It was the chime of mental bells, and the appearance of a rather peculiar set of vibrant words in his field of vision that broke Mannat’s immersion, and pulled his mind back to reality. He ignored the noise and floating words. Surprisingly, he was suddenly all alone in the cold, dark woods. It was a rather confusing situation. Where were the others? He had been the part of a rather large group just a few… how long had it been, actually?

The green-eyed boy couldn’t remember.

Well, he did try but was rewarded with a headache for the effort. It was a sharp pain that came and remained, pulsating like a wound.

It couldn’t have been long… but looking for the stars in the sky only set him back; the sky was pitch black with no sign of stars or satellites. The canopy, he remembered. It must have been rather dense to completely hide the sky. He must have walked deeper into the woods —not an ideal situation, but he didn’t panic. He wasn’t going to cry at least, though his heart did pound inside his chest.

Where to go, though? All directions looked the same in the darkness. Yet, he didn’t have to make a decision. The pressure that he had been sensing engulfed him suddenly and the boy felt his mind spinning like a top. His knees buckled, sight churned and stomach burned. The little he had eaten that evening fought to rise up his throat, and it did. He kneeled on the ground and retched. It was painful and hot and made his ears ring.

His eyes watered and blurred his surroundings, for the time being, bringing the ethereal floating words back to his focus.

[Your Mana sense has reached level 6.]

[Your intelligence has increased by one point and has reached 12 points.]

[You can now actively concentrate upon a mana source. Caution is required. Actively using mana sense mana burns multiple times the normal amount, and at a faster rate depending upon one's focus.]

Finally, the skill crossed the low threshold and reached level six. It had been so long since the last increase. He had to actively use mana sense? No wonder it had stalled at level five.

Mannat wasn’t happy though. Not only was he stranded deep in the woods because of the untimely stroke of luck, but his migraine, the painful headache from his childhood, was back with a vengeance.

Whatever the case, there was nothing much he could do other than to let his mana regenerate naturally. It wouldn’t have taken him long, an hour at most to get some function back.

He had entered the woods believing he would be able to go back home with an answer or two, but now he was stuck in the thick of it, both literally and figuratively.

Mannat held his head and lay on the ground with his legs tucked under his chest. He did feel the touch of sleep trying to put him out of his misery, but he couldn’t fall asleep there in the open. That would be a death warrant. So he kept his eyes peeled open and suffered through the suffocating headache.

He remembered his mother's smiling face whenever he felt like giving in to the pain. He became accustomed to the pain with time, but it was a substantial sensation and he was but a wee nipper. He grew thoughtful and delusional as time passed. He wondered if there was a beast hiding behind the trees, watching him and waiting for him to fall asleep.

Seconds turned into minutes. After what felt like an eternity, suddenly he felt something behind him, setting an alarm of panic in his heart. He rolled over his shoulder and let out a groan. What did he see? A gust suddenly passed through the woods, picking up foliage and leaves. The cold wind eased his headache slightly and calmed his racing mind. That’s when he saw it; there was a light glowing in the distance. There was someone there: a fire, perhaps? A person!

His vigor renewed, the boy pushed himself up. Suddenly, the headache felt a little less intense, and he staggered forward through the dark alien woods toward the shimmering light. The light looked like a star in the darkness behind the trees. It wasn’t as close as he was hoping it to be, but surprisingly his migraine fizzled in intensity with each step he took, while the pressure on his senses increased instead. Whatever he was walking toward was emitting a huge amount of mana into the surroundings; he had finally found the source of his curiosity.

By the time he had drawn close to the source of the light, his headache was all but gone. It had become no more than background noise at best.

Confident and wary but laboriously breathing —since his constitution was even worse than his strength— Mannat burst out into a clearing in the middle of the forest. He got there somehow. It was almost like the trees had cleared a path for him and the floor had pushed him forward, but that was obviously not true.

Finally, he could see the sky. Night had fallen upon the world. There was no moon in the sky, and the stars seemed to have been plucked from the heavens and fixed upon the pink flowered tree growing up ahead. It glowed brightly in the darkness, lightening its surrounding in a mesmerizing pink hue. Every individual flower shimmered like a star. Mannat instantly remembered having seen something like it before.

