Volume 01 - Chapter 3: Three's a Curse (Part 03)

Dilapidated and decaying is the house we find on the southwest edge of Gamaloth. Closer to collapse than Marigold’s and twice as unsettling in the dark, the girls soon position themselves behind my back. The orange glow of candlelight from within accompanied by children’s laughing and shouting suggests we’re at the right place.

“Servant boy. Go knock on the door.” Mizuka pushes me toward it.

“Why me? They might mistake me for a bandit.”

“Not likely. Even a child can tell how weak you are.”

“Weak? I’d say I’m pretty strong.” I’ve moved countless sand piles from one spot on the farm to another and back.

“You can say so all you like, but that won’t make your muscles any bigger. Go on. Or do you expect one of us frail girls to take your place?” She wraps her arms around herself, mock shivering.

Swallowing a sigh, I inch toward the door and give it a halfhearted knock. All sound dies. A long minute passes before the door creaks halfway open to reveal the dirt-caked face of a young boy.

“W-Who are you? What do you want? Dad’s not home,” he mumbles, eyes bouncing.

“Don’t tell him that, idiot!” Resounds a girl’s voice.

“We’re, um, not dangerous. See?” I slide to reveal Barmaid whose smile—and uniform—stuns the boy into drooling silence.

Mizuka groans. “Move.” She pushes the door open to reveal five other children peeking from behind furniture. “We’re looking for someone who has something of ours.” She describes the thief. “Sound familiar?”

The boy wipes his mouth and shakes his head. “That could be anyone. There are plenty of short people with bad clothes in this town. You’re just picking on us because we’re poor. Why are we always getting blamed for—” The light of recognition flashes in his amber eyes. “…Did you say strawberry blond?”

A violent crack charges the air. Each child whips around to face the back door.

“Well, that was easy,” I mutter.

“Shut up and run!” Mizuka circles the building, and we follow, leaving the children in a clamor.

The faint outline of a hooded figure tears through fields of dry grass heading west out of Gamaloth. He’s fast, but his short legs keep him from leaving us in the dust. Even so, we struggle to maintain our pursuit. Barmaid falls to her knees and insists we leave her behind.

Our panting mixes with the buzzing of crickets as we enter vast fields not yet sown with seed. Both we and the thief slow as the uneven terrain threatens to launch us onto our faces. A fate our suspect suffers seconds before my legs turn to mush.

“Grab him!” Mizuka dashes behind him as I pin him by the shoulders.

He kicks my stomach until I bind his legs with my own. As he struggles, his hood slides off to reveal not his face, but hers—the charming, freckled face of a teenage girl illuminated by stark moonlight. Her fair hair mixed with a drop of baby pink breaks free from its lengthy braid, blanketing her chest.

“Let go of me!” She spits in my face, but I simply wipe it on my shoulder. Being the eldest of eight means I’ve suffered such slights countless times.

“Return the book and we will,” demands Mizuka.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She spits at Mizuka, who does not take the gesture as congenially.

“Watch it, brat! And don’t bother lying. If you’re going to play the thief, at least change out of the clothes in which you committed the crime.”

“Shut up! This is all I have.”

“And if you don’t hand over the book, you’ll not have even those as we strip you of them.” Again, to any bystanders, Mizuka appears a ruthless villain.

“I would if this brute would unhand me.” She bares sharp incisors. “Is it really so thrilling to push down a little girl?”

I recoil, relaxing my grip. “T-That’s not what I was—” A swift uppercut to my chin reveals her ploy.

“Leo, you—!” Mizuka curses me as she leaps at the escaping girl.

Our chase begins anew. Yet it lasts but a moment. Upon reaching the opposite end of the field, the girl collapses to her rear, heaving. We flank her on either side.

“Realize there’s nowhere to run?” I ask. There’s little but farmland in this direction until you hit the border into Kaalima.

“More like that you’ll never stop chasing me. What do you want?” Her nasally, girlish voice doesn’t match her rough way of speaking.

“Like you don’t know.” Mizuka sends her a death glare.

Snorting, she sticks a hand in her mantle and reveals the prize: a book bound in olive drab with fraying, yellowed pages bearing neither title nor author. “It’s just an old book. Why do you want it so bad?”

“Because the owner would like it returned.”

“And you care about the old bag…why? You’re obviously not from Gamaloth wearing that weird outfit.”

“Weird?” Mizuka looks herself over. “A-Anyway, if you must know—not only do we wish to help her, but I have need of the information within that book.”

Her eyes widen, and she quickly looks left. “And? I don’t care about either. Leave me alone.”

“Have you no shame? To rob and assault an old woman and feel no remorse? What is wrong with the youth nowadays?”

“Quit talking like an old hag. I need the book just as much as anyone else.”

“O-Old hag?!” Mizuka lurches at her with hands forming claws.

“Stop reacting to everything she says, Mizuka. She’s upsetting you on purpose.” I sit across from her and reveal empty hands. “Mind telling me why you need the book?”

“Go find someone else to prey on. I’d recommend the shrieking harpy you’ve dragged along, but she’s clearly too old for a creep like you.”

