Crone
Crone
Bartel closed his front door, cutting off the cold wind that tried to steal his warmth. He didn’t remember there being any snow lately, but no, this was natural; why wouldn’t it be snowing right now?
The wind howled outside while he brushed the snow from his shoulders and unwrapped the scarf from around his face. Hanging his scarf and goggles on a coat rack by the door, he marveled at the intricate details on the rack. How had he never noticed their beauty before? It was like he had never seen this rack despite living here for years.
While he was lost trying to understand why he hadn’t noticed a part of his own home before, a knock came at the door. Bartel scowled. Why would anyone be trying to visit him during this storm? He remembered the mysterious man who had approached him months ago and offered him paradise for his loyalty. Had the man returned to collect? Surely it was too soon? Bartel hadn’t finished getting people out of the way yet. It would be so much easier if the girl hadn’t managed to get a class somehow.
Cracking the door open, Bartel peeked out to see who it was. To his relief, the strange man wasn’t there to inform him that it was time for whatever dangerous task he had in mind. Instead, there was an old crone wrapped in rags.
“Please, can you spare me a place by your fire to wait out this snow?” the crone warbled.
Bartel paused for a moment. There was a lot of snow falling right now, but there were still people about. If he accepted and let her in, others might see.
“I don’t have room for you, wench. Go find some bleeding heart to bother,” he yelled so everyone could hear. Then, in a lower voice, he said, “If you really need a place to shelter, go around back.”
Bartel knew he was putting everything in danger by offering to help this crone, but her life was no less valuable than any other, and he’d taken an oath to protect the people of Tineak.
The crone looked at him with her mouth slightly open. He had been doing this job long enough to recognize when someone slipped in an act due to an unexpected event. Shit, was this woman a spy here to test him for the mysterious man? Or did she simply want to gain pity from the people watching when he denied her? Regardless, his guard was up.
The crone’s face returned to normal so fast that Bartel almost thought he had imagined it.
“Thank you, kind sir.” she croaked in a voice no one but he could hear.
“Be gone!” Bartel roared before slamming the door.
Bartel took a moment to consider his next move. Going around to let the crone in through the back would be the honorable thing to do, but could he afford to be honorable anymore? Thinking quickly he came up with a plan before heading to the back of his home to let the woman in.
When Bartel reached a back door he didn’t remember having until he invited the crone to meet him there, he opened it to see the same wizened woman standing in the bitter cold.
“Get in before all the heat leaves.”
“Thank you for your kindness, good sir.”
The crone stepped in and sat by the fire that was already burning in the fireplace right next to the door.
Bartel turned away from the blank wall next to the fireplace to look at the crone sitting in a comfortable chair by the harth. She had removed her scarf and goggles while he wasn’t looking revealing her wizened face and limp gray hair.
“Who are you,” Bartel demanded of the crone.
The crone cackled at his question.
“You have a sharp eye, boy. Tell you what. Let's play a game. We’ll take turns asking each other questions. Every question must be answered truthfully, or the game ends. Are you interested?”
It was a pointless game since there was no way of knowing if the other person lied, but Bartel might be able to get some information, so he readily agreed.
“Very well, you may have the first question.” the crone said with a warm smile.
“Who are you?”
“I have many names and titles. The name you may know me by is Tyix.”
Bartel reeled at the name. He did know it; he had heard whispers of a black classer child by that name for the past few months. All the guards had been informed to look for this elusive Lady Tyix, though the reports said they were a child.
“Now it’s my turn; why didn’t you want people to know you were willing to offer a stranger shelter in a snowstorm?”
“Simple, I planned to rob you and…”
“I said no Lying.” the crone interrupted him mid-explanation. “I’ll let this attempt pass, but don’t test me. You won't like it.”
Bartel gulped at her words. Before, she had seemed like a harmless old woman, but now he could clearly feel a wrongness about her that had been hiding just under the surface. He would need to tell the truth for now and only lie when it mattered. Hopefully, he could hide it if she wasn’t expecting it.
“I did it because I need to maintain my reputation.”
The crone was looking at him so intently it made him uncomfortable. Finally, she nodded.
“Ask me your next question.”
Plenty of questions ran through his head, but he wasn’t sure how long this game would last, so he needed to choose the best ones while he found a way to capture the crone.
“What was your goal in approaching me tonight?”
“How fun! You’ve cut right to the heart of the matter. I wanted to see what kind of man you were. You telling me to sneak around back came as quite the surprise.”
“Why would you…”
“Only one question. It's my turn now.”
Bartel gritted his teeth.
“Fine.”
“You’re removing the honest guards from your quarter to protect them, aren't you?”
Bartel mastered his expression, letting nothing out.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not your turn to ask questions. Answer me with a simple yes or no. You’re removing the honest guards from your quarter to protect them, aren’t you?”
Bartel had no choice but to try and lie.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking, so no.”
“And with that lie, our game is over,” the crone cackled.
Bartel refused to give anything away. There was a chance she was trying to get him to reveal the truth by pretending she already knew. It was a tactic he had used before on prisoners. Bartel opened his mouth to protest, but before any words could escape, the crone stood, and pressure slammed down on him.
“Despite your lies, you pass my test.”
As the crone spoke, she changed. Her limp gray hair gained color and cascaded down her back, her wizened face lost all wrinkles, and her thin frame filled out. Mere moments after the transformation started, a beautiful young woman with golden hair and a pure white dress was floating in the middle of his home.
“Well done, mortal. You have passed my test by showing your dedication to protecting the good at the cost of your own reputation. So I will aid you in guarding this city. Ask what it is you need, and if it is in my power, you will have it.”
Bartel stared at the beautiful apparition, his mind far behind, as he tried to process what was happening. She was offering to help him, but why? What could she even do? Unsure what to do or say, Bartel froze.
“I see you are having trouble knowing what to ask for,” the beautiful apparition said, sighing. Then let me give you three options. I can offer you the power of a class, though that does carry risks. I can give you forbidden or secret knowledge on a single topic, or I can offer you gold.”
Falling to his knees under the pressure this being exserted, Bartel couldn’t stop himself from asking the only thing on his mind.
“Are you a goddess?”
The goddess shook her head.
“No, and be grateful I’m not.”
She must be a servant of the gods then. And as he realized that, he knew what he wanted from her.
“Please help me find a way to survive what's coming!”
Bartel wanted to save the innocent and protect the people of this city, but as the time came closer for the mysterious man to put his plan into action, he found that he also desperately wanted to live.
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