting faded, only for another blue-white streak to whip across the sky, its light revealed the figure once more. They were taller, and blacker, their soft features hardened and their mouth contorted into a malformed smile, white fangs clear as the moonlight. The light faded once more, and once more did the lightning illuminate the figure. Their stomach had been opened up to reveal a black liquid pouring from them, along with shriveled and long decaying guts and entrails. A long black shape slithered from out of the entrails, a living shadow with eyes blacker than its flesh. Like a spider emerging from a crack in the wall, it allowed its sable limbs to bend and contort unnaturally before pushing themselves into the flesh and allowing their owner to pull itself out of its vessel. The shape wasn't that of a serpent, no, it reminded him of a horse. Yet it wasn't, the creature slowly raised its head, and it'd eyes locked onto his. The long face opened its mouth and revealed rows of sharp glimmering canines, inky drool pouring from it, as it gaped open. The light faded, leaving nothing but utter darkness, emptiness, and stillness. Then a shrill cry cut through said darkness, an unholy shriek filling the darkness, it continued long and without interruption, penetrating his ears and scraping at his soul before the demonic claws of its voice penetrated the recesses of his mind. He was back underwater, sinking, drowning, being dragged under by something, those eyes, no, those eyes, empty, soulless, malignant. Bile climbed up his throat and dribbled from his lips down his chin.
Without thinking, Frazier grasped the red cloak’s collar and threw him to the ground between him and the creature. He had to get away, to leave, to be home, to be in bed, to be anywhere but here. The thunder and rain drowned out any coherent thought as he ran, his heart threatening to pound out of his chest with each step. His mind flashed to his childhood, the others, the bodies, they struggled, they fought, what was he doing? A small girl with wild red hair was screaming for her grandmother before being pushed into the abyss of the water beneath her, his hands reaching out, his hands grasping at red skin. NO, NO, NO, NO! The last thing Frazier saw was a branch, and the last thing he felt was a sharp pain beginning at his temple and spreading through his body before darkness consumed him.