Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

7 Years Before the Farmer

Abigail

“I told you guys that game is impossible,” Abigail said, as a game over screen flashed on her television set.

Sebastian sighed. “I would’ve had it if Sam didn’t keep dying and using up all our lives.”

“They totally cornered me dude, that’s not fair,” Sam whined. 

She flopped back against her mattress as the two boys began to bicker. Outside her bedroom she could hear the patter of rain against her windowpane, and a small part of her longed to be out there in the gloom. Despite knowing their sleepy little valley never changed much, it always seemed more exciting in the rain. 

“Guys?” she asked, propping herself up by her elbows. “Can we do something else? Something fun?”

“Didn’t you just get this game for your birthday?” Sebastian finally turns away from the screen to look at her. “Maybe you should’ve asked for Junimo Kart instead…”

Abigail reached behind her for a pillow, before whipping it towards Sebastian’s head. He ducked, laughing. “Shut up. I have an idea,” she said. “You know, I got another game for my birthday, too. A… different kind of game.”

“A board game?” Sebastian asked with a look of interest.

“Yeah! Well… sort of?”

Abigail rolled over onto her stomach, letting her upper body hang off the edge of the mattress while she rummaged around in the dark underneath her bed. Her fingers grazed the dusty wooden floor and the soft fabric of a long-lost sock as she searched blindly, until she found the box she’s looking for. With a low grunt, Abigail pulled it out. 

“How long have you had that?” Sam asked, as she climbed off the bed to join them on the floor. 

“A few years, maybe? It just showed up out of nowhere one day,” Abigail replied, setting the box down in front of the three of them. “The Talking Spirit Board,” she read off the cover. “Weird, right?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You mean you finally cleaned your room and discovered some old game you’d forgotten about? Wow. Super weird.”

Abigail felt her cheeks growing warm. “I’m not lying! I found it all wrapped up on my bed one day, okay? I think it was a birthday gift from some distant family member or something. I don’t know.” 

“You sure it wasn’t your mom?” Sam suggested. 

Abigail snorted. “No. My mom told me she would burn it if I didn’t throw it out… Some people get crazy superstitious about this kind of thing; I did some research,” she explained, as she opened the box to take out the spirit board, and a wooden planchette. 

Sebastian took the planchette from her. “So have you used it before?” he asked, as he turned it over in his hands. 

“A couple times. Nothing happened, though. I think it works better if you do it with a group of people, you’re not really supposed to use them alone.”

“Wait, there are rules?” Sam looked concerned. 

“Of course there’s rules! You can’t just mess around with something like this! You have to be respectful.” She shot a look at Sebastian. “That includes you, by the way.” Abigail still remembered how a past board game night had resulted in a yelling match after Sebastian had tried to find a loophole in the rules - though admittedly, she may have escalated the argument by knocking all the pieces off the board.

He shrugged, with a slight smirk on his face that suggested he remembered that night just as well as she did. “Sure, whatever you say.”

“So what’re the other rules?” Sam asked. 

“Well, you always have to end a session by saying goodbye,” Abigail explained, moving the planchette to demonstrate. “And if the spirit starts going through all the letters of the alphabet one by one, or making an infinity sign, that means it’s an evil spirit and you have to end the session immediately.”

“Cool,” Sebastian agreed, “can we try it, then?” 

“Okay… we all need to put two fingers on the planchette,” Abigail instructed. “No, not the same hand, Sam - one finger from each. Like this, see? And then we ask it to introduce itself… What is your name?” 

Beside her, Sam inhaled sharply as the planchette began to move across the board. 

M - O - N - A

“Mona,” Abigail repeated in a whisper. She looked up at Sam and Sebastian. “What should we ask her?”

“Ask her to spell the alphabet,” Sebastian suggested, prompting Sam to elbow him.

“Dude! If I get possessed by an evil spirit because of you my mom is gonna kill me.” He glanced back at Abigail. “How do we know she’s not evil, anyways? We should ask her something to make sure.”

Sebastian sighed. “She’s not real, Sam.”

“Yes she is,” Abigail argued. “Haven’t you ever gone in the graveyard? There’s a headstone in there dedicated to her. Our Beloved Mona ,” she told them. “It’s the only grave in there with a name.”

“So what?” Sebastian asked.

“What do you mean, so what ? You’ve never heard the legend of Moaning Mona?” 

Sebastian simply shook his head, but Sam eagerly took the bait. “What’s the legend of Moaning Mona?”

Abigail grinned. She slid the planchette over to ‘goodbye’, before reaching for one of their flashlights. As she held it upright so that it illuminated the bottom of her face (the only way to tell a true horror story, as far as she was concerned), Abigail began her tale. 

“Years and years ago, a young woman named Mona moved to town. Not long after her arrival, she caught the eye of an older gentleman at the town Saloon, and the two of them soon fell madly in love. Mona wanted nothing more than to marry the gentleman, but he refused. He was the Mayor of their small, sleepy town, and if their relationship were discovered, the townspeople would be scandalized.” 

“Wait, why would they be scandalized?” Sam interrupted to ask. “Is the Mayor just like, not allowed to get married ever?” Abigail shushed him, before continuing on with her story. 

“Mona waited and waited, weeks and months and years, hoping that her lover would change his mind, but he never did. So, one starry night, Mona decided to take matters into her own hands.

She took her lover for a walk along the riverbank, and when they reached that old cobblestone bridge, and there she got down on one knee. Mona told him how much she loved him, and out of her pocket, she pulled a blue seashell pendant. A mysterious man on the beach had sold it to her one night, and if the gentleman would accept her pendant, Mona would consider the two of them as good as married - the townspeople would never have to know. 

Still, the gentleman refused. He took the pendant from Mona, and threw it over the side of the bridge, where it sank into the dark water below. Mona was enraged. She pushed him off the bridge without a second thought, and stormed back home. However, when she awoke early the next morning, she was so overcome with guilt that she threw herself off the very same bridge, taking her own life. 

Rumour has it that if you walk along the riverbank at night, you can hear the agonized moans of Mona echo across the water. And if you ever turn down a proposal from your lover… Well, you better watch out, because Moaning Mona might throw you off the bridge next.” 

“Terrifying,” Sebastian commented, in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Good thing we’re all fifteen and hopelessly single.”

Abigail shoved him in response. “Yeah? Well if you’re not scared why don’t we go summon her? The proper way.” 

“You’re not seriously going to suggest that we go down to the river now, are you?” Sebastian gave her an incredulous look. “It’s pouring rain outside.”

“Of course not,” Abigail lied. “We can summon her inside… we just need to go somewhere with water. Like the bathroom.” She got up from the floor, flashlight still in hand, then motioned for her two friends to follow her. “Quietly, though,” she hissed at them. “We can’t wake my parents up.”

Together, the three of them filed into the bathroom. Abigail instructed Sam to shut the door, as she turned the tap on to fill the bath with cold water. Sebastian was left in charge of their flashlight, a responsibility that he abused almost immediately by shining the light in Sam’s face when he turned around. 

“Quit dicking around, you guys!” Abigail snapped. “Give me that flashlight. I will be in charge of it, thank you.”

“What do we do now?” Sam asked, with a nervous glance around the bathroom.

“We need to look at our reflections… so we’ll use the mirror.” They gathered around the mirror, Sebastian on Abigail’s left, while Sam stood to her right. “Now, we need to chant Moaning Mona’s name three times. And you have to look into the mirror… no closing your eyes, Sam!”

Sam’s reflection rolled his eyes at her in the mirror.

“Ready?” There was a gentle weight on her hand just then, as Sebastian’s hand covered her own over the flashlight.

“Moaning Mona, Moaning Mona, Moaning Mona,” the three of them chanted. As they repeated their last ‘Moaning Mona’, she felt Sebastian’s thumb move as he flicked the flashlight off, plunging the bathroom into darkness. 

Beside her, Sam yelped. 

Outside the bathroom, the thud of heavy footsteps started down the hall. Sam gripped her arm, his nails digging into her bare skin as the footsteps came to a sudden stop outside the bathroom door. 

The wooden door burst open then, the light in the hall outside illuminating the outline of her dad as he peered into the dark bathroom.

“What in Yoba’s name is going on in here, Abigail?” He fumbled for the lightswitch, flooding the bathroom with light once his fingers found it. 

“We were just playing a game, dad,” Her voice faltered as his brow furrowed. 

“A game?” he repeated. “Yoba, Abigail… I thought someone was dying in here!” Her mother appeared at her father’s side, wearing a matching expression of displeasure. “Did you hear that, Caroline? They’re just fine! Just playing a game at one in the morning! Screaming bloody murder!”

“Bed,” her mother demanded. “All of you. Right now!”

The three of them mumbled an apology in unison.

“Do I even want to know why the bathtub was filled with water?” Abigail could hear her mother ask her father, as the three of them retreated back to her bedroom.

-----

Despite his many protests that he would never get a good night’s sleep again, Sam was the first of the group to pass out. 

Abigail, on the other hand, was still wide awake. The sound of Sam’s snoring drowned out the soothing patter of the rain overhead, and her mind wouldn’t stop racing. It wasn’t just the thrill of their silly ritual game that was keeping her awake, or all the candy and cake and cola she’d stuffed herself with over the course of her birthday, but rather the lingering sensation of Sebastian’s hand over hers that she could still feel.

She rolled over onto her side, glancing over at the pair of sleeping bags laid out on her bedroom floor. Sam was cocooned inside his sleeping bag, while Sebastian sat cross-legged on top of his own, idly pushing the planchette around her spirit board. 

Abigail decided to join him, kicking the covers off herself before she rolled out of bed. “Any luck?” she asked, as she took a seat across the board from him.

