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The Misplaced Hero: What Do You Mean, The Demon Lord Has Already Been Defeated?
Book Two, Chapter 8: The Mystery of Tumblebrook Village

Book Two, Chapter 8: The Mystery of Tumblebrook Village

“Grandmother!”

The girl’s name was Tiarraluna Galbradia. Her not quite petite figure was clad in a long, white, mage’s robe piped with purple and cyan, and she carried a tall, white shepherd’s crook staff with a large, oval sapphire in the crook’s center.

She was Several months past her fifteenth birthday, and stood three inches over five feet, with long silver hair bisected by a wide strip of orchid, and trailing down her back in a wide, triple braid. Her sloe eyes were a vivid violet, and her features were delicate.

She was a rank ten advanced novice mage, and still most of half a lenn shy of her grandmother’s cottage, having been summoned from her normal haunts in Heatherton some few days earlier. But she knew that the old woman would hear her. After all, the great Rosaluna Galbradia didn’t exactly hear with her ears.

Ah, Button! The almost instantaneous reply came soundlessly into her head. Are you nearly here?

“Nearly, Grandmother,” she said. “I shall be there shortly. And how are you doing? Is the pain—”

I shall abide, Button, her grandmother hurried. And how was your journey? She asked. Uneventful, I pray?

Tiarraluna could see the cottage now, and her grandmother, the greatest enchantress on the continent, hobbling out to meet her. “Mostly,” she told the old woman. “Although I did happen across one perplexing sight.”

She could see her grandmother stop and straighten, and the sending, when it came, felt sharper. Perplexing?

Tiarraluna smiled. Grandmother was always concerned at anything remotely out of place. As though she were the guardian of order for all the world. “Indeed, Grandmother,” she answered. “I noticed while passing one of the side roads that its wards had been freshened recently. Very recently, and with a spell that felt a bit odd. Itchy, if you catch my meaning. Not quite right.

“And there were signs of travel as well.”

The old woman frowned, now near enough that Tiarraluna could see the expression quite clearly. She might have been a prediction of what Tiarraluna would look like did she live another seventy years, although she was much older. Frail and slightly stooped, but still bearing the traces of her youthful beauty.

Did you happen to notice a sign beside this road?

“I did,” Tiarraluna moved in close to the old woman and embraced her warmly. “Oh, I have missed you so much, Grandmother!” she emphasized the statement with an extra squeeze.

The sign, Button? The old woman pressed, returning her granddaughter’s embrace.

“Hmm?” the girl drew her head back. “Oh! Tumblebrook. It said, ‘Tumblebrook: 6 lenn’.

“Grandmother? I thought the crown had ordered all of those outland villages abandoned in the last great sweep?”

They did, the old woman’s eyes were narrow. I certainly thought they’d all been emptied out. Of course, inasmuch as that idiot had just finished scrubbing the land clear of anyone with an ounce of fight or authority, who might there have been left to enforce such orders? In any case, I’ll make some inquiries.

Tiarraluna nodded, her attention already diverted. She was staring at the back of a shirtless man who was busily whacking away at an old oak tree with a long stick. “Ooh. Is that him, Grandmother? The new hero?”

* * *

“Are you absolutely sure?” Chi repeated.

“Yes!” Samus insisted.

“They may be angry,” Chi warned. “They may make you stop.”

Sam’s expression faltered, but she firmed her shoulders and set herself. “I wanna tell them,” she reiterated.

“Alright,” Chi allowed. "But just remember, you asked for it. You got your stuff?”

“Got it,” Sam patted the bag Mrs. Norley had made her out of the skin of a stalker cat that Chi had killed. “Alla my stuff’s right here.”

Chi heaved a great breath, possibly more frightened than the little girl about what was to come. “Very well, then. Off we go.”

They flew, which Sam still went wild over, giggling and screeching like a loon. Chi never bothered with her human guise anymore, nor did the villagers seem to care.

The village guard waved as they passed overhead, and Sam waved back. Chi had both hands full of wriggling little girl, so had to do without.

