Author's note: Hey all, time for a throwback! I originally published this 02 January 2005 on The Attic. Today I dusted it off and gave it a once-over edit. This takes place during Baldur's Gate II, in Imnesvale, featuring some NPCs the player runs into in that area. Happy reading!
The yard surrounding Imnesvale's one-room schoolhouse was filled with laughing children, playing and otherwise enjoying the sunny day. One little girl stood a fair distance from the building, surrounded by three boys of about the same age.
"Stop it! Leave me alone!" The girl said, glaring stoutly at her tormentors.
"Stop what, Krazy Kaatje?" Max drawled in mock innocence.
"Yeah, who're you gonna tell on us, anyway? Merella? She's the one's been killin' things around here," Atta sneered. If Kaatje had to pick the one person she absolutely could not stand, it would be Atta. He never passed up a chance to bother her.
"I heard she's a vampire," Jem said.
"No, a werewolf," said Max. Kaatje wished she could wipe the grin off his stupid face. They didn't know anything about Merella. Merella was good and wise and kind.
The bell pealed twice to announce the end of recess, and the three boys raced back inside the schoolhouse. Kaatje sniffed and trudged after them. She knew it wouldn't be the last time they bullied her.
Kaatje walked home slowly after school, dragging her toes through the dust of the road in twisting, aimless patterns and chewing on the end of one braid. She knew once she got there she would have to fetch the cows straightaway. She disliked that particular chore, only because of the trouble that had been plaguing the village lately. Kaatje had seen things move in the shadows when they thought she wasn't looking. Things that made her walk a little faster. She stopped at Merella's house almost daily now, if only to dispel her fear of the night before she led the cows the rest of the way home. Kaatje knew if she told her parents about what she saw they would make her stay home and she wouldn't have to get the cows anymore, but she she didn't want to seem like a chicken. She wanted to be brave and strong like Merella.
Kaatje had reached her house now, and dropped off her school books before heading out to where the cows usually grazed. A person with tousled blonde hair followed her, sneaking as best he was able.
Kaatje reached the makeshift pasture, unaware of her pursuer. "Come on, cows, let's go," she said, patting each on the rump to get them moving. She prodded them on gently. The cows were old and docile, obediently following her direction.
"Boo!" a voice cried behind her, and Kaatje shrieked and jumped away. The voice laughed. "I scared you! Ha ha!"
Suddenly recognizing the speaker for who he was, Kaatje turned around, balled her fist and punched Atta square in the eye. He gave a yelp of pain and went sprawling, shocked that she had finally fought back. The cows had fled, already heading for home.
"Ow!" Kaatje hissed, shaking her hand out and examining her knuckles. When Merella had taught her how to punch someone, the ranger hadn't mentioned that it would hurt her, too!
She looked at Atta and frowned. It was all his fault.
"Whatcha do that for?" he protested.
"You . . . you . . . you horrible excuse for a human being!" Kaatje burst out, stomping over to him. She had heard her mother say the same thing to her father a few days ago, and it seemed to fit him.
She opened her mouth to start in on Atta again, and caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Kaatje froze, brown eyes wide. She kept still for a minute. Atta, realizing something was wrong, stayed silent. When she was sure the mysterious figure was gone for the time being, she held out her hand. Too scared to do anything else, Atta took it and she helped him up. They stood close together instinctively. The two suddenly remembered their hands were still clasped, but neither was willing to let go anymore.
"What was that thing?" Atta rasped, his mouth dry.
"Don't know," Kaatje whispered. "I've seen them before, when I take the cows home."
"Let's get out of here," Atta said.
"Good idea," Kaatje agreed, and they started towards Imnesvale. The moon was almost full, providing just enough for the children to recognize landmarks and just little enough to keep them guessing at shadows and jumping out of their skins at the slightest breeze.
They had gone only about fifty feet through the woods and already Atta was trembling uncontrollably. Kaatje herself was on the verge of a panicked meltdown, but was trying her best to hide it so she didn't go completely mad. She was probably the only thing keeping Atta from running screaming like a girl all the way back to Imnesvale. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course.
A rumbling whoosh came from the trees to their left and a pair of red dots peered out at them. The cows forgotten, Kaatje yanked on Atta's arm to get him to move, and they crashed into the dense brush to their right. Kaatje had always been a fast runner but right now she felt like she was flying. She and Atta emerged into a clearing. Kaatje's heart clenched with panic as she realized she didn't have a clue where they were. Everything looked so different in the dark! This was it; they were done for. She and Atta were going to die here, in the woods just outside of town.
Atta squeezed her hand suddenly. "Look! A house!" he gasped, pointing. Kaatje spun to look. Out of pure serendipity, there was a cabin behind them. Merella. The two scared kids children inside and slammed the door.