He shook his head. “Nah. Mostly just spelling out rude words.” Beside them, Sam let out a particularly loud snore. Sebastian glanced over at him, then back at Abigail, rolling his eyes. 

“Does he always snore like this?” she whispered to him.

“Usually it’s not this bad… this is probably the best sleep he’s gotten since his mom had his brother, though. Can’t imagine getting any sleep with a new baby in the house.”

“Oh, yeah.” Abigail pulled a face. “Could you imagine having a new sibling at this age? I think I would actually run away.”

“It’d be the fucking worst,” Sebastian agreed. “Getting a new half-sister was bad enough… you’re so lucky you’re still an only child.”

“Yeah… and at least I don’t have living proof that my parents had sex more than once.”

“Oh, fucking disgusting.” He lunged across the board to give her a playful shove, and she stifled a laugh. “How dare you imply my mom ever did it with Demetrius. As far as I’m concerned, Maru was a test tube baby created in a lab.” 

Next to them, Sam rolled over in his sleep , giving her an opening to change the subject before their conversation got a little too weird. 

“We put something weird in his sleeping bag,” she suggested. 

He grinned at her. “Absolutely. Yes. What do you think would freak him out the most?”

Abigail glanced down at the spirit board, still laying in front of them. “This,” she decided, palming the planchette. She crawled over to where Sam is sleeping, and paused, glancing back at Sebastian with a devious look, before she slowly unzipped one corner of his sleeping bag. Sam shifted again, but continued to snore. Quickly, Abigail stuffed the planchette in with him before scampering back to Sebastian’s side. 

“He’s never going to agree to play one of your games again,” Sebastian whispered, as she leaned into his shoulder, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “I hope you know that.”

“Yes he will,” she insisted, and this time they both have to stifle a laugh. “He’ll do almost anything to impress anyone… you know that.” 

“Oh, like you didn’t just suggest hiding something in his sleeping bag to impress me.”

“That’s different,” Abigail argued.

He gave her a look. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She stared back at him, her gaze flickering down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. She hesitated, waiting to see if he would take the hint, and when he didn't, she inched forward a little. 

Sebastian swallowed hard but he leaned in too, stopping just short, his nose almost touching hers. 

Inches away from the moment she’d been fantasizing about for weeks, Abigail decided to take the plunge, closing her eyes before she closed the gap between their lips. She waited for that magical spark, for the feeling of butterflies to flutter about in her stomach, for something to happen, but it never came. She pulled back, instead feeling a mix of confusion and disappointment. 

Sebastian had been a much better kisser in her daydreams. 

They sat in silence for a moment. Abigail twirled a strand of purple hair around her fingers - against her parents' wishes, she’d dyed it last week before her birthday, hoping that Sebastian would like it. Now, he wouldn’t even look at her, his eyes fixed on the sleeping bag they were sitting on. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, breaking the silence. “That wasn’t… I thought it would be different.”

“Me too,” Abigail agreed. She tucked the strand of hair back behind her ear, before glancing over at him again. “Did you want to do it?”

Sebastian shrugged. “I dunno. I thought I did. I just…”

“Thought it would be different,” Abigail finished for him. He nodded. “Me too.” 

There was another stretch of silence. “Do you still want to be friends?” he asked in a quiet voice. 

She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Of course. Idiot.”

Sebastian looked up then, finally meeting her eyes. “Hey Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise not to tell Sam?”

She held her right pinky out towards him, and he reciprocated, linking their fingers together. “Promise,” she agreed.

Chapter Text

Sam

Friday nights in Pelican Town found the Stardrop Saloon bustling, with most of its residents gathered inside to socialise over drinks and Gus’ end of the week specials. 

As Sam waited at the counter for his order, he glanced around the bar. Abigail’s father was tucking into a plate of crispy calamari just down the bar from him, while Sebastian’s parents waltzed to the jaunty tune playing on the Saloon’s jukebox, in front of a crackling fire. Near the entrance, the Mayor was sharing a table with Marnie, a pink hue spread across both their cheeks. 

There was one face he didn’t recognize in there that evening - a tall, freckled man wearing mud-speckled boots, and a plaid button-down shirt. Though he’d yet to properly introduce himself, Sam had heard through the grapevine that he’d inherited the old farmhouse from his grandfather, and had just moved to the valley at the start of the spring to maintain it.

“Haven’t broken that losing streak yet, eh?” Emily asked, as she appeared at the bar with three icy cold bottles, and a piping hot pizza. It was a bit of a well-known fact that he and Sebastian had an agreement that the loser would buy the first round of drinks - and Sam had yet to win a single game of pool. 

Sam shook his head. “He wouldn’t even take pity on a poor, injured man for one round,” he replied, pointing to a colourful band aid that was plastered just under his chin - the kick flip he’d been practising earlier in the afternoon had gone sideways. “Can you believe it?” 

Emily only offered him a sympathetic smile in reply.

He fished a couple bills out of his jeans pocket to pay her, before carefully collecting his order. If there was one thing Sam had perfected in his many years of spending Friday nights at the Saloon, it was navigating the bar with an armload of food without spilling anything.

“That new farmer is here,” he commented, taking a seat at the corner table in the Saloon’s arcade. “Have you guys met him yet?”

“No, but my mom has not shut up about him since he arrived,” Sebastian replied, twisting the cap of his ginger ale off in his hands, as Abigail bit open her beer bottle next to him.

“Can you blame her? I mean, what else is there to talk about in this town?” She paused to take a swig of her beer. “I just hope the new farmer turns out to be more interesting than Elliott… I did hear that Lewis unlocked the old community center for him.” 

Sebastian took a sip of his own drink, before asking, “why bother? That place is a dump.”

Abigail shrugged. “Maybe he’s hoping he’ll take pity and put some money towards fixing the place back up. I hope not, though… I think it’s more interesting the way it is.”

“What, haunted?” Sam asked, as he tore off the first slice of pizza.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe the old community center is haunted, dude,” Sebastian replied, with a look of amusement that amplified as Sam nodded. “What, did you hear that from your little brother?”

Abigail’s face lit up. “Ooh, what did you hear?”

“I mean, it was probably nothing,” Sam said, as Sebastian rolled his eyes, “but he told me that he and Jas saw a ghost while they were playing there the other day.”

She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table top. “And did he say what it looked like? Orbs? Mist? Full body apparition? Inquiring minds need to know, Sam.”

Sam shrugged. “I dunno. He just said it was green?” he elaborated, in between bites of his pizza. “Maybe he actually saw an alien… that’d be way cooler than a ghost, anyways.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Sam,” Abigail argued. “What would an alien be doing in the community center?” She helped herself to some more of their pizza. “Now a ghost, on the other hand… a building as old as that has to have the soul of at least one ghost trapped in there.” 

Sebastian groaned. “Neither of them are real, what does it matter anyways?”

Sam could already see the gears turning in Abigail’s mind. “Well if you’re so sure that the old community center isn’t haunted, why don’t we go check it out?” she suggested with a mischievous smile. “You’ve got to be at least a little curious about what’s in there, haven’t you?”

“There’s not going to be anything there,” Sebastian muttered, “but sure, if it’ll keep you from begging us to go exploring in there for the next week...” 

Sam gave their half-eaten pizza a dejected look. “What, like right now?”

Abigail dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. “After we finish eating, of course. Let’s not waste a perfectly good pizza.”

“One more round of pool, too,” Sebastian insisted, “I’m not done kicking Sam’s ass yet.”

Sam pouted. “I’ll have you know that when I recover from my traumatic skateboarding injury next week, I’ll finally put your winning streak to an end.”

“Oh, like that’ll ever happen,” Abigail scoffed. “Aren’t you tired of winning every week, Seb? How about a real challenge for once? I’d like to play a round.” 

Sebastian appeared to be considering her offer as he finished off his drink. “Why not?” he agreed. “As long as you’re prepared to be wrong twice in one night.” 

“Yeah?” She stood, wiping pizza grease from her fingers off on her black leggings. “We’ll see about that.”

Sam watched as the two of them began a heated match of rock, paper, scissors over who would get to break, his fingers idly tracing over the scratches and grooves in the worn wooden table. He smirked to himself as he ran his thumb over the word ‘ASS’ - an almost-forgotten relic from the time they’d decided to carve their initials with Abigail’s pocket knife.

It was oddly comforting in a way, a reminder that while they’ve changed in some ways since those days, their friendship hadn’t. 

Sam’s eyes flickered back up to the pool table as Abigail took the first shot, sinking one of the balls from her break shot alone. She blew on the tip of the cue stick as if it were a smoking gun, before shooting a grin at Sebastian.

“Not bad,” Sebastian commented.

“Unlike Sam here, I know my way around a cue stick and some balls.” Abigail smirked in his direction, and Sam felt his cheeks grow warm.

“I think I’m going to use the bathroom,” he mumbled to no one in particular, excusing himself from the table. Sebastian and Abigail barely acknowledged him as he left the arcade, making a beeline for the doors of the Saloon instead.

Out in the cool evening air, Sam slumped against the brick wall, staring up at the fading orange sky above as he tried to clear the thoughts that had begun swimming in his head. Even the brilliant sunset couldn’t stop him from picturing the coy looks he was sure Abigail was shooting Sebastian across the pool table, or imagining their innuendo-laden banter. He closed his eyes then, feeling a little sick. 

Stop it , he commanded his brain, pressing the tips of his fingers to his eyes until he saw fireworks exploding. He doesn’t like her that way. He would’ve told you if he did.  

Would he have, though? It wasn’t as if Sam had ever owned up to his own crushes. 

