"Neither witch nor demon. A child from the stars."
-Kikimora the Demon.
Chapter 5
Finding Friends
Very quietly, Caleb opened the door to his and Philip's room and gently closed the door, hoping not to awaken his brother from his sleep.
"You're back."
Caleb jumped in fright and spun around. Philip was in bed, reading the Bible in the candlelight.
"Philip! You're still awake."
"Yes, it is quite late. It's a wonder how anyone could still be awake." Philip looked up from his book at his brother.
"Oh, well, I was-"
"With Miss Clawthorne all day and late into the evening?" Philip raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing happened!" Caleb said.
Philip blinked. "Is that your ship in a bottle? What's happened to it?"
Caleb help up the bottled ship he had tucked under his arm and showed Philip what had been done to it. "Maggie took me to meet her sister, Thea, to learn how to brew potions. While I was learning how to do that, Maggie asked Thea's wife, Morgan, to magick up the Golden Guard as a gift for me. Great people, Thea and Morgan, absolutely adorable together. You really ought to meet them. They even gave me a job. I start in the morning."
Philip stared at the Golden Guard as the small-scale ship sailed in place. "...You spent all day traveling around a country of witches. You learned how to brew magic potions at the instruction of a witch. Your precious ship in a bottle has been turned into that, and you are not even remotely alarmed. You have been employed at a witch's potion shop. You were out late with that witch woman whom you are clearly attracted to. And, I'm sorry, but did you say that Margaret's sister is married to a woman?"
"Wicca is more…open-minded than Christianity is," Caleb said. "Honestly, Thea and Morgan are great together."
Philip calmly placed a bookmark in the Bible and set it down on the nightstand. "Caleb…have you lost your mind?"
"I beg your pardon?" Caleb asked.
"You wanna sightsee, that's fine, but do not get lost in this terrible world," Philip said. "Everything you are doing dishonors our faith!"
"Oh, so maybe I should just stay in our room all day as you did?" Caleb replied. "I got a job, how's that a bad thing? We could use the money."
"Caleb, they are witches."
"Yes, they are. And yet, to my knowledge, they have never burned innocent children at the stake before," said Caleb. "I'm willing to bet the very idea of it would sicken them."
"Caleb." Philip tried again. 'They. Are not. Human."
"Neither are birds, and yet I have always preferred their company over the company of man," said Caleb. "Well, you're gonna hate this, while I was asleep–nothing happened between us, by the way–Maggie picked through my memories using magic."
"What?!" Philip exclaimed. "Why the devil was that witch picking through your memories?!"
Caleb pulled a photo out of his coat pocket and showed it to Philip. "So she could give me this."
Philip looked at the photo and his face softened immediately. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open. "...It…it can't be. H-how…" Philip's voice was barely above a whisper.
The colored photo showed a woman with her two boys. She had Philip's nose and Caleb's blonde hair as well as the gap in her teeth, revealed by her loving smile. Her hair was smooth and wavy, hanging down to her neck, and she wore a white dress common among colonial women. Sitting on the floor with the fireplace in the background, she smiled down at the two small boys at either side of her, one of them older than the other, by the look of it. The boys both looked up at their mother happily as she held them both in her arms.
Philip got out of bed and walked up to Caleb. With a shaking hand, he took the photo from Caleb and stared at it with teary eyes.
"...Mother." Philip choked back a sob. "I…I had almost forgotten your face."
"Maggie took me to watch the sunset on the beach and we took shelter from the boiling rains. I woke up on that beach after the rain stopped and Maggie had left. Again, I will clarify, nothing happened." said Caleb. "I found that she had left me this picture memory and a note explaining and apologizing for how she found it."
Philip didn't reply. Instead, he looked to be using all of his willpower to keep himself from breaking into tears as he stared at the picture. Caleb placed a hand on Philip's shoulder and looked at the picture of their mother and their younger selves.
"I definitely take after mother, don't I?" Caleb asked.
Philip smiled. "You do indeed. Everyone says I look more like father."
"Poor bastard."
The brothers shared a laugh and continued to stare at the picture.
"Remember how mother used to cook us flapjacks for breakfast?" Caleb asked.
"I loved it when she made those flapjacks," said Philip. "Making them always put mother in a happy mood. She would smile and hum a sweet melody. On the right day, she would even start to sing. Mother had such a beautiful voice."
"Those flapjacks never tasted very good, though."
"Oh my goodness, they were the most flavorless things I can remember eating."
"I'd give anything to taste those flapjacks again, though," Philip said.
