Chapter 4

Sophia stared at the egg, eyebrows crunching together.

It continued to sit on her lap, innocuous. It had been a day since she got her hands on it and it had shown absolutely no signs of changing. Even laying her palm on it no longer triggered whatever vision she had received previously. Now, it seemed to be nothing more than some oversized gem which happened to be warm to the touch.

“Do something,” she commanded.

The silence was her answer.

To be honest, the girl had absolutely no idea what she was doing or what she had to do. If it weren’t for the fact that she had seen something in it, the egg was no different from a crystal orb that was way too big. Like some common chicken egg, it was resolute in its inaction.

Sophia scratched at her chin, contemplating.

How do I hatch this thing?

That was a question that she dearly wished to answer. The problem that she had was that there was no indication that what she did had any effect, just like any other egg. A chicken would eventually hatch in three weeks or more, but this egg was clearly not the same.

“Saltwater, maybe?” she murmured uncertainly, holding the egg up in her palms against the morning light. The ‘yolk’ was just as opaque as ever, the shell itself gleaming as light diffused through it and to her. Whatever that she had seen before, the figure in the white, it had stubbornly hidden away.

“But no, saltwater wouldn’t help,” she rationalized, “If it did, why was it left on a pedestal?”

After all, you weren’t exactly soaked in water or warmed all the time.

After a short while, she immediately reminded that she had taken the egg from there and could have very much likely interrupted some sort of ritualistic hatching process. However, no matter how she thought about it, letting an egg sit alone, surrounded by creepy faces was not a conducive way to hatch anything. If anything, it was as if they were waiting for something to happen, just like her.

Sophia had two more days in which she was free before the Corner resumes business. She felt that it would be best to uncover the secret to hatching the egg before her time was up since she would have little other opportunities to go around and gather materials.

While she was by no means particularly good at writing or reading, she was at least proficient enough to use a piece of charcoal to scrawl notes on the floor under her mattress. On it, she had written down a list of things that she thought could help or contribute.

‘First: Egg is from the creepy temple. Must be spirit related.’

With that idea, she could conclude that most procedures in hatching eggs that are normal wouldn’t help. Eggs usually hatch on their own time — which she was rather reluctant to wait. If normal eggs couldn’t be referenced as a base for egg behaviours, then there was no telling in what could be used and what couldn’t.

‘Second: Egg is water or sea-related.’

As obvious as it was, Sophia wasn’t sure how this plays into her theories. As Finny had said, her acts of rituals were displays of symbolism, that even rocks can keep monsters out. Then, in that case, wouldn’t the egg from the temple had water or sea affinities which could affect how it would be hatched?

If that’s true, how do I even get things that can help?

That was something that puzzled and confounded her.

Then, something sparked. It was a simple idea, really, but she was both aghast and astounded that she didn’t even think about this, a revelation that left her trembling and goosebumps forming on her arms.

If it was an egg…

Then… where’s the mother?

She didn’t move for a while, simply spending it breathing deeply to calm her nerves. Head flitting, she peeked out of the shutters. The day was early, the sun barely visible over the horizons, casting its rays of white over the mountain tops. It had been a day and so far, nothing gigantic had arrived in the village demanding its lost child, no gods were trying to kill her or anything dramatically unusual.

Perhaps she didn’t know it’s gone yet.

For an instant, but not for the first time, she thought about telling Finny or Uther about this egg before she vehemently refused that notion. With how defensive Finny was or how cautious Uther was, they would definitely take the egg from her and toss it back into the woods or something equally drastic. If that were to happen, then she wouldn’t be able to pursue her lead of magic as she wished or want.

Whichever the case, she wanted to hatch it without dying before that happens.

Making a sigh that would make Finny proud, she lifted her little lump of wrapped charcoal and resumed her diagrams. ‘3,’ she wrote, tapping the tip on the floorboard as she considered her options.

Slowly, she wrote, ‘Plan to not die by gods and spirits.’

She felt that it would be quite an important plan.

