“A piece of wood is rather plain, boring and ordinary, but can become so much more. All it requires is a little extraordinary help. You are that extraordinary help.”
Those were the words that Mei’s father had always told her, and ironically, they were the same words that got her stuck in the very cell she now sat in as she meticulously carved away at a small piece of wood with her knife, her foolish plan for escape relying entirely on her ability to craft tiny wooden models. But it would work. Just so long as she kept with her time schedule which had a mere two hours left to go. Two hours until the thing would come to kill her.
Tongue sticking out in anticipation, she stroked the blunt blade across the final segment of her model, her eyes keenly watching as a thin strip of wood curled before fluttering down to the floor, piling up around her bare feet with the myriad of other wooden flakes and strips. She smiled, picking up the model and closely inspecting it as though it were a magnificent treasure or artefact. To her, it was something far more valuable.
Shaped like a tiny dragon with a slender tail and two large, tattered wings, the model had all the details Mei could have hoped for. Tiny, pointed scales, gnarly spikes, a sly face. Everything was there, and she couldn’t have been more proud of herself. She wished her father could have seen it. He would have been happy to know that his knowledge and skills had not gone to waste. They had instead been passed down to Mei who, with all her time spent in a dungeon cell, had managed to skilfully craft one of her father’s favourite things. Dragons.
“Just as you wanted, father,” she whispered as she placed the model of the dragon down upon the bench next to three other models.
One was that depicting a rather large, gruesome rat which had a pair of malicious eyes and two massive buckteeth sticking out from its gaping mouth. Then, to the right of the rat, she had carved out a rounded clock, the various numbers of each hour etched smoothly into its wooden surface, a set of flimsy hands constructed of sticks pointing towards midday. Finally, to the left of the rat, there was a wooden sword sticking out from a rocky crevice, the hilt embedded with precious gems which Mei had created by polishing a couple of loose stones she’d managed to pull free from the cracks in her cell wall.
It truly was a strange collection which she’d amassed inside her cell over the previous four months, but it was her most prized collection of all; one which was going to help her escape. The hard part was over. All that was left was the easy, yet most crucial part.
She flourished the craft knife in her hand, slamming it down into the wooden bench beside her. It was a rather dull looking knife, completely blunt on the one side with rusted serrations running down the other. But it was far more than it made out to be, once belonging to her father who had passed it down to her with all his knowledge and secrets of a dying practice, a dying art.
Mei ran her fingers across the wooden bench, circling around the knife as she reviewed the map of the dungeon which she’d etched into the splintered surface. She hadn’t created the map on her own, of course. Oh no, her memory wasn’t that good. She could barely remember which way the guards had dragged her in through the labyrinth for her eyes had been blinded by a rugged sack placed over her head at the time. But her collection of wooden models had been larger. Much larger. Unfortunately, many had been sacrificed to help her create this map. Now that it was done, however, she planned to bring justice to her sacrificed artworks. So with that, she gave one long stare at the craft knife before slandering over to the barred gate which separated her from the dark passageway that lead to her freedom, the mossy stonewalls outside dotted with rusted sconces holding wilting torches of burning flames that flickered sadly in the dark.
“Oi! Dungeon Pig!” she yelled out, voice echoing off the walls. “What be the time?”
It wasn’t long before the guard grumbled back at her, and she couldn’t blame his foul mood. He had a rotten job guarding all these cells down in the dark all alone, and apparently, from what she’d heard in his many dreamy episodes, he truly was alone. A poor, drunk soul without a family. Something Mei could relate to.
“What do you want, you filthy Witch?”
“Firstly, I ain’t no Witch. Secondly, I asked what be the time?”
A silhouette suddenly emerged from the right, walking into the torchlight to reveal the bearded face of a gruff, clearly unamused and tired soldier who bore an ugly set of smudged tattoos that wound down his left arm. Mei simply called him Pig, because he was the one guard who’d been stuck in this mud hole with her from the beginning, and unfortunately for him, he had been unlucky enough to endure her many annoying retorts and questions which she’d so frequently asked from within the confinements of her cell. It was a miracle he’d managed to keep his composure all this time. Not many could put up with Mei. At least not without killing her at some point.