"Yeah." Caleb nodded. "Yeah, me too."
Caleb and Philip stared at the picture of their mother for another minute before Caleb went over to place his ship in a bottle on the table. Philip sat down on his bed and continued to stare at the memory photo.
"I'll be leaving in the morning for my new job," Caleb said as he took off his coat, preparing to bathe and head to bed. "You should really consider going out and exploring a little while I'm at work. It will do you no good to stay indoors all day, Philip."
Philip continued to stare at the picture. "...You know what? Perhaps you are right, Caleb. Perhaps tomorrow, I shall go and see what this world can offer."
"There you go." Caleb said as he opened the door to the washroom. "Give this world a chance. Who knows? You may find a whole new identity in this place."
(The very next morning)
"Stirring the pot, I'm stirring the pot. Stirring the pot, I'm stirring the pot." Caleb sang as he stirred the pot, he's stirring the pot. Caleb tossed in a few mushrooms and a big blue cloud erupted from the cauldron. Caleb wafted his hand and sniffed the potion. "Hmm…needs fairy dust." Caleb looked up at the small fairy sitting up on the top shelf.
"I don't get paid enough for this!" the fairy complained.
"Come on. Get down here, you," said Caleb.
"How would you like it if a giant monkey grabbed you and shook the dust right off of you?!" the fairy demanded.
"Do you really want me to go get Mrs. Clawthorne?" Caleb asked.
"Which one?"
"I dunno, I would assume Thea–just get down here, please!"
The fairy groaned loudly before flying off the shelf and into Caleb's hand. Caleb then shook the fairy over the cauldron and watched as the fairy dust that fell into the mixture turned the potion a lighter shade of blue.
"There we go, that's better," Caleb said. "You okay?"
"I think I'm gonna puke." the dazed fairy said. "Please stop holding me upside down."
"Oh, sorry." Caleb turned the fairy right-side-up and placed her on a shelf to sit. He then filled a tiny thimble with a tummy tonic and handed it the fairy.
"Thanks." the fairy said as she sipped the tonic.
"If you hate this job so much, then why do you stay?" Caleb asked.
"Well, I had another gig reviving this adventuring elf whenever he died, but that was just straight-up torture. Half the time, he died from attacking chickens for whatever reason, and for the rest of the time, I just stayed trapped in a small glass bottle. It was awful. Every waking moment of it was awful. And he was a mute, so all of the adventures were spent shoved into his apparently infinitely deep pockets in absolute silence."
"Oh…how'd you get out of that job?"
"Instead of reviving him, I just kinda flew away and let him die when a giant pig monster killed him."
"...Oh… Well, okay then."
The door to the brewing room opened and Thea came in. "Hello, Caleb! How's that vitality potion coming along?"
"It's finished, actually," said Caleb. "It just needs to sit for a few minutes and cool."
"Perfect," Thea said as she examined the potion in the cauldron. "Hey, would ya mind watching the front counter for a few minutes? I gotta go into the basement and grab some fresh ingredients."
"Well, the potion just needs to sit now, so yeah, I can do that for you." Caleb said.
"Thank you, Caleb. I shouldn't be down there very long. Just watch the front counter, take people's money, and keep an eye out for shoplifters."
"Can do, boss," Caleb said as he made his way out of the brewing room.
"While you're here, I would like to file a work complaint." the fairy said. "I am not a saltshaker. Come to think of it, you don't even pay me."
Philip looked around at the marketplace. Witches and demons of all shapes, sizes, and colors walked about, looking for something to buy or someone to sell to. Stands all around sold fruit or meat or other things.
Philip shuddered at the sight of so many witches and demons around him. He made sure his flintlock was tucked away under his coat before proceeding into the marketplace. Curious, he looked at all of the things being sold. None of it seemed at all ordinary. The fruits, the merchandise, even the meat, it all looked like something from an odd dream.
Or perhaps a nightmare.
Philip looked around for anything that might be of value to him. There was one particular vendor that stood out from the rest, although most of the witches seemed to make an effort of avoiding him. The vendor stood beside a mobile cart that looked to function as both a home and a shop. The vendor himself was big and tall, much like that Hector fellow from the other day. He wore a heavy fur cloak over his robes. His hands were claws and his head was a horned skull of some kind, with two bright yellow eyes.
Philip titled his head curiously before making his way to the large stranger, who kept trying to get everyone's attention, speaking like a traveling priest.