"Merella!" Kaatje said. She exhaled in sheer relief. Atta leaned against the wall beside her, breathing hard.
"What is it, child?" the ranger said, rising from the bed. She had awoken when they had entered and now she lit the bedside lamp to better see them.
"Something's out there," Kaatje said cautiously. "It found me and Atta. It came after us in the dark. I think it's a werewolf."
"There aren't any werewolves around here," Merella said, her brow furrowed. "The closest pack I've heard of is at least two days' journey from here, in the druid grove by Trademeet."
"Merella, can we stay here until they go away?" Kaatje pleaded. "Please? Me and Atta won't cause no trouble."
"Atta and I won't cause any trouble," Merella corrected gently. "Of course you may stay here. I'd never let you out of my sight with those creatures on the loose!"
Atta slid down the wall, closing his eyes. He seemed to be relaxing slightly now that the danger was gone. Kaatje's body felt like she had run all the way to Trademeet and back and done more chores than she'd ever done in her life. All she wanted to do was sleep. But burning questions always came first.
"Merella?" she said sleepily.
"Yes, child?"
"Why does it hurt to hit people?" Kaatje realized how childish her question sounded and flushed.
Merella sighed sadly. "It is the price we pay for violence, child. In harming our fellow man we also harm ourselves. It preserves nature's balance; we are not meant to cause pain to others."
It didn't make sense to Kaatje. "Then why did you teach me how?"
"I'm afraid you may be too young to understand, Kaatje," Merella said gently.
"I'm ten," Kaatje said. She yawned widely.
"Indeed, you are," Merella agreed thoughtfully. "I shall think on it tonight. For now, rest, dear. You and the boy have had a long night. It would do you well to get some sleep."
Kaatje needed no further urging. She sat down beside Atta, drew her knees up to her chest, and closed her eyes.
Poor Kaatje, Merella wrote in her journal, after the two children had drifted off to sleep. Tonight she and a boy from the village escaped one of the creatures and came to my cabin for shelter. That girl has gone through things no child should ever experience. The boy, I've discovered, is the one she is forever complaining of. Atta, I believe his name is. His eye is blooming into a spectacular black-and-blue mark, a result of their childhood rivalry. Kaatje asked me why it hurt when she hit him, and I explained nature's balance. She wanted to know why I taught her how if she wasn't supposed to use the knowledge. I feel she is too young to understand there are dangerous things in this world, not just those here in Imnesvale. Kaatje, if she is to become the warrior that she dreams of, will need to defend herself in the future. She has a good head on her shoulders - I believe she will persevere. We shall see.
I fear the creatures are becoming bolder, and it is only a matter of time before they risk entering the village. I cannot let that happen, but my skills will prove useless without rest. I must sleep for now.
The next morning was bright and cheery. It was hard to feel threatened now that the sun had banished the shadows. Atta, emboldened by the day, proclaimed he had acquired "girl cooties" the night before. Kaatje restrained herself from punching him again. His already bruised eye was satisfaction enough, and besides, it wasn't worth hurting her own knuckles again.
They returned to the village, bickering the whole way, and Kaatje felt oddly disappointed. She had foolishly hoped Atta would change after what they had gone through together, but it seemed it was not to be. She went home to change her clothes and assure her parents she was fine. They made her promise to come straight home after school and best of all, she didn't have to fetch the cows anymore! Kaatje skipped all the way to the schoolhouse.
Later, the schoolhouse loomed in front of Kaatje, as threatening as any shadowbeast. It promised the endless torture of taunts and insults she regularly endured.
Recess came too soon for Kaatje, and the all too familiar trio approached her, Max and Jem in the lead with Atta lagging behind. He kept his eyes on the ground as though he were embarrassed, but she was certain that couldn't be the case. They formed the customary semicircle around her.
"Krazy Kaatje didn't come home with the cows last night," Max began. Atta shifted his feet uncomortably. "Were you chasing wolves instead?"
"Yeah, she was visiting her vampire friend," Jem laughed.
Kaatje braced herself for the third remark. It didn't come. She glanced up at Atta. He was staring at her, as though willing his mouth to move. Instead, he turned to Max and swung his fist into the other boy's chin. Kaatje gasped as Max fell over backwards with a shriek of pain and surprise. A wide-eyed Jem backed away; unwilling to fight, he turned and ran towards the schoolhouse.
Kaatje's mouth had fallen open as she watched Atta defend her in the way he knew best — without words. He grinned at her roguishly, as only another ten-year-old could, and said, "You're gonna catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that." Kaatje decided Atta wasn't so bad after all — for a boy.