Best friends since the age of seven, they’d told each other everything. Their favourite bands, their biggest fears… everything up until Sam had developed an embarrassing crush on Alex Mullner at the age of fourteen. In his defence, Alex had complimented his new hairstyle after Sam had endured several days worth of teasing from his so-called friends, and the butterflies Alex’s words had stirred up were just enough to fuel a summer-long crush. 

With embarrassment, Sam could recall hanging around the ice cream stand outside the museum, waiting for just the right opportunity to catch Alex alone, and ask him exactly which brand of gel he styled his own hair with. How he’d ordered the same one online - with priority shipping, Yoba he’d had it bad - with the expectation that Alex would find him touching up his hair in the boys’ bathroom at school, and compliment him once again on his carefully-styled locks. 

Three weeks he’d eagerly waited for his package to arrive - and then another week for school to begin again - only for his crush to wither and die on the spot after he’d overheard Alex ask Sebastian a rude question instead. 

He’d diverted his attention to more important things over the years following that - learning the art of the perfect kickflip, defeating Dreadlord Xarth in Solarian Chronicles, and forming a band with his best friend, one that would undoubtedly lead to them creating the best experimental noise rock album of all time. Laying on his bed, side by side with Sebastian, their fingers brushing as they swapped hand-scrawled sheets of lyrics, Sam had felt the sudden spark of a new crush. 

A crush he’d still yet to shake, almost four years later. 

Sticky sweet maple bars, cold scoops of vanilla ice cream floating on blue raspberry sauce, or the stringy pull of a dangerously cheesy pizza - all of it paled in comparison to the way just being around Sebastian made his stomach feel. It was a different feeling - so much more intense - than the flutters Alex had given him. He felt bubbly, like a can of Joja Cola, every time Sebastian smiled at him - a real smile, the kind he so rarely shared with anyone other than Sam.

His friendship with Sebastian was far too important for him to risk it all for a stupid crush, so he’d kept it to himself, silently enjoying the little moments they sometimes shared, even if Sebastian would never feel the same. 

Foolishly, he’d almost managed to trick himself into believing that Sebastian could.

“You okay, dude?”

The sound of his best friend’s voice sent Sam’s thoughts scattering in a dozen different directions, like pool balls ricocheting across a table. He uncovered his eyes to find Sebastian staring back at him, with an expression of concern.

“Thought maybe you had food poisoning when you didn’t come back from the bathroom.”

“Ah, was I gone that long?” Sam asked sheepishly. 

Sebastian nodded. “Started having flashbacks to that time we dared you to drink a full glass of Gus’ special hot sauce… Do you remember?”

He groaned, covering his face again with both hands. “Dude, how could I forget? The couch still has a stain from where I threw up… ”

Sam wondered if Sebastian remembered as much of that night as he did - how he’d helped Sam clean up in the Saloon bathroom, taking off his shirt to soak it in the sink, worried that his mom would think he’d thrown up after drinking too much and land the both of them in trouble.

Instead, he asked, “how’d you know to find me out here, anyways?”

“The bathroom was empty, so I figured you must’ve gone home. Was about to go check on you, luckily I didn’t have to go very far.” He bumped Sam’s shoulder with his own.

“Sorry,” Sam replied, “I thought I’d be back before you noticed.”

Sebastian shrugged. “Abigail didn’t put up as much of a fight as she thought she would.” In the distance, the street lamps dotting the Town Square flickered on. “You ready to head back in?” Sebastian asked, nodding in the direction of the door. “Or were you actually going home? I could walk you there, if you want.”

Though touched by Sebastian’s offer, Sam shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine. Let’s get back to Abby, before she thinks we’ve both got food poisoning, or something.”

As they turned to head back into the Saloon, he felt Sebastian put a hand on the small of his back. The weight of his fingers was gentle, lingering there for only a moment, but just long enough to make the bubbles in his stomach fizz up again.

“There you are!” Abigail exclaimed, as the two of them entered the arcade again. “Thought maybe you had chickened out.”

Sam shook his head. “Just needed some air,” he replied. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“You still up for our little adventure, then?” Abigail asked, clapping him on the back. 

He glanced over at Sebastian, who said nothing, but challenged him all the same with a simple quirk of one eyebrow - a look that had preceded most bad decisions Sam had made, but had yet to learn to say no to. Sam swallowed hard. “Okay fine,” he agreed. “Lead the way.”

Chapter Text

Abigail

Under the glow of the streetlamps, three figures made their way across the cobblestone square, towards a set of stone steps. The top of the steps gave way to a dirt path, and at that end of that path stood a worn, wooden building consumed by ivy: the old community center. 

They paused outside the door. “You boys ready to see your first ghost?” Abigail asked, as she placed a hand on the cold, metal doorknob.

“You say that like you’ve actually seen a ghost,” Sebastian said. 

She grinned back at him. “Maybe I have,” Abigail replied, before twisting the knob. The heavy door stuck for a moment, until she used the force of her hip to push it open. The interior was dark, save for a few small patches on the floor where the moonlight had filtered in through the boarded up windows.

Sam sneezed behind her. “It’s dusty as hell in here, Abby,” he complained. “I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into this.”

“You can wait outside if you’re scared,” she suggested, an offer that Sam didn’t take her up on.

“Oh, so you two can laugh it up over how much of a baby you think I am? No way, dude.” He took the first step forward, as if to prove his own bravery. “At least I’m not scared of spiders,” Sam continued, in a voice that carried in the empty building, “and I bet this place is full of them.”

Abigail had the sudden sensation of something crawling up the back of her arm, but she shook it off. “Nope! Not gonna work this time, Sam!”

“Worth a shot,” Sam muttered with a shrug. 

There was a faint clicking noise to her right, followed by a warm, orange glow - Sebastian had fished his cigarette lighter out of his hoodie pocket. “So, either Sam’s brother is into building creepy little huts instead of pillow forts, or this place maybe isn’t as abandoned as we all thought it was,” he said, drawing their attention to the structure in the corner of the room. “Take your pick.” 

“Probably just Vince and Jas messing around in here, yeah,” Sam agreed, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Or maybe it’s that guy who lives by the lake… what’s his name again?”

“Linus?” Sebastian replied. “I guess I could see it.”

“It must get pretty cold living in a tent in the winter,” Abigail agreed. “But wouldn’t it make more sense to just… pitch his tent in here? Why go through the trouble of building a hut instead?”

“Dare you to go sit in it,” she could hear Sebastian mutter to Sam. 

Sam elbowed him in response. “Dude, you go sit in it. That thing looks like it’s for sacrifices… I’m not offering myself up first.”

As they began to argue about which of them should be sacrificed first, Abigail moved past them, stepping through the hole left by the broken boards and onto the dirt below. Getting down on her knees she felt along the ground with an outstretched hand, reaching into the abyss within the hut, but her fingers were only met with cool air, and hard soil. 

“It’s empty,” she declared, as she stood back up. “I was hoping there’d be a clue inside…”

Sam shrugged. “Guess this ghost hunt’s a bust, then.”

“Hang on,” Abigail said, as Sam took a step towards the door, “we’ve barely seen the place, there’s still a whole building to explore… I think we should each take a different room, whoever chickens out first has to buy pizza and drinks next week.”

“Without a flashlight?” Sam asked. “I forgot my phone at home…”

“How about Sam and I take one side of the building, and you check the other?” Sebastian countered. 

“Yeah, and you can take the basement,” Sam added. 

Abigail shook her head. “Forget it, we’ll just stick together then,” she decided. “I’m not letting you guys leave me alone in a dark basement so you can go sneak off to smoke a joint.” 

“This would have been a lot more enjoyable if we actually had a joint to smoke,” Sebastian muttered.

Just as she was about to suggest they save the basement for last, Abigail caught a flash of green disappear around a corner. “Let’s go left first,” she said, setting off after it without hesitation. 

The worn, wooden floorboards creaked under their weight as Sam and Sebastian followed after her, catching up in just a few strides. Next to her, Sam stumbled as he stepped through a hole in the flooring, catching himself on Sebastian’s arm before he fell to the ground. Had she been paying attention, she might have noticed that he kept a tight grip on Sebastian well after he’d found his footing again, but she was too fixated on finding that flash of green once again. 

“There!” she cried suddenly, pointing a finger as it appeared at the end of the room. “Did you see that?”

Sam exchanged a confused look with Sebastian. “No?”

“See what?”

“There was a little green… I don’t know, mote? It was right in the doorway there, the one that leads out into the hallway.”

“You’re fucking with us,” Sebastian replied. “I didn’t see anything.”

“Keep going then,” she protested, taking an impatient step forward. “It’s got to be in one of those rooms off the hall.”

The first room was a bust - a small pantry that appeared to have been raided of everything except a few barrels, and not a mote in sight - and the kitchen next to it was equally disappointing. Abigail kicked at a loose tile in frustration, and it crumbled under her boot. 

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Sam suggested. “We could all crash at my place.”

“Too scared to sleep alone?” Sebastian smirked. “You know, we haven’t even checked out the basement yet…”

There was no need, however, as Abigail caught sight of the green mote again. “Quick, follow me,” she said, as she bounded down the stairs that led into the last room. “Do you see it?” she breathed, as it bounced on the spot for a moment, before fading away.

“You mean the paper on the floor?” Sam asked. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Not the paper,” Abigail groaned, not prepared to admit that she hadn’t even spotted it until Sam had pointed it out. The mote! It was right there, you had to have seen it this time.”

They both shook their heads, and though Abigail stood there, arms folded across her chest as she waited for one of them to crack, they both stared back at her with growing looks of concern. “Seriously dude, are you feeling alright?” Sam asked. 

