Before they left the garden, Alice noticed one last plant that was of interest to her.
“Is that oregano?” she asked, pointing at a small shrub growing oval green leaves. She could smell the fragrance from this distance, probably because it had been literal years since she last had used it (or seen anyone use it) in a kitchen. She’d always found it funny how England had started entire wars and colonized half the world for spices… only for them to never learn to use them! Like, what the fuck people? At least now she understood why Gordon Ramsey was always angry.
“Yes dear. Want to take some?”
“Please yes. I can cook so much stuff with it. If I manage to grow a cutting my problems in life will be solved.”
She was, obviously, exaggerating. In that her life didn’t have many problems now!
The [Witch] chuckled and nodded.
“Go ahead, take some. It will regrow.”
Alice did… and as she cut away a few branches, taking some dirt and placing it in a tissue she had in a pocket (another very important thing to always have, together with toilet paper and a towel), she realized something.
“Wait, how can this grow here. Actually, how can half the plants in this garden grow up here? The climate is all wrong for them. The terrain too.”
At that, the [Witch of the Forests] quirked an eyebrow.
“Well, you did mention you knew much about plants. And you also did say you’re an [Alchemist] and that your grandma was a healer. Truth be told, not many notice. They just see the gardens and their beauty.
“But, to answer your question, it’s all thanks to my Skills. Or rather, one Skill: [All Terrain Gardens]. It doesn’t matter where I live or what plant I use, the terrain will always be perfect for said specific plant, and it also helps with the climate, up to a certain point.”
Alice gaped: “That’s one overpowered Skill! Just imagine how many applications it can have! You… you could start a business with acacia trees here in Eva!”
Alice said the first, and dumbest at that, thing that came to mind. Which made the [Witch] laugh.
“That is certainly a new proposal, yes. Maybe I’ll even consider it one day. But for now, I like it here. I’ll only ever leave this place when I die or if I outlive Beria, Lili and Commodora.”
Hearing Aria mention the blonde witch left a sour taste in Alice’s mouth: “I really don’t like Beria. She’s… too observant. And too fast to judge people. I understand she didn’t stop at the cover, but immediately accusing me of being the most evil being she’s ever met is something of a low blow.”
Aria sighed: “She’s young and talented, Beria. Already managed to pass her Level 30 capstone, and she has a quite advanced and rare Class herself. It all went to her head, as you’ve very well seen. I just hope the day will come that someone, or something, will defeat her so thoroughly that she’ll understand she’s doing it all wrong. Or one day soon she’ll stop Leveling.”
Alice chuckled. All of that was an understatement in her opinion, but who was she to judge?
“Well, let’s get you to the village. I’m sure your lover is waiting for you,” said the witch, smiling smugly as Alice began sputtering and trying to explain that no, she and Averick weren’t a thing. They were just friends.
“Oh, I know young one, but he’s rather smitten with you.”
Alice tried to laugh, and failed miserably: “He’s smitten with every girl he sees. You wouldn’t imagine how many stories of his past exploits he’s told me. Clearly it’s just a good friendship.”
The [Witch] nodded: “And you believe that a man telling you all about how great he is in bed while also abstaining from sex with other girls, who regularly comes to meet you and spend time with you, is a man who is just a ‘good friend’? Clearly, you’re blinder than mole with its eyes removed.”
Alice began spluttering again: “He - Hey! Aren’t witches like you supposed to be all enigmatic and give only clues?”
“That’s stereotypical, and it never works. Live to my age and your patience will become to thin that you’ll become as direct as a mallet to the face.”
The conversation stopped.
Alice, naturally, knew that Av was into her. She wasn’t, as Witch Aria had oh so delicately put it, blind as a mole without eyes.
But she preferred not to think about it. She was not ready for a relationship. Not by a long shot. What if she ruined everything like last time? She hadn’t become much better since then. She’d probably end up being as possessive and jealous as last time. No, better they stay as they are. Better for both of them.
“But I can see that something is stopping you from accepting it. Which is fair. A woman should never be forced into a relationship.”
