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The woods were quiet today.
A gentle mist hung in the air, and Whisper pulled her cloak tighter around herself. Worn and stained by mud as it was, Whisper adored it, and yet, it was beginning to grow too small. Her duty to the Unknown had made her larger in size, and she was still adjusting to a slower, more bulky body.
Ironic, that eating the turtles has made me more turtle-like yet, Whisper thought dryly, and abandoned attempting to clasp her cloak. She would simply have to have another one made on her return to the cottage.
The cottage. She was loath to leave dear Lorna on her own, as volatile as she was when unsupervised. Prior to embarking on the trip, Whisper had mixed an especially long slumbering draught, intent on having her young one sleep through her absence. She had to fool the girl into drinking it, a move that Whisper found regretful, but it was for the best.
Or at least she kept telling herself that.
Following an oft untravelled path through the glen, she moved with patience, but once the trees began to thin and give way to the wheat of the Pasture, she felt a great unease rise in her core. Adelaide, Whisper’s younger sister, had sent word to her that she wanted to call a gathering. As much as Whisper distrusted Adelaide, she suspected that for once, she might be able to work a favor out of her. Adelaide studied magics that were foreign to Whisper, woven spells that bound and obstructed... perhaps she might have a cure for what ailed Lorna.
Approaching the cottage in the pasture, one much smaller than her own, the unease grew further still. It showed subtle signs of weather wear and lack of upkeep, and Whisper wondered if perhaps her sister was there at all. Much as the thought gave her hope, Whisper knocked on the door anyway.
“Come in!” said a sharp voice, and at her invitation, Whisper pushed her way into the cottage, having to duck considerably as she entered. “Close the door at once, sister, the eve shall soon fall.” Adelaide had not looked up from her knitting, but Whisper abided by the request.
As the door closed, Whisper asked, voice gravelly, “For what reason does the eve irk you, sister? Do you no longer remember the spellcasting nights of our youth?”
Whisper meant it half-jokingly, and yet as the words left her sunken mouth, Adelaide finally looked up and let out a shriek, huddling into the quilt on her bed in fear. “What manner of monster is this! You mimic the voice of my sister, creature?”
“Peace, Adelaide,” Whisper grumbled, now irked. “My duty to the Unknown has stricken my visage, I’m afraid. If you fear me still, ask me the name of our other sister. Then you will have no reason to doubt.”
Adelaide’s features wrinkled, but she relaxed, waving her hand dismissively. “Unnecessary, dear sister. What duty have you to the Unknown that has... gnarled you so, Whisper?”
Whisper shuffled further into the house, finally easing herself into a rocking chair that, while made for someone much smaller than she, begrudgingly accommodated her bulk. “We can talk of such things later, Adelaide. I did not travel all this distance for us to small-talk, young one.”
“‘Young one’, you flatter me,” Adelaide said, her voice sickly sweet. “Well, Whisper, as you asked, it has to do with why I fear the fall of evening. I have been experimenting with new magics, and while I owe for my power having grown, it has also weakened me quite severely. I can no longer venture out into the night air, it does quite deathly things to my complexion. And I do mean deathly.”
Whisper felt her curiosity piqued. Adelaide was clearly leaving out a detail of the story, but Whisper could perhaps pull on that thread later. “So you ask me to brew you some sort of remedy, sister? I do not know if one exists. Your condition, if it be that, is rather unique.”
Whisper sighed and leaned back, causing her chair to rock and squeak pathetically. “Regardless, I have not had much time for brewing, as of late. I have taken on a young one, Adelaide, who proves to be quite readily a handful.”
Adelaide adjusted her glasses and looked up at Whisper with discerning features, much akin to a hawk’s. “A young one? Do go on, Whisper. I never figured you for the maternal sort.”
“Not quite maternal, the dear thing calls me ‘Auntie Whispers’.” Adelaide barked out a laugh at that, but Whisper continued, “Her name is Lorna, and her poor parents brought her to me, as she was quite ill and possessed of a rather terrible disposition. They spoke of how, when she is around strangers, she becomes overtaken by a dark sort of spirit who drives her to wickedness, and consumes the strangers quite terribly.