“I swear I saw something,” Abigail protested. “Promise you’re not messing with me… you guys really didn’t see anything?”

“Swear on the book of Yoba,” Sam answered, right hand over his heart. 

She turned to look at Sebastian. “Seb?”

“Believe me, I’d love for a ghost to appear and prove me wrong, but no. Didn’t see anything.” 

Abigail glanced back at the spot where she’d seen the mote, empty now, save for the piece of paper. “We should investigate this, at least,” she said, bending over to pick it up.

Sebastian held out his lighter to illuminate the paper, yellowed from age, with an ornate border of vines and crescent moons enclosing a passage of text. At least, it appeared to be text - the stranger characters were indecipherable to her. 

“This has to have something to do with that mote,” Abigail insisted, “and whoever left this here probably built that hut, too.”

“Come on, Abby, it was probably just Vincent and Jas,” Sebastian replied. “Sure, the hut’s pretty weird, but kids make up secret codes all the time.”

“And the mote? How do you explain that?” she asked Sebatian. 

He shrugged. “Maybe you saw a rat?”

“A green rat.”

“It could have been... I dunno, a mutant rat?” Sam suggested. 

“A green, mutant rat.”

“Yeah.” 

Abigail sighed. “Let’s go back to the Saloon; I need another drink.” 

She still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something she was missing, and as the boys turned to leave, she tucked the paper into the pocket of her vest. 

It was a puzzle she’d have to mull over another day, but more importantly, it was proof that something had been in the old community center - whether Sam and Sebastian believed her or not. 

-----

Abigail awoke the next morning to the sound of something tapping against glass. 

She threw the covers over the end of her bed, and rolled out of it, padding across the floor to her window. The early morning sun hit her in the face as she pulled the curtains open, and as she squinted she could just make out the source of the noise - a raven perched on the window sill.

There was something else there, too: a folded piece of paper, though Abigail had never seen paper come in such a magnificent shade of midnight blue before. The raven took flight as she pushed the bottom pane of glass upwards, leaving the letter behind. She turned her back to the window and unfolded it, running a thumb along the embossed edge of the paper as she began to read:

My sources tell me you’ve been poking around inside the old community center.

Why don’t you pay me a visit?

My chambers are west of the forest lake, in the stone tower. I may have information concerning your… ‘rat problem’.

• M. Rasmodius, Wizard. 

Abigail inhaled sharply. 

She’d heard stories about the tower west of the Cindersap lake before. That it was abandoned, that it was haunted, that a powerful being - or perhaps even some kind of monster - lived there. Watching over the town and its residents. 

The rumours had done nothing but spark her curiosity, of course. She’d journeyed out there with Sam and Sebastian, back when they were a little younger, and a lot more willing to go on adventures with her. The mysterious noises emanating from inside had drawn them in, and though a glance in the windows had revealed nothing but an empty tower, they’d spent the rest of the afternoon playing wizards in the forest. She could still remember the look on her mom’s face when they’d trooped back home - Abigail with a splinter in her hand, Sebastian with a scraped knee, and Sam’s new jeans covered in grass stains. 

Her mother had grounded her for two weeks after that adventure, but Abigail often found herself returning to the tower, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever resided inside its stone walls. She’d been unsuccessful, but now… a letter? 

There was a knock at her bedroom door then, and Abigail hid the letter behind her back just before it opened. “You aren’t going to the Egg Festival dressed like that, are you?” her mother asked, poking her head through the doorway.

Abigail sighed; she’d forgotten the egg festival was today.

Despite the comments her continued participation had garnered from the other townsfolk, Abigail had always looked forward to the annual egg hunt. It was like hunting for treasure, a simple thrill in what was always an uneventful spring season, and the fact that she had yet to lose didn’t hurt, either. 

Of course, this year’s egg festival just had to fall on the one day something interesting was finally about to happen. 

Once her door closed, she swapped her cozy pajamas for some actual clothing, and laced up her boots. Her fingers brushed against the note from last night as she stuffed the folded up letter into her vest pocket, the thought of getting some real answers made her feel giddy.

The only thing that stood in her way now was an egg hunt, and she was determined to crush it as usual. 

-----

As her two best friends marched up to her, matching grins on their stupid faces, Abigail scowled. 

“Wow, some competition this year, huh?” Sam said casually, as he plopped into the empty seat next to her. Sebastian took the seat on her other side, saying nothing, but a grin still plastered on his face all the same. “Who would’ve guessed that the new farmer was so good at hunting for eggs?”

“Beginners luck,” she muttered. “Besides, he kicked your ass too, Sam,” she added in a louder voice. 

Sam simply shrugged. “You know the only reason I still join in is to help my little brother out.”

“And for the chocolate,” Sebastian piped up. 

“And for the chocolate,” Sam repeated, as he unwrapped the foil on a large chocolate egg - the consolation prize for the losers. Breaking off a piece, he reached over Abigail’s lap to pass it to Sebastian, who had declined to participate in the egg hunt since his sister had been old enough to join. 

“I got a letter,” she announced, in the hope that it would change the subject. 

“From the farmer?” Sam asked, with a mouthful of chocolate.”

She shook her head. “No, not the farmer… from the wizard, actually.”

“The wizard?” Sebastian repeated, with a look of mild amusement. “You know he’s probably not actually a wizard, right? On account of the whole wizards-not-being-real thing.”

“That’s what he called himself in the letter,” Abigail argued. “M. Rasmodius, Wizard.” She pulled the letter out of her pocket, and handed it to Sebastian. “Here, look for yourself.” As Sebastian unfolded the paper, Sam leaned over her shoulder for a better look. 

“Woah,” Sam gasped. 

“I told you guys I saw something in the community center,” Abigail said. “And he must know something about it… how would he have known what we were doing in there otherwise? Obviously he’s a real wizard.”

Beside her, Sam nodded. “She’s got a good point, Seb. How else did he know we were in there?”

“Maybe he was out taking a walk and he saw us go in, I dunno,” Sebastian muttered. “Makes more sense than him having some sort of magical wizard vision.” 

“And he just happened to overhear what we were saying?” Abigail retorted. “How convenient.” 

Sebastian threw his hands up. “The place is full of holes, anybody walking past could have heard us in there!” He glanced over in the direction of the wizard. “You know, he’s right over there. Why don’t you just go over and talk to him now?”

“I can’t talk to him here, in front of everyone!” she protested. “Besides, he probably won’t talk to me about what I saw in front of the whole town, anyways.”

“Right,” Sebastian agreed, “because then everybody would think he’s some weird old dude living in a tower. Oh, wait…” He shot a grin at Sam, who laughed.”

Abigail frowned, taking back her letter. “Well, I’m going to visit him anyways. Sorry the wizard doesn’t think you guys are cool enough to get your own personal invite, but if maybe you’re nice I might let you come with me.”

Sebastian scoffed, but Sam looked intrigued. “It could be cool,” he said. 

“Fine,” Sebastian agreed with a sigh. “I guess it would be pretty neat to see an actual wizard tower… assuming he’s not some sort of fraud.” 

Abigail grinned. “I knew you couldn’t resist; you’re such a nerd. Let’s go check it out tomorrow, then.” Sam’s look of intrigue quickly changed to one of hesitation as he exchanged glances with Sebastian. She rolled her eyes. “Whatever recreational stupidity you two have planned can wait, I promise.”

“Well, we were actually gonna jam tomorrow,” Sam explained. “And, um, I have work on Monday, so…” 

“Can’t you guys postpone your boys-only band practice for some other time? I thought you wanted to meet the wizard.” 

“Right,” Sam agreed, “but it’s just that we already had to postpone it for the egg festival-”

“It’ll only take an hour,” Abigail interrupted. “Please?”

Sam looked over at Sebastian again, who shrugged. “Okay,” he conceded. “But this is the last time you’re dragging me on one of your adventures.”

Chapter Text

Sebastian

“I think this is technically trespassing.”

“Since when were you such a stickler for rules, Seb?” Abigail asked. “I just wanna see what farmer boy’s been up to since he moved in. Have one last walk through the place, for old time’s sake. Besides, I saw him heading down to the beach with his fishing pole, so I doubt he’ll be back for a few hours.”

With Abigail’s mind seemingly made up, the three of them carried on down the dirt path that led to the farm.

Though Sebastian could see why his mom was itching to help patch the old farmhouse up, there was a sort of charm to its weathered exterior and the overgrowth of trees and foliage around it. A small patch just outside the front porch had been cleared, and out of the tilled dirt small green sprouts were beginning to poke up.

“I’d kill to inherit a little house by a waterfall,” Abigail commented as she gazed wistfully across the property.

“Maybe instead of competing to see who can find the most eggs, you should be competing to win his hand in marriage,” Sam suggested.

“As if.”

Silence fell over the group as they continued on their way, their attention soon focused on sidestepping the rotting logs and rocks hidden among the tall grass. Out in Cindersap forest, the tall grass subsided as they circled around the pond, weaving through pine trees until they’d reached the cliff side. Surprisingly, the tall stone tower that sat atop the cliff still looked as imposing as it had when the three of them had first discovered it as kids. There was little time for him to admire it, however, as Abigail led them up the rocky steps to the entrance of the tower.

The wooden door had a heavy metal knocker on it, and Sebastian briefly wondered if asking his mother to install a similar on his bedroom door would encourage her to actually knock before entering. The heavy thud it made as Abigail let it fall back against the door was definitely satisfying, at any rate. 

With bated breath they waited for a response, but none came. 

“Maybe he’s not home?” Sam asked, as a second knock failed to elicit any acknowledgement from within the tower. 

“You could try the door anyways,” Sebastian suggested. “Not like anyone around here bothers to lock their door most of the time.”

