The next morning, Elisheva made a decision. "I'm gonna get as much intel about this place as much as I can."
Although it was summer, the morning was quite foggy as she made her way to the town.
Glipwood was eerily quiet now that the many visitors had packed up their belongings and left town for another long, sad year in Fang-infested Skree. The Barber's lanky form could be seen inside his barbershop, sweeping. Ferinia's Flower Shop had a CLOSED sign in the window. The Only Inn's windows and doors were wide open, Mr. and Mrs. Shooster, the proprietors, were busy changing the bedding and shaking out the rugs. Shaggy sat snoring on a bench outside his tavern.
Just to be on the safe side, Elisheva stole a furtive glance at the jail. Commander Gnorm, to her great relief, was dozing in a rocking chair on the jail stoop with his pudgy greenish hands folded across his chest. The rings on his fingers glimmered, even in the shade.
"Oh, yeah. Sleep on, tubby." Elisheva grumbled under her breath. Hopefully he and the other Fangs won't bother her.
Well the internet is out of the question. This place was pretty much stuck in between the middle ages and the 1800's. No electricity, and no gunpowder either (she still wasn't sure if that was a good thing). That meant she'll have to resort to the old fashioned way: the library. And the closest thing to one was…
The bookshop.
Elisheva made her way down the cobblestone streets, her eyes fixed on the sign in the window of Books and Crannies. It wasn't exactly the library she had been hoping for, but it was the nearest thing to it in this quaint little town.
Here goes. Pushing open the creaky door, she was greeted by the musty smell of old books and the sound of a bell jingling overhead. The shop was small and cluttered, with shelves stacked high with books of every shape and size.
Books and Crannies was a place of wonder. Rows upon rows of books, many of them tattered, charred, and ancient looking, filled every shelf and corner nearly all the way to the high ceiling. Tall books, skinny books, books about daggerfish, books about the lineage of the kings of Skree, books about the rise and fall of the use of sugarberries in cake, books of legend about Anniera, books about books about other books, all organized according to subject in a maze of shelves. But it wasn't just books. Rolls of maps and odds and ends and surprising surprises were lying here and there among the many volumes, in plain sight but easy to miss in all the clutter.
In the corner, a round grandfatherly man with a short, white beard and balding head with wire-rimmed glasses sat behind a desk, poring over an ancient-looking tome.
"Ah, good morning," he said, looking up as Elisheva entered. "Welcome to Books and Crannies. How may I be of service?"
Elisheva explained that she was looking for historical information about Aerwiar, Glipwood and its inhabitants, this included the Fangs. The bookseller raised an eyebrow at the mention of the notorious lizard folk, but nodded thoughtfully.
"I may have a few books that could be of interest to you," he said, rising from his chair and making his way over to one of the shelves. "But first, perhaps you'd like a cup of tea? It's a bit chilly in here this morning."
Elisheva nodded gratefully, glad for the chance to warm up and regroup before delving into her search for information.
The bookshop owner, Mr. Oskar Reteep was a polite scholarly man, who spent countless hours cataloging and committing quotes from obscure authors to memory.
"You're not from Skree, nor from anywhere in Aerwiar, are you?" The man stated, not asked after he poured the tea.
Elisheva was taken aback. "W-what makes you say that? How can you tell?"
Oskar adjusted his glasses, peering at her in fascination as though she were a recently discovered archeological find. "Aside from your inquiries about Skree and her populace, your attire, for example. The fabric does not look anything imported from Torrboro nor Dugtown."
Elisheva had almost forgotten that she was still wearing the clothes she had worn in her own world under her new cloak: blue Henley shirt, cargo fit jeans, and simple slip on sneakers. She suddenly felt very out of place in this medieval-like town.
"Oh, erm," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, you got that right. I'm not from around here. I'm just passing through for a while."
Oskar nodded thoughtfully. "I thought as much. It's not often we get visitors from other worlds in these parts. You must have had something happen to you that cannot be described in a few words."
This made Elisheva sigh sadly. "You have no idea. But I don't want to talk about it. At least not just yet."
A little man with pointed ears and beady eyes watched them with wily interest from the top of a bookshelf. His movements made her think of a klipspringer. Zouzab Koit was a ridgerunner, whom Oskar had accepted as his assistant six years earlier upon opening a crate that was supposed to have been full of books from Torrboro. Instead, Oskar had been shocked to find a starving, frightened Zouzab cowering inside.
Ridge runners were a little people, and little known in Skree. Zouzab's descriptions of his homeland and harrowing life in the Killridge Mountains were very Neat, were his stubbly hair and pointed features. His dress and behavior were quite strange. Strangest of all, he couldn't help climbing on everything taller than himself, which was most things.