“And if you’re not a Witch, then what are you?”
“For the thousandth time, ya big brainless lug, I’m a Woodcrafter.”
“A Woodworker?”
“No, a Woodcrafter. There be a difference.”
Pig snorted, sleepily leaning against his spear, a mildly drunk expression on his face as his breath reeked of stale alcohol from the night before. “So you do woodwork mixed with witchcraft. Got it.”
“No. Woodcraft be its own thing. It ain’t got anything to do with witchcraft.” She clasped at the bars, fingers wrapping around the cold iron as she leaned forward. “Maybe if I show you, I’ll be able to convince you otherwise.”
“Please,” Pig said with a yawn. “Amuse me.”
Mei released her grip on the bars and walked back over to the bench where she plucked the knife free and picked up the wooden model of the rat. She glanced at Pig, heart palpitating as she felt an empty pit form at the bottom of her stomach which began to churn, a distant gurgle murmuring from within. She ignored it, instead turning to look at the knife, eyeing the slender hilt and jagged serrations with guilt.
“Do not carve away at the past,” were her father’s words. “For it cannot be healed, only dwelt upon.”
“Sorry, father,” she whispered. “I know this be not what it was meant for.”
Then, with a swift movement, she raised the serrated edge to the palm of her hand and drew it across, pressing hard into her skin. She winced in pain, cringing as crimson blood ran down her arm, gaining a concerned look from Pig who now stood more rigid outside the cell bars.
“Blood from the creator’s hand, bring to life that which is mine to command.”
As Mei whispered those words, she squeezed her palm, letting her blood drip down onto the wooden rat. Then, with an obnoxious hiss and piercing screech, the wood began to peel. It peeled away, wooden surface cracking like a brittle eggshell as steam began to coalesce in the air around it, revealing what was truly inside.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she violently threw back her head, eyes tightly shut as she was jerked back into the past, her painful memories becoming a vision for her to experience once again; just one more time in order for her incantation to be complete.
***
“There, there,” came a familiar voice. “It’s alright, my little one. It’s just a rat, that’s all. Rats are our friends.”
Mei slowly opened her eyes, finding herself sitting on a plush white bed, her small frail body held gently in the arms of a man she so dearly missed.
“But they be big, hairy and scary, daddy,” she spoke in a squeaky voice.
“Come now,” her father said. “They’re not all that bad. They just look rather nasty.”
He got up, leaving the bedside and strolling across the creaky wooden floor in Mei’s room. The place was the same as she last remembered. A cosy little nook in the upstairs corner of her father’s cabin which she had all to herself, filled with a bed and desk upon which many little wooden models sat. It had been a place of comfort for them. A place where they could live out their lives like normal people, away from civilisation and out in the woods. A place where nobody would have to know that they were Woodcrafters.
“Come here,” her father beckoned. “I’ll show you.”
Mei hesitated as she looked up at her father before finally leaving the bed, her tiny bare feet touching the floor as she waddled over to where he stood. She wanted to cry out in pain and hug him, holding him close one last time, but this was just a memory, a vision of the past. All she could do was watch.
“Look.”
She knelt down with her father and followed his gaze beneath the bed. There, scurrying about in the corner was a large, grizzly looking rat who simply stared back at them. Mei shivered. The creature’s gaze was unsettling, its eyes glowing an eerie amber as it gave her a look of fiery hatred.
“I don’t think it likes me,” Mei said, huddling close to her father.
Her father simply chuckled. “That’s only because it’s scared of you.”
“Me? Why would it be scared of me?”
“Oh, many reasons. But perhaps the most important thing you missed is that all you need to do is extend a friendly hand.”
