Bewitching Hour

The Village

Any village should have a healthy fear of the dark, but this village had a special relationship. The tribe had a coming of age ritual for men where they had to go out at night to the witch light and bring back proof of a kill. Tosse had never felt the same drive to fight or kill as the other men, but lasted as long as he did in the village because of his excellent cooking and hard work gathering various plants and mushrooms. The elders would normally require at least one daylight kill before sending someone out, but the lad couldn’t just shirk responsibility. Time had run out, and Tosse had to man up and face the darkness. They tried to outfit him with the ritual weapons, but he’d denied them. So the elders in their wrath denied him any armor or cloak, and he set off with nothing but the clothes on him: his family arm beads, tribal necklace, and loin cloth. His male peers could barely stand to look at him, many disgusted and the others just too ashamed of the whole situation to speak up. The village women middle-aged and older loathed to see him go, as many of them got to enjoy his curiosity and easy-going nature and it seemed like each of them taught him something new about the plants and fruit he gathered. A few of the younger ones had idle fantasies of him returning triumphant, but most of them found him too odd. Searching in caves for fungus, putting plants on his skin, dancing about, instead of fighting, or crafting weapons and armor. Even well-armed men weren’t guaranteed to return, and despite their youth they knew the chances were even lower for one who had never killed. He certainly didn’t fit the part of a burly village warrior, but there was a glow about him in the afternoon light and a lithe grace they couldn’t quite place.

Tosse looked longingly at the void of the banner as he turned to leave. It was a place just above the village hearth, where the tribal patterns used to rest decades ago. That was where this nightmare had all started. During the new moon, the day of darkness saw the hearth smothered and the banner that rested above the hearth stolen. The few elders alive described only a dark shape with red eyes, and the rushing sound of giant wings, and a horrifying howl as the hearth extinguished. None had ever seen anything like it since, but there were always dark things lurking near the witchlight.

To the Witchlight

It took him few hours to reach, but he could see it reaching almost as high as some of the trees around it: a clear box, affixed to the top of a tall shiny pole jutting up from the ground. At night, there would be a light emanating from the box, but the sun was just starting to set. Terror seized Tosse. He had grand plans of showing his tribe a better way, but all those evaporated as every rustle or moan of the wind drove him to reach for a stone. Hyperventilating and clutching the stone, he backed up against the pole. Silence. Tosse steadied himself, telling himself that it was just the wind. Just then a blurry shape snarled, lunging from behind a bush. His tribal necklace, made of strong stones, protected his throat from the beast’s jaws and afforded him just enough time to strike it in the eyes with a rock. It yelped and leapt back. They paced side to side, the beast tracking the boy’s movements. He could see that it was a huge, thick-necked creature, vaguely resembling a dog but with a shorter snout. After a moment it seemed no longer intimidated by the man’s posture, even uttering a low laugh. It began to creep inexorably forward. Tosse reached behind his cloth for a secret pouch, and right as the creature neared for another lunge, he tossed the contents of the pouch in the creatures face. It yelped, its eyes stinging. Tosse watched carefully, but felt confident that after two failed attempts it would deem him not worth the effort.

He heard another higher pitched laugh in the brush from his right, followed by another to his left. His blood froze. He had just barely survived an encounter with one. He frantically searched around for stones, tools, herbs, any comfort or protection as the creatures drew nearer and the sky grew darker. He could see five of them now, their massive jaws opening every time they let out that awful laugh. Even if he could bring himself to run, they’d catch him within a few bounds. He tossed as many rocks as he could, but it only deterred one of the five. As he braced himself for the end, he felt a light bathe his shoulders. The creatures stopped dead in their tracks, stunned by the sudden increase in light. Tosse noticed the beam, and glanced over his shoulder. The lamp had turned on. Once the beasts’ eyes adjusted, they still seemed a little puzzled, staring at Tosse quizically for another precarious moment. Not wasting time, he made a desperate attempt to clamber up the metal pole. They continued to close in, now snarling. Tosse clutched a sharp rock that he’d placed in the recently emptied pouch and prepared himself. As the creatures reared up on their hind legs to snap at him, he swung his rock wildly, connecting haphazardly with their snouts. Yet another fled, howling with pain. Even so, it was only a matter of time till one connected with him, and he had doubts about escaping those jaws. He was only vaguely aware of the rushing sound of wing beats rapidly approaching as the first beast returned, its eyes swollen and irritated. Tosse grew enraged. Why wouldn’t they leave him alone!? He locked his legs around the pole and swung his hole body attacking with the rock even more furiously, striking even harder with his blows, not even tracking which he’d hit. He was heedless of his own life, spiraling with the momentum, making his way steadily down the pole. He then connected with a hard surface that jolted up his arm and cracked beneath his fury. He heard an unearthly howl that caused him to drop the rock and cling to the lamp with both arms. The beasts fled at the sound. Tosse glanced toward the source to see a large winged shape flying away, continuing to howl. Once he got past the shock of what happened, it occurred to him that those howls sounded anguished. He gingerly climbed the rest of the way down the pole, noticing a few grazes on his limbs but marveling that he was still alive. What was that thing? He noticed some blood on the ground. Whatever it was, it was hurt. A fig for this coming of age ceremony! and a fig for killing things! That creature was in anguish, and he was going to try to help it.

