The Haunts

Levy went when the farmer plowed the fields. His two daughters were off performing other duties. But the farmhands that saw him go waved and gave him their blessings. Levy masked his tears by He headed west, where he had heard of a soothsayer who could cure everything, including death itself, from one of the visiting townsfolk. But the dark tree sap that coursed through his veins told a different story in a vision he had as he slept. A dark secret that prompted him to take up roots, literally. Sending Levy to find this madman.

Something a hero would do.

Besides, he reasoned, it would be excellent practice, and he could learn the limitations of his new armour and the dragon dagger in his hand. He needed to do as much field work as he could if he planned to return home.

On his way through an old trader’s path in the open hills, he met his share of robbers, highwaymen, and murderers. They proved to be a little match against his strange Hell-born armour and his equally odd blade that protected him from harm. One slight nick, and many of them held onto their wounds like they were on fire. As they slumped to the side of the road, their skin turned purple. Their mouths would foam with froth, and after a fit, they’d expire. The Blade’s poison was getting stronger with each use, and Levy felt it was unstoppable. But his journey wasn’t all full of creeps and cretins. In one match with a group of bloodthirsty bandits, he happened upon an old swordsman who mistook him for a monster. They met on the rocky seacoast of a small peasant town, where the landscape, as he saw it from a distance, was full of fishermen in tiny white boats casting their nets into the icy blue sea.

“By the old ones! I, Dominique Juan, shall defeat you, monster!” The old swordsman had his rapier out and started poking Levy with it.

“Hey! You’re putting holes in my cloak!” Levy went to use his sword, but it had transformed back into a dagger. Like his weapon had a mind of its own.

“Ah-ha!” the swordsman staggered back somewhat gracefully, “even your weapon fears the rapier skills of Dominique Juan!” He made a quick move, and a slash painfully appeared across Levy’s left pale cheek. The slit welled up with a dark sap.

“What the heck?” Levy held his free hand up to his face. “You just cut me, you stupid jerk!”

“Ah-hah!” Juan danced triumphantly: “So the freak has a weakness—that’s good to know!”

“Freak?” Levy’s left eye twitched.

Just as the swordsman was about to draw his thin (but razor-sharp) blade forth into his opponent’s eye, Levy deflected it with his dagger and then slammed into the old man. Causing the poor fool to slip and fall back onto a bed of rocks.

The swordsman flailed backward, landed on them with his eyes closed, and went both limp and unresponsive.

“Old man?” Levy hesitated but used his foot to nudge the silent swordsman. “Hey! Old man…you okay?”

The man didn’t move an inch.

Levy drew closer to see if the old guy was still alive. He worried. Oh shit, please don’t be dead, you bothersome old bugger. Another uncomfortable minute later, the old man started to snored—loud.

“Ah—good.” Levy sat on a large rock across from the old swordsman. Waiting patiently for the miserable bugger to wake up. Maybe he’d think differently about attacking me a second time.

Once the old swordsman finally arose from his nap, he got up, grimacing, while holding his temples. He then lightly padded the back of his head and revealed some dried blood. He squinted at Levy, who gave him a thin smile back, and had his cloak tight around him like a blanket, but a lit fire pit where Levy had caught them both a meal to share divided them.

“You could’ve at least killed me,” the old guy grumbled as he reached for his pockets, which were empty. “Some monster you are.”

“I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a hangover before,” Levy mused as he lowered the old man’s sword as a spit over the roaring fire. He turned the rabbit meat over the flames.

“What are you doing?” The swordsman held his head after he shouted, “That’s my sword you’re using to cook with!”

“You should’ve thought about that when you were trying to stab me with it,” Levy emphasized the holes in his cloak. “I have nothing with me to repair this cloak, and it was a gift.”

“Nobody gives a gift to a monster,” the swordsman staggered closer to the fire. “You probably scoffed if from some poor soul you killed.”

“Keep talking like that and you get nothing to eat.”

“Fine,” the swordsman’s stomach complained loudly as he sat down before the fire and held his hands out to its warmth.

“Do you at least have something perhaps to drink?”

Dominique searched his pockets and then scanned the vicinity of where he had slept. “I seem to have misplaced my small metal canteen.”

Levy rummaged through his cloak and threw the old bugger a small metal canteen. The old swordsman raised an eyebrow.

“What else you got in there?” Dominique uncorked the small metal canteen and took a swig. “Perhaps a stag too?”

“Let’s just say that horses and I don’t quite see eye to eye,” Levy closed his cloak.

“Let me guess, is it because you’re a monster?”

“It’s because I weight more than a normal person my age and size, dumbass.”

“I thought it was because you’re a monster.”