He particularly looked intrigued when Oskar correctly deduced that Elisheva wasn't from Aerwiar. It might be judgmental, but there was just something about Zouzab that Elisheva did not trust.
Elisheva couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as Zouzab watched them with his beady lime-green eyes. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was that made her distrust him, but there was something about him that set her on edge.
"Wassa matter, ya never seen a Manhattan sister before?" she said, flipping her hair.
Zouzab's eyes glittered with keen interest. Elisheva couldn't shake the feeling that he was sizing her up, trying to determine if she posed a threat.
"I've seen many things in my time," Zouzab said, his voice was thin and brittle—not like a child's, but not like a man's either, with a soft west country accent. His gaze never left Elisheva. "But I've never seen someone like you before."
Elisheva raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
Zouzab grinned deviously. "Oh, certainly! You're quite intriguing. I'm sure we'll have many fascinating conversations."
Elisheva felt a shiver run down her spine at his words. She couldn't help but wonder what he meant by that. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, trying to sound casual.
As Zouzab climbed down from the bookshelf and made his way towards the door, Elisheva couldn't help but feel relieved. There was something about him that she just couldn't put her finger on, but she knew she didn't want to be around him any longer than necessary.
"Who was that?" she asked Oskar, jerking her thumb in direction of the door.
"That was Zouzab Koit, my assistant," Oskar said with a shrug. "He's a bit odd, but he means well."
Elisheva nodded, still feeling uneasy. She made a mental note to keep her guard up around the riderunner in the future.
As the hours passed, Elisheva couldn't help but wonder what other secrets this world held, and if she was truly prepared to face them. However her thoughts began drifting to the Fangs of Dang. They were another race entirely. It's already obvious they're dangerous apart from their inclinations towards violence, their venomous bite is lethal. But how did an entire race of reptilian folk manage to subdue a whole population of humans so easily? And a further mystery, although she'd noticed they were a few females (from voices and referrals) with more males in their numbers… there weren't any young ones. This raised a lot of questions both for safety reasons and for the curious side of human nature.
"Mr. Reteep, can I ask you something?" she said, setting down her book. She'd purchased a journal for writing down her findings and keeping notes.
"Of course, my dear," Oskar replied, looking up from his own research.
"What can you tell me about the Fangs?" Elisheva asked.
Oskar's expression grew somber. "As you've noticed, the Fangs are the creatures that have been terrorizing the countryside for years. They have sharp teeth and claws, they're quite venomous for one bite is fatal. And they're known for their speed and agility."
Elisheva nodded, taking notes in her new journal. "I know from experience, they're fast for bipeds and they can go on all fours if need be. This make me wonder what's their growth rate."
Oskar raised an eyebrow. "Their growth rate?"
"Well, yeah," Elisheva said, leaning forward. "I mean, scientifically speaking, how quickly do they mature? How long do they live? Are there any known weaknesses that we can exploit?"
Oskar stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "Those are all good questions, my dear. Unfortunately, I don't have all the answers. The Fangs are a mysterious and elusive group, and not much is known about their biology. They didn't show up until... nine years ago when they took over Skree." He said this last part glumly.
"Some of us still remember what it was like to stroll through a town or city after dark or to ride a horse through the forest without fear. In the years before the Great war, rangers and trappers braved the forest and tamed the deadly beasts that prowled within it. But the Fangs had taken every weapon in the land. Every sword and shield, every bow and arrow, every dagger and spear, every farm tool that could be used as a weapon was locked away and guarded."
Elisheva felt a pang of sadness as she heard about the devastation they had wrought on Skree, and she couldn't help but blame Gnag, the Nameless, for her own family's separation.
"Right. The Nameless psycho, I heard of him," Elisheva said, frowning.
Oskar nodded gravely. "Yes, Gnag is a dangerous villain who seeks nothing but power and destruction. He's caused a great deal of suffering in this world."
Elisheva nodded, feeling a sense of determination. She knew that she couldn't let Gnag win, not when so much was at stake.
Elisheva sighed, feeling frustrated. "Well, I guess I'll just have to keep digging. Maybe I'll find something in one of these books."
By noon, Elisheva was still in Books and Crannies, poring over ancient tomes and dusty manuscripts. She had purchased a small journal to make notes and sketch maps as though she were still in school, looking up books for a project. Too bad this place didn't have printers, it might've been sort of easier. She was so engrossed in her studies that she didn't notice when Zouzab returned to the shop.
"Still here, I see," he said, his thin voice barely audible.
Elisheva looked up from her book, startled. "Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm still here. I'm just trying to learn as much as I can about this world."