Cover of Darkness

Now that he didn’t have those beasts pressing him, he took some time to gather some herbs beneath the witchlight. Setting them in his pouch, he started to follow using any signs he could. A bit of blood here, what looked like scales elsewhere, and even a few traces of a chitinous material. He was by no means a tracker, but Tosse had spent enough time foraging and cave delving that he could recognize a den, even at night. He found an odd burrow with the telltale blood, and entered cautiously. He could feel that the tunnel was extremely wide, if not enormous. It was too dark for him to see the breadth and depth of it, but he pressed on, treading very lightly. He felt like he was being watched, but pushed those thoughts aside. He could smell some mustiness, but it wasn’t quite enough to navigate by. His hand grabbed hold of a strong root system, and he clung to it as he made his way. After a few minutes, his eyes began to adjust somewhat. He saw a trace of the blood, the freshest he’d seen. He felt a gust rush past him from the direction he was facing. He instinctively grabbed on with his other arm as his beads and nerves rattled. It wasn’t enough to knock him down, just blow his hair and loincloth around. There was a looming presence behind him, blocking out what little trace of starlight he had from the mouth of the burrow.

It seemed to realize that it’s first attempt was unsuccessful. Tosse felt wind rush out of him as he’s pressed up against the wall and roots. He could see nothing, but felt some powerful fuzzy limbs locking him in place. He struggled to slip out, but he felt even more limbs binding him more tightly, pinning his arms together behind his back. He felt something more delicate briefly explore his torso, then retract. He heard a whirring noise for a few minutes accompanied by slight tugging on his waist. Then the looming shape seemingly departed further down the cave, no longer obstructing the faint starlight Tosse had adjusted to. He impulsively tried to peel himself off of the burrow wall, but found that he couldn’t. Hr felt that his hands were fastened by the wrists to the cave wall. He tugged against them, and kicked at the root, trying to break either his bonds or the roots. The roots were sturdy, but the cords were surprisingly strong as well. He put his flexibility to use, searching around the floor for a jagged rock. He found none, but his toes did catch hold of some of that strange chitin. He carefully shifted it back between his heels and took a deep breath. He braced his shoulders and arms and core, bent his legs at the knee, and tucked his feet back toward his hands, straining with the effort, and..Yes! His heels reached his fingertips and the end of his immobile arms. As he began sawing at his restraints with the jagged chitin, he finally recognized that odd feeling of being watched. He glanced up to notice a pair of gleaming red eyes at first, but after some time he could make out the entire body. His eyes were immediately drawn to a rough brown patch among the pale hard skin of the strong midsection, but was also awestruck by a tuft of spiky red hair and sleek antennae on its head, and angular fierce facial features. Its wings were massive and scaled, and it had multiple fuzzy limbs. The piercing gaze exuded intelligence. It struck Tosse that this was no mere beast or dumb creature, and he surmised that the crude brown patch might be a bandage for the wound he’d inflicted. He felt no immediate threat from the stare, but began to feel self-conscious for the first time on this journey, and impulsively began checking himself to see if something was out of place. He abashedly realized that his arm bands and loincloth were gone, the beads strewn on the burrow floor! His shame overcame his sense of wonder as he tore through his bands, and dashed toward the tunnel’s entrance. He made it a decent distance before he felt his chest caught by two fuzzy limbs, followed by two more catching his wrists. He briefly felt the same soft delicate sensation from earlier, but on his back. He immediately began kicking backward and up with his heels, and the sensation stopped. He then felt two more appendages snake around his thighs, and pulled him tight against the thorax, reducing what little leverage he had with his heels. He felt a sharp tug on his hair and yelped with surprise and pain. They immediately released him, and he heard a thought in his head.

