“Ma’am- Ma’am please listen. We can’t-” Marco tried to say amiably.

  “Just get rid of him!” The crone screeched. “That’s your bleeding job isn’t it?! Getting rid of things?! Just do it!”

  Marco and the pillar of the community, Mrs. Petunia, stood knee deep in a flower garden that spanned nearly two acres. Ivy, Heracles, Yesenia and Capreva stood idle nearby. Partaking in varying degrees of enjoyment at Marcos failing de-escalation attempts. The subject of this “getting rid of” stood far to nearby for that kind of talk. His brow was arched in worry, his legs rooted by fear, poor things hands only weren’t trembling because he was clutching tight to a staff of firm wood.

  Now let it be known the rod was the shaft of a rather severe looking scythe. But it might as well have been a stick of pasta by how much harm its wielder seemed capable. It was very tall, thin and lanky, dressed in plain workman’s clothes and scruffy boots. The only remarkable feature of this fellow was that the hair on its head wasn’t hair at all. It was straw. Green and lively at the roots but growing straight up, it quickly became the dry fodder all farm animals enjoy.

  Marco let his voice raise slightly to the old matron. “Ma’am. We don’t kill polviks.”

  Mrs. Petunia threw her hands up in the air. “I never said kill you fang bitten brute! I said get rid of him! Don’t you dare put words into my mouth son cause I swear on your mama I’ll bite!”

  “Is it at possible for me to uh… weigh in?” The aforementioned polvik posited.

  Mrs. Petunia whipped around. “You hush up hay for brains! I’ve heard plenty!”

  Marco watched with pity as the polvik nodded obediently and lowered his head. “Listen… Ma’am, we can’t just run something off if it hasn’t done anything.”

  “He’s threatening my livelihood!” The old woman bellowed her voice becoming horse.

  Ivy took a few steps forward into the garden and clapped her hands to draw all attention to herself. “How’s about you start by explaining to us how this polvik is harming you in any way, my lady?”

  Mrs. Petunia looked ready to burst. “Isn’t it obvious, stupid girl!”

  Ivy maintained her trademark smile through her rising blood pressure and barely squeezed out. “No ma’am. It is not.”

  The crone sneered and gestured at the polvik without looking at him. “Look at it. It has a fang bitten scythe.”

  “They.” Yesenia called out while making notes in a small book. “They have a scythe.”

  Mrs. Petunia whirled around in disbelief. “There are more!?” There still was only the one polvik.

  “No it’s- actually forget it.” Yesenia said returning to silent writing.

  “Ma’am, back to the scythe. Are you scared of him- Them? Did they threaten you…bodily?” Marco asked desperate to understand.

  “No, you rat brained bulls pile. He’s threatening my flowers!” She pointed an accusing finger at the polvik.

  Capreva spoke from his place on Lilys hind. “It… cut your flowers for you?”

  “No! He-“ Mrs. Petunia paused. She turned slowly, like a cautious owl, and took the polvik in her gaze fully.

  It smiled nervously, showing a bit too much teeth and waved at the crone.

  The old woman watched them and contemplated for what seemed like ages then fast as a flicker said. “You all can go.” And began to hobble to her cabin.

  Ivy stood totally befuddled. “But you-“

  “Leave. I said leave.” Mrs. Petunia waved them off. “Jobs done, don’t need him gone no more.”

  Ivy clenched her jaw until her teeth creaked and started to march after the old bag. “After all of that. How dare-“

  Marcos and fell firmly on Ivy’s shoulder, stopping her march. Ivy let out a breath on the verge of a growl, fiendish fire growing behind her eyes. Marco stayed resilient against the heat.

  “Come on. Jobs done just like she said.” Marco said calmly.

  Ivy looked at Mrs. Petunia with pure contempt. The old woman hardly noticed, focused on the free labor she could now benefit from by the exploitation of fey spirits. Ivy let out a sharp exhale from her nostrils, like a ten-ton bull. Then she relented. Stomping petulantly as she followed. Capreva, Heracles and Yesenia joined the exodus from the garden in anxious quiet. Well, not Yesenia. Yesenia was just quiet.

  For nearly half their journey back to Apie Fields proper none spoke. Ears only accompanied by the dull foot falls on the well-worn path and the occasional bird call. Though Capreva was used to being alone with the sounds of nature, they sensed the tension in the air. Heat radiated off Ivy, arms crossed and teeth gritting. Marco trod forward unaware or maybe uncaring.

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  Caprevas reedy voice broke the silence “Those… Those flowers seemed…. Very happy.” Said with a nervous chuckle.