Mei watched as her father reached into one of the many leather pouches he had hanging from his belt, ruffling his hand about before finally producing a handful of breadcrumbs. Without any fear of hesitation, he stretched his hand out towards the rat. At first, the creature hesitated, it’s nose quivering and whiskers tinging at the sight of the outstretched hand. Then, as if something inside the rate changed, its fur became sleeker, it’s face more mousy-like, and its eyes seemed to sink, almost revealing a spark of understanding on its face. From there, it scampered into her father’s hand and began nibbling at the crumbs.
“Rats are quite harmless,” he said, stroking the creature as he brought it into the light. “They’re a lot like us, Mei. People don’t understand them and see them as horrid pests, a mere threat to society. But on the inside, they’re gentle souls who can help us.”
“H-help us?”
Her father nodded. “All you have to do is understand them.”
***
Suddenly her head jerked forward, and the vision faded, the light of the cosy cabin consumed by the darkened hallways as she returned to reality once again. She sucked in a deep breath, straining her eyes to help focus her vision as she turned to face Pig who was slowly backing away from the barred cell.
“Bloody Witchcraft!” Pig cursed. “If you aren’t a Witch, then I don’t know what you are.”
Mei looked down at her hands. There, contently sitting in her palms, was a large furry rat. A real, living rat. Just as her incantation had intended. This was the secret of Woodcraft and was exactly why she was feared, and, more importantly, why she was in this cell.
“Like I said, I be a Woodcrafter,” Mei said with a smile on her face.
Then, she knelt down to the floor, placing her hands against the cold stone as she let the rat free to run rampant and do her bidding. Within the second, the rat was off and away, scampering along the cracked stone and clambering between the cell bars, squeaking as it made its way over to Pig.
The startled guard’s eyes suddenly snapped open as though he had finally just awoken from his slumber. And like a clumsy giant bear, he hopped about on his one foot, slamming the butt of his spear to the ground, barely missing the rat who had found its way over to his foot. It wasn’t long before he let loose a high-pitched squeal as the rat latched onto the laces of his leather boot and began crawling up his leg, precariously grabbing at his undergarments.
“Oh hush, will you,” Mei said, stifling a snicker. “You be scarin’ him.”
The scene before her was rather amusing. She’d never imagined a gruff looking guard, such as Pig, would be able to give off such a girly scream as he did. It truly was quite remarkable, and even if her plan failed, she’d almost consider this a cheery way to die.
“Why you little…” Pig never finished his sentence, for about a second later, a howl escaped his lips, echoing off the dungeon walls as he clutched at his leg, a trickle of blood dripping down his left calf.
Suddenly, the rat came speeding down from his leg, feet hitting the sludge-covered floor outside as it ran back towards Mei, hopping between the bars and crawling into her cell, whiskers tinging happily. Then, Pig came slamming into the bars, pressing his face against the cold iron as he glared at Mei.
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“If I could kill you now, I would,” he spat. “But seeing as you will be dead within the hour, I shall wait. And when it comes, I will so enjoy your death. Perhaps maybe then I’d be able to get out of this stinking mud hole!”
“Oh, calm yourself, Pig. You be far from awake to see them let that thing run rampant on me.”
Pig growled. “Shut it. I will personally see to some sleep if it means seeing your end.”
With that, he kicked at the cell bars before limping off back down to the corridor and out of sight, leaving Mei to attend to her rat, giving it a well-deserved scratch behind the ears.
“Good boy,” she whispered. “Did you get a good chunk?”
The rat squealed with delight, dropping a small, bloodied chunk of flesh in her hands.
“Poor Pig,” she said, holding up the piece of flesh between her fingers and inspecting it. “That be one nasty bite.”
She quickly brought herself to her feet and walked over to the bench, Pig’s flesh in her hand. Apparently only an hour remained for her to make her daring escape. This was not a lot of time, and she needed to act fast if she was to survive.