"Have you no desire to know the truth of our origins?!" the large stranger bellowed. "You mock my kind and our ways, but we know the truth! You honor the fallen Titan, whose flesh you've made a home of. But the Titan is the enemy! The Grand Huntsman is the true Wiccan god!"
Philip made his way up to the skull-faced stranger. The large, intimidating creature noticed his approach and spread his arms in welcome. "Ho, there, friend! Have you come to learn of the truth?!"
"And what truth is that?" Philip asked. "You spoke of a…Grand Huntsman? Back where I'm from, I was a huntsman as well."
"Ah, a fellow hunter." the stranger pounded his chest proudly. "The name's Vathic. I am of the Titan Trapper clan."
"Titan…trapper?" Philip asked. "Don't you all thrive among the body of a Titan?"
"How do you think the Titan was killed?" Vathic asked. "Why do you think there are no more Titans left? Yes, this Titan is dead, but no one bothers to ask how the Titan was killed."
And how was the Titan killed?" Philip asked. "An act of this Great Huntsman of yours?"
"Ahhhh, piqued your interest, have I?" Vathic asked. "Finally, a man willing to embrace the truth."
"What truth is that?" Philip asked.
"That the ones we must worship are not those who walked this world before we did," Vathic reached into his cart and pulled out a black tome. "but the ones who came from above and wiped them all out."
Philip raised an eyebrow at the tome being offered to him. On the cover of the tome, was a strange, black and grey symbol, like a face made from a lunar eclipse.
"What is this?" Philip asked.
"The way of the Titan Trappers," Vathic answered. "The tale of the Grand Huntsman."
"Your Bible," Philip muttered as he took the tome from Vathic.
"Phil?"
Philip hid the tome into his coat before turning around. "I've told you before, my name is Philip."
Maggie chuckled and shook her head. "The difference between you and your brother is outstanding, yet remains in a single detail." She tilted her head playfully. "You just can't lighten up, can you?"
Philip's face betrayed nothing but slight annoyance. "Did you want something?"
Maggie's face softened slightly. "Did Caleb…and you, of course…appreciate the gift I left him?"
Philip's face was a blank mask. "...The gift was most appreciated by the both of us, yes. Thank you for that, Margaret," he said softly. "But do not make an attempt to get inside mine or Caleb's head again."
"All I saw was the single memory I pulled from Caleb's mind," Maggie promised. "He told me about what happened to your mother. He told me how much he missed her, and how hard it was to remember what she looked like. Caleb made your mother sound like a wonderful person."
"...She was." Philip looked away. "Amanda was her name. She was known for her kindness and the joy she radiated. She saw the good in everybody she met, even a man as cruel and mean as father. She was the one thing in this world that could soften that hard heart of his." Philip looked back at Maggie with a hardened gaze. "And then she was taken from us. Her death turned father into a beast and it nearly broke Caleb and I. Losing our mother broke our hearts, and being subjected to our father's anger did nothing to heal the pain. The Lord giveth and he taketh away, this I know. But my mother's death was not an act of God. It was an act of something sinister."
Maggie stared sadly at Philip, then she offered him a smile. "Are you hungry at all? I can buy us something to eat if you'd like."
"No." Philip's stomach grumbled, rebuking that 'no'. He crossed his arms and frowned in embarrassment. "Fine."
Maggie nodded and lead Philip through the marketplace. She slowed down so she could walk side-by-side with him.
"So what brings you to the marketplace?" Maggie asked.
"Caleb suggested that I get out of the inn. I just found my way here." Philip said. "What are you doing here?"
"I just really needed to get out of the house," said Maggie. "My mother thinks I slept with your brother."
"I truly hope you did not," said Philip. "But knowing Caleb, I believe that I have little to worry about. He's a shy one. Always has been."
"You can go ahead and say it," Maggie said. "You don't like me."
"I wish you had stayed out of Gravesfeild," said Philip. "I wish Caleb had never met you."
"Us witches mean you and your world no harm," Maggie said. "And I especially mean Caleb no harm."
"Because you fancy him?" Philip asked. "The gifts you've given him suggest so."
Maggie shrugged. "Perhaps. Caleb is handsome and adorable. He's also a kind and gentle soul, and quite adventurous and eager to learn and explore. I do love an adventurous man."
The witch smiled. "But here's the thing. Even if I were to tie your brother to my bedpost and make him mine, that would be none of your business."
"Have you no shame, woman?" Philip demanded.
