“And. Thus. The. Sword. Clove. The. Foe. As-sunder.” Varus whispered the words and practically danced in his seat, his body bouncing with delight as he saw worlds that were not there as if he were standing as an unliving witness to the story he was writing. Rarely did he lament his lost humanity, but sometimes?

‘I wish I could smile again.’ He thought to himself as he set the quill down. There was a yawn behind him, one at first, then another, and then another. He glanced behind him to see four little fists above the back of the couch, their fingers spreading as their lips smacked while they woke up.

“Wha- where-” Tuesday mumbled, her little fox ears wiggled and twitched when they poked just above the back of the couch, and Varus could tell the moment her memories of the previous day came flooding back to her.

He knew that moment, because she froze and let out a high pitched yelp.

“Whasat…?” Hannah asked while rubbing the sleep from her eyes, before memory returned to her as well. She let out a feline hiss, jumped, spun and dug her claws into the wooden rim that lined the top of the old seat.

Their tails bristled as they saw the undead host seated on his chair and watching them in return.

“You’re awake, good. You enjoyed your meal, I trust?” He asked and drew back his hood to reveal his glowing red eyes.

His voice was even, as far from hostile as he could make it, and he gestured toward his shattered door. “If you want to leave, you can. There’s a road by the woods, it doesn’t get a lot of traffic anymore, not like it used to, but if you follow it south toward the rising sun, you’ll reach…” Varus paused and rubbed his jaw, taking his eyes off them for a moment, his uncertainty caught them flat footed.

“Reach…what?” Tuesday asked, “A dark coven of necromancers who will turn us into adorable undead?”

“A den of dragons that will roast us as snacks?” Hannah asked.

“A pit of unspeakable horrors made of shadows and teeth?” Tuesday suggested.

“A fortress of demons that will-” Hannah’s suggestion was cut off when Varus snapped his fingers.

“That’s an excellent idea for a monster, Tuesday!” Varus exclaimed and spun around, putting his back to them, he tore a piece of paper away from his stack of blank sheets and scribbled down… ‘Shadow…monster…shadows…teeth…’ he muttered as he wrote, “An excellent monster for my next story.”

He then spun around to see the pair of girls staring with blank, wide eyed confusion at one another.

“You have very grim imaginations, how charming.” He chortled but shook his head. “But no, I paused because now that I think about it, I don’t actually know what’s there anymore. I’ve been in this cottage for a very long time, and except to do a little maintenance now and then, I never leave.”

“How long is…long?” Tuesday asked and spread her arms out wide, then began to draw them together as if shortening the time she imagined her spread out arms represented.

Varus shrugged, stood, and walked to the far wall where the couch had once sat, touched it, then walked while their eyes became like saucers as he walked to the far wall and touched it in turn. “That long, I think. I’m still guessing, but when I settled here, that forest outside,” he pointed through the open doorway to the woods beyond the old dirt road, “wasn’t there. It was just a grove of trees I planted to attract birds and give me some shade while I repaired the cottage and learned how to control my magic. I’ve always liked birds.” He said and paused to listen to the faint sound of chirping outside.

“Because they’re good to eat?” Hannah asked and licked her lips, her tail was no longer bristled as it had been, between his moderate voice and casual air, along with his invitation to depart, she’d begun to relax.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“No. When I was alive, yes. But it’s the wings.” He said and went to the door to look out into the morning light, “They’re free in ways no man ever born has ever been. To fly away as far as they can go, and then to do it all again when they rest. There’s nowhere in the world they can’t call home if they can just keep going. They’re unbound by anything but time. How can I not like that? Plus,” he paused and let their chirping go on for a moment, “I like the songs they sing.”

Varus didn’t see the look they traded, but their conclusion was obvious when Tuesday asked, “You’re really not going to, I don’t know, do any magic experiments or anything with us? We can really just leave?”

“That’s what I said.” Varus answered as he returned to his desk. “The wolves won’t bother you on the road, they’ve learned to be suspicious of hunters, and that pack is probably long gone from here now anyway. The thing is though, I’m not actually sure what’s there. A long time ago, there was a thriving city, but I doubt that survived the war. But the farmland was good, so at the very least it should have a town, or maybe a village. You can get back to your parents. Just do me a favor and don’t mention there’s an elder lich living here.”

“On account of heroes showing up to slay you?” Tuesday asked.

“On account of heroes showing up to slay me.” Varus answered.

“On account of adventurers coming to claim your head?” Hannah asked.

“On account of adventurers coming to claim my head.” Varus agreed again.

“On account of armies showing up to burn you out of your lair?” Tuesday asked as her tail danced about.

“On account of armies showing up to burn me out of my lair.” Varus agreed.

“On account of necromancers coming to offer dark sacrifices to you?” Hannah asked as her tail began to dance about in turn.

“Do you have any idea how much of a hassle that would be? I’d never get my work done.” Varus agreed, breaking the impromptu game of repetition with a snort out of his hollow nostrils. “But that is a great idea for a story… yes…an elder lich that just wants to be left alone, but is constantly fending off worshipers wanting to offer him sacrifices…” He turned around again and scribbled notes on paper, ignorant of the confused looks the two girls at his back were giving both him and each other.

“Um… excuse me, Mr. Varus, but-” Tuesday asked, and he stopped in his writing to turn around and face her again.

“Yes?” He said and set his skeletal hands on his lap, giving her his full attention.

“It’s just that, um, is it really a good idea to go that way if we don’t know what’s there? Or how far it is?” She asked.

Varus drummed the fingers of his right hand over the part of his dark robe that covered his knee and then said, “I suppose that’s fair, but it can’t be that far. Even if wagons and horses don’t travel this road often, there must be at least a village or a town within a few days of here. Besides, when you get there you can just have somebody send word to your parents' village to let them know you’re alive and safe. I’m sure they’re worried about you both, after all.”

That was when their faces fell.

“What?” Varus asked and tilted his head, his red eyes pulsed rhythmically as he sought the truth from them as their faces began to twitch and little pools of salty tears began to form. A sickening feeling knotted in his nonexistent guts as he asked with a silky soft voice, “Tuesday, Hannah…why were you two in the woods? Why won’t your parents be looking for you? Where are they?”

“They won’t be. They…abandoned us. We haven’t got any parents anymore… we haven’t got anybody…we don’t know where they are. All we know is that they left us and ran off.” Tuesday answered, and the pair unconsciously took one another’s hands.

“We’ve got nowhere to go, so we were just…just looking for someplace to be.” Hannah answered, her tail and Tuesday’s both drooped, their ears flopped down, and she then finished, “If you want us to go, though, we’ll go. Thank you for saving us, and for feeding us, Mr. Varus.” She said, and pushed herself back from the couch to put one bare foot on the floor.

“Wait.” Varus said, and the pair froze. ‘You’re insane, Varus. You’re an elder lich, a thing out of nightmares, you can’t take care of two little girls, even magic ones, hell it’s been centuries at least since you were even alive-’ He told himself, and then repeated it.

But as he looked down at them, he said something else entirely.

“You can stay…for now at least, for a while. At least until someone comes along who can properly look after you. There’s just one condition.” He said and raised one boney finger.

They looked at him in quiet expectation.

“Just call me Varus.” He said, and then approached to hold his upturned hand out to the pair. “Deal?”

“Deal!” The pair said and put their tiny hands into his.

‘What did I just get myself into?’ He wondered as he looked at their starry eyes that were fixated upon him as if he were some angel descended from on high. But no matter how much he wondered, or what answer he thought he might have found, the truth was…

Varus had no idea.