After a long-winded explanation of the conversation Coral had with the resident ghosts, Elwin and Pearl had sat in silence for a moment as they absorbed what she had said. Coral was all too aware that Mrs. Sapping and her entourage could very well still be lingering in the kitchen with them, so she was cautious with her opinion on the souls she described. Pearl had a similar reaction to Coral as she had explained that the wholly unstable Lady Rayner was back in the manor with them. How stable, Coral didn’t know, nor did she care to find out. She was going to have to take a long look at her accounts and find out how much exactly she would need to employ an Adventurer to handle such a task.
Ideally, Crowcaller would be able to come in, swing Blacktalon around and be done with it in all in an afternoon. Somehow, Coral didn’t believe it would be that simple or easy. Not if she were to base it off how the ghoul had been. Ghastly was an apt description.
Maybe that could be Moonflower Inn’s appeal to the masses. She could picture the advertisement flyer now.
Moonflower Inn, a gothic old manor, home of a long dead necromancer whose nefarious dealings are still ongoing today, his victims’ souls still trapped within the walls. Complimentary breakfast and enjoy the evening’s haunting entertainment with wine and cheese.
At least that would have Direwood’s Adventurer’s coming to Moonflower Inn. It would also mean her inn would never make money, as the people she wanted to attract were more of the common variety who didn’t light up at the mention of monsters. Or ghosts.
Oh, she really hoped Moonflower inn wasn’t a bad investment.
Coral gave herself a little mental shake. Of course she could salvage this manor into a respectable inn. She just needed to put in hard work and hope for an extraordinary amount of good luck. Perhaps she could use the fools luck spell more and lure in clients somehow. She could manage a bit of bad luck in return for some extra money. She already was dealing with a filth curse.
Unless that curse earned her a broken leg in return. Or a fire breaking out in the Winter Salon in thanks to the tiny dragons. Or she ran out of wine. Frowning, Coral shook her head to shake away those negative, pesky thoughts. She needed to be positive.
They briefly discussed using the second bone conductor to ask further questions and to seek out the Rayner children. Coral didn’t want to disturb them if they had a brief moment with their mother, even if it meant they were losing out on time they could reason with an unstable ghost. If Lady Rayner became aggressive, any reasoning or agreements reached with her would be useless in that state. Their only option was to move whatever barrier that prevented the ghosts from moving on or have them absorbed and used as fodder to a shadowsteel blade. Coral was not eager for the last option, and even more so now that she had spoken to the ghosts. Somehow, in her mind, these ghosts were no longer mere entities that could potentially cause harm to her or Moonflower Inn’s guests. They were fixed in Coral’s mind as real people, who had lives and personalities. She didn’t want to be responsible for dooming these spirits to suffering until they ceased to exist.
So, it was agreed that the second bone conductor would be used if they strictly needed to. Not that Coral intended for that to happen.
As promised, Elwin escorted Pearl to town. Pearl had thought it best she remain with Coral to ensure that Lady Rayner didn’t emerge from the basement and cause havoc for her. Coral argued that they were still in need of more food items, and even more so now that they had tiny dragons to feed.
Elwin, who was unaware of the tiny dragon’s presence, was all too eager to help Pearl obtain whatever necessary items she required in exchange for a few pats of the creatures. Unsure how the snapdragons would react to such treatment, Coral agreed to observation only.
Pearl had promised to be quick and left promptly with Elwin and a basket hanging from her elbow. Coral was somewhat relieved to see Pearl leave in three parts. For one, if the ghost of Lady Rayner did arise from the basement and was entirely hostile, Pearl would not be there to bare witness nor get hurt in such an event.
Secondly, Coral would be left to her own unsupervised devices. Now was the perfect time to get in a spot of cleaning without being harried by her sister, insisting she rest. The stitches were holding her back, but there was so much to do. Besides, Coral could wash dishes and cause little irritation to her leg that way. She wouldn’t push herself too far.
Thirdly, Coral wanted to be a little selfish and see the dragons without disturbing them too much, on her own. It was her compensation for not eating the last few slices of chocolate cake.