“I dunno, if I were a super powerful wizard I’d probably lock my door,” Sam argued back. “What if someone came and took all my cool wizard stuff?”

Sebastian shrugged. “So? You’re a wizard, just magic it back.”

“It’s not breaking and entering if we were invited, right?” Abigail reasoned, interrupting their argument. “We should at least try before we head back…” She gave the door a tentative push, and after a minute passed without any apparent danger, the three of them stepped inside the tower. 

Inside the tower, a figure in a dark cloak and matching cowboy hat sat with his eyes closed and legs crossed in front of a summoning circle, which appeared to be chalked onto the patch of stone floor. 

“Ah, come in,” the Wizard said, rising to his feet in one swift motion. “I am Rasmodius. Seeker of the arcane truths. Mediary between physical and ethereal. Master of the seven elementals,” he introduced himself, rattling off qualifications like he was a potential candidate at a job interview. “Keeper of the sacred cha…” Rasmodius abruptly trailed off mid sentence, as if he'd even bored himself. “You get the point.” 

“Thank you for inviting us to your tower,” Abigail said. “I’m-”

“Abigail,” he spoke, finishing her sentence. “You are, admittedly, not the one whose arrival I’d long foreseen. It’s rare that I am mistaken, but it does happen.” Rasmodius glanced between him and Sam. “You’ve brought company as well, I see. I suppose they may stay… as long as they don’t touch anything.”

The Wizard’s instruction was followed up by a warning look from Abigail, as if being treated like a sticky-fingered child by a supposedly powerful wizard wasn’t humiliating enough. 

Rasmodius gestured to the summoning circle with one hand. “Here, I’d like to show you something.” 

There was a flash of brilliant white light, followed by a gasp from Abigail as a small green orb appeared, encased in an aura that rapidly shifted from one colour to another. Upon further inspection, it even appeared to have two tiny black eyes. As Sebastian glanced over at Sam to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he could see that Sam’s own eyes were wide. 

He turned his attention back to the summoning circle, where the green orb squeaked a couple of times. 

“Behold!” Rasmodius declared. “You’ve seen one before, haven’t you?” he asked, with a look directed at Abigail. 

“Yes!” she replied. “I was the only one who could see it… I was almost convinced I’d imagined it.”

“They call themselves the Junimos,” he explained. “Mysterious spirits, these ones… For some reason they refuse to speak with me.” Rasmodius raised his right arm, and the Junimo vanished in another flash of white. “I’m not sure why they’ve moved into the community center, but you have no reason to fear them,” he continued. 

Abigail took a step forward. “We’re not afraid, we’re just… looking for some answers. I found a scroll as well, but it wasn’t written in a language I’ve ever seen before.” 

“Hmmm, a golden scroll in an unknown language, you say?” He raised an eyebrow. 

”Actually I didn’t say it was-”

“Most interesting,” he mused to himself, as if he hadn’t heard her. “May I see it?”

Abigail reached into pocket and procured a folded up piece of paper, passing it to Rasmodius. He studied it silently, before folding it up once more, and tucking it into his own robes. Abigail looked as if she were about to protest, but remained silent. “The language is obscure, but I am able to decipher it.” Rasmodius cleared his throat once, and then began to recite: 

“We, the Junimo, are happy to aid you. In return, we ask for gifts of the valley. If you are one with the forest then you will see the true nature of this scroll.” 

He moved to stand over the cauldron, from which thick emerald clouds were wafting up into the air. “Hmm, one with the forest… What do they mean?” Rasmodius muttered to himself, eyes closed. He inhaled deeply. “Ah. Come here, Abigail.”

With a look of hesitation on her face, Abigail glanced at the two of them, before she stepped forward to join the wizard. He placed a hand on her shoulder, steering her closer to the cauldron. 

“My cauldron is bubbling with ingredients from the forest. Baby fern, moss grub, caramel-top toadstool… Can you smell it?” Abigail looked as if she was trying very hard not to smell it, but nodded politely. Rasmodius pulled a clay cup out from somewhere within his black cloak, and dipped it into the bubbling liquid. “Here,” he said, as he passed it to Abigail. “Drink up. Let the essence of the forest permeate your body.”

Abigail took the cup from him, and pinched her nose before taking a sip. She immediately covered her mouth with her hand, letting the cup fall to the floor, where it disappeared just before it could hit the ground. Doubled over at the waist, she let out a groan. Her face had turned an impressive shade of green. 

“You think that means the essence has taken over her body?” Sam asked him in a whisper. 

“I think it means she’s gonna puke,” Sebastian muttered back. “Do you reckon we should step in or…?” 

“Uh, hey man,” Sam said. “I don’t know what you just gave to our friend, bu-”

The Wizard silenced Sam by holding up a hand. “Let the magic do its work.” 

Eventually, the correct colour had returned to Abigail’s face, and she’d straightened up.

“You’ve got a little forest magic in you now,” Rasmodius informed her, setting a hand on her shoulder. “Use it wisely,” he added, with another glance at Sam and Sebastian.

“So the Junimos,” Abigail began, glancing up at him. “How do we help them?”

Rasmodius shook his head. “I’m afraid you are not the one that job is destined for, my dear. These gifts of the valley, whatever they may be, will not be so simple to obtain. I think it would be best that I return this scroll to the community center, where it can be found once more by the correct person. The one whose arrival I foresaw…” 

“So there’s nothing I can do to help?” Abigail asked. He shook his head again. “Why did you even offer me the forest magic then?”

“Though you may not be the one the Junimos need, your discovery of the scroll has intrigued me,” Rasmodius answered. “I’ve been keeping watch over the townspeople, and if there is any one of those mundanes that are deserving of the forest magic, it is you. Should you make any other new discoveries, it will aid you in understanding. I can not make you a promise, but there may come a day when I require your assistance. If that day comes, I hope you are as willing to help then as you are now.” 

Though she looked crestfallen, Abigail nodded. 

“You may go now,” Rasmodius said, gesturing to the door. “I have important work to do.”

“Unbelievable,” Abigail seethed, as the wooden door shut behind them, and they began their trek through Cindersap Forest once again. “If I were a dude…”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “If you were a dude it wouldn’t have made a difference. He didn’t give two fucks about Sam and I, either, if you hadn’t noticed,” he argued.

“Oh, why do you care? A day ago you were claiming he was a fraud. You didn’t even ask to help like I did!” 

“Why do you want to help him, anyways?” Sam asked. “I thought he was kinda rude, to be honest. And why did he keep looking at us like we were going to touch something and break it? I swear he was actually debating just turning the two of us into frogs after he made you drink that nasty potion.”

“Personally I’m offended he didn’t turn us into frogs,” Sebastian replied. “That would have been sick.”

“I don’t want to help him ,” she answered. “I mean, it would be cool to be a wizard’s apprentice… but I want to help the junimos, too. I discovered their note. It’s like… it’s like finding all the eggs in an egg hunt, only to be told sorry, someone else gets to win the prize.”

“Dude, you really need to let the whole egg hunt thing go,” Sam said. “Even my little brother doesn’t care that much.” 

Abigail stopped in her tracks, whirling around to face them. “It’s not about the eggs, Sam… it’s about the fact that this farmer waltzes into town, and suddenly he’s this special chosen one? Mayor Lewis unlocked the community center for him, I’d bet my best pair of boots on him being the one who was meant to find the note.”

“I mean, yeah, probably.” Sebastian said. 

“Well, if the Wizard’s going to keep watching over us  I’m going to prove myself to him. Show him that I’m just as capable as the city boy farmer is.”

“How are you going to do that?” Sam asked, and though his question may have sounded dismissive coming out of anyone else’s mouth, his tone was one of genuine interest. 

She shrugged. “I’ll come up with something. Not like the farmer’s been doing anything impressive, anyways; all I’ve seen him do since he got here is fish. Probably why he hasn’t even found the scroll yet.”

“I’ve seen him venture in and out of the mines a couple times,” Sebastian offered. “My mom said some Joja workers finally cleared the blockage near the bridge. Dunno how much luck he’s had in there, but his backpack seemed pretty full. 

“Well, I’ve always wanted to explore those mines,” she said. “Guess I’ll just have to make it to the bottom before he does. Surely Rasmodius would have to be impressed by that .”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he cautioned. “I snuck in there one night and got a pretty nasty cut from a rock crab.” 

“No offense, Seb,” Abigail said with a smirk, “but I think I’m a little tougher than you are.”

“She’s not wrong, dude,” Sam agreed, elbowing him in the ribs. “Anyways, I’ll catch you guys later,” he said, as they arrived at the cobblestone path just outside his house. “I promised my mom I’d do the laundry like, two weeks ago, and she’s gonna freak out if I forget again.”

Abigail flashed Sebastian a look of confusion. “I thought you guys were gonna have a jam session today?” she asked him.

“Nah. Sam can never concentrate on Sundays,” he replied. “Spends half the day whining about how he can’t think about anything but work. I mean, I guess I’d probably mope around for a full day, too, if I had to work a shift at Satan Corp the next day.”

“Right,” she agreed. “So you two were just lying before about not being able to hang out with me today, then. Got it.”

He rubbed at the back of the neck. “It’s not like we don’t want to hang out with you,” he replied. “It just… feels like we’re a little old to be going on forest adventures, and looking for ghosts. Don’t you think?”

“But I really did find something this time, Seb,” she protested. “The two of you are always going on about how nothing ever happens in this town, and how you can’t wait to leave… but now that something interesting has finally happened, you don’t give a shit?” She had a look of fierce determination on her face, but her watery eyes suggested that she was on the verge of tears. “I am always the one who’s trying to get the group together, to make plans. Because otherwise you guys seem perfectly fine without me!” 

