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Back at the farm, the Mayor and several others are awaiting their return. The amount of people there has grown substantially and, as those from the Sheriff’s house have arrived, so has the number of guns. A man in hunting gear sits on top of the roof, watching the surrounding area with his rifle at the ready. Every few minutes he raises his weapon to look at something through the scope.
Before Lukas can bring the tractor to a full stop, Fynn jumps off.
The Mayor asks him, “How did it go? Do you have—” She doesn't get a chance to finish her sentence as Fynn walks up to her.
He balls his hand into a fist and from no more than a pace away yells, “Why didn't you tell us?!”
The Mayor recoils slightly. “Tell you what?”
“Don’t pretend you didn't know about the magic ghosts!”
The Mayor stammers, “There… were no… ghosts.”
Fynn opens his mouth, but before he can say anything else the Sheriff puts her hand on his shoulder and says, “Calm down. I don’t like her either, but she would have told us had she known. Right?!”
The Mayor quickly looks back at Fynn and says, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? I had no idea. What happened?”
The Sheriff answers instead of Fynn. “At first everything was quiet, so we just entered the pharmacy and started rummaging through the shelves. The pharmacist and the two other people working there must’ve died in the storeroom. They were deathly pale and covered in gray veins and fog seemed to be leaking out of their bodies. As we got closer to them, the fog came together and ghostly figures rose from their bodies. They instantly swarmed Mr. Rot. I’m not a coward, but I can’t even begin to tell you how freaking scary that was. One of them also managed to touch Noah so we know that where they touch skin or fur, it immediately turns white. He said their touch burned like hell. We of course immediately tried to shoot them, but our bullets just passed through them. Shooting the corpses they rose from also didn’t do anything. I don’t know what they did to him, but after screaming, Mr. Rot’s body crumpled to the floor, and another ghost rose from where he fell.”
The Mayor says, “I swear, I had no idea that the people who died from that accursed fog turned into ghosts. Everyone will tell you; we saw nothing like that when we left.”
Several people from the town mutter in agreement.
The Mayor shakes her head. “First, half the people and wildlife get turned into fantasy creatures, and now we find out that the magical death-fog that swallowed our town turns people into magical murder ghosts. Please at least tell me that they can’t leave the cloud.”
The Sheriff replies, “I’m not sure, but it looked like the ghosts are made from the fog. I think it’s safe to assume they can’t leave it.”
The doctor, who silently watched the entire scene, steps out of the crowd. “Hmm. Were there any signs those people are still alive? If they are and we can get them out of the cloud, they could recover.”
The Sheriff shrugs. “If you want to try, Doc, it's your funeral. I can tell you though that shooting the corpses did not deter the ghosts and the fog… it really feels like it’s eating you up from the inside. I’m sure those people are dead, or at least their bodies are.”
“Well,” the Mayor claps her hands and turns to address the small crowd, “so much death and bad news. Best to get it all out of the way now. Me and Mr. Kalk have made an inventory of everything left on the farm. Some of the cows transformed into these things with big chests. At least one of them transformed into a massive, armored thing that busted down half the barn and crushed several other animals. It’s a huge mess. There were also some geese, but they’re all either dead or gone. Anyway, there are no animals left. Parts of the fields were also transformed, but we might be able to harvest some things from them. We should be able to survive on this, but we’ll have to figure out a way to find more food. Luckily, fresh water won’t be a problem.”
The Mayor takes a breath and looks around the gathered crowd. “Anyway, a lot of you said you are going to leave to find family and the like. While you're obviously all free to do as you please, I think it's suicidal to travel anywhere alone, at least until we know more about what prowls our lands. While I know you're all eager to find your friends and families, you won't find them if you get killed, and we already know there are several creatures that can kill an armed man. Therefore, I think we should go about this in an organized manner. Since most of you are from nearby towns, we’re going to try and come up with a plan to safely reach anyone nearby. I know just waiting doesn’t sound very appealing, but all I’m asking is that you wait until tomorrow morning. Also, since we're all gathered here and High Rock is covered in a deadly fog, I declare this the new town of Rot Rock.”