The most immediate thought she had was through prayer and begging for forgiveness. Even whilst living with Finny, Sophia had never been a paragon of faith, just like most of the population of Ansvil. However, as of two days ago, she had a drastically different opinion about the matter after gaining first-hand experience. That didn’t prevent her from feeling rather apprehensive about the matter or the idea of praying into thin air, especially to some god or goddess that may not be entirely pleased.

What kind of friendly god makes temples out of shipwrecks?

She glanced back at the egg and pursed her lips. Things were happening very quickly, out of her control and she had no idea how to direct it. Like a ship caught in the currents, she was set adrift from the course she had known her entire life, stranded under unfamiliar stars in stranger waters.

Alright.

Whatever I do, I can’t do it just by sitting here.

She shook her head once and stood up, letting the mattress fall back onto the floor, covering all traces of her work. Deftly, she hid the egg in her covers, wrapping it all up and setting it safely on the side. Once everything was set and proper, she got herself dressed.

As winter continued to set in, the air was cold even as sunlight streamed in weakly. Pulling her coat over her dress and her hat — wait — she took her hat back off.

I was supposed to have lost this.

Looking down at it forlornly and with a certain regret, she rolled it up in the covers just as well. With another sigh and a deep breath, she trotted downstairs.

In the early morning, Uther had already left for his post. None of the candles was lit as she meandered her way to the first floor, relying on the pale white light from the outside to find her path through the stairs, the old, knotted wood creaking with every step.

Finny was at the opened front door, a shovel in hand. Overnight, the snow had built up upon the porch and she had to clear them out before the structure bends.

“Morning!” Sophia greeted, shuffling her way to behind the counter. A small fire had been lit, and instead of the customary pot, a metal mesh had replaced it. Two slices of bread had been set above, letting the fire fry it to a golden sheen as the cheese sprinkled above melted in the heat.

“Morning!” the other girl replied, panting as she wiped her brow. She glanced back once and asked, “How’s your hand?”

“Doing fine! Need any help?”

“Nah! I got this handled! Eat your food before it gets cold.”

Sophia obliged.

Finny came back in some odd minutes later, shaking her own coat off as the door closed. Snow decorated her hair in splashes of white, her nose red. Squeezing her hair out, she noted, “It’s a chilly morning.”

“Mhm,” Sophia replied noncommittally, her eyes glancing upward. Finny once again, despite the haphazard apparel she usually dressed in, or the wind-swept mess of blonde hair, there was something other-worldly about her that Sophia couldn’t put her finger on. It was clear that something dodgy was going within this family, something not quite normal about the Creightons, something that had never occurred to her before two days ago.

Is Finny a witch?

Sophia wasn’t quite sure what to think about that topic. With all the ritualistic scattering of stones, carving beads on a necklace and talks of monsters, Finny was definitely either under some sort of influence and lying out of her arse, or was actually some sort of wise-woman that happened to live in a tavern and served tables.

Either way, it was a thought most absurd and one that she couldn’t reliably deny out of hand. If anyone were to know anything about the egg or things out of mortal ken, then it would most definitely be Finny.

Then, another thought Sophia: I don’t need to tell her about the egg!

She doesn’t need to know about it. I just need to ask her about unusual things.

Finny stated, “Not many people out nowadays.”

“Mhm.”

“How’s your bread?”

“Great. Look, Finny, I’ve been wanting to ask…” Sophia trailed off, uncertain as to how to break this topic. She hadn’t realized that she had opened her mouth and had started talking, but when she came to her sense from whatever she was attempting to do, she had already blabbed out some words on a fleeting urge.

“About?” Finny pressed on, a single eyebrow raised as she found a seat opposite to her. She had gotten herself a small mug of milk somewhere and took a gulp, leaving a small moustache around her lips.

“Who taught you about all these… things?”

“You mean, cooking?”

“N-No, the rocks, the carvings, the ones that you showed me.” Sophia clarified. Her plate was already empty, her gloved hands knitted together, “I haven’t asked before.”

“Its what my ma taught me. The cooking too, if you were wondering.”

“Mrs Creighton used to do these things as well?”

“Yeah,” Finny said, “Knows a lot more than I do, too. Why, you interested?”

“Kind of,” Sophia admitted, “Seems interesting to be.”

“Could be boring instead, you know?”