"Just enough to keep me decent, but not enough to make me boring." Maggie walked up to a food vendor and took out some coins. She handed the money to the vendor and took two shish kebabs, handing one to Philip. "The meat comes from a moccus boar. It's alright, you can eat it."
Philip cautiously bit into his kebab and watched as Maggie began eating hers. The witch devoured her kebab and tossed the stick aside, licking her lips and fingers clean.
Philip took another cautious bite from his kebab. "You're not good for Caleb. He is a Christian Englishman, and being romantically involved with one such as yourself would be sinful and an affront to God."
"You're not his father, and Caleb's not a child," said Maggie. "He can make his own decisions."
"He's a sweet fool who's too naive to realize where the line in the sand is drawn," said Philip. "Nor can he see past his affection and attraction toward you. He is blinded by the stars in his eyes that form when he looks upon a new world to explore and he cannot see exactly how dangerous this world really is. We are Christians who have been led into Hell by a witch. That is what this journey is and Caleb refuses to realize that."
"Ah but that's not it, is it?" said Maggie. "You're just clinging to the ways of a Witch Hunter because you don't know anything else. In addition, you don't want me stealing your big brother from you. Your life is changing, and you hate that."
Philip ground his teeth angrily at Maggie.
"Philip…I would like for us to be friends. I truly would." Maggie said. "We both care about Caleb, and that gives us at least a foot of common ground. But you need to understand that I am not a villain. This world is not evil. What is evil is burning people alive and listening to them scream to death. Caleb knows this. That's why he saved me when no one else would. Evil isn't even remotely about what you are. It's about what you do."
Maggie turned around and walked away. "I'll see you later, Phil."
Philip watched as Maggie left. He glared at the kebab she had bought him before tossing it to the ground.
"That'll be ten…what are they called…snails, please."
The tall, creepy demon reached into his robe and pulled out his money purse. With his bony fingers, he counted out ten of the gold coins before placing them on the counter.
"Thank you, have a good day," Caleb said.
The demon nodded his head hidden in his hood before grabbing the large bottle of poison and heading out of the store.
"I have a bad feeling about that guy, but hey, I just work here." Caleb put the coins away and started wiping down the counter.
The shop door burst open.
"Alright! Where he is?!"
Caleb jumped at the sight of the woman and the sound of her shrill voice. She had large, wild, grey hair and pale skin. Her eyes were like two amethyst, with a pair of bifocals over them. She wore a forest green dress and black boots. Her palisman, a black raven that seemed to glare and frown at everything it looked at, sat on her shoulder. She was tall and fit and looked to be about twice Caleb's age, but no older. She looked like she took care of herself.
Actually, she looked like Maggie and Thea.
"Um…hello." Caleb greeted. "Welcome to Potions and Stuff. How can I help you?"
The angry-looking woman stormed up to the front counter and crossed her arms. "Are you the human?"
"I am a human, yes." Caleb took a nervous step back. "And, who might you be?"
"Caleb?" Morgan came out of the storage room. "We're out of mandrake root, ask Thea if there's more in the–Oh, no."
"Ah, Morgan." The older woman glared disapprovingly at the larger witch. "Still making toys?"
"Ethel, hey, good to see you again," Morgan said with a big forced smile. She looked like she had eaten a sour lemon and was trying to hide the fact that she had eaten said sour lemon. "How have you been?"
"I've been wondering why my daughter-in-law makes toys all day," Ethel stated bitterly. "It's a good thing Dorathea is so talented at potion brewing, otherwise you'd both have to move in with Hector and I."
"I dread the very thought of it," Morgan said through a gritted-teeth smile.
"Oh, leave her be, dear." Hector came into the potion shop, ducking his head to fit under the door. "She's a talented crafter, and she makes Dorathea happy."
"Hector!" Morgan seemed relieved that he was there as well. "It's great to see you! Please don't leave."
"Hello, Morgan." Hector greeted with a smile. "Is Thea here?"
"I believe she is in the basement, gathering ingredients," Caleb said. "It's good to see you again, Mr. Clawthorne." he looked over at the woman Morgan had called Ethel. "And you must be Mrs. Clawthorne. Maggie and Thea's mother. It's nice to meet you."
"Hmph," said Ethel. "So you're the round-eared creature that's been trying to woo my eldest daughter?"
Caleb blushed. "Beg pardon?"
"You heard me." Ethel leaned forward. "Margaret didn't come home until late at night. She spent all day and the late evening with you, didn't she?"
"I-I mean, yes, but," Caleb took another step back. "She was just showing me the Boiling Isles."