From what she read on Zouzab's race, the ridgerunners are a seclusive, sentient race that dwell mainly in the Killridge Mountains of Dang. They love fruit of any kind, in any form. Ridgerunners are also fond of artful verse, though the subject matter is almost all about fruit. Supposedly, ridgerunners are not very dangerous, as it is said that as long as you are not a fruit, a Ridgerunner won't eat you, but they can be bribed with fruit to do almost anything.
Zouzab nodded, his beady eyes gleaming with interest. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Elisheva hesitated for a moment, unsure if she could trust him. But then she remembered what she'd read, maybe she can bribe him with fruit if only just to keep him out of her hair.
"Actually, that would be great," she said, putting on a friendly smile. "I'm trying to learn more about the history of Aerwiar. Do you know of any good books on the subject?"
Zouzab's face lit up. "Oh, I know just the thing," he said, scurrying off to the shelves.
Elisheva watched him go, feeling a sense of unease. But she knew she needed his help if she was going to get anywhere with her research. As Zouzab brought her book after book, Elisheva kept him at bay by offering him fruit from her backpack. He seemed to be satisfied with the bribes, and soon he was contentedly munching on an apple while she continued her studies.
Later, Oskar asked Elisheva about her own world. Although it might be counterproductive, it was while since she met someone genuinely curious about her lost home. She didn't have to tell him how she got to Glipwood or why, just about what it was like back home. Elisheva told him about growing up in New York City, about the hustle and bustle of the streets and the diversity of the people who lived there. She almost wished she brought a brochure or a guidebook to show him.
"It sounds like a fascinating place," Oskar said, his eyes twinkling with interest.
"It is," Elisheva said, smiling. "But it's not without its problems. There's a lot of inequality and injustice in my world too. That's why part of why I'm here, trying to make a difference."
Oskar nodded, looking thoughtful. "It's admirable that you want to make a difference. I believe that we all have a duty to make the world a better place, in whatever way we can."
Elisheva felt a sense of warmth at the man's words. She knew that she had found a true ally in him, someone who shared her ideals and her determination to fight for what was right. As they continued to talk and swap stories, Elisheva couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected friendship.
Elisheva's short stop became a few more days. In that space of time for extra money, she ran errands for Oskar. The first three days she'd helped recover a rare manuscript for years, the rest she tried to keep true to her faith, one of them was the dietary practices. These included the avoidance of scavengers of land or sea. Second was the observance of the Shabbat. Just because she was in a new land and forcibly separated from her family didn't mean she was going to forsake their faith anytime soon.
Thus, Elisheva spend her first week helping Oskar Reteep with his research and bringing Zouzab fruit just to keep him out of her hair. And there he was, perched like a vulture at the apex of the roof.
"And hello to the newcomer," said Zouzab. "I trust your trip was pleasurable?"
"Yeah," Elisheva replied, pursing her lips. "Pretty much. Is Mister Reteep inside?"
"Inside, yes. Many are the boxes that arrived by wagon not an hour ago. Many new books for you to read, wandering Bennet." Zouzab was courteous, but Elisheva's intuition reminded her that there was far more going on behind his little eyes than his mouth ever spoke.
"Catch!" Elisheva tossed him a bag of fresh fruit which he opened eagerly.
Zouzab said no more and watched her enter the bookstore.
'Poor twisted little creep.' Elisheva thought. She still couldn't shake the feeling of unease that always seemed to accompany her interactions with Zouzab. She knew that she couldn't trust the Ridgerunner, but she also knew that she needed to keep him happy and out of her hair if she wanted to continue her sleuthing.
As she entered the bookstore and greeted Oskar, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at being away from Zouzab and his wily ways. She knew that Oskar was a good man, and she felt fortunate to have his help and guidance in her quest to uncover the secrets of this strange new world.
"Good to see you, my dear," Oskar said, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "I have some new books that I think you'll find quite interesting. They arrived just this morning, fresh off the wagon from Torrboro."
Elisheva's eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of new books to read. She knew that she had much to learn about the world of Aerwiar, and she was eager to dive into the pages and explore all that it had to offer.
As she settled in to read and continue her research, Elisheva couldn't help but feel a sense of determination and purpose. She knew that the road ahead would be long and fraught with danger, but she was determined to uncover the secrets of this strange new world and find her family, no matter what the cost.
Oskar's wide desk was cluttered with stacks of parchment, various kinds of pipes, feather quills, and bottles of ink. A nearly spent candle sputtered on a brass candlestick and lit up an ancient-looking map that was unrolled on the center of the desk.
"Did all these books come from Torrboro, sir?" Elisheva asked.
