Indignity, thought Dimentio. Why must I suffer it?

"What is it?"

"I dunno."

"Do you think it's dead?"

"Touch it."

"I'm not gonna touch it, you touch it."

"I dare ya."

Dimentio couldn't roll over and look at them, but he could tell that there were at least three or four of them, whatever they were, leaning over him and whispering in hushed tones. Possibly just children, intrigued by the sight of something they'd never seen before. Humiliating, just humiliating.

"What's going on over here?" called another voice. It confirmed Dimentio's guess that the initial voices were children, because this one sounded older and more stern.

"Aw, we're just playin'."

"Well, keep away from that thing. You have no idea where it's been, it could be covered in germs. You go back to the village. Now, children!"

"Aw!"

"Can't we see what happens?"

"Come on!"

"You're no fun!"

"NOW, children!"

Dimentio heard the shuffling as the children left, and then he felt himself being stood up. He could now see where he was and what was going on. He was in a small clearing of the forest, just like every other small clearing in the forest, surrounded by the same trees and underbrush. But one thing was different- the creature, whatever it was, that was standing behind him. Was it some sort of monster he'd seen a thousand times before, or never in his life? If only he could turn around to see!

"I swear, the strangest things fall from the sky," the monster tutted to itself. "It makes me wish that at least one of the men from our village was a Hero, then maybe we wouldn't be out of the loop so much. Now, let's see..."

It was circling him as it spoke, and as it crossed in front he got a good look. It was an arrow, about as tall as he was. An arrow like a weapon, from a bow and arrow. It had two round eyes under the pointed arrowhead, and a large mouth under that inexplicably stretching far beyond it's skinny arrow body. The aerodynamic feathers on the other end flowed around it like a tribal skirt.

It passed in front of him twice more before it stopped, looked him up and down, and made a shrugging gesture. "Oh, well, I'd better toss it out in the woods.

Dimentio remembered that when Mimi was frozen, her mouth still worked fine. He decided to give his a try.

"If I may," he said, "I don't feel I deserve being tossed into the forest like so much garbage on a dewey morning."

"Oh, I didn't think you were an actual guy," said the arrow. "My bad. Sorry."

It jumped up and brushed Dimentio off with it's skirt end. He felt his muscles relax to the point where he fell forward on the floor. He got up slowly, brushed the dirt off of himself, and nodded to the arrow person. He felt around on his body for any damage that he couldn't feel, and found none. He also found that he no longer had the arrow, and couldn't imagine where it might have ended up.

The arrow leaned forward, as if expecting a thank-you. Instead, Dimentio said, "I'm looking for an arrow."

"You've got to be more specific than that," said the arrow. "There's a lot of us around here."

"As far as I know, the arrow I'm looking for isn't an 'us' so much as it is an 'it.'

"Oh, you mean like an inanimate object?"

"Exactly like an inanimate object," said Dimentio. "It fell from the sky and hit a companion of mine, turning her muscles to stone just as you found me. Would you know anything about that?"

The arrow nodded excitedly. "We saw them, too! They were just like the ones from a long time ago. Way back when."

"Way back when?" asked Dimentio.

"Yeah, way back when," the arrow agreed.

"No, I mean, what is this time period you're speaking about."

"Oh." The arrow thought for a minute. "Funny. We're such a tight-knit group and we certainly don't get many travelers or outsiders, it's been so long since I've had to explain what I meant to anyone, you know, we all know it--"

"Just tell me!" Dimentio cut in. "It's very important for me to find where these wayward arrows are coming from, for I'm on a mission."

"Oh. Well, way back when... see, the oldest of us were young at the time, and we used to live waaay, way up in the sky with our bow. Our bow worked for another guy, I forget his name, who sent bow to these woods, because they were, like, his now, and then one day he disappeared and left us here."

"I... see," said Dimentio, although he didn't see at all.

"Gooru could tell it better than I could," said the arrow apologetically. "He's the village storyteller, don't ya know."

"Would he know about the arrows that fell from the sky recently?" asked Dimentio.

"Sure would!" chirped the arrow. "I'll take you to 'im. I've got to get back to minding the children, though. Come on, step lively."

Nawrocki tosssed a handful of dried shrooms into the potion stock to even it out, stirred it once with a wooden spoon, and stirred the fire under it. He wafted the scent over to his face and frowned. Still too bitter. He scooped up a small bit in a flask and set it on the counter.

Nastasia knocked on the door and came in.

"Hi, Nastasia," said Nawrocki. "Can you come back in a minute? I'm trying to fix this..."

"Yeah, see, that isn't going to be possible," she said. "See, I've been given permission from the Count to check this potion whenever I feel necessary, and I'd like it checked right now, just to make sure it's going all right... 'K?"

"Sure," said Nawrocki. "It's a little bitter, I'm working on that."

Nastasia scooped some up with a cup. "I'm sure you'll figure it out," she said. "Thanks, this is just super. Bye."

When she left, Nawrocki relaxed. When she tested the potion herself, she'd see that it was exactly as it should be.

And that was exactly what Nawrocki wanted them to be looking at.

He reached one of his roots back and tugged on the closed curtain, to put his mind at ease that it was as closed as it could be.

Three hours later, Dimentio was still sitting on the floor in Gooru's hut. He'd long since stopped pretending to be drinking the tea or even listening to Gooru talk. Gooru kept all of the stories in the village, both legends and history, and he was easily distracted. Neither could he stay on topic. Dimentio had not asked a single question since his first one, inquiring as to the nature of one of the characters, and that caused a forty-minute digression that began with the history of that character and ended with an explanation of different lumberjack practices.

"...But the sea witch had made a deal with her sisters, and this knife, when plunged into the prince's heart, and his blood splashed on his feet--"

"Hold on a moment," Dimentio interrupted. "The prince is the founder of this tribe?"

"No, the prince is a character from one of our fairy tales."

"Why are we talking about fairy tales?"

"Because I was explaining how the children of our village were raised."

"Why were you explaining that?"

"To give you a better picture of how our village is so you can appreciate the value of where it came from."

"Can you not just tell me where it came from, and I can appreciate it on my own?"

"... No... no, I don't think that would be possible."

Dimentio thought for a moment on how to get out of this. He looked around the hut- a one room primitive dwelling with minimal in the way of comforts but very practical. As a storyteller, just as Dimentio expected, Gooru wrote down the stories in binded books. From where he was sitting, it looked like the writing system was thankfully the same as his own- no time to wonder about that.

Dimentio created a magic box around Gooru as he spoke, something about a popular children's game Dimentio didn't give a whit about.

"Good heavens, I seem to be trapped in a box!" he said, moderately suprised.

"That can happen," said Dimentio, nodding wisely.

"Oh, it's possible to get out," Gooru said. "It's happened before to members of our village when they travel out. We've found a good way of dealing with strange situations like this. The first time one of our villagers was trapped in a magical barrier, it was a young man by the name of Parce..."

"Do tell," said Dimentio, nodding widely. He edged sideways, but Gooru was wrapped up in his story and wasn't paying attention to Dimentio in the least. Dimentio scooped up the book and disappeared, reappearing out back of the village.

He looked up and down. Six or eight hollow tree stumps with thatched roofs, nine or ten more huts built out of brush to the same standards. Lots of villagers working, but none of them paying attention to him. Anything he can use?

Bingo. One arrow, stuck in the roof of a house. Probably missed from the last arrow shower. Dimentio snatched it up and left, not a moment too soon.