"And what, pray tell, happened when the sun went down?" Ethel clenched her fists. "I better not be nine months away from becoming a grandmother or so help me Titan I will feed pieces of you to the-"
"Peace, my love," Hector came up and placed a hand on Ethel's shoulder. "This is the man who saved Margaret's life."
"Yeah, and I wanna know what he had Maggie do to repay him!" Ethel pointed a finger in Caleb's face. "Did you sleep with my daughter?!"
"W-what?! No!" Caleb stammered. "Nothing of the sort happened, I swear in the name of my God!"
"What's with all the shouting?!" a trapdoor behind the front counter opened up and Thea poked her head out. "No refunds! The sign's right on the front door!"
"Thea, your parents are here," Morgan said.
"Wha?" Thea got out of the trapdoor and adjusted her glasses. "Mother! Father!" Thea ran up and embraced her mother first.
"Hello, Dorathea," Ethel said kindly. Her angry and stern face transformed into a loving and happy face. "How's my beautiful baby girl doing?"
"I'm doing fine, mother." Thea released her mother and went over embrace Hector. "Hello, father!"
Hector laughed lovingly and hugged his daughter back. "Hello, my little Dorathea. It is a joy to see you again. Has Morgan been treating you well?"
"She better be." Ethel returned her attention to Caleb. "And I see you've hired this human to work in your shop. What exactly was your profession back in the Human Realm?"
"I'm a lawyer back home, actually," Caleb said.
"Am I supposed to know what that is?"
"I defend people in a court of law who have been accused of a crime."
"So you defend criminals?"
"Accused criminals. It's my job to prove their innocence."
Ethel grunted and narrowed her eyes. "Listen here, human."
"Caleb," he said. "My name is Caleb."
"Your name is whatever I say it is, you round-eared creature!"
"I think I forgot something in the back, I should spend the rest of the day looking for it." Morgan quickly spun around and went to go hide in the storage room.
"Ah, no ya don't! Get back here!" Ethel chased after Morgan into the back. But not before stopping to jab her finger at Caleb's face. "You stay put! I'm not done with you yet either."
Once Ethel was gone, Caleb looked at Hector. "I swear to you, Mr. Clawthorne, nothing happened between me and your daughter."
"I believe you, do not worry," Hector said. "And don't mind Ethel. She's having trouble finding a good reason not to like you other than the fact that you're a human, and that frustrates her."
"Uhhhhhh, hey Caleb, how about you go and take a break?" Thea took a small pouch of snails out of her hair and handed it to Caleb. "Go get some lunch or something and be back in two hours. Mother should be gone by then."
"I can stay and keep working," Caleb said. "Your mother's not that bad."
"And why do you always dress like a man!" they all heard Ethel shout. "Ever heard of a dress?!"
"Two hours you said?" Caleb asked.
"Pick up some mandrake root at the Snapdragon Herb Store on your way back. I already sent the order." Thea said.
"Yes, ma'am. See you in two hours." Caleb headed out of the store. "Good day, Mr. Clawthorne."
"Farewell, Caleb," Hector said as the human left.
Thea looked up at her father. "He does like Maggie, I believe. I also believe that Maggie likes him back."
"You don't think I know that?" Hector asked.
"How do you feel about that?" Thea asked.
"Honestly, I'm just praying to the Titan that Maggie meets someone nice and moves out of the house," Hector replied. "I'm forty. I don't wanna live with my kids anymore."
"And why aren't I a grandmother yet?!" Ethel shouted. "I went through childbirth twice! You or Thea can go through it once to give me a grandbaby!"
"You and your sister can stop by and visit whenever you want, though."
Caleb never felt more like a foreigner as he walked down the streets of Bonesborough. And yet, strangely enough, he had never felt such a sense of informality either. No one he walked past knew him. No one even gave him a second or even first glance. He was simply one among the crowd, free to go anywhere he pleased and do as he pleased, so long as he respected the peace and carried the coin.
It wasn't an experience Caleb was at all familiar with. For once, no one knew him. No one really cared who he was or what he did so long as he didn't cause any mischief, something he was never planning on doing anyway.
It was a good feeling.
"Silence, bard!"
Caleb was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of the angry shout. He turned to the direction of the shout and watched as a man wearing an expensive-looking suit pushed another man to the ground. The witch who was now on the ground wore simple clothing, A pair of brown trousers and black shoes with a white cotton shirt underneath a green jacket. The lute on his back marked him as a musician. His hair was the lightest shade of green, like the color of honeydew, and his beard was a neatly trimmed, extended goatee of the same color. His eyes were a shining silver color, like two polished pieces of eight.
