Chapter 15 - There's Good Magic—And Bad

The journey home had been dark and frightful once Hollie had left the main road and headed back into the forest. The trees that she’d always found beautiful were now distorted by night and shadow into unnamed creatures that stalked her as she wound her way through the woods, and the sounds of branches snapping and leaves shuffling filled her heart with unease like never before.

If the forest around Spritespring Hollow could hold thunderwolves, what else might be lurking about? Big cats with sharp fangs ready to pounce? Wild bears newly awakened from winter’s slumber? And those were just ordinary creatures. What sort of magical creatures—or monsters—might she encounter?

She hadn’t been in this world long enough to know, and she hadn’t thought to ask any of her new friends or acquaintances just what sorts of things lurked in the darkness. For the most part, everything had been lovely. But after the thunderwolf, and this overheard plot, doubts were beginning to form in Hollie’s mind once more.

It was with great relief that she finally glimpsed the soft, golden glow from the windows of her cottage. Feeling as if the forest were closing in around her, she quickened her pace until she had found herself safely within the confines of her quaint little home.

The fire in the fireplace still crackled warmly, though she would need to add more wood to keep it going through the night. And when she’d set her backpack down and walked into the kitchen, she was greeted with the sound of a soft, sweet melody being sung by none other than her tea pot.

Emily, she thought. The enchanted tea pot.

image [https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53994228268_022e41e40c_b.jpg]

Hollie pulled out a chair and listened for a moment. It was an unexpected surprise, and, as Fiona had said, or rather written, it really did put her in a better mood. The fear and the tension of the past hour slowly melted away like the coat of ice over a pond on a warm day in early spring.

The song Emily sang seemed to be a lullaby, though it wasn’t one Hollie was familiar with—not that she could recall too many from her own world. She remembered one about a baby falling out of a tree, which didn’t seem at all a reassuring thing to listen to when drifting off to sleep. And there was one about twinkling stars, but the tune eluded her. This one, though, seemed perfect in every way.

“Hush, my child, and close your eyes.

Moonlight whispers and stars arise.

Dream of forests, green and free,

Where fae folk dance and shadows flee.

The river sings a soothing tune,

Guided by the silvery moon.

Sleep now child, the night is kind,

And in your dreams will wonders shine.

Will-o-wisps light the darkling sky.

Branches sway as night winds sigh.

The land is safe, so do not fear,

For magic is close, and I am near.

Lay your head on green velvet moss,

Where woodland spirits stealthily cross.

Each dawn heralds a new sunrise,

But for now, my child, close your eyes.”

image [https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53994305234_ca613f033e_h.jpg]

When the song had ended, Emily was quiet once more, just an ordinary teapot. She didn’t answer when Hollie spoke to her, so all Hollie could do was thank her and move on.

She made herself another cup of elvenstar tea, then settled into the comfortable old chair by the fireplace in the sitting room and opened up the Codex. Words were already sprawled out across the pages.

And how was your first attempt at farming, Hollie?

It was the first time the Codex had spoken—or written—to her before she’d asked it a question.

“Exhausting, but quite enjoyable,” she answered, taking a sip of the sweet, citrusy tea.

And Mrs. Brambleburr’s cooking? I’d suppose it was delicious, and that there was quite a lot of it!

“You’re right about that!” Hollie laughed. “They kept insisting I try everything, but as hungry as I was, there was no way I could even sample it all. Mrs. Brambleburr did send some leftovers home with me. They’re in the larder now.”

Halflings are known to be a generous type of folk. Rather plain and inconspicuous at first glance, but once you get to know them, they’re quite surprising!

“I can see that.”

And are you ready for another day’s work?

Stolen story; please report.

“I am. And we should have the job finished tomorrow, which will give me some XP and a good amount of balnochs too.”

Hollie brought the cup to her lips and was about to take another sip when a thought crossed her mind.

“Codex?”

Yes, Hollie.

“What exactly are you?”

What am I? Why, I’m your Codex. I keep your Stats up to date, carry around basic information that you might need to function in this world, and am here to assist you on the quest that has summoned you to Balnochy.

Hollie frowned. “That’s not what I mean.”

It’s not?

“I mean, what are you? Are you a person stuck in a book? Or some sort of—I don’t know how to describe it—disembodied intelligence? Or are you just a book that can somehow talk?”

Ah, I see. THAT question. Well, it’s quite a good question, and I wish I had the answer myself, but I don’t. You see, I have no memory of anything before the first time you opened me up. I don’t know where I came from, or who made me, or if I ever used to be anything different. Was I a magician who trapped himself accidentally in this book? Or did a magician craft this book and create me within it? I honestly don’t know.

image [https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53993991856_09f6e50a5b_b.jpg]

Hollie furrowed her brow and let out a disappointed sigh. It wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. She wanted something that made sense. Why didn’t the Codex itself know what it was? Why didn’t Fiona know how she’d given Hollie her dress? And why didn’t Emily respond when spoken to? She’d expected they would have answers, that they would know things about this world and not be as seemingly clueless as she was.

Well, they weren’t completely clueless. At least not the Codex. It did know a lot of things, and it had been a great help. Hollie would even say it had been a friend, a constant companion when she might have otherwise been alone.

“Does it bother you that you can’t remember? Or that you don’t know?”

It took a moment for words to appear, as if the Codex were considering how to respond.

Yes…and no. A bit of both perhaps. I guess I would like to know where I came from and who made me and why. But I gather no one, talking book or not, actually knows the answers to these sorts of things. They can only guess based on the evidence around them.

“And what does the evidence tell you?” Hollie asked.

Well, it seems I was created with a purpose—that purpose being to assist you on your quest. And if I have a purpose, it would seem that I was created by a certain someone. And seeing that my purpose is noble, I would suppose that particular someone who created me had good intentions. So, at least for now, that is a good enough answer for me.