There was a hut behind the tree. He didn’t know whether it was right to call that thing a hut since it looked like a cave with a wooden door and a cross paned glass window attached to its front face. It was the sharply tapered roof that cleared his doubt. No way, that belonged to a cave. Still, the house, or hut, was anything but normal. It looked to be made of dark stones and was mostly covered in a bouncy layer of green algae. It had large colorful flowers growing in places, and fruit vines hanging from the corners.

It was almost as if the forest had all but engulfed the construction.

“The witch’s house,” Mannat mumbled, unable to consider what to make of it. Curious, he looked around. He wasn’t scared, instead felt warm and fuzzy inside, like he was sleeping under his blanket on a cold winter night and didn’t want to wake up. Taking a deep breath, he resolutely exhaled and courageous ventured closer. A wide dirt path led to the house which had fenced gardens on both sides. He was pumpkins and carrots, radishes, tomatoes, carrots, peas, and many more patches of vegetables. That was astonishing. How were vegetables from different seasons growing in the same garden?

“That is odd…”

“Is it as odd as a nipple sucking kid disturbing someone at the eve of no moon?” The voice, shrill and cold, sent a shiver down the boy’s spine. But the voice sounded human, and Mannat knew he didn’t need to fear the Witch if she was human.

Also, Pandit would have notified the news of his disappearance to everyone, including his parents. He was sure the whole village would be up and out with torches in hand to find him in time like they had been the last time with young Trim.

Anyways, he was more afraid of Raesh’s temper than the Witch. That is until he turned left toward the garden and had a look at the old, hunchback hag. She wore a black gown that showed the bottom half of her hairy legs and held a long, wrinkled stick with a fist-sized round head. She wasn’t the most eye-pleasing sight. The witch had piercing white eyes, sunken into a quagmire of wrinkled, old, and brown skin. She was tall even though hunched. Well, Mannat was six years old — everyone looked tall to him.

She carved a path through the vegetable garden and stopped right in front of him, but stayed on the other side of the fence. It was only then that he noticed the worst thing about her: she stank. It was like she had rubbed cow dung all over her body, and then taken a bath in the juice of rotten vegetables.

Mannat was a polite boy, but even he had to pinch his nose shut because of the odor.

However, despite everything, Mannat felt at ease in front of the Witch. And he was curious; she was clearly a human, an old lady, yet the villagers were scared of her and called her a Witch. Why?

“What?” The witch shrieked. “Stop staring, or I’ll pluck those green eyes from your skull and have my raven play marbles with them.”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t see a raven, and they don’t play marbles.”

The witch countered louder than before. “Who says I don’t have a raven? It’s inside my hut, feasting on the flesh of the child I kidnapped a few days ago. I’m going to boil young Trim and eat him for dinner; you want to join him?”

Mannat forehead creased. He took a look at the house before setting his eyes back at the old wrinkled hag. “You are lying?” He shook his head. “I know young Timmy was missing, but he returned home a few weeks ago. He was visiting his uncle, not kidnapped. Also, you can’t have a raven since there is an owl hanging right outside.” He looked back to show her where, but the woods were as dark as a tightly shut box. He couldn’t even make out where he was, much less which direction he had come from.

The witch cackled out loud seeing him clumsily tilting his head. It took her a while to get her breath back, but she didn’t take her eyes off the brat.

The witch leaned forward on her stick and said, “What are you doing out here at night? Aren’t you afraid of getting hurt?”

Mannat looked around at his quiet surroundings and his face fell. “Don’t try anything, all right.” He said gloomily. “Raesh must be searching for me; he’ll be here soon. He’s the village blacksmith. I can see that he built you the fence. You must require his help regularly around your hut. Don’t hurt me if you want him to keep helping you.”

The woman spat on the ground.

“That’s nasty.”

“Shut up.”