"I will not be talked down to by the likes of you!" the other witch said as he stood over the musician. He wasn't very tall, and had the same thin but strong build Caleb and the bard had. Where the bard's skin was tan, this man's skin was pale in color. His neatly done hair was as green as a summer pine, and his eyes were ice-blue and ice-cold. His expensive-looking suit was grape-purple and the cloak he wore was black as soot, decorated with a large, golden, cursive 'B'.
"Is the truth hard for you to swallow?" the bard asked. "You are a talentless brute and a gutless coward! I don't care how wealthy your family is, I do not fear a wretch like you!"
"Talentless?!" the rich man demanded. "Allow me to demonstrate just how wrong you are."
The bard raised his arms in defense and shut his eyes as the rich man raised his hand and began to draw a circle.
Caleb came up from behind and grabbed the rich man by the shoulder. The rich man barely had enough time to look surprised before Caleb spun him around and planted a firm punch to the witch's jaw.
The bard witch stared in shock as the rich witch fell to the ground. The now-fallen witch growled furiously and drew another circle at Caleb. "Why you little-"
Caleb drew his pistol and fired off a round.
The magic circle died as the rich witch froze, a look of terror on his face. The witch looked down at the hole in the ground made by the shot, only an inch away from his other hand.
Caleb pulled back the pistol's hammer. "The next shot goes right through your skull, killing you almost instantly," Caleb warned. "Unless you leave peacefully, of course. Your decision to live or die depends on your decision to leave or stay. Tick tock."
The rich man looked back and forth between Caleb's unyielding face and the smoking pistol in his hand. With an angry grunt, the rich man rose to his feet and glared daggers at Caleb.
"You will regret making an enemy of me, you round-eared creature," he promised before storming away. Caleb didn't lower his pistol until the rich witch was gone.
Caleb walked over to the bard and offered a hand to help him back up. "Are you okay?"
"Oh yes, good sir. Thank the Titan you arrived when you did!" The bard happily grabbed Caleb's hand and was hoisted back on his feet. "What is that peculiar weapon you carry?"
"English flintlock pistol." Caleb began reloading the firearm, reaching into his coat to pull out the correct material. "Thankfully, that green-haired fellow fell for my bluff. This thing can only fire off a single round before reloading. Who was he anyhow? He acted like he was royalty."
"He's not. Though he indeed enjoys acting like it." the bard replied bitterly. "That was Archibald Blight. Heir to the Blight family fortune."
"Blight?" Caleb asked.
"One of the richest families on the Boiling Isles. And believe me, they live up to their name. A bunch of jackasses, all of them. Well, not all of them perhaps, but enough of them to justify their surname."
The bard brought a palm to his head. "Oh, how rude of me. I haven't even introduced myself to my savior. River Whispers is my name." The bard gave a showman's bow. "And I, good sir, am the greatest bard on the entire Boiling Isles! Self-proclaimed, anyhow. Not terribly famous either. But the statement remains true nonetheless!"
"My name is Caleb," he replied. "Caleb Wittebane."
"Wittebane? A strong name, but not one I have heard before." River commented. "Where are you from, if I may ask?"
"The Human Realm."
River blinked. "You're…you're a human?"
"That is correct," said Caleb.
"By the Titan, I don't believe it." River gawked at Caleb's round ears. "The Human Realm is real? But, how did you get here?"
"My brother and I came here with Margaret Clawthorne through a portal door," Caleb explained.
"You mean that portal the Clawthornes found actually worked?" River asked. "Most had their doubts about that."
"Oh, it worked. Believe me." Caleb said as he put his loaded pistol back in his coat.
"Eh, say. How about I repay your kindness with a drink at the local tavern?" River offered. "On me, of course. I was actually on my way to perform there."
"Sure, I have time," Caleb said. "Lead the way, my friend."
"Splendid!" River walked and placed an arm around Caleb. "Just for you, Caleb my friend, I'll perform with such talent, the Titan himself will want to awaken! But, you know...here's hoping he doesn't, for obvious reasons."
After River's performance, the whole tavern gave him a well-deserved round of applause, Caleb included.
"Thank you! Thank you!" River said. "Please remember to leave tips! I desperately need it!" With that said, River slung his lute over his back and went over to sit with Caleb at their table.
"That was incredible!" Caleb exclaimed. "The music, the lights, the effect of the sound. How are you not more famous?"