“Time is of the essence,” her father had said. “Patience is our artwork. But sometimes, new challenges are placed before us and we need to adapt to overcome them. Time does not wait for us.”
Mei tore off a shred of her dirtied garment, hastily wrapping it around her hand from where she’d drawn blood, biting her lower lip as she pressed it against her palm, the pain searing up her arm. Of course, she had no time to dwell on her own pain. Not if she wanted to feel more pain.
Her eyes darted over to her most recent model, the one of the little dragon, and she picked it up in shaky hands. Then, sucking in a deep breath, she pressed the tiny piece of flesh against the dragon’s head and began to whisper.
“With the flesh of my enemy, thou shall help free me.”
***
“Why so many dragons, daddy?”
Mei looked over the large workbench in the downstairs hall of her father’s cabin. Light streamed in through the crystalline windows, casting dancing shadows across the table as the leaves of the trees outside wavered in the wind, flitting out in front of the golden rays of sunlight. The workbench itself was covered in hundreds of tiny models which her father had crafted. All of them were small little lizards with various different shaped wings and slender tails. Some had spikes, others did not. Some were fat and bloated, others were thin and twig-like. They all stood about on the table, unmoving as they sat in various different poses, some more intimidating than others.
“Well, why not?” her father asked as he gently placed a newer model on the table. “They help scare off any unwanted visitors, you know.”
“They do?”
“Oh yes. Think of them as our little guardians. They watch over us and keep us safe.”
“But dragons ain’t real, are they, daddy?”
“They can be as real as you want them to be,” her father said with a soft smile on his face. “Come, I’ll even show you how to carve one out of wood.”
***
Mei staggered about, breathing heavily as she shook her head. She hated to see his face. It only reminded her of what she’d done and how she’d never see him again. Her father was long gone now, and like a distant memory, he was slowly fading from her mind, his face becoming a blur. But still he remained, even as a blurred image, in the back of her mind. Haunting her forever.
A small hiss in her palms alerted her back to her work.
As the curdling steam settled and the final flakes of wood began to burn and fall to the ground in a pile of ash, a creature only of one’s imagination revealed itself in her hands. It was like something from a children’s dream. A dream of a perfect world. For there, in her callous palms, the sleek, scaly form of a black dragon writhed about, stretching its wings outwards and extending its talons.
Both Mei and the rat eyed the dragon with awe, admiring her creation which she set down next to the rat. The dragon was smaller than the rat, covered in inky black scales which sheened beneath the torchlight rather than grizzly fur, a sly expression on its pointed face to meet the malice of the rat. Mei thought they were both adorable. A perfect duo to help her escape.
“Ash,” she said, pointing to the dragon. “Soot.” She pointed at the rat. “That be what I will call ya.”
The two creatures didn’t detest. Soot simply twitched his nose and Ash gave a cheery huff, a small ring of smoke escaping from his clenched jaw.
“Now, you be knowin’ what to do, right?” She looked at Ash. “I be needin’ ya to help set me free.”
The little dragon gave a tiny nod before extending his wings and leaping into the air, taking flight with a wisp of smoke trailing from behind as he disappeared down the corridor, melting into the eerie shadows cast along the mossy walls.
“Now,” she said, turning her attention to Soot. “You and I be havin’ somethin’ else to do in the meanwhile.”
Soot cocked his head to the side in question.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. There be a good few things which I prepared.”
She gestured over to the map etched onto the wooden bench and sat down next to it, Soot decidedly taking up a position on her lap.
“I be needin’ tears,” she said. “But they be havin’ to be truthful. No fakin’.”
Soot twitched his nose, drooping his head down in a sad motion as though he understood her and had known her all her life. He knew that there was only one thing that could make her cry. One memory.
“I know.” Mei sighed. “But it be just this once.”
Soot gave a solemn squeak.