Then the two grew silent. The old hag didn’t seem like she wanted to say or do anything, and for some reason, Mannat felt himself getting flustered. He didn’t want to get on her nerves; the women might have looked normal, but there had to be a reason why everyone in the town called her a Witch, right?

So instead of earning her ire, he decided to distract her. Also, he was really interested in vegetables.

“How are you doing it?” He said pointing at the small, but bountiful garden behind her. “There are so many vegetables here that only grown in winter or are from far away. They shouldn’t be here.”

“Huh, never thought I’d see a titty sucking kid showing such interest in my garden. You like pumpkin?” She leaned over the fence and asked, her white eyes glowing with a spark of interest.

“No,” Mannat said stepping back. She frowned and he decided to add a few more words. “But I don’t hate it either. I’d rather my mother not cook it, but I won’t say no to it when she does. If there is one thing I really don’t like to eat, that would be,“ His eyes darted toward the vine covering the left face of the witch’s hut. It was a ridge gourd vine, with plenty of stock hanging from it.

The witch followed his sight and said, “I like them, a lot.”

The boy was taken back, even jumped slightly and hurried back, like his life was in danger. “You like those? But they taste like water.”

“Not if you cook it with a child’s arm. Then it tastes really delicious. Do you want to try it?” The old hag then cackled no different from a raven, making Mannat wonder if there really was a bird inside the hut. He really liked her home though; it reminded him of his garden.

“You should stop lying.” He said

“You are calling me a liar, snobby brat?”

Mannat didn’t like being called that. He was neither snobby nor a brat!

“You are smiling. Most normal people find it easier to lie when they are happy.”

“You said it, most normal people. Maybe I’m imagining how you would taste—“

“Alright. Raesh is taking too long. I think I’m going to leave.”

“Fine, then, go.”

“Really, I’m going,” Mannat said, growing slightly despondent. “I’m going to leave and get lost in the woods at night. Raesh will blame you if I’m not found, and then the villagers will come to your hut with pitchforks and torches and burn you at the stake.”

The witch was taken back. Most people didn’t even dare peep in front of her, and his little shit was talking about burning her at stake! “Cheeky little bastard,” She said, but couldn’t help the laughter that had risen to her throat. She cackled out loud holding her stomach, stomping and slapping the fence in pure joy. She had a smile on her face when she was done laughing. “Say, do you want to wait inside my hut till your father comes?”

“No,” Mannat declined in a heartbeat. The Witch sharply inhaled, as if hurt by the coldness of his voice. “Besides,” he decided to give a reason. “Mother told me to not go anywhere with a stranger.”

The Witch hummed and licked her dry, grey lips as If tasting his thoughts and said, “What else did your mother tell you not to do?”

Mannat squinted and answered cautiously. He decided to humor her; she hadn’t hurt him yet, but she was the Witch. What if she decided she had enough of him?

“My mother told me to behave with elderly people.” There was a snort, but he continued anyway. “And she asked me to be patient with other kids. They are still growing and have a lot to learn.”

The old witch smiled. Mannat had analyzed many expressions since his childhood, but that was the most genuine smile he had ever seen after his mother. It was unlike the cackles and the snorts that she had been faking until then.

He wondered why she was despised by the villagers. She had an obtuse sense of humor but seemed nice otherwise.

“Is that everything your mother told you?” The witch asked.

Mannat shook his head and his eyes shifted toward her large bony fingers. “She also told me to not let anyone touch me, regardless of who they were. I don’t know why she said that.”

“Hmm, I wonder why.” The witch stood with both her hand on her stick, growing comfortable.

Mannat saw it as a chance. “Now it’s your turn.” He said, excited.

“…For what exactly?”

“Tell me something about yourself. How are you growing so many out of season vegetables in the same garden? And why don’t you sell the vegetable to the villagers? I’m really tired of waiting for carrots and peas. Winter is too far away. If you sold them, then I wouldn’t have to eat any of those long, green snake gourds that you like. You can even exchange for them in the market with the villagers!” A sloppy grin grew on Mannat’s face. “That would be nice.” He said imagining his mother asking for it and not being able to buy a single one.

