The day was nearly over, and despite his best efforts, Balthazar had not yet found a lead on the elusive frostshade flower. Every traveler who passed by had been of no concrete help, and even those who promised to look for it left the crab with little hope. Most of them couldn’t tell which way was north, let alone figure out where to find the right flower.

Lifting his gaze from the herbology book he was studying, Balthazar looked to the other shore, where the other three inhabitants of the pond were. Druma in his bed, Bouldy still firmly planted behind it, and Blue stretching her body next to her cushion. The crab couldn’t recall seeing her fly up to hunt for food all day.

He wondered if she was refusing to leave the goblin’s side, or if he had simply been too busy all day to notice her catching prey. He decided it was likely the latter, as he still had little belief in the drake caring for anyone.

Or at the very least, he’d like to believe it wasn’t just him she did not care much for.

Bringing his attention back down to the book, he continued searching for any reference to where the frostshade flower could possibly grow. He was doing it mostly to keep himself occupied, as he knew finding its location would be of little use outside its blooming season.

And then there was also the matter of how he couldn’t go find it, even if he knew where it was.

As much as Balthazar tried to avoid thinking about it, his issue with leaving the area around the pond still continued echoing in the back of his mind.

He tried to convince himself it was perhaps some spell put on him as a prank, that someone would jump out of a bush, pointing and laughing at him for falling for it, but in reality, he knew that couldn’t be it. Something deep within him really compelled him not to leave the pond.

But what? And why?

Even if some divine force existed, why should it care where a simple crab or other random wild animals go? It made no sense to him.

And above all else, he wanted to know how he could break free from those bonds. Whatever “curse” it might be, he could not let it restrict his life forever.

He didn’t exactly have any wish to leave his pond, but now that he knew someone or something was restricting his choice in the matter, the crab would be damned if he wouldn’t break free from it.

He would stay in the pond, but he would do it by choice, not by decree.

But all that was a problem for later, he had to keep reminding himself. For the moment, he was doing his best to do something unusual for him: putting other’s interests before his own. It was a strange feeling for the self-centered crab, but deep down, it kind of felt good.

Not that he was yet ready to admit to it if anyone asked. He had a crabby reputation to uphold, after all.

With a frustrated thud, Balthazar shut the book and placed it back on a shelf. Light was quickly fading from the sky, and he was tired of chasing for leads in old yellowed pages.

Retrieving a small brioche from one of the baskets Madeleine had left during her last visit, the crab skittered along the outer shore of his pond to a remote and tucked away corner between some boulders.

Sitting by the edge of the water, he nibbled on the sweet and fluffy bread, admiring the great view that spot provided of the waterfall on the opposite side of the pond.

The surface was clear and he could see many small fish dancing beneath the surface, their colorful scales reflecting the last remains of sunlight in mesmerizing rainbow patterns.

The crab was so lost in thought he did not hear any approaching footsteps, if there were even any, but by the time he heard the voice, the one who spoke was already sitting on a small rock next to him.

“Hello, Balthie.”

The startled crab jumped in place and dropped his pastry in the water with a loud “plop” sound.

Velvet, the witch, smiled at him as she crossed her legs and rested both hands on her knee.

“How the hell did you get in here?! Get away from me!” Balthazar quickly blurted out, as he stumbled back against a boulder.

“Oh now, sweetie, is that the way to treat a friendly face?” she said, pouting her lips and batting her eyelashes.

“You’re no friend of mine!” the apprehensive crab exclaimed, keeping as close to the rock and as far from her as he could. “Shoo! Leave my pond, you’re not welcome here!”

“My, you’re awfully bitter, for someone who eats so much sugar. What has that evil baker been putting in your pastries? What was her name? Madeleine, right?”

“You keep my baker’s name out of your mouth, witch!” Balthazar warned, trying his best to sound assertive, despite the faltering in his voice.

“Such bravado for a silly little girl.” The black-clad woman placed an open hand against her chest in a dramatic manner. “To think that I came here with such good intentions, only to be scorned like this.”

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“Good intentions?” the merchant skeptically repeated. “You’re probably here looking to mutilate me again!”

“You wound me, sir!” said the witch mockingly. “I came here after I heard word on the road that you were desperately looking for a certain rare flower.”

Balthazar’s heart sank in his shell.

“The frostshade petals? Do you know of them?” he hesitantly asked, unsure of which answer he feared most.

She opened a wide smile, revealing her pristine white teeth that contrasted against the blackness of her lipstick.

“Know of them? Darling, I plucked them myself last season.”

Balthazar started averting his eyes as he saw her fingers reach between the cleavage of her dress until he realized she was only retrieving a small vial from there. While her dress did seem to lack any pockets, the crab still found her choice for item storage too unconventional.

As she brought the small container under the fading sunlight, Balthazar saw what was inside: five pointy and dried out petals of a blue flower. A perfect match to what the shaman had drawn and described.

“Is this not what you were looking for?” she asked.