“Nah. Though, I don’t think Uther likes it,” Sophia said in a conspirational tone, hushed as if she was afraid someone else may have overheard it.

“Hm, your brother dislikes many things.”

“I think it’s interesting,” Sophia insisted, “I mean, if what you said is true, that is.”

“Uther thinks it’s a waste of time, thinks it’s dangerous,” Finny shook her head, “Always told him that not thinking about it won’t make it go away.”

“Like the Zwiets?”

“The Zweits are different.”

“How?”

“Attitude, mostly,” said Finny with a so-so gesture, “One wants nothing to do with them while the other wants to go around removing them all. It’s still ‘dislike’, just different brands of it.”

“Oh. Is that bad?”

Finny made a face, brows scrunching together, “Not really. Our ancestors had been a war-like people, if you didn’t know. According to our faith, we had to push back to gain favour with the gods, so perhaps theirs would work just as well.”

“Like, fighting?” Sophia remembered, “You’ve said that before.”

“Mostly,” the older girl shrugged, “Where did you think all those monster-slaying stories come about?”

“Wait, they’re all true?!” Sophia asked in surprise, “The head-chopping, the dragons razing villages and —”

“No, not even by half,” Finny had a smile, lips quirking up, “Most of them were made up to sound better or else they won’t sell, but yes, most stories always have some truth in it.”

“Huh,” Sophia leaned back, considering, “But wasn’t that… I don’t know, a hundred years ago? Haven’t heard of anything like that happening that wasn’t some saga or tale.”

“The Zweits,” Finny answered simply, the brief grin fading away, “When they attacked, most of the records and customs were destroyed. In particular, there just weren’t warriors of the past anymore.”

Sensing the rather grim topic approaching, Sophia quickly continued on the discussion, “Well, you’ve also said sacrifices, right?”

“Hm?”

“Yeah, you answered the Zweit captain about —”

“Offerings yes.”

“I haven’t seen you done it.”

“No, you haven’t,” Finny said, now openly frowning.

“So… what exactly is it that you do?”

“Huh,” Finny grunted, her eyes methodically scanning her up and down, seemingly surprised.

“What?” Sophia questioned defensively, crossing her arms.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking that you are awfully interested,” Finny questioned back, head cocked to the side, “Thought you found it boring or ‘unreal’, as you said.”

“Uh… well, less boring than most things,” Sophia stuttered out, fingers nervously twisting together, “It’s like… stories, you know. Interesting things.”

“Just stories?”

“Well…” Sophia took a deep breath, “More than that. You… what you said, they were all real, weren’t they? They aren’t just stories.”

Finny froze for a second, her eyes flickering up. Slowly, softly, she prodded, “Whatever do you mean?”

“The rocks,” Sophia said in an almost accusatory tone, “I’ve seen you do your thing. You’ve walked around the house, burying the stones and planting seeds on them. When I check them the next day, they were gone. You’re doing something. You can do things that weren’t just stories.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Hmph,” Finny grunted. In her grasp, the milk suddenly took on the same seriousness of alcohol, swishing gently. In the snowy morning, there was nearly no sound to be heard aside for the small fire blazing in the corner. Sophia waited nervously, her fingers tapping on the worn wooden benches as time trudged on.

“So…” Sophia said, eventually.

“Uther won’t be happy,” the reply was simple, dull, with the certainty that one would use to describe the current weather.

So, it’s true then.

“He’s never happy.”

“Don’t say that to him,” Finny snorted, taking another sip from the mug as if she was discussing some gossip rather than world-changing revelations, “He thinks that it’s all a bit a too grim for your liking.”

“Grim?”

“Fairytales and legends weren’t known to have happy endings or problems that can be solved by flowers and talking,” Finny said, “It can give people the wrong idea — especially if you are practising them.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, just so you know, most people would probably think you’re mad or attempting some dark magic if you tried convincing them that any of this is real, you understand that, right?”

“I’ll thank you for your faith in me, then,” Sophia stated dryly, “Especially with how you had been preaching constantly about spirit this and spirit that.”

“Who said I haven’t been lying the entire time? I may have, you know?”

“I really, really doubt it.”