Oskar's eyes twinkled. "The true question is where didn't these books come from. I traveled all over Skree after the Great War, salvaging what could be salvaged. You wouldn't believe the rubble. Those rotten Fangs burned our homes and cities to the ground. But as it always does, the dust settled. As the Skreeans began to unearth a life again, they also unearthed these treasures. Books. Only they weren't treasures any-more. Not to everyone. I knew that I had to gather them up, preserve them." Oskar was busy dusting off piles of books and rambling. "Most people were working so hard at rebuilding and adjusting to life with evil snake men breathing down their necks that they didn't have time for books," he muttered. "They were given to me or sold for pennies. As the infamous Bweesley the Leaf Thief said in his memoir, 'Cheap is almost free.' Look around, my child. This is the best of the old Skree. Or at least, it's what's left of it."
Elisheva contemplated his words. The piles of books and cluttered shelves were somehow more than that. What Oskar had preserved was the memory of a world that had passed away—as surely as her mother Rivka had passed away. Oskar too seemed lost in thoughts about the past. He tenderly cradled a stack of books in his hands. "On Dragon Day," he said, "the people who visit me come to remember who they were. They always leave sad."
Elisheva faces of the people in town with their weak smiles and hollow laughter. It seemed everyone and their grandmother lived in fear as much the Israelites had as slaves in Egypt or oppressed by the Philistines in the Old testament.
She listened to Oskar's words with a mixture of fascination and sadness. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like to live through the Great War and the destruction that followed. She felt a sense of gratitude for Oskar's efforts to preserve the books and knowledge of the old Skree, but she also couldn't help but feel a sense of loss for the world that had passed away.
As she looked around at the cluttered shelves and stacks of books, she couldn't help but feel a sense of reverence for the knowledge and wisdom contained within them. She knew that she had much to learn about the world of Aerwiar, and she was grateful to have Oskar as her guide and mentor.
Later, that afternoon Elisheva intended to get some supper hopefully before sundown. She was looking into the window of a bakery. Cakes, pies, fresh bread, and buns filled the shop window. Elisheva walked inside. With the coins she was able to purchase what looked like brioche bread and several pastries. Too bad they didn't have baguette, that'd make a fine dinner that evening.
Ten minutes later, Elisheva sat on the stoop outside the bakery. She fished the hot steaming pastry (it looked like a Belgian bun) out of its bag and held it to her mouth. Suddenly she saw something that stopped her from eating.
She spotted the homeless man she'd seen in the town every so often, the one who always wore socks on his feet and hands. Her heart went out to him. This hits a little close to home, reminding her of the homeless people back in New York. The congregation her family was a part of worked a soup kitchen with volunteers, her mom used to bake goodies for special occasions. Too bad there's nothing like a shelter here.
"Oh, is he hungry?" She wondered, feeling a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't explain it, but she felt drawn to the man, as if she was meant to talk to him.
Without thinking, she got up and followed the Sock man down the street. She trailed him from a distance, watching as he skidded along, mumbling a few words that rhymed every now and then.
For a moment, she hesitated. She didn't know what to say or how to approach him. But then she remembered the rolls she had bought at the bakery and decided to offer them to him.
Walking carefully toward the man in socks, Elisheva took a pastry from the bag. Then she held it out, trying to smile. The man looked at her dully for a long moment, not comprehending. A closer look showed that he had heterochromia, the left eye was blue and the right was brown.
For a moment, Elisheva thought he was going to turn her away. "It's okay, take it. The bun's nice and warm."
Slowly the man reached out and took the pastry from her and smelled it. Elisheva smiled, feeling a sense of relief. She had expected the man to be hostile or suspicious, but he seemed genuinely grateful for the gesture.
Eh, why not? Elisheva hesitated for a moment, trying to ignore her rumbling stomach, then she handed the paper bag containing the brioche and a couple more pastries to the homeless man. "Here, take the bread and the pastries too. You look like you could use this more than me, I only need one."
The man took the bag hesitantly, his mouth slightly parted but said nothing. However he did nod his thanks.
With a final little smile, Elisheva turned and headed down the block in direction of her tree, eating the single pastry she kept. She passed by the windows of several shops and inns, not noticing Ferinia, the Shoosters, the inkeepers, and Shaggy, the tavern owner looking out their windows, moved by the girl's compassionate act.
Two weeks one day. Elisheva had settled into a sort of habit in her search for the whereabouts of where her brother and father could've been taken. During a cloudy day that was bound to rain, Elisheva had somehow tied several branches together to create a little roof. This kept out the water and allowed her to rest without risking a cold.