Sam’s parents met them at the door, having heard their daughter’s laughter well in advance of her arrival. They frowned at the lateness of the hour, but not overmuch. It wasn’t altogether that late, and they understood how much Samus loved being with her hero. Truthfully, they wouldn’t have been overly concerned had she spent the night.

The both of them stopped short at the serious expression on Chi’s face.

“What is it?” Lendor, Sam’s father, demanded. “Has something happened? Sam?”

Sam was looking up at her parents, her face very serious, and still flushed from her flight. “Papa? Mama?” she said in a strangled and very serious sort of voice. “I’m a mage!”

“Oh, my!” her mother let her breath out in a heavy sigh of relief, putting both hands to her cheeks. “Of course you are, dear,” she nodded, reaching out to pat her daughter on her head.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“No!” Sam batted her mother’s hand away. “It’s not pretend! I’m a really for real mage! Ask Chi.”

Her mother looked up at Chi, confused. “Chi?”

“I’m afraid it’s true, Cleary,” Chi admitted. “An apprentice, at least.”

“A mage?” the girl’s father repeated low voiced. “How does that happen?”

“I’ve... uhm... been teaching her,” Chi confessed. “For awhile, now.”

“Then... then it wasn’t all make believe?” Cleary Oaks muttered. “She wasn’t just pretending?”

Chi looked down at the girl, who looked frightened but resolute. “A little of each, if I’m honest,” she said. “Uhm, can we go inside? I think this is something we need to discuss inside.”

“Oh,” Lendor stood back and aside. “Of course.”

Cleary brought cups to the table as the others sat down, along with a couple of pitchers. Cider for the adults, apple juice for Samus. Then the four of them just sat there. Sam’s brothers and sister were already asleep in the loft, thankfully.

“Wanna see?” Sam finally broke the silence.

“Er... uhm...” her mother stuttered, her eyes seeking the devil girl at the table.

“Go ahead, Pumpkin,” her father told her.

“Which one, Chi?” Sam asked.

“Lesser Illumination, I think,” Chi suggested. “You’re nervous, and it’s easy enough you won’t make any mistakes.

“Lendor?” she addressed the girl’s father. “Would you mind blowing out the lamps? Just for a moment?”

Uncertain, he stood and moved to extinguish the lamps hanging on the walls to either side of the room. The whole place plunged into darkness.

“Alright, Lendor,” Chi warned. “Just stay put for now, we don’t want you stumbling over something in the dark and hurting yourself. Do we Sam?”

Samus took her cue and held out her wand, a much more impressively constructed implement than her original staff had been, sporting gold wire, a willow shaft, and a large fire opal at its tip. Pausing for a moment to remember, she hissed out a short incantation.

A soft ball of golden light, perhaps eight inches across grew from the opal like a soap bubble from a straw, floating up until it centered itself over the table just above head height to a standing adult. It wasn’t all that bright, and didn’t illuminate the entire room, but it did cover the table and the area immediately around it with a soft glow, allowing her father to make his way safely back to his chair without bumping into anything.

Cleary Oaks was staring vacantly into the light, obviously stunned. Her husband, of slightly sterner stuff, was staring instead at Chi, somewhat accusingly.

“Wanna do Papa, now!” Sam Announced.

Aha! Chi smiled. So that’s why she decided she had to confess tonight of all nights. “Are you sure, Sam? That one’s harder.”

“Yep! I’m Gonna help Papa.”

Lendor switched his gaze to his daughter and it softened. “What are you talking about Pumpkin?” he wondered.

“Your finger, Papa,” she pointed. “You hurted your finger this morning.”

He held up his left index finger, wrapped in a strip of dark-stained cloth. “I’m fine, Pumpkin,” he insisted. “It’ll get better soon enough.”

“No, Papa,” Sam insisted. “I’m gonna fix it right now.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” he asked seriously.

Instead of answering, Sam jumped out of her chair and came around the table. Looking to Chi for reassurance, she had her father hold his finger out to her. She carefully unwrapped the bandage, revealing a deep cut, still oozing blood. She looked again to Chi, who nodded. It was within the boundaries of the spell.