“I be sorry, little buddy, I be needin’ just one tiny nick…”
Once again, the rat didn’t protest and simply held his head high and proud as Mei picked up the carving knife, flourishing it in her hand before gently nicking a cut into the rat’s thigh. Soot’s whiskers cringed, shaking a small bit, but he did not make a sound otherwise. He was rather calm with all of this, perhaps fully understanding what was at stake.
With a tiny drop of blood at the tip of the knife, Mei brought it over and let it fall onto the model of the sword in the rock. It splattered a tiny splash of crimson over the sword’s hilt, and Mei took in a deep, shaky breath as she began to mutter the words which would let her relive her worst memory yet.
“Blood from innocent skin, craft thy weapon from my sin.”
***
“I can’t do it,” Mei rasped, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to…”
“I know this is hard,” her father said as he visibly bit back tears. “But if not you, then they will. And they’ll kill you too.”
The shouts in the forest grew louder and louder, the musty smell of flaming smoke drawing nearer. They were coming.
“But I just can’t…” Mei whimpered, tiny hands on the hilt of the sword as she buried her head into her father’s chest.
“Hey,” her father said, clasping her cheeks between his callous hands as he wiped away her tears. “I won’t be gone. I will always be with you. You remember those dragons?”
Mei sniffed, nodding her head.
“Remember how I told you they would look out for us? Well, that is where I will be. Forever, in the heart of the dragons, in the heart of my creations, will I be with you.”
“But…but why me?”
“Because they will see you as a hero. They don’t like people like us, Mei. We are strange to them, which is why you must keep your talents secret. They are here for me, but they don’t know who you are.”
A tear dropped from her chin, landing atop her hands which rested on the hilt of a weapon she truly despised. A weapon of sin.
“Mei,” her father said, voice shaky as he placed his hands atop hers. “You are the bravest, strongest girl I know. Just like your mother who loved you so…so much. And just like her, I will love you and be with your forever. So forgive me. Forgive yourself. And forgive your enemy.”
Mei looked up at her father, ignoring the thud coming from the front door downstairs as shouting and angry footsteps came crashing in. She saw shimmering tears roll down his cheeks and wet his beard, his hands shaky as he guided the sword to his chest, Mei’s hands still loosely clasping the hilt.
“Now…” he said. “Go!”
***
Mei choked on her breath as it caught in her throat, reaching out and grabbing at the bench as she held her eyelids tightly shut. She didn’t need to know what happened next. She already knew.
“I…I be sorry…father.”
She felt a burning metal against her head. Not literally, but mentally. In front of her, without looking, she knew there to be a terrifying sword. The one that made her hate herself, yet the one she now needed to help her escape.
“Now…go!”
Opening her eyes slowly, she found Soot rubbing up against her head, poking his nose between her messy curls of hair. He squeaked, swatting his tail over the map on the bench, indicating that she should go. Just as her father had said.
Mei stifled a sniff, letting her tears to run loose, crying all over the map.
“Tears from the creator’s eyes, make my vision knowing and wise.”
With her fists and jaw clenched, she waited for another memory to hit her, but a few seconds passed and nothing came. She remained kneeling before the bench, breathing heavily as she took a moment to herself. It wasn’t long before she realised that the incantation had worked. The only strange part was the fact that no vision had come with it.
“W-what happened?” she questioned, staring at the map before her. It was rolled up in a perfect scroll, no longer etched into the bench. Now it was a proper map of the entire dungeon, a red line running along the corridors to show her the way out. Soot spun around, squeaking happily. Perhaps her own creations had decided that she’d suffered enough already. Maybe, just maybe, they could no longer suck those memories dry from her.
A whispering fluttering of wings suddenly brought Mei’s attention to the cell bars as Ash flitted back inside, a large set of dozens of keys dangling around a single loop clasped in his claws, all clattering against one another.
“You got them!” she exclaimed, wiping away at her tears and putting on her serious face again. She swiped the hoop from the little dragon’s claws and began testing all the different keys in the rusted keyhole of her cell. Time was running out, and she could tell by Ash’s panicked loops which he flew in the air. “I know, I know. They be on their way any minute now.”