  “Figures.” Ivy said as sharp as a spear. “Old crow ought to know how to treat at least one entity of this world. Because clearly, she has no love for her fellow man.”

  Marco sighed and shook his head. “She’s old. That’s just how she is.”

  “And? So if she were thirty summers younger, you’d have allowed me to speak? Is the age of the bully truly that important?” Ivy retorted. “Yesenia is likely that many years her senior and they still act civilly.”

  “Hey.” Yesenia said with cold offence. “Don’t call me civil.”

  “Ivy, you know that isn’t fair. Elf brains… work different” Marco said.

  “Work better.” Yesenia jabbed.

  Ivy huffed. “This Mrs. Petunias attitude wasn’t fair. Even less fair that you didn’t let me tell her that.”

  “Could you just drop it?” Marco said sternly.

  Now squeezing her bicep like a vice, Ivy bit back her tongue and reluctantly nodded. They returned to their silence. Capreva rung their hands as they looked to the ground. Anxious at the tension but more anxious at the prospect of another argument.

  Heracles’ voice boomed out once they drew close to town. “So uh, what are we hunting next?”

  Marco crossed his arms. “Somethings been stirring up trouble on hunting paths. Grot said the signs of it are leading toward Naros place. But before anything else, we gotta go to Krowas.”

  Heracles brightened out of his autopilot stupor. “We’re going to Krowas? Do you think he’s-“

  Marco cut him off. “He’s told you every time you ask. He doesn’t know how to make sword gauntlets.”

  Heracles slumped his broad shoulders. “I drew designs up for him…”

  “You can draw?” Capreva asked the beetle.

  Heracles nodded and brightened again. “Mostly weapon plans. I used to bring my drawings to the black smith back home.”

  “Did they ever make them for you?” Capreva asked, tilting their head to the side.

  “He would!” Heracles responded excitedly. ”One time he made this three bladed sword for me. They were in like a triangle shape. It was real heavy, but I liked it. None of your blacksmiths here are as good as he was”

  Ivy’s temper cooled enough for her to crack a grin. “This blacksmith sounds like a true friend and a skilled artisan. Why do you bare no weapons from him?”

  The boy dimmed and took a moment to look up at the pale blue sky before answering. “I’m… not allowed…it’s a desert thing…”

  Yesenia quietly removed a hand from their cloak and laid it on Heracles’ shoulder. Needing to raise their arm quite high to achieve even that.

  Ivy’s brows rose almost to her horns at the sight. “…I see. Well, mayhap I could attempt to convince this Krowa to take another look at your designs.”

  Heracles chittered and nodded. “Thanks Ivy…” He pat his large hand on Yesenias. The elf still looking frigid even in a moment of compassion.

  Just as the conversation was ending Marco halted the group in front of a very small building. Much more porch than interior, with neatly positioned and tidy workstations lining the outdoor whole of the space. A forge lay cold and clean of ash, quenching trough filled with crystal clear water, even the coal pile was clean of trademark black dust. And sparkling resplendently beside the base of a midnight black statue of a minotaur was a great axe to make the gods weep.

  The etchings on the axe head looked as though they were from a painting. The way the smoothly curving tendrils were depicted, ending in sharp sudden points gave the idea of both a tangled thicket as well as a elks proud rack. Ivy longed to feel the weight of that chunk of metal art in her hands. To feel just how perfectly weighted she knew it must be. Just as she was noticing the stain work on the handle Marco stepped up into the porch forge.

  “… I told you not to get all fancy with it.” Marco said to thin air.

  A voice so deep and rumbling it could only be compared to a mammoth sized bumble bee lulled out lazily. “Sorry… I got carried away…”

  Ivy’s eyes darted around the forge for the source of the voice like grinding granite. She was hard-pressed to pinpoint it’s origin, until it stood up. The “statue” once sitting as still as anything, now began to rise from its chair. It towered over even Heracles. Its upturned thick horns almost scraped the ceiling and its short coat of fur was as black as the void. Staring upon this minotaur made you think it could actually be The Horned Horror himself standing before you.

  The minotaur reached down and lifted the axe. It looked like nothing more than a hatchet in its massive blocky hands. “I can…. Remake it. If you want.”

  Marco strolled forward with no fear of the looming giant. “Gods no.” He took the axe looking like a child getting a toy from his father. “it’ll be hard to clean out between these grooves though.”

  Ivy’s eyes were locked on the form of the villain from so many story books. She could hardly keep her heart from racing in a cocktail of fear and exuberance. She took an uneasy step backwards, nearly knocking the unaware Yesenia over.