Astrid, still on Ranger’s back, almost expects someone to cheer. The only response the Mayor gets though is a lot of mumbling. Suddenly Lukas yells, “So you just want us to wait here while our families and children might be getting butchered by monsters?”
“All I want is for everyone to wait until tomorrow so we can come up with a plan. Then we can make sure we find as many people as possible, without losing anyone. Think about it. If you just head out, you’ll be on your own with nothing but your own two eyes and your gun if you have one. If we work together, we’ll have a vehicle, a few horses, a bunch of guns and dozens of eyes.”
“Aren’t we going to get some help from the government? What do we pay taxes for?” someone else asks.
The Mayor quickly replies, “Well, since we live in a democracy, we are the government. So by helping ourselves, it’s like the government is helping us. Also, since all communications and computers are down and none of us have a job anymore, no one has to pay taxes… for now.” She smiles, but no one laughs. Her smile fades as quickly as it came and she concludes her small speech by turning away.
As the crowd disperses, Dr. Moore walks up to the small group.
“Who is that?” He points at the sick girl still clinging to Poldi's back.
The Sheriff answers, “A girl Fynn and Astrid found while searching a house. Noah, Astrid, please help the doctor carry her upstairs. I'll take the horses back to the stable. Fynn, I think you should be the one to bring your mother the bad news.”
“I can walk myself,” the girl croaks as she slowly lowers herself off the horse. Her knees barely manage to catch her as she drops down.
Astrid rushes to support her. Together they walk into the house.
“Bite mark, pale skin, bloodshot eyes and I assume a racking fever. Same as Mrs. Rot,” the doctor says as they climb the stairs.
“Do you know what's wrong with me? Is it bad?”
“I'm afraid the only thing I know for certain is that this disease can be transmitted by bites and most likely induces aggression in its victims at some point.”
“So… is there any way to cure it?”
“I don't know. The group that brought you back was supposed to recover medicine for a potential treatment. Alas, they did not succeed, so all we can do is wait and see.”
She stops dead in her tracks, almost causing Astrid to trip over her. “What do you mean we should just wait and see? I thought you were a doctor.”
“I am, but I’m not a wizard,” he replies as he opens the door to the small room.
Astrid doesn’t want to enter. She doesn’t want to be there when Fynn tells his mother the bad news and she doesn’t want to hear her cry.
“I’ll wait outside,” she whispers to Noah after the girl and doctor enter.
He lets out a sharp breath but does not object.
Fynn and Noah enter and push the door shut behind them. With nothing else to do, Astrid sits down next to the door and stretches her legs. She feels exhausted, yet restless as well.
Even though she does her best to clear her mind, her ears focus on the muffled voices and crying coming from inside the room. She doesn’t want to hear it because she doesn’t want to feel bad. She almost feels bad for not wanting to feel bad. ‘That would be stupid. Whatever caused this fog and created these monsters is what killed those people and if I start crying after every lost person, I might as well kill myself now’.
Astrid leans back and stares up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t even have a right to be sad. Even though my family isn’t here, they’re probably not dead, and I got incredibly lucky. I wasn’t infected by some weird new disease, didn’t get immediately killed by a monster, and aside from a few quirks, my new body is at least as good as my old one.’
Suddenly, the door next to her opens and Noah leaves the room.
“I can’t take this,” he says and slumps down next to Astrid. “What happened in town was terrible, but what were we supposed to do? Mr. Rot knew it was going to be risky and how were we supposed to fight ghosts? How?”
Astrid’s voice is barely a whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t come with you, but I got so scared. It was like every fiber in my body told me not to go in there.”
“No. We should have listened to you and the horses’ instincts. Nothing good came of this trip. The people that were going to die are still going to die and we lost a good man.”
Astrid wants to say something but doesn’t know what. They sit in silence until Noah changes the subject. “So…what are you going to do now?”
