The Last Hunter
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Legacy of Evil: The Dancing Hut Unleashed
🕑 Added 2024-04-27 07:30:47 +0000 UTCThe food was ready. As it all came together, the doll made me a bowl and held it out expectantly and I gingerly took it, feeling compelled to speak aloud.
"Thank you."
Unchanging as her expression was, I had the impression that if she could, she'd be beaming right about now. Still at this point, I was halfway expecting Baba Yaga to yell 'psych!' in my face or for Thatch to have poisoned it or something.
I looked back at it again, unsure and took a cautious sniff. I admit, it smelled really good, but again... Baba Yaga. I think under the circumstances, a little caution wasn't exactly something to avoid, and I looked back at Thatch and the Doll, both giving me identical impressions of expectation.
I took out my wand in return and tapped it on the edge of the bowl as I murmured. "Revelio."
My power scanned the bowl, examined the food and to my surprise, I got something. Somehow, in between the cooking and the process therein, it had converted into a potion. But the ingredients were all the same and I was absolutely sure that I didn't see Thatch sneak in anything.
"How the devil...?" I murmured, surprised for once and Baba Yaga cackled in my mind.
"Eat, child. Grandmothers food will give you strength and insight for what's to come."
"That in no way makes me feel better." I retorted before finally sighing and giving a little toast of my bowl to the other two.
"To your health I suppose." And I took a bite.
And another.
And another, till I was done with the bowl as I let it settle and blinked.
And to my surprise, my senses had expanded. There was a door where none had been. What had been a hut that was dead and stagnant, had become something new entirely. The empty bird cages above our heads were full, wisps of spiritual lights in the form of birds singing sweetly as I looked around at the walls. The colorations that seemed to cascade, the bundled herbs that had taken on a new life and the cauldron where the food had been cooked, glowing bright as odd-looking runes that looked Scandinavian in origin appeared around the cauldron. Thatch was happy, clapping his hands as he danced clumsily back and forth with the doll as Baba Yaga spoke smugly into my mind.
"Only those I invite as my guests, may see my Hut as it is. You have cleaned my home; you have partaken of my food. You may now move around as you will. And as you do? So too shall my Hut."
"Wait, what?" I said swiftly as the entire thing lurched and I almost fell over.
"We moving! We going to the old world!" Cheered Thatch as he cried out. "Thatch has much to prepare!" And he snapped his fingers, vanishing in a crack as we lurched again and I ran over to the window to look.
Out on the shores, the curious folk who had seen the Hut drawn out of the lake were excited, stirring and pointing as the Hut shook itself like a dog waking up. One foot moved up, heading for the water and I prepared a bubble head charm but I needn't have bothered.
Before its foot could hit the surface, ice formed a platform that it could land on, as it took another, clumsy step that froze under its foot.
And another and another, as it began to pick up speed.
"Oh shit." I said suddenly, bracing myself as the Hut began to run. Something this big should not be this graceful, and yet against all convention it was. It ran full speed, completely at ease and uncaring of the possibility of it falling as I realized it was smoother than I thought, but still bumpy as I began to get the hang of it. Almost like a dance, skipping across the floor to get to one side of the room or the other which had me realize-the name.
Was that how it got the name? And then suddenly it crouched briefly and leaped, soaring over the head of the suddenly, panicking crowd as we landed with a crash and kept going. As we did, there was a rumble of thunder and three streaks of light flew down from the skies, keeping pace with the Hut as we ran for the forest.
From my position at the door, I got a better look at what could only be the Three Riders. The fiery Mongol all in red was familiar to me, but it was the other two that got my immediate attention.
Bright Morning, the White Rider was an anachronism. A calvary saber at his hip, his uniform was Napoleonic in origin, or I was Harry Potter. Gold and white were the foundation colors of his outfit, whatever medals and ranks he might have had long since lost or discarded by him. A truly impressive mustache adorned his face, ice blue eyes piercing beneath the brim of his officer's hat as an ancient brace of pistols made up the rest of his open weapons. His horse like the name, was a snow white and where its hooves hit the ground, frost formed.