She continued to keep a low profile in town, only venturing out when necessary to purchase supplies or run errands for Oskar. Despite her best efforts to blend in, however, she couldn't help but feel like she was being watched.
Unbeknownst to her, several of the town's residents had taken notice of her comings and goings. Ferinia, the flower shop owner, was one of them. She had heard rumors of Elisheva's involvement in the festival scuffle with Slarb, and she couldn't help but be curious about the young woman. One thing's for sure, the girl had a kind side under her withdrawn disposition.
However the humans weren't the only ones who observed Elisheva's visits to town. Once while she was leaving for her tree shelter, Elisheva made the mistake of taking a glance at the jail stoop.
There were some Fangs, who begun sniffing the air inquisitively (again) as she was walking by. With them, Commander Gnorm was leaning back in his chair, sharpening a dagger, following her lazily with his eyes.
She didn't like passing them but usually avoiding them was next to impossible. An involuntary shudder ran down her spine as their cruel eyes bored into her, a reminder that she was an outsider in this world in more ways than one.
The Fangs watched her with malicious curiosity, and Elisheva hurried past, wanting nothing more than to escape their threatening gaze and return to the relative safety of her shelter. Being watched made her feel exposed and vulnerable, a rabbit fleeing from the sight of prowling wolves.
In the meantime, the Igiby children had been stuck inside their cottage home for two entire weeks, Podo already noticed they were getting restless from being cooped up inside.
So he decided that the following day, he'd go into town and let his grandchildren play with the other youngsters in the fields for a game of zibzy, it was far enough outside the town that no one will trouble them.
A crow had arrived with good news for the Fangs so that same morning the Fangs have gathered for a 'pep talk' of sorts.
"Who are you?" The one in red, Brak, demanded.
"WE ARE FANGS!" The Fangs all yelled.
"Fangs from where?"
"FANGS FROM DANG!"
"And whom do you serve?"
"THE MIGHTY GNAG, THE NAMELESS ONE WHO HAS NO NAME!"
"Awright, shut your gobs!" Commander Gnorm sneered, walking down the barrack porch. "Pitiful lot you are, you call yourself Fangs?"
"FANGS FROM DANG!"
"Shut your gobs!" Gnorm snapped. "Fangs are fearsome. Loathsome. You are...not." He said the last part rather sulkily. "I might even have to move up your refanging."
Vop chortled. "Might have to make it two refangings for ol' Slarb."
The other Fangs guffawed. Slarb glowered at him.
Gnorm walked over to the very same Fang who'd attacked Leeli and nearly bit Elisheva. "Ah yes, Slarb. Humiliated by a ragged streetmouse, the Igiby piglets and their mutt!"
"Those runts never thrashed me!" Slarb protested. "Rock conked my skull from above. Probably that Florid sword!"
Nearly all the other Fangs gasped nervously. They couldn't begin to imagine what kind of trouble one vigilante cause.
Commander Gnorm's eyes narrowed with sarcasm. "Come all the way from Dugtown just to conk your noggin, did he? Ha!"
His scoff made all the other Fangs laugh again. Then Commander Gnorm addressed them, "Well, we just got orders to be ready to march. And marching usually ends up in fighting, and fighting is what gets a Fang promoted! If we impress General Khrak, our next assignment might just be in Torrborro, and that place is swimming in maggotloaf!"
His instructions the other Fangs excited at the prospect.
"Shut your gobs!" Gnorm ordered. "Go prepare your gear, sharpen your spears and kiss your ugly mamas goodbye."
That last part got another snicker from the Fangs.
Slarb hissed. "What's so funny?!"
Brak replied, "Fangs aint got no mamas."
"I said: dismissed!" Commander Gnorm growled.
The Fangs began to spread out at leisure. Slarb intended to do the same, only to be stopped by Gnorm.
"Not you. You're being re-assigned." Gnorm said, holding a rolled up scroll. "The Black carriage rolls into Glipwood tonight. I'm putting you on carriage duty!" Then he shoved the scroll into a chagrined Slarb's claws.
From behind a building, Ferinia the flower shop owner, watched and listened carefully.
Almost an hour later, Podo had dropped off his grandchildren to play with the other denizen young folk while he went into town for a specialty. But it was just a cover so that he can get news from the outside world. This time, he visited Ferinia's flower shop.
"So you think something's brewing with the Fangs?
"Seems to be," Ferinia replied. "Heard your grandkids and a teenaged filly got into a tussle with one during the festival?"
"Oh, maybe a little scuffle, but they got clear."
"Well you should know that Gnorm's got your family marked for protection thanks to Nia's tasty maggotloaf."
"Aye, my Nia she's a clever girl." Podo winked.