“Well, that’s true, too, but believe me, it’s all in how it looks.”

“It’s hard to tell since your keep hiding behind that cloak of yours.”

“I honestly don’t care what you think of me,” Levy crossed his arms. “Besides, I wasn’t always like this.”

“Oh, yeah?” the swordsman snorted. “Lemme guess, you lost a bet?”

“It was more like a curse.”

“Bah! Then you are ashamed, no?”

“What should I be ashamed of?”

“Stand up and let me see. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. Come closer to the fire. Careful now.” the swordsman gestured for Levy to open his cloak wider so he could see. All the while, he filled his mouth with alcohol.

Levy complied and opened his cloak to show that the bark covered him from neck to foot like dark-grey armour. His hands were bare of bark. The nape of his neck had dark roots extending up behind his ears but didn’t go any further. “As you can see. I originated from another world, and when I crossed over into this one, I fought a monstrous tree known as—”

As Levy told his tale, the old swordsman unexpectedly bent down and spit a mouthful of alcohol above the campfire. A flume of flames licked towards Levy, catching the front of his cloak on fire. Dominique kicked up his sword from the fire pit and gripped the hilt in his hand as Levy flailed about putting out the fire. He ignored the scalding handle at first, but then he had to work to keep it raised and aimed at Levy while hot grease dripped down his palm and seeped into the sleeve of his shirt.

Light smoke rose from Levy’s armoured body as the flames calmed down and he thrashed the cloak free of fire. A screen of magical bark protected the young man from head to toe, while his cloak charred beyond recognition. His dagger had transformed into a brilliant blue sword with sharp, razor fangs.

“What kind of demon are you?” The fighter threw down the rapier and grasped his burned hand. Among the ashes of the fire pit, his meaty dinner sizzled.

“Gaze upon me and see what you get for annihilating the Mighty Marwolaeth. It saturated my wounds in its sap throughout my combat with it, and I’m only now coming to terms with it. Thank you very much.”

“You poor damn fool,” the swordsman shook his head. “Then, truly, you’re cursed.”

“At least we can agree on that.” The armour fell away from Levy’s face and hands, allowing him to sheathe his sword, which had reverted to a dagger.

“So, even though you look like a monster, you’re not evil?” Dominique tried to cross his arms, but the burn on his hand was enough to seek the flask he had tucked into his shirt pocket.

“This place isn’t like my world.” Levy knelt in the pit, picking at the charred meat. “It’s tough to determine who is bad and who isn’t there.” All you have to go on is their conduct, not their appearance.” Levy’s mind flashed back to the Hag who had tormented him. She appeared to be a harmless old bag lady pulling a cart at first, but suddenly...

As he saw her face up close, his knees buckled. He stepped back, and despite appearing to be an old man, Dominique moved quickly enough to save Levy from collapsing.

“You okay?” Dominique moved Levy to sit on the large stone. The old man’s face showed a brief expression of concern.

“I-I think I just had a premonition.”

“Bad, was it?” Dominique had to ask.

“It was from someone I had to escape from.” Levy fought to gain control of his emotions. “At first, she tormented me and then she took away all that I loved. First me grandmamma, then me ma and then… me best friend.”

“Are they all—dead?”

Levy looked at Dominique and gave him a brief nod.

“So you thought by coming here you could somehow escape her wrath?”

Levy averted his eyes and gave another nod.

“Then you’ve escaped to the wrong world, I’m afraid.”

“Maybe not. So far I’m learning how to defeat true evil,” he used his hands to brush himself off.

Dominique stood back, and in his hands, he held Levy’s dagger. He was admiring its craftsmanship. “Quite the weapon. How it can shift from a dagger to a full-length, broad sword is pure sorcery. Any magicians in your world?”

“Mostly scientists,” Levy licked his lips. He didn’t fully trust the swordsman’s intentions. “But I’d seen my fair share of things and people here that remind me of home.”

Dominique looked over the dagger with mild interest. “It’s simply a shame you don’t know how to use such an exquisite weapon.”

Levy opened his mouth but said nothing. His tummy was tight as a drop of sweat formed on his brow. If this man thinks he can use that weapon against me, I’ll have no choice but to kill him.

But Dominique did something unexpected. He handed the dagger back to Levy.

“Then I guess I’ll have to show you how to use it so that when you return home, you can vanquish the evil that tormented you and your family.”

“Y-you would do that?”

“Of course, I would. What gentlemen would I be if I didn’t show you the fine art of swordplay?”

Levy now had someone to prepare him for his return to his world. However, he learned that coming home would take a little longer than he had expected. The world he was in had enough evil to keep him occupied.