Alice didn’t know what to say at that, so she went for the first thing that came to mind: “Thank you.”
“No problem, dear. I hope everything will fix itself.”
----------------------------------------
Alice didn’t have the time to observe the village.
She only saw a few wooden houses built in a circular pattern around a central plaza with the remnants of a great fire. The place looked homely, though, and that was all she needed to know.
Anyways, she wasn’t able to see the whole village because, the moment they crossed in, a woman ran at them. She was young, probably in her late thirties at worst, with dark hair and bright purple eyes. She was wearing a long dress that looked perfect for both warm and cold weather.
“Witch Aria, it is a pleasure to see you, what brings you here?”
The witch tipped her hat to the woman as she answered: “I’ve brought here the girl who saved your son, Anya. The trees tell me you’ve been preparing something for the occasion.”
And suddenly, Aria didn’t look like the friendly old woman she’d been speaking to this whole time. Now, she wore the mask of the mysterious, secular witch again.
“Thank you greatly Witch Aria,” she said, bowing, before turning to Alice.
And embracing her. Now, one would expect Alice to freeze in place from the unexpected physical contact.
She didn’t. Instead, she immediately embraced the woman back, patting her gently on the back. She wanted to say something about how italians were much more touchy-feely than most of the world, which wasn’t wrong, but even an italian would’ve frozen up at the sudden affection. This was all her.
“Thank you thank you thank you!!! You saved him from death. I won’t be able to thank you enough!”
Alice smiled and said nothing, instead enjoying the physical contact. It had been… a very long time since she’d last gotten to enjoy something as simple as a hug.
When it (sadly) ended, the woman unwound herself and smiled upwards at her.
“Come join us, we’ve prepared a feast to enjoy! You’re also invited, Witch Aria. You, and the other witches, naturally. How is Lili doing? Her mother is so curious!”
The old woman smiled kindly: “I fear we will have to decline, Miss Anya. We are currently busy. But do expect Lili to come at a later hour. She is a good student, although sometimes lazy.”
Anya nodded at the first part and chuckled slightly at the last one.
Then she bowed to the [Witch] again and took Alice by the hand, dragging her towards the central plaza, where the fire had been lit and people were already gathering.
The moment she stepped in, she was surrounded by villagers welcoming her, thanking her and asking questions about her. She wasn’t overwhelmed at all.
…
Just kidding, the world became a blur after the first ten seconds. But it didn’t matter. She was giddy with happiness and self satisfaction. This was the first time… probably ever now that she thought about it, that she’d been surrounded by so many people who wanted to thank her and speak with her and congratulate her and…
She was happy.
This felt right. These people felt right, these mountains felt right, even if they’d tried to kill her twice already, this… this entire life felt right to her. Better than anything she could’ve gotten back on Earth. Certainly, she felt better here than she’d had back then.
She smiled, and it was the most genuine smile she’d smiled in what felt like decades.
----------------------------------------
The [Mountainous Village Leader of Cheer] was a man in his sixties with graying short hair and a big salt and pepper beard. He had warm brown eyes and an even warmer smile.
She discovered it was an actual Skill of his: [Warming Smile]. Whenever he activated the Skill and smiled, a rather large cone that followed his face would become warm enough to make even a snowstorm feel cozy.
And the man liked to smile a lot.
“Welcome to our little village, Miss Alice. My name is Radis, and I’m the leader of our small community. Well, for a given meaning of small. It is truly a pleasure to meet you,” he offered her a hand to shake, which she did energetically. The man’s smile became only wider.
“The pleasure is all mine sir Radis. I wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome.”
The [Village Leader] had to laugh at that: “Well, we’re people of the mountains miss Alice. It’s only natural that we’d like to be warm.”
The pun was horrible, but it made Alice laugh nonetheless.
“Well then, if you’re so ‘mountainous’, do you have any goat milk?”
“What a silly question, of course. Want to see the animals?”
“Gods no, I hate goats and they hate me back twice as much. But I do love the milk,” she answered with a small shrug and a smile.
Radis laughed again.
