Mistress of the Void
Digitalis only intended to leave her town for exactly one hour. Every soft step was calculated. Fifteen minutes to stroll down the dusty worn path leading to Hush River, a half hour to draw water into her wooden bucket, watching the sky transition from dusty purple to bright blue, and the rest to saunter back. That had been the plan. Simple enough. But as she cantered back to Pottestowne, she was astonished to find every resident, down to the very last collared pet, had vanished. Now, Digitalis had seen many strange occurrences in her long life and yet Pottestowne gutted from the usual hustle of too many beings belted into one valley, trumped anything that came before.
It is imperative here to understand that Digitalis was a Lived Being. Whoever decided to create her species was surely confused on what the creatures were to come out as. Lived Beings possessed the height and appearance of mankind. Powerless and dull, their only appealing feature was the slight, pointed tip of their ears. Almost like an elf's, but not really. What set Lived Beings apart from their human brethren was exactly this; they lived for a long time. A long, long time. That's it. Our Digitalis reached her one hundred and ninth birthday and was only just considered to be a young adult in her society.
"Hello!" Digitalis called out, knowing full well that no one would answer. Her bucket was dropped long ago on the gravel road sprouting with dandelion weeds and drowned around twenty-two ants. "If this is some sort of new Holiday, and you've all kept it from me, then, then...well, I just don't fancy it at all." She passed empty stalls. Pens fallen on record books as if the writer was in the middle of scribbling insulting numbers. Baskets littering the usual routes taken by the very women they belonged to, articles scattered haphazardly. Knitting needles, naughty novels, peppermints. Digitalis peered into stores finding iron ovens still heaving smoke from burnt strawberry pastries and butter scones. Clothes half pulled from hooks. Games of poker three quarters through where someone was obviously cheating.
"This isn't right at all," Digitalis told the air void of gossip, hard laughter, and humming tunes. Mrs. Dawdle should have been berating her for letting the water bucket slip from buttery fingers. Three of the sixty children living in Pottestowne would have been present at the exact time of Digitalis's scolding, tittering with red, joyful glee. Precious gifts children were, Digitalis would have later in the day boxed their ears until they, too, were ruby red. Ironhand, of course the blacksmith, never particularly liked conflict, and the unusually large man would somehow squeeze in between Mrs. Dawdle and Digitalis, smoothing their ruffled feathers. The scene that never played out ached with loss deep down to Digitalis's toes.
"Right, well, first things first."
She hiked up her cotton breeches and straightened her white blouse, scouting out her own tiny household built in between two solid oak trees. She passed the Red Sky Tavern, a scrunched up place, which seemed to pack in more patrons than one would expect. Her best friends' houses combined as shops sat smack next to the eldest inhabitants of the valley, Clive and Dunkle. Those two never exactly spoke of their ages directly, but one could just tell by the speck of distance caught in their eyes. That, and the wrinkles. Clive and Dunkle did so enjoy Digitalis's weaving. Who would by her extravagant undergarments in bulk, now?
Swaths of deep black hair dripped onto Digitalis's face and she puffed at the pieces blocking her view, irritated at its messy disorder. "Shoo!" She barked at her hair, stomping the final few paces to her plain front door. She was caught in shadow, the four paned windows of her yellow brick cottage, darkened. Thick, healthy vines wrapped themselves around her home, blooming fierce blue flowers. Digitalis grabbed the white gold handle of the front door. As she feared, there was no greeting when the hinges creaked open. No soft calico fur brushing her ankles and definitely no tinkle of a mew from her pet cat, Kali. Not from under the antique arm chair. Not from atop silky purple bedsheets. And certainly not from the brown kitchen table where a plate of honeysuckle bread still sat from the night before. The Lived Being felt an unrecognizable garbly groan rumble in her chest. Somehow, her missing friend made the entire ordeal final.
So it really was true. Every Lived Being and every pet of a Lived Being were currently missing in action. All except the farm animals left in their open stalls, just as perplexed as her. Digitalis's right green eye, slit also like her cat's, twitched. She rubbed her befreckled nose and loosed a throaty sigh. It was certain now, no matter how much she wanted to avoid it. Every Lived Being found themselves at a Crisis Point in their long lives, and it just so happened that Digitalis was at hers. She was only irritated that when she met her point face to face, that it had to be so terribly...momentous.
She liked Pottestowne. In fact, all the residents of Pottestowne loved their hiding space between two mountains crowned with ice lovingly named This and That. The valley blocked access from most of the worlds outside badness. Wars, famine, junk mail, all of which Pottestowne was swiftly tucked away. Of course, there were other Lived Beings spread out across the vastness of the earth. Those were the ones who were dealing with their own Crisis Point or the ones who merely gave up and sprouted miniature Pottestownes. Digitalis's own parents were lost to her when they were summoned to their joint Crisis Point and never came back. But the valley, the original valley, was generally agreed to be the crème de la crème.