Uncertain Fates

 <I’m so sorry! I had no idea it’d be so painful. But also, what the hell are you doing in my home?> Tosse spluttered, “Your home?! I….well...I was just trying to help! You didn’t have to be so mean about it” They inclined their head, seeming confused. “Yes, tying someone up and stealing their stuff is mean!” he continued, thinking it was a cultural misunderstanding. They shook their head and said <hold up, I can’t understand you and don’t have the patience to explain right now> they gently grabbed him with two limbs, and carefully snatched some dust with another limb, stretched it toward his face and said <breathe> Tosse obeyed and thought ironically <so this is how you treat visitors, tie them up, give them weird dust..>  <Umm, you attacked me and followed me home. Hardly an esteemed guest><Whaaat!? How are you hearing me?! Actually, how was I even hearing you?> <I ingested part of you, and you took in a piece of me. Living near the night-flame has its blessings. Tonight it got me wounded and stalked all the way to my nest. And you said you were trying to help?><Yeah...I’m sorry for just barging in like this. I brought some healing herbs though...><Oh! oh... Well they were delicious. I thought they were some kind of seasoning> <Ok...I wanted to apply them to your wound> they softened a bit <That’s actually kind of sweet...but I was ready to rip you in half. Smart move, bringing in the food by the way. Shared some with the kids, definitely boosted my mood and might’ve saved your life.> < Kids!? And what food?> Tosse asked, curious. <Yep, I’m a Dad. I’m not this aggressive about the nest just for my sake. Whaddya mean, ‘what food’? You had it attached to your body, figured you were setting yourself up as bait. But judging by your strength and fighting skills, I’m sure you meant it as peace offering.> <Hey! I held off five of those wild beasts, I can take care of myself><Okay, you were actually an amazing sight out there. The way your body shone from the night-flame, your tasty threads whipping around around as you artfully spun around the pole...> Initially inflated by all the praise, Tosse smirked as they trailed off <Is that why you got so close?> <No, I...shut up! I was just thinking maybe you needed some help...> <And I did, so thank you, but you needed to get right within striking distance to scare them?> Tosse asked playfully <Ergh. You’re ruining all the good will from the food, and there’s no more. Unless..I can have some of the sweet threads from your head?><You’re talking about my hair, and the answer is no. You already bit it shorter than I like> <I mean, if it grows back, maybe you can reconsider...Females of my kind don’t actually need to eat threads but they taste so nice..>  <Wait, you’re female?!>  <Yes, what does it matter?> He looked down, remembering his missing bands and cloth, and squealed, doing his best to cover up <Don’t look at me!>  She anxiously looked up toward the ceiling <I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to offend you, I just...don’t stray too far from the burrow most nights.> Tosse wasn’t a prude. He’d bathed in the stream by the village often, but this was different. This latest turn confirmed suspicions he’d had since his attempted escape earlier, but was afraid to entertain. He was attracted to this strong, abrasive moth-person. He liked the attention she gave him, being pursued and held by her. He’d seen and heard people talk about this kind of attraction in the village, but protector and hunter women were unheard of. Now he was experiencing one first hand, and he felt more enamored by her than he’d expected. He reassuringly pats her on a fuzzy arm and asks, <it’s ok, I’m just gonna go outside to grab some plants and dress that wound properly for you.> She responded, <I’m ...not gonna hold you against your will or anything... it’s ok if you’d actually rather leave>  He removes his necklace, slips it around one of her her arms, kisses his palm and reaches up to pat her cheek. <Thanks for reassuring. But don’t worry, I’ll be back>  

Where before she’d felt like she’d blown the whole interaction, now she clutched the necklace, elated. She didn’t wanna get too hopeful though. Even the necklace could’ve been more an appeasement or parting gift, he could’ve meant that he’d visit in a fortnight for all she knew. She paused on her way back to check on the napping kids, and glanced back to admire his radiant, graceful, lithe form as he made his way the opposite direction and smiled to herself. Kids were still sleeping after all that food, as she’d expected. She noticed all the powder, chitin, and blood and feverishly tried to clean up in case he did come back. She immediately broke off a few small roots and tried to wind them into a necklace for him. Some time in that process, he returned! She glanced up and saw him. <Hey champ. Lemme fix that wound for you> He knew it didn’t make sense, but he felt less awkward around her with the grass skirt he’d made. <Thanks, it’s fine tho...> <Just relax and let me help you> he sits her down and starts tending to her <Fine...but you have to take this circle I made you.> She meant for it to be a necklace, but it looked more like a circlet. He accepted it with a smile <it’s more rigid and tighter than I expected, but I really like it! Thank you> she beamed, but was a bit embarassed by the praise and quickly changed the subject <what is a champ?>  <Short for champion. In my village, the men would get together and fight to see who’s strongest. The winner is called the champion.> <That sounds ridiculous> <Idk, maybe.  There’s always some kind of reward for winning, so not that stupid. I bet you’d be pretty good > <I’d dominate.> <I’d honestly love to see you try. What would your prize be?> <Your hair> <Not an option> <I’d...take you out to the night-flame and...watch you spin around the pole> He smiled at the compliment, but laughed, gently teasing her <Okay, but we have \*got\* to get you out of the burrow more often.  Everyone else might call you champ, but what should I call you?> <Phaedra> <That’s an interesting name, I kinda like it> She grins<That’s not my name. It’s a title, kinda like your ‘champion’. But it means whenever you visit the burrow, I’ll do you nice things instead of attacking you>