Nia lgiby's bargain with Commander Gnorm to prepare him a maggotloaf weekly. Not only had it rescued her children from the town jail and the Black Carriage, but it had bought them a degree of immunity from the Fangs, who were too lazy to cook for themselves and who valued such meals nearly as much as gold and jewelry and murder.
"Oh, and that wily Fang…."
But the door opened and a woman walked in, Ferinia directed the customer to the particular plants she was looking for. While the customer inspected the needed plants, Ferinia addressed Podo again.
"That Fang, Slarb, who messed with your grands and the tenderfoot… Gnorm gave him a dust up and put him on Black carriage duty." The flower shop owner answered.
"Aye, well that keep him away to Fort Lamendron until then."
"Mmhmm, for a bit anyways."
"Which reminds me, what do you know about her – that young wanderer?" Podo asked about Elisheva. From what he heard from Nia and his grandkids, he knew the young woman came to the children's defense and recklessly stroked a sea dragon.
He couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about the young woman, and he wondered what her true motives were.
"Not much." Ferinia shrugged. "She don't act like she's from Dugtown or anywhere in Skree. The girl sure talks strange. Does a lot of weird stuff too, like the way she don't eat shellfish, sings songs in a different language or how she shows up every day except for only one day of the weekend... she stays out of sight."
They thought she was just visiting for Dragon day, but the girl remained nearby the town, always visiting Books and Crannies, she'd appeared to have made fast friends with Oskar Reteep and seemed to be running errands for him. She's been researching maps and locations, trying to find something.
Podo raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure what to make of Elisheva's behavior, but he knew that she was different from most of the other people he had met in Skree.
"Well, better hope she's not getting into any trouble," he said, trying to make sense of it all. She seemed like a nice enough girl, but there's something about her that seems off.
Ferinia nodded, looking serious. "From what I've heard, she's a brave girl. Rough around the edges but sweet, she's on a mission of some sort, whatever it is she's after, I hope she finds it soon."
Podo couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as well. He knew that Elisheva was on a dangerous path, and he worried that she would get caught up in something that she couldn't handle.
"We'll just have to keep an eye on her until then," he said.
They almost didn't know what to make of the young woman with multiple braids intertwined with curls or waves. Podo knew that Elisheva was driven and determined, but he also sensed a sadness and a loneliness in her that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
As he left Ferinia's shop and headed back towards Oskar's, Podo couldn't help but wonder what Elisheva's true motives were. He just couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye.
Whatever the case, he knew that he needed to stay focused on his own mission - protecting his family.
That next day, Elisheva continued her research, softly humming a familiar melody.
It's true, although the Bennets were musically inclined in some ways -Samuel once joked it ran in the family- they each had their skills and talents, making them seem like a family of jack of all trades. Elisheva and Zev's late mother, Rivka, had been a real estate agent with a knack for baking. Samuel had an eye for detail and during strategic board games he likes to surprise his family every now and then. Zev loved camping and picked up on a few things from those nature and world travel documentaries he likes to watch.
Elisheva was a skilled in athletics, something she had intended to make use of. She was a good singer however, she's a tad self-conscious until she feels more comfortable among her friends or loved ones. But one of the greatest talent that she possessed was not one that she had a chance to exhibit in school or social events very often. It was her ability to tell stories and to make everything she talked about seem like the most wonderful event, whether it was wonderful fiction or not. Most especially regarding the stories of the Bennet family faith, seeing as they were Messianic Jews. She could fascinate others with stories, and there was nothing she loved more than telling them. Even though her family knew the stories behind the religious holidays, the Bennets always had begun the tradition of having Elisheva tell the particular story, and listen with rapt attention. When Elisheva sat or stood in the midst of a circle of listeners and began to invent wonderful tales, her hazel green eyes grew bigger, her cheeks grew flushed, and, without knowing that she was doing it, she began to act. She made what she told lovely or alarming by the raising or dropping of her voice, by the expressiveness of her body, and by the dramatic movement of her hands. She forgot that she was talking, but rather lived among wondrous beings or joined the greatest prophets and judges whose tale she was narrating.
Elisheva had just finished browsing through a book, when she remembered a song her mother used to sing to her when she was a child. She hummed a few bars to herself, then started singing softly under her breath.
"Mmmm…mmmm. Ah-ah-ah…Ah-ah-ahh…"
She didn't notice that Sarah Cobbler – a bright eyed younger girl who could've been of African American descent, had stepped out from the back room and was standing behind her, listening intently. Sarah was Janner Igiby's crush, she noticed Elisheva around town and or the bookshop, and admired the older girl's quiet strength and hidden compassionate side that was demonstrated by giving the local recluse her pastries.