The pain from her insult is diminished by Mizuka receiving two more to my one; an amusing comeuppance for the abuse I’ve suffered so far.

“You know, I have a little sister just like you—four years younger. A brat, but smart. Too smart for her own good. But you’re not a little sister, are you? You’re the oldest, like me, and are responsible for your siblings. So, whatever led you to stealing the book must be for your family’s sake and not your own. You’re smart enough to know it’s only a matter of time before you’re found out when you rob someone in a small village. Meaning, you’re desperate. But for what?”

She relaxes somewhat but maintains a tight grip on the book. “Don’t act like you know me. You don’t even know my name.”

“Then we’d better introduce ourselves. I’m Leo. The angry one is Mizuka.” For this, a fistful of dirt is launched toward my face.

“…Millie.” She hides her face with her oversized hood.

“Now we know each other. Unfortunately, as it stands, we’re enemies. If you’d tell us why you need that book, maybe we could reach a compromise.”

“Why else? Coin. You saw our house. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors. We’re broke. I stole it so I could sell it.”

“Thanks, Millie. But,” I point at the book, “that thing’s worthless.” I explain how it’s an heirloom without compare.

Not an ounce of surprise shakes her calculating expression. “As if I didn’t already know. Just because no one from this backwater province knows what it is doesn’t mean someone from the capital doesn’t. It’s sure to fetch a high price from the right buyer.”

“And you intend to ferry it all the way there?” Asks Mizuka, sitting beside me, knees pulled to her chest.

“How else would I sell it?”

“If you’re so desperate for coin, it’d have been better to steal the jewelry and sell it fast. Your poor siblings are apt to starve by the time you move that book.”

“Leave them out of this, hag.”

In a flash, Mizuka lunges at Millie. Tumbling, they kick up dust while rolling in the dirt. Both have a hold on the book, slapping each other with their free hands. I leap to my feet, trying and failing to find an opportunity to pull them apart.

“What’s going on?!” A familiar, sugary voice echoes from behind me.

“Barmaid?” Wiping an ocean of sweat from her forehead, she joins me as I watch the two wildcats’ futile match. “Finally decide to join us?”

“T-This is no time for jokes, Leo. We have to stop them.”

“I’d rather face a hydra. Just give them a second. At least one is sure to run out of energy.”

I detail how we came to the current predicament while Barmaid wrings her hands. After a long minute, Millie curls into a ball with the book pressed hard against her chest.

“Stop!” She cries, tears staining her muddied cheeks. “Please. I need this book. I need it more than anything!”

Mizuka does as asked and stands with a snort, patting off her clothes. “And out comes some of the truth. As I’m sure you know, the book is genuinely worthless. Not even scholars from the capital knew what it was. Thus, I surmise you have no need of the book itself, but its contents. Correct?” She extends a hand to Millie.

Swatting it, she stands, maintaining her distance, seeking a path around us and back to Gamaloth. Yet her search soon ends as her frenzied eyes land on Barmaid. “W-Who is this? Where’d you come from?”

“Our much slower companion,” says Mizuka. “Pay her no mind.”

Yet Millie does the opposite, edging closer as she examines Barmaid from head to toe.

“I know you.” Millie runs up to Barmaid. Despite the age difference, they’re the same height. “Do you…remember me?”

Barmaid returns her inquisitive stare and gives a start. “The girl from behind the tavern! Of course I remember you. Millie, right? I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you? And your siblings—how are they? Getting enough to eat?” Barmaid’s barrage of questions leaves Millie blubbering as she fails to interject.

“Care to explain?” Asks Mizuka, arms folded.

“Sure.” Barmaid nods as she takes Millie’s hand.

Given the chaotic nature of Sparrow’s End, every employee plays every role. Being a waitress does not exempt you from taking out garbage. A task Barmaid willingly accepts as it means catching a breath of fresh air. Well, disregarding the reek of leftover, rotting food. But not all is rotten. The majority is untouched but must be disposed of, as food once served cannot be served again for sanitary reasons. A lucky break for Millie who one day happened to discover this treasure trove of free meals in the waste bins behind the tavern.

All who saw Millie poking through the bins would tell her to scram, a broom-turned-blade in hand. All but Barmaid. She went so far as to save the freshest meals for Millie, handing them to her directly or setting them out of sight for her to collect. The two spoke little but are somewhat acquainted; this odd interchange went on for well over a year. Only recently has Millie stopped this daily routine.

“I was worried something had happened to you. I’m so happy to see you’re well.” Barmaid hugs her. A blessing Millie in which Millie indulges until pushing her away in a hurry.

“I’m not well. I haven’t been in months. And while I’m grateful for all your help, I can’t trust you now that you’re with these two.” She points a shaking finger at me and Mizuka. “Just let me go already. I don’t have time for this!”

“Not until you’ve answered my question,” says Mizuka. “Do you or don’t you have need of what’s within that book?”

Millie’s glare bounces between each of us before landing on Barmaid who gives her a warm smile.

“…So what if I do?”

“Then we can help each other. We want what’s inside just as much as you.”

“Well, I need it first. Maybe I’ll feel like letting you read it after I’m done.”