"Ah, Archibald has hated me for longer than you might think." River said. "He does all he can to discredit me. I play for places like this one in exchange for food and drink and a little coin. Business has been tough for a while now. It's often difficult just to find a place to sleep at night."
"I see. I wasn't all too successful in my profession back home, either. For a similar reason, mind you." said Caleb. "Well then, I propose we drink away our unsuccessful professions. What say you?"
"I say this," River whistled to the nearest waitress. "A mug of apple blood for me and my friend here, please!"
A few minutes later, two mugs of apple blood were placed in front of Caleb and River. River immediately picked up his mug and started chugging the drink down. Caleb on the other hand stared into the blood-like beverage with an unsettled look.
"Well…when in Rome, I suppose." Caleb picked up the mug and took a drink.
His eyes bulged and he spat the drink back into his mug. Caleb attempted to cough the drink out of his throat as well.
"Heh. Lightweight." a nearby witch commented.
"You okay there, Caleb?" River asked.
"As a human, there are just some things that do not agree with my stomach and tongue." Caleb shuddered. "This stuff is too much like blood."
"Huh. Well, what did you drink back home?" River asked.
"This." Caleb pulled a flask out of his jacket. "Cider. I don't have much of this stuff left. I was kinda hoping to save it for a special occasion."
"I think I know a solution to that problem." River tapped the arm of a passing waitress. "Get this man an ever-filling goblet, please."
A moment later, the waitress placed a plain, silver goblet in front of Caleb, who blinked at it in confusion.
"Drop a drop of your cider into the goblet." River instructed.
Caleb did as River instructed and dropped a tiny drop of cider into the goblet from his flask. His eyes widened in absolute wonder as he watched the goblet fill with cider. Caleb took the goblet and chugged the cider down, then he watched as the goblet refilled itself once emptied.
"...Waitress?" Caleb put his flask back in his coat. "Please tell the manager of this establishment that I will give him as much of my blood as he wants for one of these goblets."
"You can buy one with money as well." said the waitress.
Caleb shoved his bag of snails into the waitress's hand.
"Thank you for your purchase. Have a great day." the waitress said before walking off.
Caleb drained his goblet once more and watched as the goblet refilled. "Care to try it, River?"
"Sure, why not?" River took the goblet from Caleb and took a drink. The bard then made a face like he was about to sneeze and shook his head like a dog drying off. "Wow! That is strong!"
"And that witch called me the lightweight." Caleb chuckled and took the goblet from River. "Best thing to drink back in my hometown."
"Speaking of which, why are you here, instead of your home?" River asked. "Simply sightseeing, are you?"
"Long story short, I betrayed my people saving Margaret Clawthorne's life. And now, my brother and I can't go back to the Human Realm for…I don't know how long it will take. It's a guessing game at this point, really."
"Oh." River's gaze became sympathetic. "You...cannot return home?"
"No. Not unless I want to be killed by my own townspeople." Caleb said. "No good deed goes unpunished, I suppose."
"Well, then, Mr. Hero." River smiled kindly. "I hope The Boiling Isles can be a good home for you in the meantime."
Caleb stared sadly into his goblet and swirled its contents. "...It has, actually. I must confess. I have…never actually felt more at home than I do in this world. I've been learning potion brewing, you know. I even took a job at a potions shop. I have a roof over my head and four walls to shield me from the wind and rain. I have friends. Not many, but more than I did back home. I love my world, and I love the God that my people worship. But now that I'm here…well…the thought of returning home…doesn't excite me as it should. And for that, I only feel the deepest of shame."
River tilted his head. "Are you…thinking about staying in this world?"
"You mean am I thinking about abandoning my world, my home, my very reality…my brother, the only family I have left, and staying in a world that is described by my religion as the evilest of places?" Caleb hung his head. "...I am beginning to, yes. And I feel ashamed of it. I don't miss my world like I should, and I feel terrible for it. I just... My home hasn't quite felt like home for a while now. Not since the passing of my mother. Not to mention the fact that few people actually liked me back home. It's different here. It's a fresh start. It's a...refreshing start."
River stared at Caleb for a long time. Then he took the goblet, chugging its contents down and fighting to not show the burn that the liquor left in his throat.
"Here's to…figuring out our problems." River managed to say before coughing.
Caleb stared at River, then laughed. "Alright, then." He took the ever-filling goblet from the bard and chugged the cider down. "Here's to new friends and new beginnings."
"How long ago did you send him off?" Maggie asked.