Astrid considers the question. “I guess I’ll see if my parents are waiting for me in a nearby town. If they’re not, I’ll head for my grandparents' place on my own.”
“I’m also thinking about heading to my hometown. Problem is, I’m supposed to protect the people here and I’m afraid I wouldn’t make the journey anyway.”
Astrid hasn’t thought about that herself. All of a sudden, the thought that her family might be some monster’s dinner creeps into her mind. She doesn’t want to think such a thing right now, or ever, so she shakes the thoughts out of her head. “I can't believe that only two days ago you could drive through the entire country and your biggest concern would be avoiding traffic jams. Now we’re worried that we might be murdered by monsters the moment we step out of this building.”
Noah scoffs. “Everything feels so surreal. Like, I know this isn't a dream, but I can't believe that what I see, smell, hear and feel is real. You know what I mean?”
Astrid nods. “I feel exactly the same way. I’m actually surprised by how well I'm taking all this – and how everyone else is taking it too, for that matter. We are all helping each other face this new world. I mean, the Sheriff and Mr. Rot took people in without question. We risked our lives just now in an attempt to get medicine for people we don't even know.”
Noah smiles. “Well, not everyone is taking the lack of electricity, or their transformations as well as us. We also got lucky. You more than me, but at least our new bodies are the same gender we had before. You were a woman before, right?”
Astrid’s eyes widen. “Yes, of course!”
Noah replies, “Sorry for asking, but it’s obviously not an ‘of course’ thing.”
Astrid gives him a puzzled glance. “What do you mean?”
Noah looks at her as though she’s stupid, then a realization dawns on him. “Right... You don’t know anyone from around here, so there is no way you could know, but you saw the Sheriff’s wife?” He lets out a hearty laugh.
Astrid looks taken aback. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because the Sheriff was a man known for his… let’s just say very conservative views.”
Astrid frowns. “You mean the Sheriff was a man?”
Noah laughs. “Yes. Why did you think the Mayor asked him – or rather her – whether she was still married?”
“Talk about adding insult to injury. Yeah okay. I wasn’t sure, but it’s kind of obvious in hindsight,” Astrid says, looking down at herself as though to make sure everything is still more or less as it should be.
“Yeah, I mean I got a pretty bad deal getting turned into essentially a toddler with fur and cat ears, but being transformed into a kobold and a woman… Brrr.” He shivers, then adds, “No offense.”
“None taken. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be a man either.” Astrid laughs, then asks, “But why was the Mayor asking him like that? Didn't she know him?”
Noah chuckles and shakes his head. “Of course she did. She was taunting him. They really hate each other, you know.”
“Why’s that?”
“They’re political polar opposites. He hates gays and socialists, loves guns and is an army vet, while she hates guns, the military and has let’s just say very social ideals. He was a member of the city council and they both constantly made their very strong opinions public knowledge over social media. I wish I could show you their Facebook posts, it was quite hilarious.”
“If they both had such controversial views, why did they get voted into office?” Astrid wonders.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
“Well, thing is, while they both constantly spout political nonsense, Sheriff Winkler was, or rather is, an epic cop and does a lot of volunteer work for someone who hates socialists. Our Mayor on the other hand just gets the job done and she gets it done well, even if she’s a jerk. That’s all that matters, at least to me. They're both basically the kind of people whose opinions you don't really share, but they get the job done so you vote for them anyway. Plus, amusement. You know what I mean?”
“I guess.” Astrid shrugs.
They hear someone coming up the stairs, and a moment later, the Mayor appears.
“There you are. We saved you something to eat, if you want it.”
Not needing to be told twice, the two follow her downstairs. Astrid is hoping for a warm meal but is sorely disappointed by what remains on the table. Nothing but cereal.
‘Still. Better than nothing,’ she thinks.
“Oh and you." The Mayor stops Astrid as she's about to sit down. “I know you elves have a ravenous appetite but please only eat one bowl. We need to make this stuff last for as long as possible.”