  Yesenia righted themselves and glanced up annoyed. “Please watch where you’re…” Their eyes drifted up. Over the red horned creature and to the black horned creature. “Oh.”

  Krowa and Marco shifted their attention to the wide-eyed Ivy, all while Capreva passed unnoticed towards the smithing tools with glee.

  The minotaur furrowed his brow and rumbled out. “Is everything alright… are you well…”

  The adrenaline spike from that creature looking her way loosened Ivys faculties enough to choke out. “W…well, Yes I’m…I’m well. I’m just-“

  “She’s religious.” Yesenia said flat as a pancake. “You know how dogma gets ahold of people, being what you are.”

  Ivy shot a look of abject shock at Yesenia, that quickly pivoted to shameful yet cautious look at the hulking figure.

  “Yes… I understand…” He scratched the nape of his neck. “No worries at all miss…I know I scare people…”

  Ivys shame nudged her fear aside. “No no, truly it is my place to apologize. You just… frightened me…briefly, that is.”

  Heracles chuckled and punched Ivys shoulder. “Aww, scared mean ole Krowas gonna make fun of your little horns.”

  A red fist slammed into the bugs chitinous chest. “You dare!” Ivy roared.

  The roar was follewed by a laugh like a rock bouncing down a hill. “Your horns will grow… don’t worry…”

  Ivy looked up at the kind eyes and soft smile of the bull’s face. She matched the smile and rolled her eyes dramatically. “I do doubt they’ll ever grow to match yours, blacksmith. Though it’s possible. Stories say my grandfather owned a set to rival The Horned Horror himself.”

  Krowa laughed once more. “Must have been quite the horns…”

  As the others laughed and jested, Yesenia looked towards Marco practicing with the weight of his new axe. Then spoke just loud enough for him to hear. “So Krowa, how is it living in Apie Fields. Are you often mistaken for a servant of a dark god?”

  Marcos smile fell from his face.

  “Oh gods no.” he waved both massive hands. “Things here aren’t like the rest of Breged… Me and Ryba are proof of that… Long as you’re good people… Nothing else matters much…”

  Yesenia looked at Marco condescendingly. “Is that a fact?”

  Krowa nodded not noticing the tension growing. “Of course it is…”

  Marco rejoined the group and clapped Krowa on the arm. “The axe is perfect, but I never doubted. I’d keep a good eye on your stock though. My little buds been having a time hard understanding “property”.”

  Krowa turned as he rumbled. “Little bud...?” Then he saw the little twig blight with an arm and tail full of arrows attempting to mosey out the back.

  Krowa let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched shriek at Capreva. They halted in their path for merely an instant before Heracles and Ivy sprung into action. This delighted Capreva and soon enough the two meatheads were locked in a game of tag with an opponent a quarter their size and thrice their speed.

  Marco made his way to Yesenia and unlike them, kept his voice down. “There a problem, wizard?”

  Yesenia let out a well-practiced mocking giggle. “When you say it, it sounds like a slur. Probably your tone.”

  After a sharp intake and slow outtake, Marco spoke. “Don’t use Krowa to get at me. He don’t deserve that.”

  “So now I can’t ask questions?” Yesenia said probingly.

  “You know what you were doing.”

  “I was genuinely curious. The naga was one thing, but I fail to see how your primitive mind justifies getting your weapons from a minotaur.” Yesenias voice slashed out.

  “Rybas not… Listen they aren’t-“

  Yesenia cleaved with their ice edged voice. “Aren’t just a naga and a minotaur? I know that. Where do you think most of them went when you ousted them. I know they’re people. Its your faith that thinks they aren’t”

  Marco clapped back. “So that’s what this is about? You’re throwing a tantrum over religion?”

  Yesenia scoffed. “Please. It isn’t a tantrum if I’m right.”

  “As much as I know you’d like to keep this going forever, we’ve got a bitten job to do. We can talk over whatever this is, after.” Marco turned and walked towards Krowa.

  “I will be counting the seconds, Barbarian” Yesenia grinned.

  Marco let out a sigh as he offered a pouch to Krowa, who was still anxiously watching the chase occurring in his place of business. “Should cover the axe and the arrows, take care.” Then shouted to the melee. “First one to the cottage gets first crack at the monster.”

  All three halted and eyed each other. Then Heracles bolted towards the woods but Lily entered stage right and blocked the beetle with her own mass. He shouted accusations and curses as Ivy used him as a stepping stool to mount her steed. Capreva, still holding a bundle of arrows as heavy as they were, vanished into the woods before Lily could reach her top speed. Heracles blitzed after once he shook off his confusion.

  Marco and Yesenia followed in silence.

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