As Elisheva continued to sing, Sarah couldn't help but smile. Elisheva had a beautiful voice, full of warmth and emotion. She listened for a few moments longer, then stepped forward and cleared her throat.
"You sing beautifully." Sarah Cobbler complimented.
Elisheva shoved a book into a random shelf, flustered. "No, I- I was just- I wasn't, uh-"
"What was the name of the song?"
"Oh, um, it's just a song my mother used to sing to me," Elisheva said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's called 'Part of Your World', from a movie – erm, a child's story called 'The Little Mermaid'."
Sarah smiled and nodded. "I've never heard it before, but you sing it so well. Have you ever considered singing in public?"
Elisheva shook her head. "No, I'm not really... I mean, I'm not that good. And besides, I get really self-conscious when people are watching me."
However, when Elisheva sang the melody under her breath, she didn't notice the nor did she hear the slight creak of the bookshelf behind her. For Sarah wasn't the only one who'd heard Elisheva. Zouzab had been lurking in the shadows, listening intently to the newcomer's singing, but he made sure to move quietly so as not to alert her nor Sarah to his presence.
As Elisheva finished her song, Zouzab allowed himself an impish smile before slipping away, unnoticed. He had always been drawn to the pretty wanderer, and her gentle singing only made her more alluring in his eyes. Perhaps he could use this information to his advantage in the future...
Sarah placed a gentle hand on Elisheva's shoulder. "I understand. But you shouldn't let your fear hold you back from doing something you enjoy. You have a gift, Elisheva. You should share it with the world."
Elisheva looked up at Sarah, her hazel green eyes wide with surprise. She had never thought of her singing as a gift before. To her, it was just something nice she did when she was alone or with her family. But as she thought about it, she figured that the younger girl. Singing was a part of who she was, a way of expressing herself and connecting with others. And maybe, just maybe, she could find the courage to share that part of herself with others.
"Thanks, Sarah," Elisheva said softly. "You're right. Maybe once I find a little more confidence I will try singing in public someday."
Sarah smiled warmly. "I think you should. I know I would love to hear you sing again."
And with that, Sarah made her purchase, leaving Elisheva to wonder. For the moment, she had some a couple questions of her own. Speaking of singing, that haunting song Leeli had sung to the sea dragons. There were a couple words and name that urged her to look them up.
She'd asked Oskar if he could look up the word Holorè for her. Something that mildly surprises the bookshop owner. He responds: Holorè is an ancient word with several meanings. Its most common definition is "the feeling of forgetting to do something without knowing what that thing is. The word holore is also used to describe the scent of burned cookies, and is often applied to any potentially good thing that has turned unexpectedly sour.
The ancient meaning of the word, which is how it is likely being used in the song, refers to the stones laid deep within the earth by the Maker at the creation of Aerwiar. The stones, according to The Legends of Aerwiar, are imbued with power to keep the world alive and growing, functioning much the same, it is assumed, as Water from the First Well.
Elisheva listened intently as Oskar explained the different meanings of the word Holorè. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the ancient meaning of the word, and the idea of stones imbued with the power to keep the world alive and growing.
"That's amazing," she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Do you have any books that go into more detail about these stones and their role in the creation of Aerwiar?"
Oskar nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed I do. There are many books and legends that describe the ancient stones and their significance in the history of Aerwiar. If you're interested, I could recommend a few titles for you to peruse."
Elisheva felt a sense of excitement at the prospect of delving deeper into the mysteries of this strange new world. She knew that there was much she still didn't understand, but she was determined to learn as much as she could and uncover the secrets that lay hidden beneath the surface.
"Yes, please," she said eagerly. "I would love to learn more about the ancient stones and their connection to the creation of Aerwiar. Thank you for your help, Oskar."
About an hour or so later, Janner goes to work at Mr. Reteep's shop, bringing Tink with him. Elisheva noticed how Tink held up a fruit and tossed it upwards – quick as a fox, Zouzab dashed over to catch the fruit and eat it. Tink waved at Elisheva then left chasing after Zouzab, who zipped around the shelves like a squirrel.
Good, at least Tink'll keep the ridgerunner out of her face for the day.
She went to help Oskar unload some crates with Janner. The boy expressed both to the bookshop owner and to the teenager about he wishes to travel the lands, Oskar then reminds the boy not to forget about the glow of home.
Janner then found an interesting book. "Anniera…"
Oskar suddenly squeaked in alarm and hurried over. "Oh, that's nothing!" He quickly took the book out of a bewildered Janner's hands into his coat as though it was a controversial magazine. "Why don't I finish up here and I'll meet you at the front? Run along!"