"Over six hours ago," Thea said. She looked up at the night sky. "I had to go to the Snapdragon Herb Shop myself to get that shipment of mandrake root I asked him to grab."
"You're worried something bad has happened to him?" Maggie asked.
"By the sound of your voice, I'd say you are too."
Instead of replying, Maggie walked up to a nearby witch. "Hey, you. You see a man with round ears and blonde hair pass by here?"
"Oh, that guy?" the chubby witch man replied. "You won't believe it. He clocked a Blight in the jaw to protect some bard."
"He attacked a Blight?" Thea asked. "That's not good."
"Oh, please. The Blights are just a lot of talk. I'm not concerned about them." Maggie looked back at the chubby witch. "Where did the blonde man go?"
"I think the bard took the blonde man to the nearby tavern to repay him for his kindness with a round of drinks." the chubby witch said.
"Good. Thanks, fatty." Maggie headed for the tavern. "Come on, Thea."
"Sorry about her," Thea said to the witch man before leaving. "She tends to get a little rude when she starts to worry."
Maggie and Thea made their way to the local tavern. The elder sister opened the tavern doors and looked inside. It looked like the place was closing up for the night, what with the staff cleaning up the place. Maggie looked around for any sign of Caleb.
She found her human friend passed out on a table, snoring away as he gripped a silver goblet in his hand. Across from Caleb, the bard that was mentioned by the fat witch sat in a similar state, passed out in his chair, head hanging back with drool coming out of his mouth.
"Awww, he found a friend," Maggie said. "You're not going to fire him for this, are you?"
"Nah," said Thea. "He's lonely in this world. All he has is his brother. And you, I suppose. I'm happy for him that he's made one more friend."
"I actually bumped into his brother earlier today," Maggie said. "Philip was walking about the marketplace."
"I haven't met him. Is he like Caleb?" Thea asked.
"Hardly. I was honestly surprised to find him out and about in the witch world." Maggie said. "I'm curious as to what he was looking for."
Sitting in bed, in the light of the candelabra on the nightstand, Philip read through the pages of the black tome given to him by the Titan Trapper. It was a strange book, telling of a bizarre story like some kind of ancient myth.
"And the tribe of Titans, led by their terrible chief, raised their weapons skyward in challenge to the great Star Gods." Philip read aloud. "The mighty King of the Stars, outraged by the savage disrespect of the giants who dwelled below their realm, met the Titans' roars with the shine of their light, and a great war began."
Philip flipped a page. "The war between the Titans of the Land and the Gods of the Stars was a terrible war, with death and carnage on both sides. But the war was won by what remained of the Star Gods, resulting in the annihilation of the Titan Tribe, ending with the death of the terrible Chief of the Titans."
Philip flipped to the next page. "However, heartbreak was also brought on by the war to both sides. During the Great War, the prince of the Star Gods, son of the Great King, joined the War against his father's warning. The joyful prince danced on the bodies of the fallen Titans, their bodies submerged in the shed tears of both Gods and Titans. On those bodies, we, among the first witches, thrived. To us, the glorious Titan Trappers, the prince became known as the Great Huntsman. And together, we fell many of the Titans by his lead. But to the non-believers, to the ones who favored the terrible Titan Chief, the prince became known as The Collector, named so for his love of keeping trophies."
Philip licked his lips and turned to the next page. "Hearing the cries of the heretics, the Titan Chief came after the Grand Hunstman himself. Unable to stand against the Cheif of the Titans, the prince was imprisoned, locked away in a space between dimensions. This terrible act angered the King of the Stars greatly. Swearing vengeance, the King of the Gods promised to find and destroy the Titan Chief's first-born son. So before his death, the Titan Chief hid his infant son away from the Star Gods, on an island that could not be found by any from above, protected by sentinels neither living nor dead, incapable of pain or fear."
Philip flipped to another page. "The Titan Chief's corpse became the new home of the heretic witches, who praised the very ground they walked on. But the rage of the Titan Chief, caused by having to hide his child away from the world, boiled the sea of tears around him. And the tears of the Star Gods, having lost their young prince to the void, became the rain that burned with grief and hatred towards the deceased chief. But the Grand Hunstman still lives, trapped in the void between dimensions. May we, the Titan Trappers, strive for the Grand Hunstman's freedom. Together, we shall hunt down the last of the Titans, and bring the race to extinction once and for all."
Philip closed the tome and stared at the wall in deep thought.
"...The Collector." he mused.
Personally, I think my Collector Titan and Star God story was pretty good.
Until next time!
