Just Another Day

Colby Anser

Colby Anser was an unapprenticed drifter who made his living as best he could as a jack-of-all-trades, which also earned him the nickname of "Jack", sometimes "Colby Jack" if he left a decent enough impression on those who hired him. His middle name was left a mystery to all but his mother, not because of the fear of being able to be controlled by a person who knew your full name, but because he really destested the thought of being known as "Ira". The full "Colby, I are a Jack Anser" just left a bad taste in his mouth. The village fool calling him "Jack Anser" or something a bit more inappropriate and then braying was bad enough.

His father had died when he was a boy. A terrible accident involving a frightened horse and a felled tree. His mother had strictly forbidden him from becoming a lumberjack, carpenter, or anything involving working with wood. Colby was the only child she and his father had managed to produce, and she cherished him dearly. She provided for him as best she could from spinning wool, sewing, washing laundry, and other menial work for families better off when tasks were available, otherwise, she and her son worked in the village farms and orchards. Naturally, Colby became a farming errand boy right behind her. It was better than begging or slavery, but not as decent as life as a servant, and left no room for advancement to a steady career.

Not that he really wanted one. Mrs. Anser was often scolded by allowing her son to grow up so listless, but the truth was that he really wanted to be a trapper and skinner. Since he wasn't allowed to work with trees directly, it was his next best chance at getting to stay in the forest all the time. But that required an apprenticeship. None in town would take him on and the nearest guild was so far away he'd probably get eaten by a wild beast or murdered by marauders long before he reached one, and he likely couldn't afford it anyway. He had no combat skills, so hiring himself out as a guard on one of the rare caravans or for travelling traders was out of the question. It would seem he was to be stuck in this small village forever, surrounded by the temptingly thick forest, with the foreboding mountains looming in the distance.

The caravans and traders were the greatest excitement in the village. Strangers didn't come through often. The road to the village was poorly kept and they weren't on the route to any major towns. Most of their visitors honestly had taken a wrong turn and had to be directed on how to reach the village they missed on their way to the trade towns. If they were lucky, some would come through intentionally during a major holiday fair. Once they had a stranger who hadn't gotten lost. She was a very strange stranger. An unmarried maid who wore pants, whose hair appeared partially dyed, and she travelled alone, aside from the deer she had presented to the butcher and skinner. Colby was very jealous of the blasphemous level of freedom she had. She hadn't stayed more than a night before she was gone again. Perhaps it was just as well. The village could always use more strong and able-bodied people. No need for more to be trapped here than necessary.

Colby stopped hoeing weeds for a moment and stared wistfully out across one of the village's fields. In truth, he was alone in his misery. The lord of the village was kind and extravagent. His reeves and overseers were kept under scrutiny so they wouldn't abuse the serfs and peasants. He had ordered all the children to attend a small school during the winter to learn the basics of reading, writing, math, and a bit of science relevant to their way of life. Music and storytelling was strongly encouraged to lessen the monotony of the work day. He invested in his people and ensured their mutual survival. Other villagers around him were merrily pulling and hacking unwanted plants, engaging in gossip, songs, and occupational games such as who saw the most garter snakes today. Bonus points if it was in the process of eating vermin. Each felt a sense of importance contributing to the community larder and continuing the village. Except Colby.

The sun began to set and the gardeners went their separate ways to scrounge up a supper for themselves. Colby returned home to his mother. To his alarm, he found her splayed out on the floor and unconscious. He got her into her bed, and rushed to find the doctor. The doctor came right away and examined Mrs. Anser. He poked and prodded her, listened to her heart and breathing, and sadly shook his head. "She is drowning."

Colby was stunned and hardly listening as the doctor began to describe how he would try to make his mother comfortable in her final days before the house would be set ablaze the moment she died to cleanse her spirit from the water demons believed to have possessed her. The doctor again gave his condolences and dismissed himself to leave Colby with his mother and what was to be her funeral pyre. Mrs. Anser held on longer than was expected through the attentive care of her son. For this, the priest praised him, as this gave him more time to effectively perform the last rites to give her soul a good chance of being freed after death and to lessen the chances of the demon possessing Colby. The village would make allowances for the grieving and Colby was allowed to work shorter hours than usual to honor his dying mother. She seemed incoherent now, and muttered strange things to her son. When the pink cough came and Mrs. Anser grew more blue, he knew it was soon. Mrs. Anser passed quietly in the night. That following morning, the priest blessed and consecrated her body and house, and surrounded her with funerary wood before her house was ceremonially lit. The lord had come out, as was his custom, and gave many compassionate words about Mrs. Anser and her contributions to the village.