The kitchen was first on her list of places to clean. It was a place they would use constantly, and she didn’t like the idea of leaving this mess entirely for Pearl to clean. She filled the sink full of hot, soapy water and began to scrub away at the dishes. What felt like one eternity later, she was done, and had even dried and put everything back in their respectful places, ensuring to have the handles of the pots turned in the same direction as the others that had already been stored. Pearl liked things to be organized, and Coral encouraged this behaviour. It was more aesthetically pleasing.
Coral scrubbed the kitchen table, swept the floor and collected any small pieces of porcelain that had been missed in the first cleanup Pearl had done. Her leg burned a little as she moved, so she was cautious not to twist or step too fast. She opened the door that opened out onto the back courtyard and swept the dust outside, then left it ajar as the ambient temperature was warmer out there.
The kitchen had handsome wooden cabinets from floor to ceiling, with a matching bench that ran along the length of the wall that faced the courtyard, the long window allowing ample light to fill the space. While the kitchen was somewhat less extravagant than the rest of the manor, there were still details to the woodwork that hadn’t gone amiss. Small carvings and embellishment had been done to the cornicing, brass handles affixed to the drawers and cupboards. The walls were whitewashed and were easily cleanable by the white glossy tiles that had been affixed halfway up. It had taken Pearl and Coral an entire afternoon to wipe away the grime and cobwebs that accumulated over the years. The oven, a large cast-iron affair had been placed in a chimney. It was most certainly a utilitarian space, but finer in detail and comfortability. Almost, homey, in a way. Especially now so that it was in an organized state. To one side of the kitchen the old, rusty and unusable items were placed in a box. Coral would have to see what she could do with such things without wasting them.
There had been no knocking of plates or pans, no doors swung open, and though the room remained chilly, Coral took this as a good sign that the ghosts had decided to heed her request and not alarm her.
Now that the kitchen had been set right, her leg was smarting a little enough to warrant her to want sit down for a moment. Coral made her way down the corridor, and slowed to a stop as she spied some mold that was growing along the cornicing. She stared at it for a moment, then started to make her way to the items she had ordered for such purposes. A large tin of mold remover was waiting for her, and she was more than willing to use the corridor to the kitchen as a test subject for such a treatment. At first, Coral had worried that the mold was a result of an unknown leak, or inadequate waterproofing. However, there had been many windows that had broken glass and parts of the house had been exposed to the elements over the last two decades. She could test this before she could hire someone to conduct a thorough examination to see if there were more underlying problems.
Coral found the large tin, carefully read the instructions which were not particularly detailed. She opened the tin with some effort, and with an old wooden ladle that looked half mouldy itself from the box of useless things, scooped herself a portion into a bowl and set it aside for a moment. She sought out something she could use to stand on to be able to reach the cornicing itself. The corridor, and for the rest of the manor had high ceilings, which added grandeur, but was irksome when it came to wanting to remove cobwebs, or in her case, mould. Coral first tried a wooden chair, taken from the kitchen, and was woefully too short even as she stretched to the tips of her toes. There was a hall table with a single draw in the corridor, so she shoved and heaved this until it was in place. Coral placed the bowl, hoisted up her skirt then used the chair to step on to the top of the table. Thankfully, the table was high enough for her to reach. She lathered up a basting brush, also acquired from the box of useless things, and liberally coated the area. Having no gloves, Coral resorted to using an old bit of cloth wrapped around her hand. Not ideal, but better than directly touching the harsh smelling liquid.
When done, she carefully knelt and dropped her good leg over the side of the table, her toes just brushing against the chair. It jerked out, startling Coral so that she dropped the bowl of mould remover, splashing the last of it across the wall and over her skirt. These sorts of accidents were going to be inevitable, right up to when she can have the curse removed.
Coral reached her foot out to put some weight on the chair, still luckily within reach. It slid further sideways. It sat at an angle, just out of reach. She tried stretching her leg out, hoping to hook it with the tip of her shoe to draw it back to her, except that it was too far. The chair hadn’t moved under her weight. It had the distinct feeling of being pulled.
Coral’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t the curse. At least, surely not the second time the chair had moved.
“Very funny,” Coral said to the empty hallway, wondering which of the ghosts was doing this to her. Otis, the young kitchen boy, had moved her teacup about. Though Egbert had sounded more of the type to have the disposition to try to do this. He had said he wasn’t interested in moving on.