Astrid frowns at her, but then nods and fills her bowl to the brim with cereal and milk.
The Mayor sits down as well and rests her head on her hands. She watches the two eat with a tired gaze. Astrid is too focused on her meager meal to notice or care, but Noah asks, “Is everything all right Ms. Pillinger?”
Her gaze seems to refocus before she says, “What? Oh yes, everything’s fine. I’m just very tired. That’s all.”
Noah nods and continues eating his cornflakes. “How are things going with fortifying the farm?”
“Things are going… fine. We decided to build the fortifications by turning decrepit cars on their side to fill the gaps between buildings. We could really use some mortar and welding tools, but I’m afraid of sending out another expedition.”
Noah nods again.
A moment later, Dr. Moore bursts through the door and slumps down at the table. “You’re Astrid, right?”
Astrid, who’s busy shoveling chocolate squares into her mouth, responds with only an, “Mhm?”
“Once you’re done with that, I want to do some experiments with you.”
Astrid stops mid-bite and with a full mouth asks, “What?”
“Nothing dangerous, just a few questions and pictures I want you to look at. Since there’s nothing I can do for the sick, I want to figure out exactly how different elves, kobolds, and giants are from humans.”
“I get why you call me an elf. It fits pretty well, but why do you call Noah a kobold?” Astrid asks him, assuming that's actually what the doctor meant.
“Well, he’s small, and I think calling his species dwarf wouldn’t fit. I mean, what else are we supposed to call them?”
Astrid shrugs and says, “When you say kobold, I think of a small wrinkly man. Not…”
“A teddy bear?” Noah supplies and adds, “I’d rather be called a kobold though. Even if teddy bear would be a more accurate name.”
Astrid gulps down the rest of her cereal. With new energy, she stands up. “All right, Doctor, how is this elven body different from my old human one?”
The doctor smiles. “Answer my questions and I might be able to tell you.”
Dr. Moore leads Astrid up the stairs and into Mr. Rot’s office. He sits down where the man, or rather kobold, sat when they’d first arrived. Astrid is surprised how quickly the doctor has converted the farmer's office into his own.
“All right. I’ve already run these tests on the Sheriff and a few others who were transformed similarly to you. I just want to confirm my theories and make sure they apply to all of you. First of all, look at this.” He hands her a sheet of paper covered in colorful green, brown, yellow and blue circles. “Tell me what number you see.”
Astrid knows these things, and also knows what the fact she can’t see any number means. “I’m colorblind.”
“I take it that means you can’t see the six. This chart, as well as the ones I used to test the others, are in fact designed to test which colors you can and can’t see. The six at the center of that paper is invisible to anyone with protanopia. In essence, I think your species is unable to see the color red.”
“Then why do I see red all the time? Especially right now. You're literally emitting a red-orange glow.”
“That’s the interesting thing.” He walks to the window and closes the blinds, plunging the office into darkness. All color in the room disappears and is slowly replaced by faint red outlines. Astrid can still see the doctor as an obvious red shape. His features are a bit blurred, but she can easily make out where his skin ends and his clothes begin. She can also make out a red teapot sitting on the table.
“I am almost completely blind, but I think you can see me quite well as an obvious, red figure,” he states more than asks. The red shape moves and a moment later the blinds open again, returning color to the room.
“Like I said, I do see red. Then why can’t I see the number?”
“I have a theory. The cones in your eyes that are supposed to see the color red still see the color red, only instead of the red we humans see, they are tuned to the deep infrared. What you see as red is the heat, or rather the light emitted by my warm body. I also assume you saw this thing.” He lifts up the bright red teapot.
“I did. So I can see heat?” Astrid smiles. “Now that you say it, it’s pretty obvious. Are there any other cool things you’ve figured out about us?”