Digitalis enjoyed the strawberry red trees sprinkled with jade green leaves. All of the berries grown in Lived Being soil were A-grade. Juniper, blueberry, blackberry, and so on and so forth, were produced nearly twice their original sizes. Everyone was generally happy with not a day going by where there was a citizen beaming from content. Days could be slept in. Nights were an adventure. Happiness lay upon them like a hazy drug. And yes, this meant that Lived Beings actually were, indeed, boring creatures.
Something crackled the rocks upon the road just east of Digitalis's cottage. She jumped having just been in the middle of searching for Kali, and she scrambled over to find a weapon. She was in the kitchen, biting her lip in frustration. The best she could do was a wooden spoon. Grasped in both hands and shaking, she hid behind the front door she forgot to shut. She yearned to swipe up the overly used "Welcome" mat. It was too late to cover her mistakes now. Whatever was coming was approaching fast. All the Lived Being could do was wait.
Trot. Trot. Trot.
Digitalis began to sweat. Great dollops of moisture oozed from her hairline and down her cheeks. Unfortunately, Digitalis always became sweaty when she was nervous. The customers who purchased her weavings were used to expecting the clothing damp, accustomed to poor Digitalis's habit. It had been a good fifty years since Digitalis sweated like this, however.
Trot. Trot. Trot.
Maybe she was overreacting. Perhaps this person was one of the rare merchants who now and then stumbled upon the inhabitants between the This and That mountains. Then again, whoever, whatever, was nonchalantly invading her Pottestowne could have been the culprit to depopulate it. She quickly imagined the best places to smack something with a spoon.
Trot, trot. Thump. A shadow covering the "Welcome" mat.
"Err, umm, yes. Excuse me. But I can see your spoon," called out the thing.
"No you can't" Digitalis insisted, pulling the utensil back to her bosom.
"Well I can't now," laughed the jovial, masculine response. "I didn't mean to frighten you. You see, I'm lost. I thought coming here to whatever town this is would help, but...there seems to be a lack of anyone to ask directions from."
"Yes, that would be because they are all busy being disappeared."
"I see."
Digitalis gulped.
"Could you help me, then?" He said this very slowly, as if just coming to some bright conclusion.
"If I open this door all the way, you promise not to take me, too?"
"Take? Of course not! I mean, I promise. I mean, I'm nice, I swear!" Genuine enough, right? Digitalis huffed a bit and relented. If all went wrong, she could always sprint away. She was the fastest runner aside from Long Legged Rix when it came to Race Day, after all.
Digitalis gently pushed the door open with her hand revealing, out of all manner of creatures, a centaur. He had tanned brown skin, a thick brown jacket, a brown handkerchief stuffed into a chest pocket, brown eyes, brown hair, and a brown pelt. Digitalis's eyes crossed, and she blinked to clear all of the brown out of them.
"If you say your name is Mr. Brown, I don't think I want to hear your story."
The centaur cracked a smile and attempted a bow, bending one of his strong front horse legs and spreading his arms. His elongated, fuzzy ears stood attention. The whole affect was akin to movements made by the daddy long legs she would watch crawling up her beflowered vines.
"Glue Pot at your service, ma'am."
"My name is Digitalis. No need for Ma'ams."
"Oh, well good. Digitalis." Glue Pot straightened. "Pardon my rudeness, but I have to know. Are you an elf?"
Digitalis bristled despite Glue Pot's pardon. Lived Beings were always confused with elves. With their pointed ears and long, very long lives, all creatures saw a Lived Being and would moon about them, hoping to receive an Elf's Favor. Not so likely. But Digitalis did hear of a Lived Being, Beatrice, letting a vampire believe that she was an elf. She let him perform many tasks for her; stealing love letters from her rival and transforming them into nasty notes, dropping his body across a small river so that she might cross on his floating body, singing in a terrible garble to make her own seem prettier. In the end, there was no Favor to be given to the poor vampire, and so the poor vampire drained Beatrice dry including skin and muscle.
"I'm not an elf." She punctuated her fury with a foot stomp. "I'm not anywhere near part of those silly creature's family. With their favors and tricks." She rubbed her arms. "And they have that weird, sparkly gray skin. As you can see, mine is the shade of caramel tea. Not sparkly. Not gray."
"Easy now. I was merely curious because of-"
"My ears? Oh no. I'm just a Lived Being. And anyway, you didn't catch me muttering about your name. Is it really Glue Pot? What a title for a centaur."
"Actually, my full name is Pot of Glue." His face was dead serious.
The two stared at each other, critically assessing every inch of the other being. Brown eyes noting that the non-elf reached only to his naval in height. A dainty freckled nose sniffing the air and finding it surprising that it did not contain the damp scent of horse fur, but with the aroma of lilies. Scruffy sideburns on one face, a creamy soft landscape on the other. Hooves as black as a moonless night, and red boots laced up to meet knees.