The chair remained where it was in a most decidedly manner. Coral looked about her in the hopes that she had missed something in her first attempt to gain height. There was nothing except a landscape painting of Direwood in a fine wooden frame a few meters further away on the opposite wall.
“I’ll remember this when I meet Crowcaller in town,” she threatened the seemingly empty hallway. There was no sudden specter forming shadows in the corridor, no body-less whispers. Only silence. Coral then realized that none of the ghosts in Moonflower Inn would know who Crowcaller was.
The chair didn’t move back towards her in the wake of her threat. Coral’s legs flailed a little as she gave up on the ghosts pushing the chair in place and sought out the ground instead. It wouldn’t have been a problem if she wasn’t trying to keep her stitches closed. Coral Squirmed a little, slipping further until finally, her foot touched the solid floor. Coral winced at the pull on her leg as she settled back to her feet.
She looked up at the scrape of wood along the floor. The chair slipped back to its position beside the table. Coral stared at it incredulously. Oh, she’ll definitely remember this.
Coral collected the bowl and basting brush in a huff, trying not to mutter to herself as she returned to the kitchen to clean up a little. With the bowl washed, she took a quiet moment to look around the kitchen, hoping she hadn’t been followed by any of the ghosts in here. Or, more likely, that they were still in the kitchen. It struck Coral just how quiet it was. Despite knowing the ghosts taking up residence, the manor felt more vast and empty than when she and Pearl had first arrived. For all it’s splendor, fine furniture, intricate fixtures, creaking doors and the tell-tale signs that people had indeed once lived in the manor, it felt wrong for such a place to be so lifeless.
The manor lacked the presence of people. Even her own traces were barely discernable amongst the cobwebs. It was lonely. She was alone, physically, and she didn’t like it. Even now, the sound of hearing the ghosts was preferrable to this overwhelming emptiness.
Coral wandered back down the corridor, checking to see if the mould remover was taking affect. It wasn’t. She gave the chair a second dirty look, as if Mr. Egbert sat upon it, just for good measure to ensure whichever ghost knew she was displeased by their lack of cooperation. She held their future in her hands, and it wasn’t in their best interest to pull jokes on her like this. Not while she was injured, that was plain rude.
Coral’s loneliness had her enter the Winter Salon, and walking softly towards the crate by the fire’s hearth. It was markedly warmer. Even the floor was warm as she settled down upon it. The snapdragons were quiet, so she risked disturbing them by pulling back the cover to look inside. All but one were nestled together in the far corner. A curious head lifted up from the cluster of bodies and stared at her with large round eyes. A second head followed, blinking blearily at her, then snuggled its head back into the warmth.
The snapdragons were a mix of bright colours and textures. One was almost translucent. Another was a deep plum which shifted to orange as light from the fire illuminated part of its scales.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The snapdragon that was awake was snuffling around at the other end of the crate, closest to Coral. Unlike the others, who were a mix of colours, this one was completely black with two large brown eyes. It was slightly larger than the others, more the size of a large puppy, with a softness that all babies have. The black dragon sniffed about, unconcerned with Coral’s presence.
Encouraged by their general lack of reaction to her, Coral settled herself more comfortably, tucking her skirts around her. The splash of mould remover had leaked the colour from the fabric.
The black dragon scratched at the bottom of the crate in a single spot, paused to sniff at it, then continued to dig uselessly at the same place. It’s little claws made soft scratching noises, and were barely able to mark the surface. The noise, however, stirred the others, and they began to squirm and stretch, separating themselves so that Coral could make sense of tail and limbs.
If she had to guess what type the snapdragons were, it was easiest to start with the most obvious. The butterfly variety had likely earned the name from the shape of its wings, fins and tail. There was a single blush pink, with smaller white sections dotting its wings.
Double Supreme was certainly the two-headed one. Its scales were a pale butter yellow. One head had a single tooth protruding from its mouth, and it rested it atop a squat, thick snapdragon. The other head appeared to be entirely toothless and was trying to gnaw the crate wall with little success.
The squat snapdragon, at Corals best guess, was the Dwarf variety. There were two of these, both with expressions as though they would rather be asleep. One was a pearly white with tangerine hues to the edges of its scales, giving a laced effect. The other was similar, except it had a mint colouring.