“I can’t say anything for certain, but I have created several theories based on what I’ve observed so far. First of all, you are all abnormally fast and dexterous compared to humans. You also seem to have an extreme appetite. This leads me to assume that you have heightened metabolisms. I have also observed that you seem to have aggressive tendencies, especially when hungry. Considering all these things, I think elves are most likely a species of primarily predatory omnivores that evolved for moderate environments, where your thermal imaging would be most useful.”
“Uh-huh. Makes sense, I guess,” Astrid says.
The doctor continues, “The thing that seems really weird to me is how your eyes prevent themselves from being blinded by their own heat. It’s something even electronic infrared cameras need to worry about and I’d think it would be even worse in a warm-blooded creature. It should make it impossible, but I guess nature, or magic, finds a way. But I’m getting carried away. Now for a few other things. You know how to read, right?”
Astrid nods. She knows exactly what he’s getting at.
“Have you tried to read anything since your transformation?”
“Yeah. It was much more difficult than it should have been.”
The doctor smiles. “I can only assume it has something to do with how your brains process information. The others said that letters seem to be moving, even though it’s obvious that they do not. The only thing I can tell you is that this is similar to what humans with dyslexia experience. It seems to be a feature of your entire species.”
“So, this… dyslexia. Do you think it’s permanent?” Astrid asks.
“Since it’s not just a side effect of the transformation, it probably is. I hope you were not an avid reader, because small writing in large blocks will likely be extremely difficult, if not impossible, for you to decipher.”
Astrid stares at him. “I am… or was.” She grabs the paper on the table in front of him and stares at the lines of writing. The moment she tries to read the text, the letters seem to start moving. Frustrated, she throws it back down. She never really thought of being able to read as something particularly important. But now that she’s barely able to do it anymore, it feels like an incredible handicap.
The doctor gives her a weak smile. “Sorry about that. On the bright side, your reactions seem to be slightly faster than a human’s. If that is any sort of consolation.”
It’s not, but Astrid doesn’t say anything.
The doctor waits a few moments for an answer. When none comes, he continues, “Now, one last thing. How do you feel?”
“As normal as possible… I guess. I’m not in pain, if that’s what you’re asking.”
The doctor frowns and shakes his head. “No. Not that. I mean, how are you feeling emotionally?”
“I thought you were a doctor, not a psychiatrist. Well, I feel angry and frustrated because I have no idea how to cope with my transformation. Maybe a bit happy because not everything is bad. I’m sad because my family isn’t here…”
“Mhm.” The doctor nods. “Have you, by any chance, felt particularly angry and/or hungry since your transformation?”
Astrid turns her head slightly. “I have felt a lot hungrier since my transformation. I assume it’s because this large and strong body just needs a lot more food than my weak and small previous self. What does that have to do with how I feel?”
“Well, you see, I’ve noticed something. Overall, your species seems a bit more inclined to react with anger to things that would cause fear in a human. Most likely because your fight instinct is much stronger than your flight instinct. Only to a certain degree, of course.”
Astrid remembers how she had the unnatural urge to attack the policewoman when she aimed her gun at her.
The doctor pauses to watch Astrid’s reaction. “In animals, it’s usually predators who have a more pronounced fight response. Which is actually why I assume your species is primarily designed to be hunters. That and the fact that your vision highlights other living beings, of course.”
Astrid shrugs. “Aren’t humans hunters too?”
The doctor scowls, as though she said something that’s only half right. “Humans were originally less predators and more opportunistic hunters. You lack both claws and strong jaws, which means you would have a lot of difficulty fighting creatures who possess those things.”
Astrid doesn’t really see where he’s going.
“To make things short, I'm afraid that you, your species, might be a predator designed to hunt other sentient creatures. Or rather, other relatively small creatures without claws or big jaws, but with the ability to easily hide and use tools. Like humans or kobolds.”
Astrid feels like the doctor has punched her in the gut. This sudden revelation, or rather accusation, leaves her too stunned to respond.