They were sitting on a bench by the fire, eating from plates filled with a simple stew of meat, potatoes and carrots. There were plates piled with cheeses at each bench and someone had brought out some actual barrels of mead to drink from. No weak shit like wine here, only the good stuff that was brewed to knock you out.
When the barrels had been brought out Radis had said he was sorry they couldn’t bring out the moonshine but it still wasn’t quite ready for consumption. To which Alice had said that she wanted to end the night with her liver still existing.
Averick was sitting besides her, eating voraciously with a tankard of mead by his left foot. This was probably the most fun he’d had since the beginning of the trip.
“So, was it worth it?” she asked him with a teasing smile.
Av stopped inhaling his food and looked at her with his most serious expression, which was undermined by the presence of a piece of potato stuck to his left cheek. She went to gently clean it off with a tissue, and he allowed her to do this before answering: “If every climb with you ends in a feast like this I’ll gladly do this every day of my life.”
She smiled: “Thank you Av, for coming with me, and for always bearing with my moods. You’re a good guy.”
Averick blushed a little, and she laughed.
Then they were swept back into the ‘party’ and they couldn’t talk more about their… situation.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Not long afterwards, Lili joined them all, with a plate of food of her own and a glass of what Alice dearly hoped was juice. She spent most of her time with the kids, playing around and dancing, but there was an air of… distance to her. As if she were older than them while also being their age.
Probably the effect of being taught by [Witches] all the time.
Still, they had fun, and Alice wouldn’t be staying here long anyways. Tomorrow she and Av would depart to get back in time to Gunsee for the end of the Silken Week. Maybe she’d even go to visit Isse and Siidi in their dreams. That thought put a smile on her face.
Onwards the evening went, until it turned into night. The soup was finished and the sweets were brought out: from simple buttered pastries filled with mountain berries to something very similar to a cheesecake made from goat milk with pear frosting over it. For a moment Alice wondered how the hell they’d managed to get pears up here, until she remembered the [Witch]’s garden.
The food was some of the best she’d had since arriving in this world. Sure, she was good in a kitchen, as any good italian is, but she also didn’t know that many plates, and was now regretting the many times she’d just ordered take-away. She promised herself to ask the cooks for the recipes.
And then someone took out an old, slightly battered, violin, and began playing.
The song was joyful and merry, perfect for dancing. Which is exactly what Alice did, taking a very drunk Averick with her.
The song spoke to her like many of the things and people in this village did: it spoke of a mountaineer scaling the highest peak of the Tiurna Mountains, reaching higher than the clouds, in an attempt to commingle with the gods themselves.
With a devil on his shoulder and a pickaxe in hand, he began climbing, encountering dying legends and living things that should be forgotten at all costs. He saw a tomb that scared even the devil, who forced him to steer clear. He saw a man walking among the clouds and had a drink with him, and afterwards he saw an old woman with a pickaxe not unlike his own smoking a pipe, giving him tips on where to go.
He reached higher and touched a star, and then higher still, until the gods appeared to give him his due.
It was a story in a song. No words were spoken, but she could still see it, feel the pride of the musician and the courage of the [Mountaineer] who walked the void of the stars, climbing the darkness when the rock ended and he still hadn’t achieved his goal.
Alice didn’t know if the story was real, but it didn’t matter: any story, even one of pure fantasy, had a similar match in reality. That was what grandma always told her.
So she danced, and every few minutes changed partner. There was no rhyme or reason to the steps, just a wild abandon and a desire to be happy, to smile and not think. Life could be hard, so there was no reason to bring its harshness even in this liberating moment.
Alice couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed as hard as she had today.
Then the people began to sing. Everyone reached the musician and attempted, with better or worse results, to sing a song they knew. Some of them were lauded and applauded, others were laughed at and clapped on the shoulder as they were told to train a bit before attempting this again.
Everyone did it.
Even Alice.
Well, she was sort of forced.
“Come on, miss Alice. It’s just some innocent fun,” said Radis as he pushed her towards the musician.
Now, normally she’d never even think about doing something like this, but she was happy and definitely drunk if the way the world swum around her was any indication, so, she thought, why not?
