Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
If I were an alchemist, I could make my own god, perhaps. Isn’t that the ultimate goal of all alchemists? Isn’t that what they’re doing with the genetics of royal beasts? Looking for the big magic? The magic that might break through and live on. And they will be the ultimate creators.
The god-makers.
It’s what I should’ve been doing all these years but it’s too late for that now.
And anyway, I’ve had enough.
I’m done. Regardless of who is to blame for what I have lost and will never recover, I am done.
So I get up and start walking down the road towards the fog.
I will walk in and I will keep walking.
This is my future now.
Fog.
The shallows of the fog are in view when I hear someone calling in the woods.
I pause in front of the closed-up candle shop and look behind me, wondering if anyone else can hear it as well.
There are a few people on the streets. Mostly they are by the diner and the coffeeshop, which are both too far away to hear the shouting. So I turn back and look up the hill to my right where the woods are.
“Hellooooo!” someone is calling. “Is anyone heeeeeeere?”
Well. What is this all about? Did a human get lost in the woods? “Oh!” I exclaim this out loud. “Perhaps it is a townsperson who left to get supplies and then got lost on the way home!”
I gather up the skirts of my dress and head up the hill. My wood-block shoes are not very practical for hill climbing, but the shouting is getting louder and I don’t want to stop and take them off.
“Hellooooooo!” the person calls again. And I am quite sure they are human and not monster by the accent on the word.
“Hello!” I call back. “Are you lost?”
“Oh, my God!” a man’s voice calls. “Hello! I’m here!”
“Keep talking,” I say. “I’m coming to find you.” It’s only now that I realize that I should be insisting they call me queen, but I’m excited about this strange turn of events. Life here is so stagnated that a random townsperson returning is almost like an adventure.
Well, not a grand adventure, but at the very least, it’s a small escapade.
I’m still going into that fog. I think.
I’ll decide later.
Right now, I am on a mission to increase the population of Savage Falls by one.
As soon as this thought enters my head, I see them.
Not one. But two! Two townspeople returning! Imagine the news they will bring! And possibly good liquor!
I take a deep breath and let it out, steadying myself. I have to stop being so chatty. I have a reputation to uphold as the town queen and my demand to be called queen will be seen, from their perspective, as a sign that they have indeed made it home.
So I do not say any more.
The two men and I see each other at nearly the same moment, and although I try to hide it, there is a smile on my face. I do not recognize them, so they probably disappeared into the fog just after everything changed.
Also, are they… men? Or are they boys? They are not tall, and muscular, and burly, as is my experience with men. They are kind of skinny and puny.
“Oh, my God!” one yells, his hand over his mouth as his feet come to a full stop on the side of the mountain. He has caught sight of me.
Then his friend says, “What the fuck is that? Am I drunk? Am I seeing this?”
And I realize he’s talking about… me. Is he seeing me? What could that mean?
“Uh…” the first one says. He and I are staring at each other. “Uh… hi?”
I am puzzled. Trying to work out what is happening here.
I think they are too.
“Hel-lo,” I say cautiously. “You shall call me queen.”
They stare at me, blinking a few times. Then they look at each other and fall into a fit of laughter. They are saying things, but I can’t quite keep up with the patterns of speech and certain words are not translating well in my brain.
But one thing is for certain. These puny men are not from Granite Springs. They did not wander off getting supplies one day and find their way home.
They are outsiders.
I peer over them and up the side of the hill and almost lose my breath when I see it.
Shimmering, right there in the forest.
A door.
“Dude,” the second man-boy says, still laughing. “Tell me this is a joke.” He points at me. “Tell me we did not just hike in the woods for two fucking days to find that!” He’s pointing at me.
I’m not sure how to respond. I understand that they are making fun of me, probably because I’m wearing antlers on my head and blocks of wood on my feet, but I’m just not sure what to say back to them.