Chapter Two

Varus went through the root cellar beneath the cottage. While they hadn’t outright accused him of murdering the previous occupant and taking the place, they were right about one thing, he hadn’t built it himself. The occupant however, would not be coming back, that much, the Elder Lich could be sure of.

What the owner left behind however, was enough food for a dozen lifetimes, or so it sometimes seemed. ‘He must have been a worrisome sort.’ Varus thought, not for the first time as his red eyes scanned the earthen walls into which shelves had been cut by hand. On every one there were at least five rows of jars, some of them contained dried fruits and vegetables. Others thick white lard hid pemmican meat made from pork, venison, chicken, lamb, and beef. On other shelves were rows of jars filled with honey in which fruit had simply been stuffed without having been dried. While in sealed barrels there sat apples soaking in the same that were as fresh to his undead eyes as the day they must have first been thrown into the barrel untold years ago.

None of it had been touched by his skeletal hands since he first found them waiting to be consumed, and now for the first time in an age, he found himself trying to imagine what they might be like. ‘I haven’t felt the impulse to eat anything since I died… I’ve sort of forgotten… What does it feel like to have a full belly? What about an empty one? What about waiting on food? What about to ‘taste’ food?’

Varus scratched the white horns growing out of his skull as he tried to think of an answer to at least one of those questions that ran through his mind in the darkness, and found none.

“Alright, try a simple one, Varus. What would children like to eat?” He asked himself, and a vague memory came to mind of his time while living…

“Nothing like a good stew after a long march, eh Varus?” Varus could hear the voice. He could see the face, big, cherubic, a few missing teeth, and a hearty belly laugh. Armor clinking as the speaker’s big, muscular body moved. The smell of oil and sweat, and the warmth of the fire, the light of the moon, the cool breeze over bare skin, and a warm wooden bowl in hand.

All of that, Varus could recall as if it were yesterday, right down to the bushy brown eyebrows that matched the man’s eyes.

‘What was his name?’ Varus asked as the memory of laughter and life began to fade away like a dream within minutes of waking up.

He shook his head, at least the vague memory gave him an answer.

It would be a little work but…? ‘This will do. If they’re still there, at least.’ He told himself and began to grab fruit, vegetables, a few jars of preserved meat, and shoved them all into his arms so swiftly it was as if he wanted to make up for time lost pondering unimportant questions. The jars clinked together and both the fruit and vegetables were awkward, but he waddled his way back up the ancient steps of stone and earth to emerge again into the surface world.

Their bellies were the only thing breaking the promise of silence, but they were doing so quite loudly. They went stiff, tails bristled as they stared up at him. They said nothing, but their eyes focused immediately on the providence he held in his arms as he made his way to a table. “You like, ‘stew’ don’t you?” He asked and pointed to his dusty fireplace where an old iron pot sat unused and gray beneath the layers of disuse.

“Yes…” The two said in harmony, their tails lashing back and forth as they ogled the food with hungry eyes.

“I can make stew, but I’m afraid I haven’t cooked in some time. I assume you know how to do the same?” He asked, and the pair gave mute, hasty little nods.

“Good, if you will prepare the ingredients, I will build the fire, draw the water, clean the pot, bowls, cups, and utensils. Are you strong enough to handle that?” Varus asked, doing his damndest to keep his voice calm and even to avoid adding to the fear they clearly already felt.

“Yes. I- We can. We used to do that in the village.” Tys replied, and her ears twitched a little on her head. Her hunger made even more evident as she stared not at the lich, but at the jars and sweet, sticky looking apples with their golden hue made somehow brighter in their honey coating where the sun struck them.

Her mouth opened, and a little drool came out. Hannah was no better off, she was on the edge of her seat, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm, not that it did much good as new flecks of drool replaced the old.

“Good.” Varus answered, “Don’t worry, working together we should be able to finish making it in an hour or so, then I can finally get back to working in peace.”

He tried not to put too much emphasis on the word ‘finally’ but he wasn’t all that sure he managed. On swift feet he moved to an old, little used chest of drawers, and yanked out some utensils that were less dusty than the pot only because they’d been left forgotten in a drawer for all that time. ‘Alright, just a little extra time for a good cleaning.’ He thought as he took them up, returned to the fireplace, and then with one sweep of his hand he snatched the aging pot out of the place where it had hung unused and unmoving since he first took over the cottage, turning to the unexpected little guests to say, “I’ll be back soon. Try not to damage anything, just…sort it all, at least.”

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They bobbed their little heads and as he stepped through the shattered doorway, the little pair found themselves alone.

“He doesn’t seem evil, but I don’t mew.” Hannah ventured as she pushed herself off the couch, and over to the large center table.

Tys grabbed the couch and began to tug, pulling it over the floor with a loud scraping noise, her natural strength, even when reduced by hunger, could manage that much. “Maybe, maybe not, but if we’re not going in the pot, that’s the important part for now.” She said as she hopped back up and, with enough height to get at the ingredients, she reached down and helped Hannah up to join her.

“Yum.” Hannah said and brought an apple to her mouth to take a bite. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and while Tys was about to rebuke the kitsune, Hannah made a long, hungry, “mmmmm…” noise that wasn’t quite a word, but still said plenty. “The honey… on the apples, so…guhd!”