"Pot...of Glue," Digitalis ventured. "Because you're half...horse?"
"Hmn, you know, I never really thought of it that way." Glue Pot scratched his scruff thoughtfully, and then he shook his head vigorously. "As much as I enjoy this getting to know you session, I was hoping that you could lend me directions to a certain area. You see, I seem to be afflicted with the same, what would I call it, situation as yours." Digitalis's stomach squeezed.
"You mean, your village disappeared?"
"Not just my village, but the surrounding small port towns as well. All seven of them. Triton, Urchin, Anchor, Starfish, Sharkfin, Tidal, and Soggy Bottom." Glue Pot listed each port on his fingers, his brown eyes growing wider from the sheer amount of missing personages. "I left from an exportation trip late only to come back to, well, nothing at all. My brothers, sisters, and parents just poofed away."
"So, where exactly did you come from?"
"Horse-Shoe."
"And where do you need directions to?"
"Umm, the Mage Boarding School at the next country over, Apex."
Digitalis had to choke back a laugh of which would have lasted for hours if once started. Instead, she bit on her cheeks until she swallowed the giggles bubbling in her throat.
"You are going in the complete opposite direction, Mr. Glue Pot!" The centaur blushed a dark brown and he averted his gaze. He stomped his right fore hoof out of habit.
"Yes, well..."
"AH! Don't tell me, did you get lost going back to Horse-Shoe. Is that why you weren't there when your village disappeared?"
"D-does it matter?" His tail swung clockwise. "Do you know how to get to the Mage Boarding School or not?"
"Hmn, yes, I do. But, my dear Mr. Glue Pot, I think that I'll need to escort you. You're going to the school in order to dig for information, right?" Glue Pot nodded sheepishly. "Well, as you said, I'm in the same saddlebag. I suppose I better get started on this Crisis Point and get it out of the way." Digitalis avoided adding that she also did not believe Glue Pot would make it to the school on his own with how his particular sense of direction worked.
"Alright, I suppose having a not-elf as a companion wouldn't be too bad."
"Lived Being."
"Isn't that what I said? A not-elf."
Glue Pot trotted around outside while Digitalis scoured her home for supplies that would hopefully last her for a few weeks. Of course, she could have always walked next door and taken wares from her friends' empty stores, but she didn't quite feel comfortable enough to try. Somehow, even without the Lived Beings running their businesses, the tavern, stalls, and homes, she still felt like the essence of her friends were hovering around somewhere like spooky spirits. Clive and Dunkle would have great entertainment being ghosts. And Mrs. Dawdle? She would be a perfect poltergeist.
So that was it. No theft attempts on that day. Digitalis stuffed a rose leather backpack full with food, water, a reading book, and topped it off with her wooden spoon. Glue Pot was already fully packed, and so Digitalis crammed in enough for one. Before she left to lock up her home of fifty-odd years, she touched Kali's empty water bowl, reminding her of a kink in her plan.
"I don't know what to do with the farm animals," Digitalis sighed when she met with Glue Pot next to Red Sky Tavern. She always preferred reading books as opposed to drinking spiced apple cider with her friends at the bar, but she still felt lonely when the tavern stood solemnly in its silence. By this time all of the leftover lost articles were being blown around by a hefty wind. She kicked away a touchy ledger.
"Leave the animals to me."
Glue Pot cantered over to where the livestock gathered in one big group. Goats, pigs, chickens, wooly oxes, and horses; they stood expectantly with their attention on Glue Pot. It was a mass of coarse fur and stinky bodies. The centaur must had done something to make the animals behave as they did. "Alright animals, your caretakers are going to be gone for a while, and so you must go free and eat what you need for now." Amazingly, the animals nodded their heads as if they understood. Some grunted with too much eagerness. Others tittered excitedly. "But you must return when the not-elves come back." Piggy oinks, neighing, and all else agreed as the animal crowd dispersed all the way out to the corners of the surrounding Yellowsliver Forest.
"Wait, what?" Questioned Digitalis.
"They should be fine. When your not-elves return, just say a certain word to break my enchantment. The word to bring them back is...umm, just say 'BACK.'"
The animals, hearing the word to break their enchantment, turned from the forest to beeline towards Glue Pot. Digitalis covered her upturned lips.
"H-hey, no! Not now!" Glue Pot stammered out his spell one more time, and again, the animals left to sustain themselves.
"At least I know that spell was effective. Though, I wonder why the farm animals were spared when our pets were not." Digitalis drummed her fingers thoughtfully on her chin until she shrugged the thought off. "I suppose it doesn't matter now. Thank you for the enchantment."
"It was my pleasure."
And then finally, the two set off to find the Mage Boarding School, following Hush River into the forest.
That is until there was a minor hiccup in their plan.
