Name: Leigh (Nickname: Lee)
Rumor (An outsider’s discussion):
(655/1000)
Aaron, Kai, and I had gathered for dinner as we usually did on the first Friday of the month.
“Hey Ralph, guess what I heard?” Kai asked me with a mischievous grin. He was always the one who spread gossip and knew what was being said about who.
“Did all those chickens finally carry off Mrs. Baker?” I guessed jokingly.
“I wish that was all,” He replied. “Rumor has it that a whole town was destroyed just yesterday, no one survived.” I had to make sure he wasn’t joking, but his expression had turned serious.
“How so?” Aaron queried.
“They say it was torn apart by beasts! Giant, monstrous beasts that wielded fire and-“ I had to cut Kai off.
“Don’t tell me you believe that.”
He laughed. “Naw, I don’t think it’s the whole truth, but the people who lived there disappeared and the town is in ruins.”
“Bears?” Suggested Aaron.
“Of course not.” I replied. “Bears don’t attack villages like that.”
“Yeah,” commented Kai. “And even if they did, there would be dead folks lying around. But like I said, everyone just disappeared.” He accented this by waving his hands theatrically in the air.
I laughed. “Haven’t heard a rumor this interesting since that fire incident last June.”
“But this is even more interesting, you see, they think it’s witchcraft!” After Kai’s remark, the room went dead silent. We all knew how serious witchcraft was. Monsters in the disguise of a kalon with powers granted from the devil himself. They had a thieving and murderous nature and had to be stopped at all costs. If this rumor really was spreading, the town would be stricken with paranoia, and I guessed that people wouldn’t rest easy until the culprit was caught.
“It can’t be. There must be some other explanation.” Said Aaron, breaking the silence.
“I’m afraid not.” Replied Kai. A solemn air hung around us.
“You said there were no survivors, right? I wonder what kind of a witch would have the powers to do something like that.” I asked. I was thankful that we had already eaten because I had lost my appetite. I stood up, my chair sliding back on the wooden floor.
“I’ll believe this when I see it.”
And so we went, in the half light of dusk, carrying nothing more than torches and a rifle. The town was fairly close and we arrived on horseback in just over two hours. The sound of the horses’ breathing was all that could be heard, the town was as silent as it was desolate. We scoured the place until the moon was nearly at its peak, searching for any sign of struggle other than the ransacked buildings.
“Thieves.” Aaron had suggested, but that wouldn’t explain the claw marks or why no one was there.
The once beautiful huts and cottages were torn apart. Those with least damage still had broken windows and some signs of being attacked. Many buildings had burn marks. We passed what may once have been a village market, tapestries and goods lay tattered on the path. Kai and Aaron kept on the path, but I heard a rustling sound to my left and decided to follow it.
I hopped off my horse and readied my rifle in case it was one of the bears that were common in these woods, but I found nothing. I heard the sound behind me and I immediately aimed. The bracken at my feet was quivering ever so slightly. I knelt and swept the leaves out of the way. There sat the cover of a book. Confused, I picked it up and inspected it in the torchlight. It looked like it had been caught in a fire. Small golden symbols were still visible on the front, but I could not read them. Holding this cover, I brushed my paw over the front.
In that one, gentle motion I sensed guilt
and fear.
and fear.
Truth (See it from my eyes):
(1000/1000)
My mamma used to tell me that there were special people out there, “gifted” she called us.
As a kit she taught me that the world revolves around the concept that something only exists if you believe it, for in an ignorant man’s world, it isn’t real. “Magic,” she would tell me, “Is like that, too. And what an ignorant man does not believe will scare him.” Her smile would falter as her eyes glossed over at the gentle touch of memory.
What she told me was a truth I had known well.
My father was a good hearted man. I could barely remember him, he was erased from my story so early in my life.
Mama said he had been magical, too.
The city we had lived in was just as superstitious and afraid as everyone else. The difference is there’s less space, and more eyes. They saw him treating the wound of a hurt pigeon with witchcraft and took him away from us. They couldn’t understand.