The witch cackled again at his expression. If her laugh broke his immersion, her next words crushed his dreams into countless pieces instead. “Your people won’t take my vegetables. I’m the witch, remember?”

“Oh…” Mannat’s face fell.

There was another long pause. Mannat fidgeted on his feet. He wasn’t afraid of the Witch, but he was starting to get worried because Raesh was taking too long. Where was he, really? The Witch’s lived right next to the village. There was even a path that led straight to her house!

“What’s taking Raesh so long?” He mumbled out loud.

“Maybe he’s lost in the woods.” The boy stared daggers at her, but the Witch continued unfazed. “Or he became a bear’s dinner. That reminds me, I have dinner ready. Why don’t you come with me for a bite or two?” She cackled.

“Stop laughing!” Mannat grew angry. “Raesh won’t die from a bear. He is strong. He can bend metal!”

“Have you ever seen a bear, kid?”

“Is it scarier than you?”

The witch was slumped for an answer and ended up cackling out a laugh that echoed in the woods. It seemed she cackled whether happy or angry. It was a really strange behavior.

“Alright, you got me little nose booger. Tell me one thing and I’ll let you go.”

“I can leave right now.”

“Have a go if you want. I’ll be waiting here for you.” The witch said, but Mannat decided to stay. He was only making noise anyway, wasting time as Pandit’s father —who was a hunter— had once taught him. There was another reason behind his caution. He was almost sure she was the cause of the sensation he had felt all his life.

The Witch impatiently drummed the round head of her stick. Therefore, drawing on the side of politeness, Mannat nodded.

The Witch stopped drumming at once and said in a grave tone of voice, “Isn’t your strength too low for someone who dreams of becoming a blacksmith?”

“Huh?” Mannat backed away from her. He only stopped when he reached the other side of the dirt road, stopped by the steel-rod-fence. “When did you touch me?” he asked, touching himself for anything odd.

“I didn’t.” The Witch said but didn’t force him.

Noor had made him promise he would keep it a secret but pushed into corner words automatically shooting from his mouth, laying his thoughts bare. “I—I don’t know,” he said dropping his head. “Raesh said I might never meet the requirements to become a blacksmith, even after training day and night. But everyone already calls me a freak. I don’t want to be the only one in the village who couldn’t follow after his father’s footsteps.”

The Witch snorted and said, “Even a frog in the pot tries him hardest to get free. Have you never thought about becoming something else? Maybe you are not supposed to be a blacksmith.” The words sounded very strange to Mannat. He couldn’t figure what the Witch was trying to say.

He clenched his tiny fists and shouted. “I’m the son of a blacksmith? What else would I be if not a blacksmith myself?”

He raised his head to meet her eyes, but he couldn’t find her. Her walking stick was still standing on the other side of the fence, but she was not there! She had vanished from the garden! Where did she go? He looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. That was impossible! Then suddenly he heard something in the woods.

“MANNAT!” The intensity of the voice sent a shiver down his spine. “Where are you?” The voice rang in the woods, causing his heart to skip a beat. There, Mannat saw Raesh standing among the trees, holding a torch that burned a bright orange flame at the top. His shirt was damp with sweat and hair sticking at his forehead. He was breathing laboriously as if he had come running from the next town over. And then he saw the small boy staring at him and his eyes opened wide.

“Boy…” Mannat read at Raesh’s lips, and a smile grew vibrant on his face.

“Father!” The boy cried and dashed toward the tall burly man who had knelt on the forest floor and spread his arms open to catch him. Mannat jumped into his father’s arms and Raesh hugged him tightly, afraid to lose him again.

Raesh had thought about shouting at the stupid boy on the way, but all his anger and worry melted when the boy called him father. He believed the boy had gone through enough and decided to not say anything. He stood up without letting him down and started walking back.

Raesh carried Mannat in his arm, so he couldn’t see the astonished expression on his son's face. The house had disappeared from the forest behind him, along with the garden, the tree, and the path. Only a dark forest remained sprawling endlessly in their place, silently warning the boy to mind himself in the woods, or he might one day disappear among the trees like the rest.