He stared down at his shoes. “I guess I just kinda assumed you wanted to go off and do your own thing one day,” he admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Well I do… but it still would be nice if someone invited me to do something once in a while!” She folded her arms over her chest.

“How about you join our band, then?”

“Thought that was boys-only,” she scoffed.

Sebastian shrugged. “Sam won’t mind… we need a third person anyways. You play the flute, don’t you? I’ve seen you out by the lake before.”

“That’s not exactly rock band material, is it?” 

“Well, you can at least read music,” Sebastian argued. “We’ll find you something to play. I know it’s probably not as cool as being a wizard’s apprentice, or venturing down into the mines, but at least you won’t get fucked up by a rock crab hanging out in Sam’s bedroom.”

Abigail grinned. “Hey, that could be our first album: Fucked Up by a Rock Crab.”

“Dude, we haven’t even picked a band name yet,” Sebastian said with a groan. “Sam comes up with twenty different names a day, I swear.”

“It’s Sam… he probably comes up with twenty different band names in between shampoo and conditioner,” she replied, at which they both laughed. “Well, if you’re serious-”

“-I am.”

“Then I accept,” she agreed. “Thanks, Sebastian. It genuinely means a lot.”

Chapter Text

Sam

Midway through Sam’s latest attempt at achieving a new high score in Junimo Kart, a dark figure emerged from behind the tree he was sat under, dropping down to sit next to him in the shaded patch of grass. Hands occupied by his console, Sam bumped shoulders with his best friend instead. “Hey dude.” 

“Hey,” Sebastian replied, the words just barely making it out of his mouth before he yawned. 

The level completion screen allowed Sam a quick glance sideways. The purpley-blue patches under Sebastian’s grey eyes seemed darker than usual. “Rough night?”

“Stayed up late to finish a project I was working on, and totally lost track of time.” 

He nodded. “I hear you, man. As soon as I start anything it’s like I’m sucked into another dimension until I finish.”

“I was this close to moping in bed the entire day instead, but Abby’s coming to practice,” Sebastian said. “Figured she’d just march back up to the mountain and roll me out of bed herself if I tried to blow it off. You know how she is.” 

The sound of his character losing a life perfectly synchronised with the feeling of Sam’s stomach sinking. “Abby’s coming to practice today?”

“Yeah, I invited her to join.” Sebastian’s eyes seemed to scan his face. “You don’t mind, do you? We needed a drummer anyways… I mean, who else were we going to find around here?”

“Right,” Sam agreed. “Of course. Good thinking, dude.” He followed this up with another shoulder bump, hoping to convince not just Sebastian that he wasn’t upset, but himself as well. “So does she already know how to play, or…?”

“Nah, but I figured you could teach her anyways, yeah?”

Abigail rounded the corner just then, carrying a battered instrument case. “Hey! Brought my flute just in case. You nerds ready to rock?” 

-----

Along with her flute, Abigail had brought an unwavering determination to learn. A small part of Sam had selfishly hoped that she would get frustrated and give up, like he’d seen her do so many times before when faced with the beginning level of Prairie King, but she’d proven to be a quick study, picking up the basics with ease by the end of the afternoon. She’d even come up with a band name that Sebastian had liked - and while it was admittedly good, it stung a little that he hadn’t been the one to come up with it.

At the very least he’d still had Sebastian to himself for an hour after practice, though they spent it in silence, watching the gentle flow of the river together as Sebastian finished off another cigarette. 

The following day, Sam resolved to write the first song for their album. One that he could actually imagine himself playing in front of a crowd of people, unlike the previous pages of songs scrawled in his battered notebook. All he managed to get down before he was interrupted was a half-decent doodle of an alien doing a kickflip. 

“Penny is taking me and Jas to the forest!” Vincent announced, as he pushed open the door to Sam’s bedroom without knocking. “Do you want to come with us?”

After a cursory glance between his brother’s hopeful eyes, and the near-empty page in his notebook, Sam decided a change of scenery was needed to help get the creative juices flowing in his brain. “Count me in, dude”, he replied, abandoning his notebook at his desk. 

Penny met them outside with a novel in hand, and a blanket tucked under one arm, which she laid out for her and Sam to sit on while the kids ran off to play. “How’s work?” Penny asked politely as she opened her book, removing a hand-stitched bookmark placed between its pages. 

Sam groaned. “Terrible. I hate working for Joja, but I dunno what else I’m supposed to do… not like there’s a lot of job opportunities in town.”

She gave him a sympathetic look. “I hope you get a good discount, at least.”

“Barely worth the hours of mopping, but it’s better than nothing,” he answered. “What about you? How’s tutoring going? Jas seems like a good kid, but man… Vince can really be a handful when he wants to.”

Penny laughed. “They’re both good kids, they just have different styles of learning. I imagine it’s a lot easier teaching the two of them than a whole class of students, at least.” She glanced across the field to where they were digging up spring onions from the dirt, a wistful look in her eyes. “I think I’d like to be a teacher, though, if we were to ever get a proper school in town. I just love working with children.”

“That’d be nice,” Sam agreed. 

She turned to look at him. “What would you do, if you could do anything you wanted?”

“Honestly?” He hesitated for a moment. “Leave the valley,” he admitted. “Move back to the city, see if I could finally turn my music into a career.” Kiss his best friend. Tell him how Sam had slowly fallen in love with him, starting from the day they had formed their band. He didn’t tell Penny those things, though. 

“I don’t think I’d ever be able to leave the valley,” Penny commented, bringing him back down to reality with her. “I guess there’s a lot out there I’ll never experience.” 

Sam thought about kissing Sebastian again. “Me too,” he agreed. “There’s still a load of new things to experience here, though,” he said after a moment, in an attempt to lighten the mood again.

Penny gave him a look of interest. “What kind of things?” she asked.

He scanned the area around them. “Have you ever gone looking for frogs in the lake?” he asked, to which she nodded. “Skipped rocks? Found a four-leaf clover? Climbed a tree?”

“No,” she finally answered. “I’ve never tried climbing a tree before.”

Sam clapped her shoulder. “Let’s do it, then!” Across the river from them was a sizable tree, with a low hanging branch that seemed just the right height for climbing. 

Penny set her book down, following his gaze. “I don’t know, Sam… It seems a bit dangerous.”

“Yeah? I thought dangerous was your middle name.”

“It’s Dana , actually,” she corrected with a slight smile.

He shrugged. “Close enough,” Sam argued, grinning back at her. “Come on,” he continued, as he climbed to his feet and offered her a hand. “I’ll help you up.” 

After a cursory glance at Vincent and Jas, still happily digging in the dirt, she finally accepted Sam’s hand, allowing him to lead her across the plank that bridged the riverbanks. He let go of it as he sized up the tree in front of them, before grabbing hold of a sturdy branch and scaling the trunk.

“See?” he called back to Penny. “Piece of cake!”

“Well, I suppose it is if you’re not wearing a skirt and loafers,” she answered, arms folded over her chest. “Maybe I’ll just sit down in the shade here…”

Sam jumped down from the tree. “Hold on a second, I’ll give you a lift up.”

Penny clutched his shoulders tightly as he planted a hand on either side of her waist, and lifted her up into the tree. Once she was comfortably seated, he clambered up the tree again and sat next to her, straddling the branch. 

“So? How does it feel?”

“Like I might fall,” she replied, gripping the tree branch in her hands so tightly Sam could see her knuckles turning white.

“You won’t,” Sam assured her. “Promise. I’ve climbed dozens of trees and I’ve only fallen out of one once.” In his defence, he’d been slightly inebriated at the time, though mentioning that to Penny didn’t seem like a wise idea.

She turned to look at him, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. “How many times did you fall getting into a tree, then?”

“Oh, lost count ages ago. Dr. Harvey could probably tell you, though.”

Above their heads, a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, and their conversation drifted. A sudden shriek caught Sam off guard, nearly causing him to nearly topple out of the tree. Vincent and Jas came bounding up the stone steps just then, with matching looks of terror on their pale faces. Sam jumped down from the tree, then held out a hand to help Penny down.

“Sam! Miss Penny!” Jas cried.

“There’s something in the sewers!” Vincent sobbed, wrapping himself around one of Sam’s legs. 

“What happened?” Penny asked, smoothing her skirt out before kneeling down to eye level. 

Vincent sniffled, wiping his hand across his nose. “We were diggin’ in the dirt, lookin’ for rocks, and we heard… we heard…”

“We heard a noise from the sewers,” Jas wailed, before throwing herself into Penny’s arms. “There’s something moving around in there!”

“That sounds very scary,” Penny replied, in a voice that was calm and reassuring as she rubbed Jas’ back. “Let’s take a deep breath, and then we can talk about what you might have heard, okay?”

“Yeah, it was probably just the wind,” Sam added. 

Vincent shook his head. “No, it didn’t sound anything like the wind! It sounded like… like… a splat noise. Two of them! And then it made… um…”

“A whistle sound,” Jas said. “A spooky one!”

“Will you look?” Vincent asked, glancing up at Sam with wide eyes. “Please?”

“Of course,” Sam agreed. 

Vincent released his leg, and Sam set off towards the steps leading down to the grated hatch. He stopped just short of it, uninterested in introducing his sneakers to the green sludge that the run-off pipe carried out of the sewer. 

It was difficult to see more than a few feet down the pipe, but just as Sam was satisfied that the sound had been nothing more than the wind, he heard a strange whistle emanate from within. Unwilling to investigate any further, he booked it back up the steps. 