“They hoped I might be able to make some cure for her, but I have never encountered such an illness in all my years of practice. None of my potions or tinctures have worked in dispelling her condition. Regardless, I offered to keep the girl with me until I could cure her. She makes it quite difficult, however. Lorna is a sweet thing, but she is young and curious. She frequently leaves the house to traverse the woods. Nearly every time, she will return with bloodied lips and gore staining her attire, and it wears on my patience. As much as I attempt to keep her from leaving, for her own sake, I fear she’s grown to resent me.”
Adelaide was uncharacteristically quiet. She absentmindedly took some of her loose yarn and made a cat’s cradle as she pondered Whisper’s words. Pushing her luck, she asked, “If I am to brew a remedy for you, you could potentially aid me with a sort of binding spell?”
Adelaide cackled at that, but it was a dark one that made Whisper wary. “My dear sister, if you need your child servant to be obedient, simply fill her little head with wool! She’ll obey your every command without question.” She finished with a grin that made Whisper feel sicker than after a full meal of turtle meat.
“Adelaide, wicked thing, she be not my servant at all! I care deeply for the girl, and it is my responsibility to cure her, not erase her brain!”
“Are you sure?” Adelaide wheedled. “I know you get lonely in that big house of yours, Whisper. Are you sure that if you cure her, you will even let her leave? I wouldn’t! It’s surely nice to have company, especially if the company will take care of your every need.”
“Nay, Adelaide. I would not do such a despicable thing.” Whisper uttered, looking at her sister with distaste. “I try to keep her busy, yes, but she often wanders off mid-task, set upon wickedness as she hunts in the Unknown.”
Adelaide rolled her eyes, but she adjusted her shawl and reached into a bedside drawer, rummaging around before lifting out a dainty but disturbing-looking bell. She held it out to Whisper, who took it cautiously in her hands. “If you insist on acting so soft, use this bell. If you attune it to her, she will be bound to do as you ask when you ring it. I very much advise that you keep her busy with tasks, as you do now, but make sure that before she completes one, you have another task to give. Ring the bell—and this is important—and say, ‘The ringing of the Bell commands you”, and she will be compelled to keep working. No time for gory woodland jaunts.”
“Where did you stumble upon such a trinket?” Whisper asked, turning the porcelain bell over in her hands with a sort of sick curiosity.
“I enjoy collecting magic artefacts, surely you know this, Whisper. I am no longer able to collect them myself, but when I complete a spell, exactly as my dark master commands me, he may bring me such magic baubles. Keeps a lonely old woman busy.”
“Dark master?” Whisper said, shocked and almost wondering if she misheard her sister, speaking of such a thing so casually. “Who commands someone as powerful as you?”
A small smile crept over Adelaide’s face, with an almost reverent look in her eyes. “The Beast, dear sister. The voice of the night bids me to aid him, and who am I to refuse?”
Whisper stood up in shock, the sudden movement paining her and causing her to knock over the blasted chair. “Deceive me not, Adelaide! Surely you are much smarter than this, than to work for the Beast.”
“I find the arrangement quite to my liking, Whisper. I do his dark bidding, and he rewards me with power. My weaving expands across the Unknown, ready to snare lost travelers such as the ones he desires for his Edelwood.” Her face took on an almost dreamy look. “Perhaps I can ask him to spare a big strong child to take as my own servant.”
Whisper sneered down at her sister. “You sicken me, Adelaide. I spend a good deal of my time and effort, and sacrificed my beauty, all to rid the Unknown of his sickly oil creations, only to find my own flesh and blood following his commands.” She shuffled over to the door. “I thank you for the bell, Adelaide. I won’t be coming back.”
Adelaide looked scandalized. “You owe me, Whisper! If you leave, I will make you regret it!”
Whisper looked over her shoulder. “I’ll shut the door on my way out, and that is the last thing you will get from me.”
“Does our sisterhood mean nothing to you? Our eldest sister would be very disappo—” Whisper opened the door, and immediately Adelaide squawked, huddling into her blanket. It was night by now, and the air held a deep chill that her sister so feared. Closing the door behind her, she studied the bell as she walked. She was hesitant to try such an evil artefact... but for Lorna’s sake, she would do it.
Keeping her safe and hale was all that mattered.