A View Form Above

Up in the tower, a pool of strange-smelling water reflected nothing; blue flames flickered on top, reminding her again of what she lost. “This will help; hand me the hat.” She removed it, handing it to Malgastiflorian who tossed it casually onto the flames. She was startled, looking to the old wizard for comfort. “It is far to the east; maybe two towns over; it is a middle-aged man.” His eyes were closed. “He is a leader in that town, a former prince. Oh, dear,” he said, reaching into the fire and grabbing the hat.

“The king of Grix died, but he left an heir. I’m afraid it is a vendetta spell in order to end it, you must end him.” With her task in hand, she took the hat back and donned it. His voice filled her with comfort.

“How do I get there?” she asked. “The problem is that magic is not always reliable. It may be that that that he is not as smart as we give him credit. If that’s the case head east to the second town, you will find him there if not look for something out of place. That is how magic shifts and bends” his eyes turned to look out a window, “I am needed elsewhere.” with that he leapt out the window.

She descended the stairs. Starting a walk through her beloved forest. Thoughts of Frick cooking back in the cabin floated into her head. The forest offered her small creatures to eat, but she was concerned she would never have another delicious meal. She was hungry, so the forest provided some fruit and berries. She ate as she walked deep into the night. It was late, but she decided to stop for some rest. She put up her bubble just as a black creature was attacking it. She had trouble seeing it as it shifted against the darkness. May paid it no mind, setting up her tent and getting some rest, her hat clutched close to her.

She awoke to birdsong. Her heart fluttered with it. Frick’s absence added a melancholy to the beauty; she savored it. When she put the hat on, his voice comforted her further.” I want to talk to you, Frick. I miss you,” she said flatly to the hat. She was beginning to feel the loneliness that her trip demanded of her. She needed to go talk to the forest. After stepping out of her tent, as she cleaned up her space, she asked the forest, “Has the sun helped you grow this morning?”

The forest responded from several different points of view. “Growing hearty. Love felt. Save Frick.”

“Chatty today are you.” She said putting her pack on her shoulders,

“we missed you.” it said in the foliage.

She smiled. “I miss our time together too but…”

May looked up to see the bark saying “save Frick.”

“I love Frick, with your help I will have him with me again.”

She started walking, “We love Frick” it told her.“Fire quencher. May’s love. The forest’s love”the forest explained.

“Are you talking about the time he used the ocean to put out a forest fire? The Forest’s pain is my own. He had to do something.” Her recollections brought tears to her old eyes. The forest knew just how to make her feel better. They offered her, her favorite fruit, for breakfast. She ate on the way, saving up energy for a fight with this former prince.

“The prince hurts.” the trees said as if hearing the hat. “His trees. His growth. Gone.”

“Why what happened and why would he do it to Frick?” she begged

“The trees. We are lost.” Saying it does not know, in its own way.

They walked for a while, chatting back and forth about the forest’s interests. It was hard for humans to grasp the words of the forest. Even harder for a hat, as the sun rose to the highest point, the forest pointed her to “a group of your own kind.” It was the next town, and many people here bustled about looking for something to do if they weren’t already on their way to their important appointments. Some people did stop and stare at the octogenarian woman in shining, bright armor. It reminded her of when her body was at its finest. She felt young, so she walked into the nearest inn and bar. Her legs could use a rest, and her mind needed a shot of whiskey.

She sat at the bar and handed the barkeep some coins, asking for her shot. He provided it wordlessly, and she drank it quickly. This particular bar is a place to meet people; that must be why, some people she knew, walked in. It was an Arcane Disciple from this town, Zekka. Her long black hair and well-buttressed bosom gave her a confidence that other women never had, or maybe it was magic.

“You were looking at her Bosom?!” May whispered her exasperation.That was her giveaway.

“May? What are you doing in our little town?” she asked, turning around on the stool. “And Where is dear Frick?”

“Frick is in his hat.”May said again, reminding her of her grief all over again.

“Did the old fool mess with a power he had no business being a part of?” she said, grabbing the old hat, off her head. Zekka sat on the stool next to May; her sharp features were too youthful for May’s liking.