The crab did not respond, but his troubled expression was enough confirmation for the witch.

“Don’t look so glum, darling,” Velvet said, palming the vial away from sight again. “I thought you’d be ecstatic that I’ve brought you these.”

“I’m not a fool,” the deflated crab said. “I know you will want something for them, and it won’t be money or anything I’m going to like.”

“Again, your words pierce me like daggers, Balthie. I’m a reasonable woman. I know what these petals are used for. I know you need them to cure someone. And judging by the sorry state of your little assistant over there, I can make a good guess as to why you were so desperately looking for them.”

She gave a nod to the center islet in the distance, where Druma was.

“What do you want?” Balthazar asked, with a dry and bitter tone.

“For a start, I’d really like for you to stop being so hostile,” said the witch, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes slowly. “I’ve never really done any harm to you, have I? Can’t you just consider that I’m really not that bad? I thought you, better than anyone, would understand what it’s like to have others judge us by what we are, before they even get to know us. Is it really so much to ask that we have a civilized conversation? Go on, sit, let’s talk. I promise I won’t bite.”

She gestured for the space next to her where Balthazar was sitting moments before. With great hesitation, he slowly walked back and sat down.

While he still felt suspicious about the witch, he could not simply turn his back and possibly throw away his only chance at getting his pincers on those petals that could save his friend.

He looked down at the water, observing the fish nibbling away at bits and pieces of his brioche that floated near the surface.

“See? No harm done,” Velvet said, as she readjusted her long black dress in order to turn and face the crab. “Now we can talk properly, look each other in the eyes and be sincere, right?”

“Sure” Balthazar hesitantly said, while looking up at her pale face and piercing blue eyes.

“My, my, the descriptions just don’t do you justice,” the woman said, admiring the crab. “The shine of your carapace, these powerful claws, those robust legs. What a specimen!”

“Hey, hands off,” the embarrassed crab protested, as the witch hovered her hand over his figure.

“Don’t be so shy,” she asked, while leaning closer. “I really think you’re quite the crab, you know? Not like all those adventurers out there with their pathetic two legs and puny hands. And you got the smarts behind it all, too.”

Balthazar knew the witch wasn’t to be trusted, but something about her was feeling more and more captivating. Being closer to her, he could almost swear she smelled like freshly baked pastries.

“Y-you think?” the flustered crab asked. “I mean, let’s focus on our business, please. The petals, are you willing to trade them?”

“For you? Of course,” she whispered in a low voice, her face leaning over even closer to Balthazar’s eyes. “But what are you willing to offer for your friend’s salvation?”

The crab gulped. As awkward and uncomfortable as he was feeling, he couldn’t pull his gaze away from her eyes. Those big, penetrating eyes, like two shiny jewels. And Balthazar certainly loved shiny things.

“You’re… you’re talking about one of my legs like last time, or something, aren’t you? What… what is it with you and the weird need for crab parts?” he asked, struggling to string a straight sentence with her face so close to his.

“Not just any crab, darling,” Velvet said, her arm now resting over the crab’s shell, and her black nails tapping softly on his golden chitin. “You’re a very special, unique crab. And I really, really need a little piece of you in order to finish my little project. I’ve been working on it for so long, looking for the right one to help me finish it. You can’t imagine my joy when I finally found you. You don’t need to worry, you can trust me. It’s just a little leg, what’s the harm? You’ll surely grow it back, and I’d make sure you wouldn’t feel a thing.”

She slid off the rock and down to the ground, her arm now fully embracing the crab, her other hand tracing his chin with a nail.

“Perhaps,” she continued, “you could even come with me after. I could show you so much. It would be just us, Velvet and Balthazar, against the world. Me with my knowledge and craft, you with your… uniqueness. I could do so much with you. All the way to the top. If you only knew how special you are, Balthie. What do you say?”

The crab felt lightheaded. Like the day he fell asleep under the hot summer sun after having eaten a few too many strawberry tarts, and everything around him was spinning. It was a funny feeling, but for some reason, not completely unpleasant.

His smarts kept telling not to trust a word the witch said, all the way from the back of his brain, like nagging distant voices, but why not? She didn’t seem so bad, now that he was getting to know her from up close. So very close.

Balthazar felt as if he was sweating buckets inside his shell, but he just couldn’t tear himself away from her enthralling gaze. Something in the air was clouding his judgment, like an intoxicating scent that vacated him of all sense. He knew perfectly well he was being played, but he just didn’t seem to mind it. Just like he knew eating a seventh slice of pie was unwise, but he’d always go for it anyway. Some things were just too tempting to beat through reason alone.

And for whatever reason, Velvet really smelled to him like every single pastry he could imagine.

“I-I guess a leg is not that big of a deal,” the mesmerized merchant stuttered. “I got plenty more. Are you sure it really wouldn't hurt?”

With her eyes still locked on his, the witch slowly reached behind her back and unhooked a sharp sickle from her dress’s waist.

“Of course, sweetie,” Velvet murmured. “You just have to trust me.”