Silently fumbling with the keys, poking key after key into the hole, Mei felt the pit reform in her stomach as the atmosphere shifted. Something dark and eerie approached. Someone, perhaps.
“Come on, come on,” she whispered, a light tapping of footsteps sounding in the distance. Her time was up. It was now or never. Do or die.
Suddenly, with a squeal of delight, Mei found the key suiting for the hole as it slotted in perfectly, turning ruggedly against the built-up rust and eventually unlocking the gate. She quickly picked up the map and placed her last model in her pocket. Then, hesitantly she picked up the sword and carried it beneath her arm as she pushed the gate open with a loud, irking creak of metal scraping against rock.
She cautiously stepped out of her cell for the first time in months, smiling as she felt the slimy mud of the corridor squelch between her toes. The first taste of freedom was refreshing, if not totally terrifying as a dreaded cold sent a shiver up her spine. The thing was coming.
“Now let’s get out of here,” she said to Ash and Soot as she began to take flight down the left, following the line on her map.
A hollow crunch of heavy footsteps from something large coming down the right of the passage made Mei yelp as she began picking up the speed, bare feet slapping against the ground, sliding across the muck as she ran, map shaking in her hands. She could feel her heart palpitating with terror, beating faster and faster as she made her way past dozens of empty cells.
“Meiiii” a deep voice growled somewhere in the distance.
The thing was here.
She slid into a large open hall, coming to a large chamber with multiple corridors expanding outwards. It was almost too peaceful and quiet apart from the distant growl and crushing footsteps of whatever was chasing her. Then she realised why.
Bodies.
Hundreds of them. All in uniform, tossed about in the room, bloodied and shredded, a range of weapons lying about the ground.
“What is this?” Her eyes were wide with fright.
“B-bloody Witch…” croaked a voice.
Mei spun around, eyes coming to rest upon Pig, the guard who had been with her this whole time. He now lay amongst a few other bodies of his fellow guards, a large scratch mark etched across his chest, completely shredding his leather jerkin.
“That thing…it’s here…because of you…”
Soot tugged at her leg, beckoning her to continue down the passage, trying to outrun her pursuer. But something stopped her. She should’ve just left. She could outrun it. But then she felt the last model in her pocket, sliding her hand down to feel it. The clock. That’s what it was.
She hastily looked back up at Pig, eyes weary as she watched the dying soldier lie there, fear and hatred in his eyes, the look of demise on his face. He was a simple soldier with nothing to live for. Nothing to do. Nothing to die for.
“Forgive me. Forgive yourself. And forgive your enemy.”
Blast.
Mei knelt down beside him, feeling sorry for the one person, who although had kept her captive, had been the only person to keep her company in this godawful place.
“Meiiii” the growl drew closer, causing the chamber to shake.
Ash and Soot frantically ran circle around her, and she couldn’t blame them. She was taking a risk, but it was one worth taking.
“What…are you doing?” Pig growled.
“You be like me,” Mei said as she pulled the wooden clock out her pocket. “Nobody appreciates us. Nobody understands us. And so I forgive you.”
“What are you trying to say, Witch?”
“That you be comin’ with me.”
Pig opened his mouth to say more, but was instantly cut off as he let loose a wild scream when Mei pressed the wooden model against his open wounds which began to burn.
“Meiiiii.”
The torches suddenly extinguished as a dark shadowy creature emerged from down one of the passages.
“Blood of my enemy in fret, may we turn back time before we met.”
Suddenly, the clock leapt to life, the hands slowly ticking before they came to an abrupt halt, then they began to wind back in the opposite direction.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Takin’ us back,” Mei said with a smile. “Back to a time where people won’t hate us.”
The world spun, changing, twisting, rebuilding. The dungeon vanished, brick by brick, and lush green grass grew, replacing it as though it had never been there. And as the creature stepped into the chamber, the witch, the guard, the dragon, and the rat vanished.