Elisheva was a little confused. What was that all about? Then she shrugged. Must be a banned book, she'll ask about it later.
Tink rushed back to Elisheva, his eyes bright with excitement. "Hey, Elisheva, did you see that? I threw a fruit and Zouzab caught it like a hawk!"
Elisheva smiled, happy to see Tink enjoying himself. "That's great, Tink. I'm glad you two are getting along."
Tink looked at her curiously. "But you don't like Zouzab very much, do you?"
Elisheva sighed, knowing that she can't keep her feelings a secret from Tink forever. "No, Tink, I don't. It's nothing personal, it's just that every time I'm near him, it feels like nails down a blackboard."
Tink's blue eyes widened in surprise. "Really? Why?"
Elisheva shrugs. "I don't know, Tink. There's just something about him that makes me uneasy."
Tink tried to lighten the mood with a joke. "Hey, he likes it when you come around, Elisheva. Maybe he's got a thing for you."
Janner gave his brother a weird look as if asking with his facial expression: "Really?!"
Elisheva scrunched her lips sideways in disrelish. "Don't even joke."
Just then, Zouzab appeared, having overheard their conversation. "A thing for me, you say?" he says, his voice dripping with obsequiousness. "Well, I must say, I do appreciate a kind word from a lovely lady such as yourself, dear Elisheva."
Elisheva rolled her eyes, knowing that Zouzab is just trying to get a rise out of her. "Save it, Zouzab," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm not interested."
Tink looked on in amusement, enjoying the banter between them. But Janner shakes his head in disbelief.
Zouzab only chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, I know you're not interested, my dear. But a Ridgerunner can dream, can't he?" With that, he scurried off, leaving Elisheva feeling even more uneasy than before.
Janner huffed a little, wondering how anyone could find Zouzab charming. "There's something strange about him," he says, shuddering.
Elisheva nods in agreement. "Tell me about it," she says, glad to have someone else who understands her unease around the Ridgerunner.
Zouzab especially displays his agility when demonstrating to Janner and Tink how he catches mice in the library. Unlike most girls and women, Elisheva doesn't mind the mice, she always sets the little rodents free outside the shop.
As she hoped, Tink was busy trying to catch up with Zouzab, the two clearly liked to race around the aisles. The boy was probably delighted with how fast the ridgerunner moved.
However as the Igiby boys were leaving they were a little…jumpy. Like they were hiding something. She wonders what could be bothering them, but decides not to pry. After all, it's not her place to get involved in their family affairs.
Little did she know, Tink had just uncovered a mysterious map in a secret compartment.
Miles away that night, someone has arrived to Torroborro. Someone who had a group of three Fangs at each side of the visitor like bodyguards. A woman in a black cloak.
Upon arriving to Palace Torr, all the Fangs on duty stood at attention. There was a single Fang on the throne at the end, one with dark green scales, a few scars and a long red cape. He was General Khrak, one of Gnag's oldest servants the most vicious Fang of the city.
When the woman in black arrived, he got up at once, attempted to polish his claws, then bowed respectfully to her. The woman might've been pretty, but there was an icy cold to her pale eyes. She was a stone keeper. "Rise my child." She said to the general. Then she addressed the other Fangs. "Would you sing the song of stones?"
"We wish for power to be our own!"
"Then let it bend through shape and form." The woman moved her hands in a slow, swaying manner like a serpent.
"And make us fierce in fire and storm!"
The woman took a seat on the throne. "The Nameless one no longer believes the jewels are in Skree. He means to march west, beyond the edges of the map."
"Why does the mighty one continue to seek these jewels?"
"Would you question the wisdom of Gnag the Nameless, General?"
Khrak was little cowed.
"When we sacked Anniera, many writings of Wingfeather were found. He spoke of the Jewels Ancient power. Power that makes many things possible with more… pliable souls."
"Ah, which is why you ordered us to seize the brats of Dugtown?" Khrak mentioned.
"Yes, my child. But it is not enough, which is why the carriage must now travel nightly."
"And what of the outsiders?"
"The elder is to be taken to Dang at once, keep the boy under observation but the Nameless one has ordered that none of them be harmed. To find the key, we must get her to come where we want her."
"For Gnag!" General Khrak declared.
The other Fangs began chanting Gnag, this brought a sinister smile to the woman's face.
To be continued…
Author's note: There's where the mystery begins. I know it started slowing but I can't just barrel in there without the oc meeting characters fast paced – and this is an isekai fanfiction, a few things are bound to be somewhat different. The clues are there, Elisheva's still trying to figure out where they might have taken her father and brother.