Dark Midnight, the Black Rider looked far more like what I was expecting honestly. Ancient plate armor, a helm hiding his features as a sword adorned his hip. The helm itself was forged to look like a snarling bear skull, currently closed and blackened like it had all been burned together. His horse looked like a demon and where the hooves hit the ground, the earth withered and rotted away. Like an honor guard, they escorted the hut and said nothing, though Bright Morning smiled and did a little salute before they all split apart and galloped back for the school.
As I watched them go, I asked aloud. "What was that all about?"
"My children are all good boys and girls. If there was a thief in my home, they had instructions to deal with them."
".... Oh." I said quietly, thinking back to my first encounter with Red Sun. I had a bad enough time facing him, the idea of facing all three riders at once made me wary before I asked.
"How did they know I was a guest?" Baba Yaga's voice in reply was scornful.
"You ask the questions that are obvious. You can do better than that, Salazar's folly."
And she was quiet.
Around at that point, the Hut hit the tree line and instead of smashing into it all, something else amazing happened. Long before we would come, the trees themselves seemed to pick themselves up, move out of the way and return none the worse for wear as we ran on by. As if the forest itself was marking a path and all we had to do was run along it, the gait smoother now as I stepped back and eyed the cauldron.
The runes had stopped glowing but now that I knew what to look for, I could examine it and see what exactly had been done to me. I strode around it, carefully looking it over and when I was done, I found myself impressed and chagrined in hindsight.
I was right in two respects. One, it was Scandinavian. Second, it was also tied into guest rights. By fulfilling my obligation as a guest in cleaning as well as accepting the food, I had accepted a geas. An old-world spell, along the lines of an unbreakable vow but lessened due to the nature it was given, but at the same time more stable and empowered.
The cauldron was the real magical artifact, the food itself could have been anything. The important part was that it was cooked in the cauldron and then eaten, as part of the acceptance. As a guest, it meant the Hut would do no undue harm to myself, but at the same time I'd be limited as to what I could do. But it was also the only way to dispel the illusions and defenses initially, but something bothered me too.
For now however, I'd put my suspicion on hold. I had work to do and I turned to the door that had appeared, checking the knob as I opened it and found myself staring at a hallway.
I stepped inside, the doll trotting quietly behind me and I crouched and offered a hand as she paused and did a little curtsy before she lifted herself up and positioned herself. As I rose up, I now had the doll sitting on my shoulder as I asked with a wry smile.
"Comfortable?"
Her hands smoothed her skirt, she nodded, and I spoke. "I'm going to need help finding the control area. Which way?"
She pointed directly ahead and with wand in hand, I headed down and counting in my head, what had seemed like a short walk was actually twenty paces before I found myself in a rotunda.
There was an actual, living tree in the center of it, albeit dry and devoid of leaves and the rest was set up as a garden area. I was reminded of a part in Hogwarts legacy, the Room of Requirement when it came to rescuing magical beasts. The area you would keep them, a sunlit filled natural area as magical plants grew wild in areas that I identified off the top of my head as the sort used in potions. There was a stone path as well, well cared for and clear which immediately had my hackles raised.
Thatch wouldn't have been here, so who-?
"Oh. Are you granny's guest?"
I turned, startled and blinked at the sight before me. I suppose I found my mysterious gardener.
She was a small thing, eleven to thirteen years old to my eyes. Her hair was a dirty blonde, tied back in a ponytail beneath a straw hat she wore on her head. Her hands held a bucket, her feet were bare and dirt stained as her fingers.
Her ears were tapered to a point at the end, but otherwise she looked like a child to me. And then the doll waved, and I decided to trust the doll as I nodded.
"Yes, I am. Forgive my rudeness." I removed my hat, sketching a little bow as I spoke. "Tom Riddle, at your service. And whom exactly, am I speaking to?"
She perked up, looking a little happier as she spoke. "I'm Svetlana. It's been a while since I've seen anyone here or had any help. Could you help me please?"
