The night was young, the moon having just risen. The cold air brushed the ground, and the wooden huts lit up with yellow candle light.

But not long after, the huts darkened once more, and the doors opened.

Half elves trickled out of their homes, each of them having slumped shoulders. Not all of them were of the same hide—some looked human, some had scales, and some looked just like elves.

The village wasn’t big, only having seven houses. Everyone knew each other, but no one spoke a word. Even if they knew each other, most of them weren’t friends—they'd been “harvested” from who knew where and thrown into this village. If friendship could form among them, it would be between their children.

Horlum and Fredrinn also got out of the house, with Horlum carrying the “story book” they found.

Seeing the two, who were obviously younger than the adults, the half elves’ eyes focused on them for a moment.

“What’s going on?” Fredrinn whispered, hiding behind Horlum.

The half elves quickly lost interest, and all ten of them walked toward the dark forest.

Horlum sighed. “They’re off to work,” he said.

“In the middle of the night?” Fredrinn asked, his gaze never leaving the backs of the half elves.

“Well… yeah. I don't know what their work is like, I was enrolled in the academy before I could try it,” Horlum bit his lower lip. “But I heard it's not innocent.”

“...I see,” Fredrinn averted his gaze. If he didn't understand the meaning behind Horlum's words, he wasn't Fredrinn!

“Come on, let's meet my childhood friend,” Horlum pulled Fredrinn's hand.

“Huh?” Fredrinn, unable to respond, was dragged off by Horlum to one of the houses.

The house looked similar to Horlum's—and as he knocked on the door, it creaked loudly as though it was taking its last breaths.

“Zhen! Zhen, come out, it's me!” Horlum yelled, his voice swallowed by the forest around them.

Fredrinn breathed in the cold air. The trees were still, and the crickets were sleeping. Not even one mosquito could be seen.

A few seconds later, the door remained closed.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Didn’t you say… aside from the adults, everyone was enrolled into the academy?” Fredrinn asked in askance, smacking his kips while rubbing his arm.

“Yeah, but—”

Suddenly, the door creaked open. The stuffy air in the house greeted them, but no one was behind the door.

“Huh?” Horlum stared blankly at the empty interior, while Fredrinn felt his blood freezing like ice.

“Horlum… why is your village haunted?” He shuddered.

Just earlier, Horlum was talking to a book, though the book stopped responding mid-way. Now, the door opened itself!

“It's not… Zhen's probably playing a joke,” Horlum took a deep breath, cautiously entering the house.

“Hey, don't go in,” Fredrinn’s meek voice barely reached Horlum’s ears. “What if the ghost is murderous?”

Horlum chuckled. “I told you, it's not a—”

BAM!

The door slammed shut.

“...ghost…” Horlum stood in front of the closed wooden door, his eyes slowly growing wide.

“Shit.”

He looked around, his eyes jumping like a grasshopper. Apart from the bed, there was nothing else in the house. Nothing else but a single plant—a daffodil with two white and yellow flowers.

The daffodil waved its leaves, a pale, green light coating them. “Horlum, it's been a while,” a faint voice echoed out from the plant.

Horlum sucked in a breath, his chest feeling stuffy.

Stuttering, he asked. “Zhen…?”

The daffodil flowers slowly closed, before blooming once again. “Isn't it nice?,” Zhen’s voice, smooth and crisp like a singer’s, traveled in his ears. “I'm a druid.”

“But… how…?” Horlum walked toward the plant, his feet unsteady. The floor beneath him sank, creaking, but he barely noticed it.

“Well, I'm a genius. That's how,” Zhen laughed lightly. “Anyway, what brings you here?”

Horlum gulped, sitting down beside the plant. “Where are you?” He asked.

“...somewhere. I don't know where, I'm lost,” Zhen sighed, the daffodil bending down as if to wilt.

Horlum nodded. “Where's auntie, then?”

“You didn't see her?” Zhen's voice sounded confused. “I can't see anything like this, I can only hear things. And mom is mute,” he said.

“Auntie wasn't here... Oh right, I have a friend, I should let him in,” Horlum stood up in a hurry, opening the door.

There, Fredrinn was standing in place like a statue.

“Fred?” Horlum called, but Fredrinn didn't answer.

“Horlum? You have a—er, you brought a friend?” Zhen's faint voice echoed from behind.

“Yeah… ha… you shouldn't have slammed the door shut. Look, he's frozen,” Horlum poked Fredrinn's chest.

“Ih—?!” Fredrinn jolted awake, stumbling back and nearly falling down.

“H—Horlum?!”

Before Fredrinn could ramble on, Horlum dragged him inside the house and closed the door behind them.

“Don't worry, there's no ghosts. Just… a druid,” Horlum said, and Zhen’s chuckle sounded out.

“A druid?!” Fredrinn clutched heaving chest, air chilling his nostrils and lungs.

“Zhen? Can you explain?” Horlum said helplessly.

Hearing this, the daffodil waved around. “Hello, Horlum's friend. I'm Zhen, a druid.”

…

“How are you a druid?” Fredrinn asked, sitting in front of the daffodil next to Horlum.

Next to the three of them was a candle lamp, giving them some light to see things. Now, the green glow from the daffodil had disappeared, Zhen deeming it unnecessary.

“I just am,” Zhen said. “What’s your name?”

“How did you become a druid?” Fredrinn asked, a silly smile plastered on his face.

Seeing the two, Horlum couldn’t help but have a smile of his own.

“I trained. What’s your name?” Zhen asked, the daffodil leaves bending toward Fredrinn.

“Oh… What can you do?” Fredrinn asked.

“Druid things,” Zhen replied, and as Fredrinn opened his mouth, the daffodil leaves blocked his lips.

“Calm down. Will you tell me your name now?” Zhen asked, his voice calm, but with an audible sigh.

Fredrinn blushed. “I’m Fredrinn,” he said, and added, “Are you an elf?”

The daffodil flowers closed. “I’m a half elf,” Zhen said. “But my elf blood dominates my other half. So I look like an elf.”

Fredrinn tilted his head, looking at Horlum. Horlum nodded, but didn’t open his mouth to speak.

“I thought only elves could become druids?” Fredrinn asked, feeling scammed by the books he read.

Zhen chuckled, the two flowers blooming once again. “I’m a genius.”

“Hmph,” Horlum snorted. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why do your flowers keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” Zhen asked, the daffodil leaning toward Horlum.

“It keeps closing and opening,” Fredrinn answered on Horlum’s behalf.

“Really?” The daffodil faced Fredrinn, before straightening up. “Er, did it do it again now?”

“Nope,” Fredrinn shook his head.

“Oh… Then, I don’t know. I’m training right now, so maybe that’s why,” Zhen said.

Horlum hummed. “Wait, are you down in the ravine?”

“The ravine?” The daffodil tilted, its two flowers closing up. “I haven’t been there for a while.”

Horlum blinked. “Then what happened to my plant?”

The daffodil turned away from them.

“It died, sorry.”