“It doesn’t belong to you, girl. We’ll have you return it to its owner, and she can decide whether or not to let you read it.”

“Forget it. I won’t give it up for anything. You’ll have to kill me first.”

“W-We won’t do that,” says Barmaid. “Millie. I see you’re desperate. You probably need the book much more than we do. Maybe…maybe we can help. Could you tell us why you need it so badly? The real reason?”

She sighs, stuffs the book back into her coat. After kicking the ground several times, she expels an even louder sigh. “…A curse.”

One day last summer, Millie’s already down-on-their-luck family experienced another tragedy. Sickle in hand and sweat drenching his patchwork overalls, Millie’s father was hard at work tilling his assigned corn fields.

Once belonging to him, he sold the majority of his family’s land off to an agricultural conglomerate operating in Dragonwall for a small fortune. Yet all of it was wasted on gambling and drink after the desertion of his wife, who ran off with the very same man who bought the farmland.

An employee rather than owner, Millie’s father is expected to produce a certain amount of product each harvest. Should he fail, he receives a reduced salary based on what was produced—an already dismal amount of coin, given his lack of diligence, reduced to near nothing with the tragedy that befell him.

Without warning, he fell on his face. Soon discovered by Millie and her siblings, they dragged his lumbering body home and into bed. Upon his right arm was a spiraling mark the color of faded midnight, as if an invisible snake bound it tight. Yet this bizarre incident was soon forgotten. He was back on the fields the next day as spry as before. However, the mark remained and would soon prove more than a passing threat.

A month later, he collapsed a second time. The mark spread to his chest, scarlet claw marks gleaming inside the spirals. Yet he persisted in his duties. The final harvest before winter was nigh, and missing it would mean no coin until spring.

But whatever disease was eating away at him had other plans. Constant fatigue, skin brittle as paper, buckets of phlegm expelled by hourly coughing fits. Such were a handful of his many sickening symptoms once the snakes coiled around every inch of his body.

Harvesting but half of what he’d sown, the rest went to waste as those who he was supposed to provide for took on the roles of caretakers. Forced to subsist on a mere fraction of their father’s expected coin, Millie’s family barely survived the winter. Begging for help from their fellow denizens of Gamaloth was too shameful for Millie to bear, and they’d likely have refused anyway, considering her family’s poor reputation. Now with their father sicker than ever, they’ve little coin left and no means of making more. Until now.

Once her father was bedridden, Millie spent what little time she could spare trying to figure out what happened to her father. She consulted everyone in Gamaloth and anyone passing through it. Doctors, scholars, and even priests of Teraia, a new religious sect that worships nature and preaches a return to living amongst it instead of in man-made cities, thought mad by most. Not one of them nor any book she struggled to read knew of the strange disease ravaging her father. All except one.

Whilst returning home from the general store last night, a man clad in dark robes called out to her. Her first impulse was to run upon seeing his face obscured by a mouthless mask with narrow slits for eyes, a detail making Mizuka lean in close. But after a long day of errands, she had no energy to do so and was glad she didn’t. The man claimed he’d overheard her discussing her dilemma with another and knew exactly what was wrong with her father.

It was simple—he’d been cursed. Some evil mage cast a curse on him that would eventually kill him. Millie laughed at first, magic being nothing more than a fairy tale, but stopped as the man described the curse in far greater detail than what she’d ever told anyone else. Not only did he know what it was, he knew how to remove it as well. Or at least where to find the information on how.

A book belonging to an old woman on the edge of town. One the man desired but heard she’d not sell it for any amount of coin. So, he offered Millie a deal. Were she to steal the book, he’d not only help lift her father’s curse but pay her for the book as well.

“An offer you couldn’t refuse, huh?” I mumble, her story turning my stomach. What would happen to my family were my father to suffer a similar fate without me being there to help? Millie fills the role of eldest child far better than I…

“And I intend to make good on it too. I wasn’t lying about needing coin, and this book is how I’ll get it.”

Mizuka frowns, pacing. “Say…we help you. I know much about curses, and they’re not so simple to break as following whatever ritual may be detailed in the book. Could we see your father?”

Millie recoils. “Forget it. I said I’d let you see the book after I was done. Haven’t you poked your fat noses far enough into my business?”

“F-Fat?” Mizuka traces a finger along her nose and quickly shakes her head. “You poked yours into ours the second you stole the book. I won’t let you out of my sight until I’ve read it, so you might as well let us tag along.”

Clicking her tongue, Millie looks above to the sea of stars, considering. Barmaid approaches, taking both of Millie’s hands into hers.

“Won’t you let us help you? Let me help you? Like I have before? I can’t bear to see you suffering like this, Millie.”

Tears twinkle in the corners of her amber eyes. “…You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

“Not a chance.” Mizuka grins in preemptive victory.

“Then let’s head back before I freeze to death,” she mutters, pushing past us.

Behind her scowl resides a trickle of delight. We may well be the first to take a genuine interest in her plight. Suffering in silence is the eldest’s duty but is never pleasant. How pathetic I am. Envious of a little girl’s inner strength. Still. I may have forsaken my family, but perhaps I can be of some use in pulling hers out of despair.