"Well, I can try." I said as I asked. "What seems to be the problem?"
She looked down for a moment, then up as she held the bucket up for inspection.
"I'm the gardener for granny. I need to water the whole garden, but it's too much for me. Could you help me please?"
I looked around the garden.
It was an expansive thing, with only a single bucket and one fountain which I presumed was the source of water. If I stayed, I'd could be here for gods know how long. And of course, there was also the geas in effect; if I refused, would that make me a bad guest? I wasn't too keen to test that out just yet, and I was wary of a trick too.
Thankfully, I was a wizard as I spoke without hesitation. "Of course I can. Let me see what I can do."
I approached the fountain, looking it over carefully-it seemed to be nothing more than an ordinary example of its kind, which immediately had me suspicious as I tried to scoop up the water with my hands.
And before my eyes, the water retreated from my fingers as if it was alive.
I produced a cup, tried to do it again and once more, it fled from my attempts. I tried to lift it with my wand, it refused to so much as twitch.
Svetlana who had been watching spoke up helpfully.
"You need the bucket to scoop the water up. It's the only thing that does it."
".... And there's only one?" I asked and she nodded without guile.
I nodded back, contemplative before I asked. "So how do you usually water the garden?" For some reason, her expression turned glum as she spoke.
"I don't. I do as much as I can and by the time I'm done, I have to do it all over again. Until I can water the entire garden properly, I'm to stay here and care for grannies garden."
"Sounds to me like you need more help." I reply as I flick my wand and produce a number of instruments floating in midair. The doll and Svetlana looked around in confusion as I had the instruments tune up, and at their directed expressions my way I said simply.
"It didn't feel right, to do this next bit of magic without the music. Please, enjoy the show."
I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. I can sense Baba Yaga's curiosity now, as the doll leaps off my shoulder and goes to Svetlana's lap, who hugs her tightly and rolling up my sleeves I tap gently to get my instruments attention.
Before the music starts, the opening notes of the 'Sorcerer's Apprentice' by Paul Dukas heard for the first time as I begin to multiply the bucket again and again.
I keep going, my wand moving as if I'm conducting as I use it as a mnemonic tactic for the magic I wish to bring to life. If magic is creation, wanting to be free than I focus on the shape I want, the intention behind it that goes beyond mere words. And then at a particular part, I stop...
I point my wand at the buckets which begins to twitch. Arms and legs sprout out, the small army of buckets rising in unison like little soldiers as they begin to march and move in single file. In rows, they come to the fountain and scoop up water, leaping out and making their way as I nod in satisfaction.
Only the bucket could touch the water?
What a positively interesting loophole. I hum along, I keep my wand moving as the buckets move back and forth in a constant patrol. The garden becomes more lush, greener suddenly and I wonder if that's part of the magic. Svetlana let's out a startled laugh as she looks around, crying aloud in hope.
"It's working! It's working!"
I smile, the music continuing as the formerly dry tree before my eyes grows more healthy. Until finally, it looks as if its in the prime of its life as Svetlana let's out a cry.
"I can go home to momma! Thank you, thank you!"
And she runs for the tree without looking back, arms open for an embrace as a doorway forms and opens as she calls out.
"Momma, momma!"
I catch a glimpse of something, pale arms adorned with silk and jewelry scooping her up and with a peal of delighted laughter, Svetlana is gone.
As the music ends, I pause and then vanish the buckets save the original as it converts back. The instruments are gone and I ask.
"Who was she?"
Baba Yaga is quiet at first, before her voice speaks in my mind.
"A bargain struck with a queen icy of heart, to teach her a lesson in that which is most dear to her."
"She wasn't human, was she?" I ask and Baba Yaga's reply is amused.
"Can you say the same of yourself, Tom Riddle?"
I'm quiet at that, pausing briefly to pick up the doll as she points in the distance.
A new door has appeared.
Time to follow to wherever it may lead.
Comments
Wildebranch
Tom to the children at home: And that, kids, is how I became friends with the Sidhe and their Queen.