“Then let it put it this way, are you absolutely certain you want to know?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s something that once known, it cannot be unlearned. It’s something that needs commitment, Sophia, not some half-warmed excitement built on something as flimsy as boredom,” Finny had set her mug down on the oaken table, face serious to the extreme. A thin grove could be seen burrowing between her delicate brows as she kept speaking, her voice soft, “I need you to understand that it would not merely be listening stories any more if you want to learn. It will have consequences that you will need to deal with.”

Sophia had never seen Finny like this before, not with this kind of dangerous feeling of intensity. Not even with the Zweits had she been so thoroughly unnerved or saw Finny so focused. Perhaps it was the suddenness, perhaps it was the dark, foreboding tone that Finny used, but Sophia was abruptly stricken with some great unease.

If it was any other day, perhaps a few weeks ago, Sophia would have laughed at the other girl’s theatrical speech. However, given the recent events that had transpired and the secret she was housing upstairs, she felt that she should take Finny’s warning seriously.

Even if she hardly knew or understand whatever occult doings Finny was up to, she could tell that if she said ‘yes’, whatever she thought she knew about the world around her would come crumbling down like snow from a shaken tree.

Despite it all, however, she couldn’t say no. It was far too late for that, even if Finny didn’t know it. So, instead, she asked, “Are you serious? This isn’t some joke, is it?”

“Oh, it is certainly not a joke and is not at all funny, I’m afraid. If you say yes, your life will change in ways both marvellous and terrible, it is not a decision you can take back either.”

“...”

“No, I can’t show you anything until you accept that you understand.”

“And if I say no…?”

“Then we can go on our lives and pretend that we never had this conversation and I meant it. If Uther knows that you’re catching onto us, I’m going to be in rather big trouble,” Finny said plainly as if what she had just suggested weren’t ludicrous or odd at all.

At that, Sophia inhaled deeply and answered, “I understand.”

Do I?

She hoped she did, it’s no longer a game, a whimsical dream.

As the words left her mouth, she felt something in the air shift, as if some hidden mechanism in the very fabric of the world had shifted. There was a moment of silence as Finny froze again, taking a long, deliberate blink.

“Well,” Finny breathed the word loftily out of her lips, raising her hands up in the air as if she was surrendering some unseen cause, “If Uther asks, tell him I tried. If he didn’t, don’t tell him I did.”

Just like that, the tension dissipated into nothingness.

“Tried? To do what?”

“To keep you away from all this business,” Finny said, leaning back against her chair, head lolled back and eyes closed, “He wanted you to have a normal life, you know?”

“Wait, he knows all about this?” Sophia questioned incredulously, eyes wide, “Is that what you mean? That this all —”

“Not all. Just enough that he too thinks you shouldn’t get involved,” Finny shook her head, “I’ve told you before, it’s dangerous. Even if Uther doesn't try to strangle me for this, my mother would be just as equally displeased.”

“But you’re the one who was telling me all about it!”

“It started before that,” Finny denied, sighing, “If it weren’t for the Zweits walking in and disrupting the protections we placed on you, none of this would have happened. Besides, it was you who wanted to follow me, so it was hardly my fault when you inevitably pick some things up eventually.”

“... You’ve been hiding it all this time? How?” Sophia cried, “I live in this house!”

“It was difficult,” Finny shrugged, lifting her head up, “Difficult to keep you safe and away from it all. We tried for some time but then… well, the Zweits came along.”

“How long?” Sophia demanded, “Is everyone in the house some witch or something?”

“What? No!” Finny denied, affronted, “And don’t call us witches. That’s a rude description.”

“Then —”

“It's not something so illustrious,” Finny stressed out the word, another frown on her pretty face, “Just knowledge passed down from generations that happened to be true. With that in mind, please take a moment to think about what you want to ask.”

There was a pause in the conversation. Sophia took a deep breath, exhaling, her mind racing.

“So,” she finally said.

“So?” Finny prompted back.

“What is it that you do, actually?”

“Can’t answer that,” Finny immediately replied.

“... Uh.”

“Can’t exactly tell you what we do,” Finny rephrased that, “Not on my own, anyway, and I doubt I can explain to you exactly what we do without some more information or without my mother being in the room.”