Wouldn’t understand.
My mother and I fled to the countryside, I assumed it was for safety. She practiced her gift less and less until the point where she hid her book and told me “Leigh, my child, promise me you will never look for it.” Her beautiful golden eyes ran like honey on a warm summer’s day and I told her that I wouldn’t. Despite wanting to leave magic behind, it was a part of us.
I was still afraid of the dark, so she would send little lights flitting across my ceiling and sing a lullaby about a light witch. I always fell asleep before she could finish, but I knew the words by heart.
The exact words I sang, my body convulsing with sobs, the day they took her too.
I searched our home for anything that might have survived the damage caused by the people who tore through it. Anything to show me that she had been there, been real just hours before. All I found was part of a burnt picture that showed her smiling face. I was completely still, as though it would break if I so much as breathed on it.
I don’t know how long I sat there, among the remnants of what was once my home.
I don’t know whether I laughed or cried.
And I don’t know how I saw the displaced floorboards when the invaders did not.
I approached the crack in the floor that lay where a rug had once been. I gently moved the rubble from it and lifted the panel. A bit of dust and some embers came from the space below.
The book.
I picked it up, feeling the leather of the cover, I ran my paw along the symbols etched around the side as I did so long ago. It was a quaint little thing, filled with spells too complicated to be cast without it. There was a single bookmark inside, marking a summoning spell. Unlike the rest of the book, it seemed to be written in my papa’s handwriting, with a note at the bottom that said it was a failed experiment. The bookmark, written by my mother, said “Don’t use this spell.” I touched the paper and felt her emotions, the last was of guilt. I was puzzled, what would mama be guilty about?
I decided I would buy some honey to honor her, but found something else. The village people were scarred and bleeding, gathered together. I approached them, asking “What happened?” A tall kalon turned to face me, eyes full of hatred. He snarled, pointing his unforgiving finger at me, yelling. “Get them!” Those gathered there turned to face me and began the chase.
I didn’t need an explanation to know that I needed to run.
Bullets whistled by my ears as I made a mad dash for the woods, stumbling but keeping my balance, my breaths were sharp gasps. I hid behind a tree but knew that they would find me quickly. Paws shaking more heavily than before, I flipped through the book for something, anything that could help me. I landed on the bookmarked page and knew that I would have to cast it. I whispered my apology to my mama, wherever she was, and started reciting it. I heard splintering sounds as the trees nearby broke open. No sooner had I finished than I found myself looking down the barrel of a gun. The kalon’s face was unforgiving as he aimed at me, grimacing in concentration. His gaze faltered as he looked behind me. His eyes went from confused to terrified. The stare he gave me afterwards is one I will never forget.
“What have you done?”
A dark shape flew past my face, bounding towards the kalon. He tried to run, forgetting about the rifle in his hand, uttering a cry of shock. The scratches he bore were multiplied by identical copies.
This had happened before.
At least ten more of the creatures ran forwards from behind me, their claws impartial to who they felled. I couldn’t move. I understood that my mother must have done the same thing just hours before. She was strong enough to stop the beasts. I was not. They continued and I couldn’t even bring myself to move.
The beasts, unsatisfied, turned on me.
I was surrounded and began to panic. The book in my paws shook, then burst into light.
When I could see again, the forest was empty, restored. Sunlight shone through the undergrowth and blanketed the forest with a soft glow. Time seemed to slow as I felt the weight of what happened. What I had just done.
Tears stung in my eyes as I fell to my knees, surrounded by a bed of beautiful flowers.
The air was warm, it smelled of honey.
Particles of magic floated through the wind.
I grasped for the embers around me, dancing just out of my reach.
I sat back. Afraid. Tired.
Lonely.
Particles of magic floated through the wind.
I grasped for the embers around me, dancing just out of my reach.
I sat back. Afraid. Tired.
Lonely.
“Mama?”