Problem, she didn’t know many song - no, wait, she did know one. A song that had always called to her back home. A song her grandma always sang whenever the forest became too silent and she didn’t let Alice choose a song of her own.
A song that spoke to all italians, that spoke to their very souls. A song older than the republic itself.
She stood beside the musician, coughed in the palm of her to clear her voice.
And sang.
Una mattina! Mi sono alzato!
Oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao!
Una mattina, mi sono alzato!
E ho trovato l’invasor!
Bella Ciao! If you asked someone, anyone, what was the most italian song they knew, they’d mention Italiano Vero or Bella Ciao. The partisan’s song. The rebel’s song. Her grandma’s song. The song her grandpa and his friends had probably sang as they were being led to their deaths, or at least she liked to imagine it that way.
O partigiano, portami via!
Oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao!
O partigiano, portami via,
Che mi sento di morire!
“Never forget Alice, that the world you live in today was built upon our blood. Never forget your roots, who you were, who were those that came before you. Always be proud of your country, even when it betrays you. Because people died for it. So, in memory of that blood, always be proud. They will never manage to take this from you. Never.”
E se io muoio da partigiano,
Oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao!
E se io muoio da partigiano,
Tu mi devi seppellir!
“Were we the good guys? Of course not Alice. There is no good in war, everyone is bad. Us partisans, we killed just like the fascists did. We caused the deaths of hundreds, thousands. The only thing that made us different from them was that we did it for something each and every human should always aspire to: freedom.”
Mi seppellirai lassù in montagna,
Oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao!
Mi seppellirai lassù in montagna,
Sotto l’ombra di un bel fiore!
The people had stopped dancing, just listening to the song. They didn’t understand the words, but the words resounded deep in their souls. They spoke of freedom, and of the price one was willing to pay for it. Any price, anything was fair in the name of freedom.
They had paid that price, many times. They had abandoned their countries, disappeared to live among these peaks, the trees and animals their only companions, hunted by monsters as old as the world, sometimes barely managing to survive.
They had hunted arachne and won, they had destroyed armies on these trails, bled them dry first of supplies and then of blood.
All in their desire to be free, to be anything they wanted. Had it been worth it? What a stupid question: obviously yes!
E la gente che passerà,
Oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao!
E la gente che passerà,
Dirà “Oh che bel fior!”
“E questo è il fiore del partigiano”,
Oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao!
“Questo è il fiore del partigiano, morto per la libertà!”
“When I die, bury me under an edelweiss Alice. Promise me this. That I may stay with him, always.”
She had kept her promise.
The song ended. The [Violinist of Remembrance], Level 24, stopped and cried, for he, like the girl, like every single person in the village, had seen what the song meant to her, what it had meant to her people.
The song was hers, and now she had gifted it to them, that they may sing it in their darkest hours and remember why they had done everything they had done.
“It was beautiful!” was all someone managed to shout in the back of the crowd.
Then someone else took her place, a new song was played and sung, and everything went back to what it had been before.
Or did it?
----------------------------------------
Witch Beria sat in a dark room illuminated only by a candle. The candle was made from beeswax with Darktear petals melted inside.
Darktears were rare plants that grew only very high up in the Tiurna Mountains. The name came from the teardrop form of their petals and their black-as-night color. Now, from the name one would expect them to be poisonous in some kind of way, but they were completely harmless. They grew only in places where the light didn’t reach, hence the dark color to mimetize with their surroundings, and their only known use to those not of these mountains was as an expensive decoration.
But Beria was a [Witch] and she knew another great use for them: hex materials. Perfect, in particular, for causing nightmares. It was, obviously, only a minor hex, which would cause only a one night lucid nightmare.
From her experience (yes, she’d tested the hex on herself), the nightmare always started with a vision of the Tiurna Mountains in the distance, a single candle right at the tip the only form of light in the whole nightmare. The only hope of safety. From there on, it always changed, but the beginning was always that.
She lit the candle and burned a small amount of Alice’s hair in it. It was all she had, but it was really all she needed to give her a lesson. She would think twice from here on before trying to confront a witch!