Perhaps the translucent one was the Frosted Flames? Its body was long, almost snake-like. Instead of wings, its scales plumed up and grew longer and larger from the two tiny horns atop its head, down the back of its neck and right to the end of its tail with a tuft of hair at the tip.
A parallel evolution of True Dragons, Pseudo-Dragons were actually Fey-Beasts that evolved to mimic the appearance and characteristics of Dragons. While True Dragons are a sentient race, Pseudo-Dragons are rarely more intelligent than smart dogs or cats. Having a rudimentary ability to understand language, they were adept at reading physical gestures and emotions due to an innate magic they possess that helps them sense intent of other beings.
Butterfly snapdragons had at one point been the height of popularity amongst nobles. Not one garden could be seen without some tiny creatures fluttering about in an array of colours, feasting on actual butterflies. It had been the style at the time to add a little whimsy and romanticism to one’s garden. As all trends do, the fascination of housing the animals had been overtime replaced with garden gnomes, who were more useful in maintaining the plants and soil. Garden gnomes were much less likely to leave droppings on unsuspecting heads.
Their eggs were nutritious and smaller in size compared to chicken eggs, though were more flavourful. In fact, snapdragon eggs were Coral’s favourite choice for an omelet. They had a subtle sweet and smokey flavour to them, which permeated throughout whatever dish they were incorporated in.
Coral leant forward, daring to bring her face a little closer to the crate. The snapdragons raised their heads, sniffing and flicking their tongues to taste the air. A tiny, moss green snapdragon with a pretty glaze to its scales scurried over to her. Coral was sure that if she were to pick it up, it would fit comfortably in the palm of her hand. It tentatively clamboured up the side of the crate and wedged its snout between the bars.
“Hello,” Coral said softly. Her fingers twitched to reach out and pet it, though she kept them firmly in her lap. It was small, but this little green creature had a mouth full of sharp teeth.
A chirruping noise came from the cluster of snapdragons, and slowly, they came forward, their distrust being overridden by curiosity. The black snapdragon was drawn over by the growing confidence of the others, some had even decided that now was a good time to play. Two had begun to nip at each other and a third flopped right over the top of them, pawing with its front legs. Coral sat perfectly still, trying to portray a sense of calm lest she startle them. She really didn’t need a house fire on top of everything else that had happened in the last few weeks.
The black one used its size to its advantage by pushing its way through to the front. A plum snapdragon tumbled aside and snarled out its disapproval as the black forced its way through to see what had drawn the others. The black one was either ignoring the plum’s snarls or was possibly unaware of its unhappiness. It was more invested in sniffing the air through the bars, trying to scent Coral. There came several squeaks and chirps from the others as they played or clambered up near the bars, and the plum snapdragon rolled to its feet and attempted to enter the fray. It was stepped on by the black snapdragon’s back feet, and then was pelted in the face by its tail. The plum one yelped then bit into the rump of the black snapdragon. The black whipped around, tucking its tail between its legs and turned. The plum had latched on and was kicking furiously with its back legs.
“Don’t do that,” Coral chastised softly, leaning forward but keeping her hands well away. The two continued to scrapple with each other, knocking into others and snapping sharp little teeth. The two-headed snapdragon watched them, their bright eyes fixated on the two for a moment before bounding forward eagerly to join in. One of the heads only had a single tooth, but it was giving all its effort to wrap the length of its long neck as far as it could and bite the throat of the black one. This wasn’t in the league of play fighting. This was a proper fight amongst what seemed to be crabby baby snapdragons.
“Enough,” Coral said more firmly, tapping the side of the crate as the plum shot a jet of sparks into the black’s face. The black had fell into the centre of the snapdragons, which had all others entering the fight. The poor black one had three covering the top of it, one wrapped around its front leg, another gnawing on its tail. They bit, scratched, hissed and yowled, all trying to go for the biggest one there.
Not knowing what else to do, Coral unlatched the top of the crate, lifted the lid and reached inside. She plucked a squat one from the black one’s head and tried to knock aside another. Coral’s fingers felt singed as sparks flit across her skin. She dug her hands through the writhing mass, grabbed the black around the middle and hoisted it up. Little wings beat furiously in the crate as they all tried to follow. Luckily none of them seemed capable of flying just yet. She had to shake off two more before the black one was free and she could shut the lid closed. Coral made sure to fasten the clasp and flick the cloth back over the crate before looking at the bundle pressed up against her chest.