The doctor sees her surprised expression and quickly continues, “Not that you would ever eat someone, of course. It's possible that when you become hungry, your instincts might make you very aggressive and prone to irrational and violent behavior…” He trails off.
Astrid narrows her eyes and looks straight down at him. Her surprise turns to anger. “Doctor, are you saying that because I’m tall, strong and have heat vision, I'm going to attack and eat people?” She feels the same anger rise up as when she attacked the bird. ‘Calm down. Lashing out would only prove his theory right.’
The doctor doesn't look away but stares right into her eyes. His voice is calm but tense as he continues, “I'm not saying that. I said that I don’t think you would do something like that. What I am saying, is that you're a living being. A living being that might be designed, either by nature or by whatever magical process did all this, to hunt other lifeforms. If you are aware of this, you could resist these instincts or urges when they come up much more easily.”
“That stupid event screwed up the world and turned me into whatever the hell this thing is.” She gestures at her body. “Call me an elf but don’t call me a monster. Thank God or whatever did this to us, I'm still in absolute control of everything I do, and that's a fact. Not a theory.”
“And I don’t doubt that. It's also a fact that hard times are ahead. If I’m wrong, good. If I’m right, you’ll know what to watch out for.”
Astrid walks towards the door. “Sure. While I do that, I think you should focus a bit more on doing your actual job. You know, healing the sick, instead of creating theories about our transformations.”
She pulls open the door but before she leaves, Astrid turns back. With a scowl on her face and sarcasm almost tangible in her voice, she adds, “It’s nice knowing that the thing my eyes do is called thermal imaging, but I figured out that these eyes highlight living things before you told me.”
She slams the door shut behind her before he has a chance to say anything else.
As she stomps past the makeshift infirmary the doctor has set up for Mrs. Rot, the girl and anyone else who might get sick, she notices the door is open.
Her legs stop mid-stride as a weird curiosity makes her take a peek inside. The bed that the sick woman was tied to is now empty. She and the girl are sitting on the floor, stuffing things into a backpack. Fynn is standing next to them, handing them objects to pack.
Without entering the room, Astrid asks, “What’s going on? Why are you leaving?”
The woman looks up. “My husband already died because of me. We’re going to head into the forest. If the disease kills us, no one else gets hurt. If we survive, we’ll be back.”
“You’re going with her?” Astrid asks the girl.
The girl nods. “I don’t want to die here, tied to a bed.”
Astrid feels the weight of Fynn’s revolver on her hip. She pulls it out of its holster and holds it out to him. “I wanted to give this back to you.”
Fynn places the things he’s holding on the bed and carefully takes the weapon out of Astrid’s hands.
Giving the gun up leaves her feeling both naked and as though a weight has been removed from her shoulders.
“I remember when you bought this thing,” Mrs. Rot whispers. “It was two years ago, right after you got your hunting license. I was furious at you for wasting so much money on that hobby.” She lets out a weak chuckle, but Fynn doesn’t seem to hear it. His eyes are fixed on his own blurred reflection in the gun’s material.
The woman’s gaze turns to Astrid, her lips forming a weak smile. “His father never approved of his hobby either, you know. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m happy he ignored us.”
Astrid looks at the woman with an awkward smile of her own. She isn’t sure whether she’s supposed to stay or leave.
To her surprise, Fynn looks up. “I wanted to thank you for not letting me run into the fog.”
Astrid is more than surprised. She expected him to blame her for his father's death. Of course, she’s glad he’s being reasonable.
He adds, “Turns out the horses had better judgment than me… or my father.”
Astrid doesn’t know what to say. “You’re… welcome?”
Fynn grabs the revolver by the barrel and offers it back to Astrid. “Keep it. For now.”
Astrid slowly takes the weapon once more. “Don’t you need it?”
“I have my rifle. Besides, I’m going to be honest with you. I told you that this thing is a caliber .38. It’s a very weak type of ammunition, barely usable for hunting before the fog. It offers some protection, but I don’t think it’s actually going to kill anything more powerful than a human. I also don’t have any spare ammunition here, so those six shots are all I have. It’s better than nothing, but I don’t need it.”