Sam took the finger in her hands, interlacing her own tiny fingers around it and pressing the heels of her palms together. Then she began a subvocal chant. This wasn’t the same spell as Mundian adventurers learned when they started out on their paths. It came from another world, and was both easier to cast, and slightly more powerful, although it used more mana.

Lendor Oaks’ eyes widened and he gasped as a pale, green glow leaked from around her little hands, and his finger began to feel warm, then hot. The light lasted for a good two minutes, and he could see the strain building on his daughter’s face, but a glance at the devil netted him a negative shake of her head.

And then it was over, and Sam looked up, her face beaming. “Look, Papa. Look at your finger!”

He did. Where there had been a slash, there remained an angry red patch. He could feel the tenderness that told him it wasn’t fully healed, but she’d closed the wound completely and duplicated a good several weeks of healing. In a couple of minutes!

Tears were squeezing from his eyes as he held his arms out for his little Samus. She leapt into them, giggling, and he hugged her to him tight. “You really are a mage, Pumpkin!” he laughed, ruffling her hair. “A really for real mage. I’m so proud of you!”

Cleary was up out of her chair and over beside the both of them, joining in the embrace and praise. “How?” she looked over to Chi. “She’s only just coming on eleven. The guild don’t even allow children to test until they’re twelve.”

Chi smiled, sniffling a bit as she struggled not to tear up herself. “Not from around here, remember?” she reminded the woman. “I recognized that she had power, and when she asked me, I told her I’d show her how to use it.”

“All that time,” Cleary Oaks accused. “You allowed us to believe she was playing.”

Chi shrugged. “I never once lied to any of you,” she pointed out. “Nor did Sam. Whenever you asked, she told you the absolute truth.”

“But I never believed she was serious!”

“And how is that our fault?” Chi wondered, grinning.

* * *

...Well,” Mohrdrand hoisted himself from his seat beside Rosaluna’s cottage, catching up her old traveling bag as he rose. “This conversation has all been very interesting, and you’ve given me a lot to think about, but I’d better be getting back. Those kids ought to be finishing up at the guild hall if they haven’t already, and I don’t want them thinking I’ve wandered off.”

He had already started on opening the portal to the wandering way when Rosaluna called to his back. Oh, Mohrdrand, she sent. What do you know of a Tumblebrook village?

He completed the incantation before turning. The portal would now remain open until he passed through, so long as he didn’t dawdle overmuch. “Tumblebrook?” he repeated. “Odd you should mention them. They refused to leave their homes when they were ordered by the king’s men, no matter the danger.

“When contact was lost something like a year-and-a-half ago, it was assumed that they’d been wiped out by wandering monsters. Then, about seven months ago, only a couple of months after our misplaced hero planted his face in the Hero’s Glade, they started trading again, as though nothing had happened. High quality goods, too. Monster components and whatnot.

And you didn’t find that odd? She demanded. And how is it I was never told there were people left behind in one of the villages?

“Of course I found it odd,” he snorted. “How could I not, given the state of things? Everyone found it odd. But when anyone asked, the Tumblebrookers only said that an outland adventurer had happened by and helped them. No amount of wheedling could get more than that out of them.

“As to how you didn’t know of them, I’m afraid I couldn’t say. It never came up in any of our conversations, and I simply assume as a rule that you already know everything.”

She gave him the evil eye, but didn’t press the matter. She’d worked hard to build that reputation, but, in truth, she didn’t, and occasionally that came back to bite her.

“Why the sudden curiosity?” he asked.

Button mentioned that the wardstones on their road had been refreshed, and I was curious. She told him distractedly.

Mohrdrand frowned. She hadn’t even tried to be mysterious. That wasn’t like her.

Rosaluna watched the portal close behind the old man, her eyes lingering on the patch of ground over which it had appeared, deep in thought. Perhaps it had fallen behind the table and behind the boxes stacked beneath?

Eventually, she pushed herself up and out of the chair and returned to the cottage to continue her hunt. For four days now, she’d been searching for that damnable journal without success. The trouble was, she hadn’t had a cause to use it in nearly three years, and the cursed thing had gotten itself lost somewhere in the clutter of her workshop.