The black snapdragon panted, its arms hooked over her arm holding it in place, its legs and tail dangling. Overall, seemed unfazed that it had been attacked by all the other snapdragons for simply stepping on one by accident. Surely something so small shouldn’t have upset them. Not unless they had particularly grumpy attitudes. Or was it more instinctive to fight? Maybe they were hungry? They hadn’t come with any food; how long could they go in between feedings?
Coral checked the snapdragon over, looking for any signs of discomfort or blood. Its body felt like plush velvet beneath her fingers. She hadn’t noticed the fuzzy coating in the crate, as it was shiny. Coral hoped this meant that it was still in good health. It wriggled in her arm as she felt over its legs and feet, pushing her finger between the pads of its toes and forcing the claws to come out. They weren’t sharp. They looked as though they had been filed down. Was this normal?
Coral set it down on the ground to see if it could walk without limping. She felt woefully unprepared for all of this, and a sense of fear grew in the back of her mind. How was she going to care for these little creatures with no practical knowledge? She would have to rely on trial and error until she could obtain some pseudo-dragon care books.
The snapdragon flapped its leathery wings, then bounded away in short little leaps, its feet padding gently on the wooden floor. Its mouth was ajar, and its big button eyes were bright. This eased Coral’s heart a little, as far as she could see, it was in perfect health and wasn’t hurt at all. It was also extraordinarily cute.
Not knowing when the snapdragons had eaten last, Coral shut the Winter Salon door firmly. It would be a little hard trying to find something for them to eat if she carried the black snapdragon along. Coral peered about in the kitchen supplies, passing over the vegetables and goods that wouldn’t expire quickly. She doubted the snapdragons would like to gnaw on raw potato. What they would most likely want was meat. Except, Coral hadn’t bought much of this, as it would spoil quickly and there was no use in buying large quantities without a proper icebox to keep it cold. She had done the sensible thing and bought as much as they would eat for a few days at a time. Coral’s eyes were drawn to the remainder of the stew. It had meat in it. It wouldn’t hurt to try feeding that to the creatures. If they ate it, all the better for her.
Coral heaped a large serving into two mixing bowls, she wasn’t fool enough to use porcelain, and then returned to the Winter Salon. She placed one on the table with the candelabra and set the other in the crate. She had to work fast, as the snapdragons hadn’t settled down yet and were breathing little puffs of sparks. She stepped back and watched as they gathered around the stew, then ate with an enthusiasm Coral hadn’t been expecting. At least they seemed to enjoy the meal.
Coral looked about the room and found the black snapdragon wrestling with a pillow. The contents flying out as it shook the cushion. Coral picked up the bowl and placed it on the ground for easy reach. She gently took the corner of the pillow and tried to pull it away. The black snapdragon wasn’t willing to give it up, and as she lifted the pillow up higher, it clamped its mouth around the material and let itself dangle an inch from the ground.
“Come on, let go. Look what I brought you,” Coral said, nudging the bowl forward with her other hand.
It wasn’t interested at all in the food. It just wanted to continue disemboweling the cushion. Not wanting to add anymore cleaning to the already significant list, Coral scooped the black snapdragon up, and gently coaxed the pillow from its mouth. The pillow came away with only a bit of effort and hung limply in her hand, the contents now spread out over the floor.
“You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you,” Coral said, lifting up the snapdragon with both hands so that she could see it better. It panted in a self-satisfied kind of way, its big round eyes staring straight into Coral, washing away any annoyance at having to do a bit of needlework to repair the pillow.
Pearl might actually have a contender for the innocent, puppy-dog eyes. This little creature was too adorable. How was a creature this cute?
Not wanting to return it to the crate just for it to be tormented again, Coral set it down, and let it continue to scamper around. She kept a careful eye on it as she collected the feather down, stuffing it back into the pillow unceremoniously. It scampered about the room, sniffing and exploring every surface it could get to, and tried to chew the leg of a seat.