“Anything is better than nothing.” Astrid realizes that what she just said might come across as ungrateful and quickly adds, “Thanks.”
She holds the gun in her hand for a second, giving him a final chance to change his mind, then places it back in its holster.
Astrid helps Fynn’s mother and the girl pack their backpacks. As they prepare to leave, Fynn’s mother says, “I can’t believe a normal Saturday turned into this.”
“I’ll accompany you outside,” Astrid tells them and nods at Fynn.
The girl and Fynn’s mother smile and pick up their things.
From his new office, Dr. Moore watches them walk away. A sigh escapes his lips. ‘Too bad I can’t help them. But still… it’s best they leave.’ As much as his professional curiosity wants to study this novel disease, he doesn't want to watch whatever’s in store for these two. At least this way it’s out of his hands. For better, or for worse.
Outside, under the cover of one of the barns, sit two kobolds. The teacher that lived in High Rock before the event is doing her best to teach the weird kobold their language. Being a mother and having worked with children almost her entire life, she does her best to instruct him by showing him pictures of objects and saying the appropriate word. Even though the kobold speaks no language she’s ever heard of, she has already managed to teach him a few basic words. Together they set up a rudimentary system of communication using gestures, and the words yes and no. The male kobold is eager to communicate and exceptionally good at memorizing, which makes him far easier to teach than the average third-grader. He also seems to trust her a lot more than he does the Sheriff or Mayor, which might have something to do with the fact that they’re both kobolds.
They are in the middle of their lesson, when something distracts him. He notices a high elf and a human with one of those boom-staffs walking two clearly sick people out of the settlement. Upon seeing the bandages he immediately recognizes the disease. “Yeniye-krovi. Dunom-Bre.” He whispers its name and curses.
His teacher quickly repeats the words in her head. Sometimes, doing this assigns meaning to them. An odd effect the old teacher attributes to her excellent language skills and perception. She doesn't perfectly replicate the first sentence, but she has heard him say the second one before, and by saying the words in her mind, she somehow knows what they mean. Bad craftsmanship. A phrase that communicates extreme displeasure about something, in the same way saying “crap” or “shit” would. “What’s wrong?” she asks him.
His gaze follows the small group now walking down the road. It’s obvious to him that the people here do not know what will happen to these two. He knows from many other encounters that they will be trouble, but decides not to intervene. Even if he wanted to, there is no way for him to tell these people what's going on with those two. Sitting on the sidelines is not something he’s used to. On the other hand, learning an alien language from another kobold in a world that makes no sense is also an entirely new experience. The gods obviously don’t plan on leaving him in his comfort zone any time soon. Then again, when have they ever?
He smiles and says, “Nothing.” A word he learned only a few minutes ago.
His teacher smiles. “Good. You're learning quickly.”
He didn't understand her words but got that she praised him. He pushes the two sick out of his mind and returns to studying.
Since the farm has nowhere near enough beds and couches for everyone to sleep on, the Mayor has come up with a fair way to determine who gets to sleep in them: a lottery.
To Astrid’s dismay, she doesn’t even get to sleep in the house. Instead, the number 34 on her ticket tells her she will be sleeping in the attic above the horse stalls.
The relatively long room has a low ceiling that forces her to move with her head ducked, and is currently being used to store tools and hay. While the smell of horses doesn’t bother her, the combination of stale air and lack of a bed or even a couch makes for a sub-optimal sleeping spot.
Lukas’s head appears through the hole in the floor used to climb into the room from the stable below. “Well. It’s not much, but better than sleeping outside, I guess.”
“Let's get some fresh air in here,” Julia says. She opens the door that is likely used to lift hay into the room.
After preparing a few bales as makeshift beds, they all go to sleep. The blanket Astrid uses smells old and even more like horse than the rest of the barn, but luckily she’s able to fall asleep just as quickly as she did yesterday.