“... Is it that complicated?”

“Very. But, simply put, we… keep the peace and maintain relationships. Does that make sense to you?”

“A little bit…” Sophia decided to answer, trying to appear as if it was all intuitive to her, “And the thing about Mrs Creighton? Why can’t you tell me more without her?”

“Well, it’s because I’m still learning,” Finny answered, eyebrows raised, “It’s complicated.’

“We run a tavern,” Sophia stated, exhaling out loud again, “A tavern.”

“And your problem with that is…?”

“Why a tavern? Aren’t you suppose to be in the woods or something?”

“Told you, we keep the peace,” Finny shook her head again, “And the tavern is… Well, we are still people and money is still needed for food and the like. No reason for us to be out there, you understand?”

“Uh-huh.”

Sophia wasn’t expecting such a mundane answer though, in hindsight, it was a stupid question. She asked, “And who knows? About all of this?”

“No one but us and the like,” Finny gave a smile, “We are pretty well hidden.”

Sophia closed her eyes for a second, trying to process all of this.

She knew that Finny had always been odd — and so was Mrs Creighton, for that matter. From the rock scattering, the lack of a Mr Creighton and the fact that they were propping up a tavern between the three of them, it became more and more obvious that something was amiss. Maybe she had grown desensitized to the strangeness of it all, to the extent that she couldn’t even tell that it wasn’t even meant to be normal.

Either way, the conversation had grown stranger and worse by the second. With every word she said, she could feel a headache and a disconcerting disconnectedness to it all, the scope of the problem beyond her current cognition.

So, instead of processing that, she decided to groan, lay her head on the table and hide underneath her sleaves.

“Sophia,” Finny sighed again, “I know all of this must sound very strange to you but I swear that I’m telling you the truth.”

“No, it’s not that,” the younger girl muttered, staring back up for a few moments, “Its… how do you even hide away all of this?”

“In plain sight and with a healthy application of charms,” Finny answered, shrugged, “Explaining more now would mean nothing to you. However, we were talking about something before all of this... Alright, what were we talking about?”

“Offerings?”

“Right, offerings...” the blonde thought for a moment, “Offerings takes many forms. Traditionally, a person would dedicate something to a god, an activity, usually.”

“Activity?”

“Yes, activity. The gods were known to appreciate feats far more than simple sacrifices of items,” Finny waved her hands at the pots on the shelf, “However, most folks would throw a part of their food in the fire, thinking that their work and labour will make it to them as proof. Dedicated worshippers, however, would use actions that hold meaning to their patron god.”

“...That’s it?” Sophia eventually said, her eyes narrowed with suspicion, “With how the captain said it, it seemed to be something a bit more…”

“That’s what most folks do nowadays,” Finny continued with a grimace, “In times past… well, the people of Bvurdrjordr were known to be much more aggressive about the ways they show their devotions. Whilst most of the people prefer using food, some live beyond the influence of Zweutaland and still prefer more… ah, barbaric ways.”

“Uh… that’s saying?” Sophia squinted, pressing on.

“Do you really need me to say more about it?” Finny asked, “I’m saying this because it can get a bit dark, and by that, I meant they were up to some seriously disturbing acts. Would be liable to make you sick.”

“Oh.”

“So, there’s that,” Finny smiled a little bit, somewhat sad, “Nothing particularly complicated about it all.”

“And... “

“No more questions for now,” Finny said, “Too much knowledge of the wrong sort could give you twisted perceptions of the world around you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“And you mean…?”

Sophia took another deep breath. The sun had risen higher and the light grew brighter. By now, she could faintly hear activities within the streets and roads. On the side, the fire had gotten low, the small stack of wood within having been spent and used. Mustering her courage, she tentatively asked, “I was… well, wondering, if you could show me. M-Magic, things like that, I mean.”

“I was wondering whether you would ask me that,” said Finny, setting her mug down. It was empty inside with the barest hint of milk.

“So you are going to show me something, then?”

“Maybe,” she answered. With a shuffle, Finny extracted herself from the bench, stretching sinuously, her back arching before straightening again. After thinking for a moment, she turned to the door, “Come on, we’re going for a walk. Not a thing to talk in the shade.”