“All good!” he declared to Penny and the children. “Let’s go back home, hey? I bet dinner’s almost ready.”

Vincent slipped his grubby fingers into Sam’s without protest. 

“Miss Penny?” Jas piped, as they set off towards town again. “What were you and Sam doing in a tree?”

Penny looked as caught off guard as Sam felt at the change in subject. “Sam and I were just trying something new today,” she answered after some consideration. “It’s fun to try new things sometimes, isn’t it?”

Jas cocked her head to the side. “So you weren’t kissing? I heard that when two people are sitting in a tree together, it means they’re kissing.”

“Sam and Miss Penny, sitting in a tree,” Vincent began to chant. “K-I-S-”

“Vincent!” Penny scolded, her cheeks as red as her hair. “That is not appropriate! Do I need to speak with your mother when I drop you off?”

“No Miss Penny,” Vincent mumbled, “sorry.” 

He was thankfully silent for the remainder of the walk home. 

-----

Later that evening Sam lay in bed, staring up at his ceiling. It was one of those nights where he just couldn’t seem to shut off all the thoughts running through his brain. A sudden bout of new song ideas had him envisioning t-shirts with their band name on it, which then got him thinking about the strange noise from the sewers. Were there goblins in the sewers, perhaps? Sebastian would probably scoff at the idea, but Abigail would definitely be intrigued. 

Thinking about his friends, of course, led his brain back to dwell on their last band practice, and the endless cycle of thoughts started up again like a washing machine. 

Counting sheep had never really seemed to work for Sam; he’d usually only make it about five sheep in before his train of thought derailed on a vaguely sheep-related tangent. Instead, Sam preferred to play out a fantasy. 

As of late his fantasies had increasingly begun to center around Sebastian, and that night was no exception. 

He settled on one where Sebastian was the one he was teaching to play a new instrument. The song he’d be teaching him would be one of Sebastian’s favourites, of course, and they’d sit on Sam’s bed together with his arms around Sebastian as Sam guided his fingers into the right position. As Sebastian strummed the first few notes, he’d rest his chin on Sebastian’s shoulder, and-

A soft knock at his bedroom door interrupted his thoughts, and the appearance of a small round face made Sam glad he hadn’t chosen one of his other fantasies about Sebastian.

Sam propped himself up by his elbows. “Hey buddy,” he called out in a low voice to Vincent. “Bad dream?”

Vincent nodded. 

“Sewer monsters?” Sam guessed.

His brother nodded again. “Can I sleep in your room?” he asked, creeping closer to Sam’s bed. 

It was a question that hardly needed asking. Ever since his younger brother had been old enough to let himself out of his room, he’d sought out Sam whenever he needed comforting after a nightmare. With their parents’ room on the other side of the house, Sam couldn’t blame him, either. 

“Of course,” Sam agreed, repeating his words from earlier that day. 

Vincent climbed into his bed, somehow managing to take up most of it despite being half Sam’s size. “I wish dad were here,” he said as he cozied up to Sam. 

“Me too,” Sam replied. 

“He’d protect us from sewer monsters,” was the last thing Vincent mumbled, before drifting off to sleep. 

Alone with his thoughts again, Sam conjured up a new fantasy, one in which Sebastian was his partner for the upcoming Flower Dance, instead of Penny.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

As pink petals drifted lazily through the air, Sebastian could already feel himself starting to sweat through his dress shirt and jacket under the late spring sun. Beside him, Abigail fanned herself with a paper napkin, looking equally miserable. 

“What do you think are the odds that a massive storm will suddenly hit, and we’ll all get to go home?” he asked her.

They both looked up at the clear sky overhead. “Slim to none, I’d say,” Abigail replied. “Let’s hope one does, though; I’m dying to get out of this dress.” 

Abigail’s flower dance dress had definitely seen better days - there was a grease stain on it from buffets past, and some of the lace edging was hanging off the hems - but it still wasn’t as unfortunate looking as the powder blue suits the unmarried men of Pelican Town were made to wear for the dance. “At least yours isn’t completely hideous.”

“Please, I look like a bride,” she groaned. “It’s revolting.” 

Sam joined them by the buffet table, his little brother trailing a few feet behind him. He greeted them with a smile that was far too cheery at this time of morning, before helping himself to a plate of food. “Don’t you two look fancy.”

Abigail pretended to vomit in response.

“Don’t act like you don’t hate these suits as much as I do,” Sebastian muttered. 

Sam shook his head. “Hey, just trying to have a good time. Better than working, right?” Plate fully loaded, he turned to face them. “So, who do you think the new farmer’s dancing with today?” 

“Hopefully Abigail,” Sebastian answered. 

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Seb, but the farmer has spoken to me maybe three times since he moved to town.” Abigail glanced across the field, where the farmer was chatting with Penny and Maru. “Hey, maybe he’ll ask Maru. Or Penny.”

“But Sam,” Vincent piped up beside them. “What about you and Miss Penny?”

“We’re just friends, bud,” Sam answered, giving his brother’s shoulder a pat with his free hand. “And Penny can dance with whoever she wants. Why don’t you go find Jas?”

Vincent did not take his brother’s suggestion. “Did you know that Sam lifted Miss Penny right into a tree the other day?” he told Sebastian and Abigail instead, with wide eyes. “And Jas told me that when two people are sitting in a tree-”

“Vince!” Sam silenced his brother with a look. “What did Penny tell you yesterday?” His cheeks were red, and it was difficult to tell if Sam was embarrassed that his little brother was spreading rumours about him, or embarrassed because they were actually true.

“S’not appropriate,” Vincent mumbled, head bowed. 

“Now go play with Jas,” Sam repeated, “or I’m gonna tell Mom.” With that, Vincent took off across the field at a run. 

“I bet Penny wants to climb you like a tree,” Abigail said with a laugh, once Sam’s little brother was out of earshot. “You better get over there and ask, before the farmer steals your girl.” 

“She’s not my girl,” Sam quickly replied, his cheeks still flushed.

“Mmhmm,” Abigail agreed, sounding entirely unconvinced. She shot Sebastian a knowing look, and he shifted his gaze to the ground rather than return it.

Sebastian had never really considered that Sam might have feelings for Penny. Sure, they’d been dance partners since the first year they were all old enough to participate, but then again, so had he and Abigail. They were just going through the motions, keeping up the outdated tradition to appease their parents until they were finally able to leave town - or until someone worth dancing with came along.

So why did the thought of watching his best friend dance with a girl he actually liked make him feel so nauseous, then?

He tried imagining it. Penny, in her lacy white dress with Sam’s arms around her waist, looking like the picture of a bride. His own hands clammy as he held on to Abigail, stumbling as he tried to avoid stepping on her toes. Their mothers wiping away tears at the sidelines, while Demetrius yammered on about ancient fertility rituals.

His stomach turned. The sight and smell of the heaping buffet table in front of them wasn’t helping the matter, and the growing volume of the idle chatter surrounding him threatened to tip him over the edge. 

“You guys want to blow this thing off?” he asked his two friends in a lowered voice. 

“Absolutely,” Abigail immediately agreed. Sam said nothing. 

Sebastian glanced at him. “Sam?”

“I dunno,” he admitted, followed by a hesitant glance over his shoulder in Penny’s direction. “I don’t want to leave Penny alone without a partner… I think she actually enjoys the dance. Besides, Lewis’ll probably think we’re up to something if all three of us go sneaking off.”

The rejection stung, but Sebastian brushed it off with a shrug. “Whatever. Suit yourself, then.” He took off towards the treeline without a look back, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Abigail hurry after him. 

“You good?” she asked, catching up with him in just a few strides.

“Fine,” he lied, “Just wanted to get out of there while no one was looking.”

Abigail laughed. “What would Lewis have done, anyways? Give us community service hours? You know we make up the top three already.”

They reached a small clearing in the nearby trees, and sprawled out on the grass together. Sebastian lit up a cigarette as Abigail leaned back against a tree, her mud-speckled boots poking out from under her white dress.

“I forgot to grab a snack,” she said with a sigh. “Please tell me you stuffed some food in your pockets.”

Sebastian unearthed a wrapped napkin from the pocket of his dress pants, and passed it to her. 

She gleefully tore the brown, grease-spotted paper open to reveal two pepper poppers. “You’re the best, Seb,” Abigail commented, before biting into one. 

The first drag of his cigarette did little to clear his head, his thoughts still stuck on Sam and Penny. “Do you think they actually have a thing for each other?”

“What, Sam and Penny?” she asked through a mouthful of pepper. Sebastian nodded. She appeared to consider the idea for a moment as she swallowed her food. “I mean, if he did he probably would have told you already, right? He tells you everything.” 

I thought so, he’d wanted to say. Even if Sam had been telling the truth, Sebastian couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something his best friend wasn’t telling him. “Whether I want to hear it or not,” he joked instead.

“So I doubt anything actually happened then.” Abigail shrugged. 

“You’re right,” Sebastian said, and he willed himself to believe it. After all, Sam hadn’t seemed too upset at the idea of Penny partnering up with the farmer instead. 

The only one upset is you, his brain unhelpfully supplied. 

Sebastian took another drag of his cigarette. Off in the distance he heard the opening notes of the first dance begin to play. Abigail pulled a face.

“How many more years do you think they’re going to make us participate, anyways?”

She let out a groan. “Probably until we get married, or something. Maybe we should make a marriage pact,” Abigail suggested, as she nudged his leg with the toe of her boot. “Bet we’d at least get a nice coffeemaker out of it before people realize it’s all a sham.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he replied.

“So who would you rather dance with? You know, if I weren’t the only person in the Valley willing to dance with a goblin.” She smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes in response.   

“No one? Everyone in this town sucks.”