Hollie took another sip of the elvenstar tea and felt her eyelids growing heavy.

“I wish I was as easily satisfied as you, Codex,” she said, setting her now empty cup down on the table beside her. “But I don’t like not knowing. Not one bit. I have so many questions. So many thoughts swirling around in my head. I just want to know who I am, why it was me who was brought here and not someone else, and why this place is so perfect and yet in so much trouble.” She thought of the overheard plot on the way home and sighed. “And I need someone to tell me what I’m supposed to do about it all. Anyhow, good night, Codex. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She closed the book, let out a great yawn, and made her way upstairs to bed.

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Ash rubbed his hands together excitedly. “And now for the fun part: planting!”

He and Hollie had just led Oats and Barley back into their stalls. Now Hollie was following Ash to the far corner of the barn.

“Here, grab a couple of bags,” he said, “and slide them over your head like this.”

The bags were plain canvas sacks with a single broad strap. Ash looped each over his head so that he had one hanging from each shoulder.

“We’ll fill them with seeds and head back into the field to scatter them.”

Hollie gave him a quizzical look.

“You mean we just…throw them?”

Ash grinned, his dimples showing. “Yep! They’ll fall into the churned up soil. You’ll throw the seeds, and I’ll follow behind on my mare, Philomena, with a horse-drawn harrow to cover the seed as quickly as possible. Then, with a bit of rain and sunshine, we’ll have a field full of pea plants!”

“And what about the birds?” Hollie asked.

“The birds?” Ash echoed as he slid the bags from his shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if I’m just flinging seeds across the ground, surely all the birds in the area will flock over to us and try to eat it all up before you come along on your horse.”

“Oh, well, that’s where magic comes in again.”

Hollie cocked an eyebrow.

“For a people who supposedly aren’t too fond of magic, you halflings sure seem to use it quite a bit!”

Ash shrugged. “We’re not magicians, sure, but if a brilliant [Naturalist] with an intuition for magic just so happened to produce a bird-resistant species of peas a hundred years ago, who am I to complain?”

Hollie followed Ash to the large containers where all the seeds were kept.

“These are Willingham peas,” he explained, opening one of the containers. He stuck his hand in and scooped up a handful of dried peas and held them out for Hollie to see. “Sir Adam Willingham was a [Naturalist] and, some say, a [Wizard]. These peas of his keep all the birds away for a full day after they’ve been sown, which solves a problem that has plagued us for as long as we can remember.

“Back when we had those open fields, when the whole village would turn out for planting season, birds were a real pest. No matter how hard people tried, they’d always steal a bit of what was planted. Village children were put to work on planting days, following along behind the sowers with sticks and slings, trying to drive away the rooks and crows and pigeons.”

“Oh!” Hollie gasped. “That sounds like a lot of trouble.”

“Willingham peas are quite expensive to get a hold of, but they make planting so much easier that most farmers today use them if they can. So,” Ash shot her a grin. “Are you ready to get to work?”

image [https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/53994305239_b5fe65f8ff_h.jpg]

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Planting had been far easier than all the plowing they had done. Hollie still had a respectable [60 Energy] left when they’d finished by early afternoon.

“Some of it is because tossing peas into the air is surprisingly less demanding,” Hollie said with a giggle as she looked over her stats in the Codex. “But I’m guessing that perk I got yesterday helped as well. 25% less energy used for cultivation activities.”

“I’m sure that’ll do it,” Ash agreed, taking a bite of his apple.

They were sitting together again, backs resting against the barn wall and enjoying a [Plowman’s Lunch] that was spread out on a blanket before them. There was half a wheel of sharp white cheddar, two summer sausages, a few apples, and a sourdough loaf cut into thick slices.

Hollie closed the Codex and set it aside, then tore off a bit of the cheese. A cool breeze was blowing, rustling the branches of the nearby trees so that their leaves swished in unison like the sound of thousands of fluttering butterfly wings. The scent of fresh, tilled soil wafted through the air. The afternoon sun was still bright, and the sky a pleasant, powdery blue.

Everything should have been perfect, but there was still a heaviness that gnawed away at Hollie, and she knew it wouldn’t go away until she’d told someone.

“Ash?” she said his name quietly, her voice distant.

He turned to look at her, creasing his brow at the worried look on her face.

“What is it, Hollie?”

“Something happened on the way home last night,” she said. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

He set his apple down and listened as Hollie explained what she’d seen and overheard hiding in the trees beside the road yesterday evening.

“I have this horrible feeling that something bad is going to happen,” she said, looking into his face with frightened eyes. “But I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

The mischief that normally glittered in Ash’s eyes was gone, replaced with a seriousness that seemed out of place.

“Do you think Isobel knows it was you?” he asked eagerly.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Even the smallest chance?”

“I don’t think she saw my face,” Hollie answered. “And I didn’t say anything.”

Ash thought for a moment.

“That’s good at least.” He shook his head. “I’ve never liked that Isobel. There was always something off about her. But I never imagined anything as bad as this.”

“So, do you have any idea what she could be planning?”

“No,” he answered quickly. “But if she’s in league with a Stygian, it can’t be good.”

“What’s a Stygian?” Hollie asked.

“The man she was with, shrouded in black—he sounds an awful lot like a Stygian, a dark magician. I’ve only heard rumors of them, and they’ve certainly never been seen around here!” Ash's eyes were frightened now. “Hollie, we need to tell someone about what you’ve seen. Someone who might be able to help.”

“And who might that be?” she asked, feeling more and more frightened herself.

“I’d rather not say,” Ash answered. “But meet me in the village square tomorrow at 10 a.m., and we’ll visit him together.”