She whispered the words and watched as the flame of the candle slowly became black.
…
Only to then burn bright green for a moment, before she it returned to its normal color.
Did - Did she just… dispel it?
----------------------------------------
Alice and Av were shown to their rooms for the night and they settled down, ready for a good night’s sleep in a bed instead of a tent and bedroll. This was the life!
As Alice fell asleep, she didn’t notice how the little bracelet of oregano she’d crafted while walking to the village with Aria slowly wilted into a dark mass that she dispersed during the night while moving around.
But she did notice when she woke up the next morning. And smiled.
“Beria, Beria, Beria. You’re way too predictable.”
And when, back in the witches’ house, Beria told what had happened to a now awake Aria, the old woman remembered the oregano and began laughing so hard she had to sit down.
When she told Beria that the plant could be used, traditionally, to protect against minor curses and hexes, the young witch became red with anger, while Commodora joined Aria in her laughing fit.
----------------------------------------
Two days later Alice and Averick were back in Gunsee, exactly on the seventh day of the Silken Week.
They decided to go to the Drunken Pig, the bar that offered free alcohol for the duration of the Week. It was cheap stuff, naturally, but it was still alcohol, and she had every intention of getting to work tomorrow and show off to Herman.
Then the patrons began asking them where they’d disappeared for the whole week.
Av opened his mouth to answer.
But Alice stopped him with a finger on his mouth.
Instead, smiling, she turned towards the small crowd and asked: “Have you ever heard the stories of the Skinwalkers?”
----------------------------------------
The Skinwalkers in the Tiurna Mountains felt it when it happened: their chains were broken.
They howled and laughed and whooped in joy as they managed, for the first time in centuries, to leave the mountains. But nobody was happier than the one who had chosen to name himself Rayspin.
She kept her word, he thought. She’s the first one since Anansi and the Traveler who’s kept her word with us.
He looked at his companions, his people. They had laughed, sadly, when he’d told them what happened. Now, they smiled.
“Remember our side of the deal, boys and girls!” he shouted.
They shouted back in glee.
And began running.
----------------------------------------
Somewhere, up in the skies, an [Old Man By the Stars] saw all of this happen.
He rummaged over the information he’d gathered about this girl, Alice. Information about all that she’d done since her last Level Up, her choices and decisions. And her desires.
He nodded, and whispered: “[Suggest Class: …]”
The System was good at its job, but it didn’t always understand desires, since it had none. Sometimes it needed a push in the right direction. And he was sure this was one of those times.
----------------------------------------
Alice used her Skill, [Fall Asleep], and immediately darkness greeted her.
Together with… many words.
[Mountaineer Class Obtained!]
[Mountaineer Level 8!]
[Skill - Basic Climbing Obtained!]
[Skill - Fill the Silence Obtained!]
[Skill - Enhanced Breathing Obtained!]
[Skill - Fire of Hope Obtained!]
[Witch Class Obtained!]
[Witch Level 5!]
[Skill - Enforce Tradition Obtained!]
[Skill - A Bottle for Palaver Obtained!]
[Skill - Disquieting Presence Obtained!]
[Conditions Met: Apprentice Alchemist -> Occult Herbalist]
[Gardener Class Consolidated!]
[Mountaineer Class Consolidated!]
[Witch Class Consolidated!]
[Occult Herbalist Level 24!]
[Conditions Met: Basic Climbing -> Expert Climber]
[Skill - Expert Climber Obtained!]
[Skill - Occultism: Perfect Recall Obtained!]
[Skill - Advanced Talisman Crafting Obtained!]
[Conditions Met: Stabilize Reaction -> Talisman: Enhance Power]
[Skill - Talisman: Enhance Power Obtained!]
[Skill - Show Them The Past Obtained!]
[Conditions Met: Garden Soil: Increased Nutrients -> Garden: Increased Hume]
[Skill - Garden: Increased Hume Obtained!]
It stopped. Then, as if with uncertainty, something else was added.
[Skill - Natural Allies: Skinwalkers Obtained!]
Then Alice woke up in the Dream.