“Everyone except the three of us,” she agreed with a sage nod. 

“Obviously.”

Eventually the music changed, signifying the end of the traditional dance. Abigail had long since finished their small stash of snacks, and Sebastian was debating whether it was worth venturing back to the festival to swipe a few more. Before he could decide, there was a rustling sound in the bushes nearby, and then Sam stepped into the clearing. 

“Some friends you guys are,” he said, “leaving me to suffer through that alone.”

“Should’ve ditched with us,” Sebastian replied. 

“And face the wrath of both my mom and Mayor Lewis after? No thanks.” He folded his arms over his chest. “The whole town thinks you two snuck off to make out, by the way.”

“Maybe we were.” Abigail wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “We don’t kiss and tell, right Seb?” 

Sebastian drove an elbow into her side as Sam gave the two of them a suspicious look. Though she was clearly joking, they were teetering dangerously on the edge of telling Sam a secret they’d promised to keep seven years ago.

“Okay… so what have you two actually been doing out here, then?” Sam asked. 

“Oh, talking about the band,” Abigail lied, and Sebastian could have actually kissed her for coming up with that answer. 

“We were just about to head back, though,” he cut in. “Abigail ate all our snacks.”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, as she stood and made an attempt to brush the backside of her dress clean. “Let’s go then, if we hang out here any longer people might actually think we’re hooking up.”

Chapter Text

Abigail

Since their disappearance at the flower dance, Abigail had been on the receiving end of more than a few raised eyebrows. It was to be expected, really, with little else to gossip about since the arrival of the farmer. 

For the most part, it was easy to ignore.

The lecture from her mother, the looks, the whispers, the fucking wolf whistle from Alex Mullner, who Abigail hadn’t realized had a death wish.

She’d shrugged it all off.

It was the change in Sam’s demeanour when the three of them met up at the Saloon on Friday night, the way his eyes darted between her and Sebastian at their next band practice, and the half-assed excuses he’d made to end their jam session early that pushed her over the edge. 

As she restocked the shelves in her dad’s store, Abigail kept her eyes trained on the clock that hung on the wall adjacent to the front desk. At quarter to four she slipped out the door, and made her way across the plaza to Sam’s house, where she let herself in with ease. Jodi hardly paid her any attention, too busy attending to a sink full of dishes in the kitchen. 

Inside Sam’s bedroom she perched on the edge of his bed, idling flipping through one of his many skateboarding magazines until his door swung open. 

Before she could say anything, he grabbed the hem of his work shirt, and pulled it over his head before letting it fall to the floor. As Sam reached to unbutton his pants, Abigail cleared her throat loudly. He looked up at her with wide eyes.

She’d played this conversation out in her head on the way over. Workshopped what she wanted to say, without sounding like a bitch - or worse, a nag. The close call of having almost seen Sam with his pants off, however, had scrambled the words in her brain, and what she asked instead was “Do you have a problem with me?”

“Other than your blatant disregard for privacy?”

Abigail shrugged. “You seemed pissed about me joining the band,” she explained, “and you’ve been acting weird lately. Weirder than usual, I mean. So I was wondering if you had a problem with me, or what?”

“I’m not upset that you joined the band,” Sam replied, as he grabbed a shirt from the pile of laundry by his door, and haphazardly pulled it on over his head. “It’s totally cool. We needed a drummer anyways, obviously, I just don’t understand why Sebastian didn’t mention it to me first. We tell each other everything, right? So I’ve just been like… wondering if he has ulterior motives or something, I dunno.”

“So you have a problem with Sebastian,” she said.

“What? No.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Well it sure sounds like you have a problem with him.”

“I don’t. He’s my friend. Sometimes friends do things that piss each other off, but I’m not, like, actually mad at him or anything. It’s fine if you guys are a thing and he doesn’t want to tell me, I guess it’s not really any of my business, anyways.”

“Since when are Sebastian and I a thing?” she asked, employing air quotes for emphasis. “Because I certainly wasn’t aware we were.”

“I’m not stupid, Abby,” he argued back. “You blew off the dance together, and he invited you to join the band without even running it by me. I would have said yes if he’d asked, you know? It’s the fact that he won’t even admit he likes you that’s pissing me off, because it’s so obvious he does, and it’s really obvious you like him too.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against his dresser, as if waiting for her to fold and confess. 

She laughed instead. 

“Why are you laughing ? I know I’m right, just admit it!”

“Dude, he blew the dance off because he was secretly upset that you’re into Penny! You’re the one that needs to fess up, apparently. And the reason he didn’t ask you if I could join the band, if you’re really wondering, is because I was upset that you didn’t include me and he offered on the spot ‘cause he felt bad.”

“Wait… what? He thinks I like Penny?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Of course that was the only bit you heard.”

Sam crossed the room to take a seat next to her on the bed. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t invite you to join the band. It’s just… we came up with the idea together, and I liked that it was something we shared, just the two of us. I should’ve realized how that would make you feel, but I didn’t even think about it. For what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you, and not just because we seriously need a drummer if we’re ever going to make it big.”

“Apology accepted,” she said. “Now, can we circle back to that bit about Penny?”

“What’s there to say?” he said with a shrug. “She’s nice, but she’s… not really my type.”

“Well now that you’ve said that you’ve gotta tell me your type,” Abigail declared, with a playful elbow to his ribs.

He shifted on the bed beside her. “I don’t know.”

“It’s not me, is it?” Abigail asked. “Yoba, is that why you were so upset? You like me, and you think he does, too?”

“I don’t have a crush on you,” he said defensively, “I have a crush on him , okay?” 

Sam finally met her eyes with a nervous look, and she placed a reassuring hand on his knee in response. “Hey, join the club.”

That, evidently, was the wrong thing to say.

He flopped back on his bed with a groan. “That’s exactly what I was worried about. You like him too, and now how am I supposed to compete with that? Obviously when he finds you he’s going to pick you .” 

“Oh, no,” she replied. “No, that ship sailed a long time ago. I meant I used to like him. Back when we were like… fourteen. He’s all yours for the taking now.”

Sam laughed derisively. “I wish.” 

“You know, I feel a lot better now that I know that the real reason you didn’t want me in the band was so you could gaze wistfully into his eyes as you serenaded him.”

“It’s not like that-”

“-I could find a convenient excuse to leave the room if you want. Tell him I’m having some uterus-only problems, I’m sure he won’t even ask if I’m gone an hour-”

“-please do not .”

“Have you told him that he’s your Wonderwall? I don’t actually know what that means, but I think it would work wonders .” Her response was met with a pillow to the back of her head, courtesy of Sam. “Oh, you’re on,” she declared, as she snatched his other pillow to deliver a hit of her own. 

Their pillow fight was short lived, with Sam surrendering after just a few blows. “My mom’s gonna think we’re having sex in here,” he protested, as she wound up for one last swing. 

“Can’t have that,” she replied, finally lowering her pillow. “My reputation’s taken enough of a hit as is.”

“I’m sorry everyone’s been so shitty about that,” Sam said. 

Abigail shrugged. “It’s whatever, I expected it. At least with the new farmer they’ll find something new to talk about eventually… even if it’s just about how great he is. ” She rolled her eyes. 

“How’s your race to the bottom of the mines going, anyways?” he asked. 

“Haven’t even made it into the mines yet, that’s how it’s going,” Abigail answered with a groan. “I did buy a sword, though, from those two old guys who run the shop beside the mines. Wouldn’t sell me anything except for some rusty piece of shit. Two hundred and fifty gold, can you believe it? I mean, I bought it obviously, but still.”

Sam whistled. “Man, two hundred and fifty gold…Better than nothing though, right?” 

“I suppose,” she agreed. “It’ll be alright for practicing. Once I find somewhere decent to practice, anyways… My dad’s been so overprotective lately it’s been almost impossible to sneak out.”

“What about the sewer?” he suggested after a moment. “This might sound kinda stupid… but Vincent heard something in there the other week. I thought maybe he was imagining things and it was just the wind… but then I heard something, too.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me sooner?”

He held up both hands in defense. “I had other things on my mind! We could check it out now, if you want.”

“Of course I want to,” she scoffed. “Lead the way.”

-----

The entrance to the sewer was quiet when they reached it, save for the rattle of the locked gate as Abigail attempted to force it open. 

When a few kicks proved to be equally ineffective, Abigail switched tactics, crouching down to grab a loose pebble from the ground instead. She chucked it between the metal bars, listening as carefully as it disappeared into the darkness, and sank into the sludge with a plop. A second splash followed, and then a third, and then the hair stood up on her neck as she heard it.

A whistle. 

“You heard it too, right?” Sam whispered beside her. Abigail reached for another rock, but he grabbed her arm before she could throw it. “Dude. What if you hurt it?” 

“It’s a monster, Sam,” she argued. 

“Yeah, but it’s not hurting anyone,” he reasoned. “Besides, how do we even know it’s a monster, anyways?”

Abigail stared wistfully at the gate. “I wish there was a way to get in… do you think we could climb down the manhole near your house?”

“Nah,” Sam shook his head, “Sebastian and I already tried breaking in once. It’s padlocked.”

“There’s got to be a key for it somewhere,” she mused. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she let out a groan as she checked her latest unread message. “Ugh, my dad wants me to come home and help with dinner. Guess I should get going then.”

“Hey Abby?” Sam asked, as she pocketed her phone again. “You won’t tell him, right? About what I said today?”

“Nah.” To show she meant her word, she stopped and held out a pink finger. Sam looped his own around hers, and they shook on it, this time making a new pinky promise that didn’t sting the way Sebastian’s had.

“Thank you,” he said. “It means a lot.”