Coral gently coaxed it away from this, and decided it was safe enough to sweep up and get in some more cleaning while she had the opportunity. She went in search of a broom by the back kitchen door, and then vigorously swept the corridor, checked how the mould remover was faring, which was still badly, and then worked her way up to the Winter Salon. She stuck her head into the room to see if the black snapdragon had got into mischief or was resting, only to find it was right behind the door. It trotted out between her feet, tossing its head on the hem of her skirt then bounded down the corridor and into the entrance foyer.
Coral quickly shut the door and followed, her leg pinching as she tried to keep pace. As she entered the entrance foyer, she caught sight of a little black tail slip into the doorway on the right. She and Pearl had barely stepped foot in that room. It was a large ballroom, with timber paraquet flooring in need of waxing and restoration. Some of the boards were loose or completely missing. Coral and Pearl had only given it a cursory dusting, and hadn’t used this room for anything else, as it was mostly empty. A crystal chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling, draped in cobwebs that neither of them could reach. Windows lined one side of the room, allowing enough light to see, the heavy red drapes still held in place from when they had last been tied back. Coral’s feet tapped on the floor as she stepped into the room, searching the shadows. At the far end, she caught movement, right by an ornate sitting chair and table. She started for it, then froze as she heard a scuffle. The table shifted, then everything went still. Coral picked up her pace and hurried to the chair, crouched down and stared at the black snapdragon that was now sitting on its haunches with its back to her. Clamped in its claws was a mouse, wriggling to free itself. The snapdragon watched with fascinated fixation. It lowered its head, sniffed it for a long moment. Coral half expected it to eat the mouse, except when it opened its mouth, it licked it instead.
She hoped that snapdragon had a stomach made of steel to be able to withstand whatever nasty germs the mouse carried with it. She really didn’t want to watch a mouse be eaten alive either. Coral didn’t mind the mice being caught and eaten; she just didn’t want to see it happen. It was a little too soon having been prey in a game of hunt.
“Alright, put that down,” Coral said gently, unsure if she should reach out or not. The snapdragon might snap at her having found something it wanted to actually eat.
It ignored her and kept licking the creature. With each pass of its tongue, the mouse grew wetter, its fur clumping.
“I really don’t want you getting sick,” Coral said, shuffling forwards. It continued to ignore her, so against her better judgement, she reached out and picked the snapdragon up by the middle. It didn’t let go of the mouse.
“Let go of it,” she told the snapdragon, trying to pry apart its legs. The snapdragon was surprisingly strong for such a little creature. After a moment of struggle, the mouse was released and fell to the floor and ran as fast as it could go into the shadows. The snapdragon stared after it, turning its head so that it could watch the mouse leave.
“I’ll find you something else to eat. Better than a dead mouse. Maybe Pearl will come back with goat or chicken for you,” she told it as it hung in her arm. It didn’t seem to mind her holding it, and it was warm, so she kept it in her arms as she turned around, tucking her other arm beneath it to leverage it up more comfortably.
At least, she would hope that it preferred chicken or goat. Coral didn’t fancy the idea of having to gather mice to feed the snapdragons. She scrunched her face up in distaste as she envisioned herself placing an order for a dozen dead rats and mice.
Come midwinter, the dead vermin would all rise and then she really would have an infestation problem, even if it were for a single night. “You better learn to eat mice somewhere I can’t see. I don’t think I could stomach watching that,” she told it.
The snapdragon looked up at her then back to where the mouse had disappeared. A chill ran down her spine, and though she knew that most of the ghosts here didn’t hold her in contempt, Coral made her way back to the Winter Salon, her nerves on edge. A warm fireplace and the rustle and squeaks of the snapdragons would sooth her uneasiness. She settled down on the floor by the fire’s hearth, propping a few pillows for comfort around her, and set the snapdragon down so that it had free reign of the room.
The door creaked open, and Coral flinched. The doorway was empty, though she knew one of the ghosts had wanted to let her know they had entered the room. The door wouldn’t have opened on its own otherwise. Coral was about to enquire why to the room at large, when a little blue ball rolled along the floor and bounced off her knee. This caught the snapdragon’s attention, and it went prancing after it. It caught the ball, trotted proudly back to Coral and dropped it before her. The ball rolled away forcefully in another direction, and Coral watched in odd fascination, as an invisible ghost played fetch with a tiny dragon.