Tys snatched one up, brought it to her lips and took a bite. “I guess I should try it… so what if we eat one…?” She asked rhetorically just before the flavor exploded on her tongue. Her eyes bulged and she began tearing the flesh of the fruit apart, ripping through it with unsurpassed glee. “Sho guhd!” She mumbled and put her hand to her cheek, sighing in contented bliss as the sweet flavor rampaged over her tastebuds.

“Maybe we should, you know, try just a little bit of everything? Just to be sure? What if some of them are no good, the stew will be ruined.” Hannah suggested and after dropping the remnants of the golden apple core she picked up a jar of preserved meat.

Tys almost argued…almost. She glanced at the shattered door and flicked her ear to catch any noise there might be outside. “I guess he won’t miss… just a few bits and pieces. Alright, pass me the bacon one.”

Outside, Varus stared at the well and wished he still had the capacity to frown. “I haven’t needed water in so long I never bothered to fix you. This might be my own fault, but that does not mean I have to like it.” He said to the well.

His voice echoed against the stone walls which lead deep into a darkness so vast even he could not see the bottom. “I do not have to like it…”

It did not answer otherwise, as inanimate objects did not tend to make for good conversationalists.

“Well,” Varus said, unable to resist the pun, “if I’m stuck fixing it, at least I can cheat a bit.”

A vague memory came to mind of a magic caster from…before.

“Magic isn’t cheating, it’s just an efficient use of natural resources to reduce the work you have to do by hand…”

“So, it’s laziness?” Varus recalled the question, but the face of the speaker was a blur, though the magic caster’s white bearded face and the purple shade of indignation that followed, those were memorable at least.

‘What was it we were arguing about…?’ He wondered briefly and reached up to stroke his sharp jaw. ‘I wonder how long it’s been?’ He pondered, and then let out a reflexive snort, ‘I’m sure they’d get a laugh out of me using magic if they could see me now.’ He let out a gentle laugh and snapped his fingers as he summoned the mana of his body. The old well’s many stones began to come back together, gliding into place from where they’d fallen, the mossy covering retreating, the vines sliding out of the well and away toward the forest like snakes returning to the nest.

And then he stretched out his other skeletal hand, and a new crank began to form from pure mana. There was a thunder-like crack as it snapped into being completely, and his fingers closed around it.

Thus, the repairs went smoothly to the last, bit by bit, piece by piece, he made the broken and ancient well whole, and then took the crank to turn it with his own hands, testing his work as he’d always done in life. It was slow at first, but rotation after rotation, the bucket weighted heavy with water rose up again for the first time, by his own efforts.

He peered down into the dark well to inspect what passed for ‘his’ handiwork. It wasn’t exactly ‘pretty.’ The stones were poorly laid and as he checked, one tumbled loose again and fell back down into the dark. Varus, ever curious, listened for the splash and counted the seconds, intending to determine the depth…but the sound did not come up after the stone went down. His eyes went from the darkness to the rope, confirming with his own eyes that it wasn’t that long.

‘An enchanted well?’ He thought, and ran a hand through his long white hair. ‘I wish I knew who built this house.’ He thought, and set his mind back to the task at hand.

As water sloshed around and he removed the bucket from its hook, he turned his attention to the pot and other implements. “Filthy things.” He mumbled, and wondered idly when the last time was that he’d even really given his cottage a proper cleaning.

The Elder Lich gave a reluctant shrug, ‘Best not to think about that. What am I going to do, time travel and clean it?’ He chortled a little and set to scrubbing. Dumping water over the dusty, dirty things, sloshing the water in the pot around, turning the clean water ashen gray, he dumped it out, then brought up more water to repeat the process until the water he’d dumped out was clean, and he used what remained to wash the rest of what he’d need, before taking one more bucket to fill the pot and make the broth.

“Alright!” He exclaimed loud enough to let the little ones within know he was done, “I’ll pick up the debris of the door and we can use that for firewood.” He started to walk toward the door, rolling his red eyes in his skull at the otherwise useless debris. He could have put it back together, but he was still rather cross about its fragility and preferred to replace the whole thing. “I’ll just get the fire going and we can-” he stopped as he found himself standing at the entrance of the door.

On the table in front of him, jars, all of them empty, lay scattered. And along the surface of the table were the remnants of vegetable stalks, the inedible green shoots which held the edible bits. Then there were the apple cores…and the culprits?

Hannah and Tys lay flopped on the couch, they held hands and moaned, staring up at the ceiling and holding bulging bellies which said exactly where the food had all gone.

“Even if I died now…I…regret…nothing.” Tys said, thrusting her free hand defiantly once up into the air before it settled again on her belly.

“Mrmr…” It wasn’t exactly a word which the nekoni girl added to the statement, but her eyes were shut and there was a faint purr coming from her as she lay there in her exhausted food coma.

Varus said nothing as he stared at the absurd sight, the scattered mess on the table, the now useless pot of water in his hands, the food coma victims on the couch they’d used to let them stand at the table…

His skinless jaw dropped, and a deep, deep laugh came out that was richer and longer than any he’d let free since his distant days as a living man. They did not seem to notice, and so he shrugged, tossed the pot back outside, and walked past the sleepy pair to his desk.

“At least I get to write uninterrupted for a little while.” He said, glancing back over his shoulder just once to see if he was finally proven right, and when only purrs and light snores answered him, he settled into his work once more.