“Now?!,” Sophia asked, not moving, shocked at the sudden, unexpected request.

“Yes.”

“Al-alright,” she obliged, scrambling out of her own seat.

The sun outside was blinding, especially after emerging from the door. Looking left and white, the streets were cast in shades of black and white, dark walls contrasting the pale, pristine roads, snowy even as the shore-side salt covered the stones and dirt. There were few pedestrians or villagers on the streets, if none at all. The wind was blowing slightly through the buildings, cold and unyielding.

“The fire,” said Sophia.

“Don’t mind it,” Finny replied, hoisting the door shut. There were no locks, no beams, no one at guard — and it was the first time that Sophia had noticed this. Despite that, the older girl was purposeful in her steps, striding away from the Corners with such speed that Sophia struggled to catch up without running.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Somewhere not in the Corners,” Finny answered, “The question was, what were you expecting me to do?”

“Magic…?” Sophia tentatively suggested, her voice so low as to almost having been dispersed by the wind.

“And what were you expecting out of that?”

She didn’t have an answer. So, she gave her most truthful reply, “I don’t know.”

“Good!” said the older girl, “That meant that you don’t have misconceptions.”

Sophia opened her mouth to speak but found that she had nothing to say. Words had dried up on the tip of her tongue, so she held it as she followed Finny. As the two walked, it became apparent that the two were heading closer and closer to the port. The smell of salty sea-air paired with the freezing cold played havoc on her nostrils and hair but in their hurry, Sophia didn’t find the time to bothered by it.

Even on the docks, there were few people about, the ships having been dragged ashore to prevent the wood cracking. With the Corners closed as well, the citizens had found themselves seeking refuge inside their own home more often than not. The first of the winter ice had already begun forming, wrapping their grip around the legs of the pier.

The wood creaked softly as they stepped upon it, boots sending rapid thuds onto the planks. With the natural bay that the village was built in, they were spared from the worst of the waves but even so, the ice was wholely inadequate in keeping the sea still. Over the side, Sophia could barely see her own reflection in the deep, dark blue.

Eventually, the two stopped, standing at the very end of the docks.

Sophia waited for Finny to say a word, weathering the freezing waves of snow in silence. It took a while, the wait was uncomfortable, but Finny did speak.

She breathed out, the very air misting at her warmth, “Thank you for following me out here.”

“Mhm.”

“What do you think magic is, Sophia?”

“I don’t know.”

“Magic… magic, as I knew it, is an exchange,” Finny said, her gaze still casting out at the sea, “Do you still remember what I said about our faith? You were there.”

“... To take, you must give.”

“Yes, and do you know what that means?

“Yes…?” Sophia slowly replied, cupping her face in her gloves.

“We… well, Mrs Creighton, really, we weren’t much of magic users. We don’t have anything flashy, anything epic. But, even with what little we know, we had to pay much. For generations, we had remained here, tending to the bridge between mortals and the spirits, bound in ways beyond the physical form, sometimes in ways that steeped in blood. Magic… Magic, I think, in terms of power, costs the most,” Finny gave a small laugh at that. “So, what can you give? I’m already paying for mine in my duties, what will you do?”

“... I don’t know,” Sophia answered, her voice quiet.

“And you still want to learn?”

“... Yes.”

“Sophia,” Finny said, “I will be honest, I do not know how to teach or how to even begin. Most of what I knew came from Mrs Creighton and she did to her own mother.”

“I would like to learn everything.”

“You weren’t meant to realize this. You weren’t meant to want to know more and I had no idea what to do when you suddenly asked me this morning. I don’t know how to even introduce any of this to you.”

“Mhm.”

“If you want to know,” Finny said, her head turning to address Sophia directly, “If you really think you wouldn’t regret it, I’ll teach you the basics.”

“I would like that.”

“You wouldn’t,” she smiled sadly, “You may think that at first, but sooner or later… well, the moment you said yes, you’ve already begun the very first steps in changing who you are, your very future. But for now, listen, and do not interrupt, and I'll tell you many, many things.”

And so, Sophia listened, more than she ever did.