The Anser family's meagre straw house was engulfed in flames in a matter of moments. All that Colby had known was gone by noon, and only smoldering ruins were left behind by dusk. The only thing in his possession were the clothes on his back. A sympathetic neighbor took him in until he could build his own straw house after harvest. There was no spare bed, so he had to sleep on the floor with the cow.

It was the time of the wheat harvest. There was little time to mourn as the most important event of the year was underway. All who were old enough and strong enough to stand where in the fields gathering the wheat, rye, barley, peas, and beans, even long into the night as the full harvest moon shone over them and provided sufficient light for them to work under. The women were tying up the sheaves about as quickly as the men could bring them in. After the harvest was the threshing and winnowing before it could be taken to the watermill to create the life-giving flour that was the foundation of their diet. The lord of course praised them heartily for a good harvest that year, and threw one of his grand feasts to reward his villagers. Colby was in no mood to celebrate.

The harvest season passed into the slaughter season, and the animals that could be afforded to slaughter were killed and smoked to provide meat through the winter. Winter was the time of construction since people could be spared to raise and properly repair buildings, and children were safely kept off of work sites by being in school. It was time for Colby to leave his temporary home and find his own place.

Colby thanked his generous neighbors and left them. He wandered aimlessly through the village. He helped to weave baskets, dig ditches, conduct repairs, aid with new construction, and oversee children gathering kindling twigs. At night, he slept in the communal barn with the animals and other homeless who could not afford to build their own home. Colby paid his rent by helping to muck the stalls.

Spring came, and Colby's mood worsened. It was time to plant and plough, and bridal games were underway as maids and lads flirted as shamelessly and gayly as the new life around them. He was in his early twenties, strong, straight-backed, fair enough to look at that the village jester didn't have any snide remarks to make about him, but without any kind of property to offer he had little chance of any maid looking his way.

Mrs. Anser's warnings were becoming fainter as the woods looked more tempting than ever. What monsters could possibly lurk in the woods? It had been years since anybody had been reported missing or found maimed. The ghouls of the forest must be no more than stories to frighten children. Colby began straying from the village before spring was over.

The forest at first was no different than how it appeared from the edges of the village where the children and gatherers foraged. As he began to explore farther and farther, the growth became older and more tangled. He could hear small things scurrying just out of sight that didn't sound like small animals. Some of them weren't all that small. Colby found strange tracks that weren't made by any creature he was aware of. One such creature finally made itself known. An ugly, lizard-like thing with a rat's tail. Many of them. They were angry, and brandishing spears. Colby ran. The kobolds chased.

Colby was quite lost when the kobolds left him alone. He had scrambled far and jumped over and around many unfamiliar trees, rocks, and logs in an attempt to lose them. Now he was out in the wilderness without any indication where the village lay. He managed to find a semi-hollow log that appeared unused, and cleaned it out enough to make a bed for the night. A cave near the village was full of flint and fool's gold, so nearly everybody was able to carry some with them. Colby found enough dry sticks and leaves to make a campfire with a rock and bit of flint, and huddled near it during the night. Little eyes gleamed all around him, but none approached him.

Forest Demon

Despite being lost and alone, this was the most peace Colby had felt in a very long time. It felt natural and right. However, he was hungry. Colby remembered tales from his father about how he would sometimes eat part of a tree as a snack. It wasn't much of a meal, but after much chewing, he felt a little more satisfied after gnawing key parts of surrounding saplings. A bit more digging in his temporary home revealed a few grubs, which he swallowed as well. Bark and beetles made an odd meal, but would keep him going for another day.

His thoughts kept straying to his mother's final days, and some of the things she said to him. She had said their family had a beast inside that couldn't be constrained to normal village life, and that's why she hadn't pushed him harder. It had been years since there had been an incident, but she wanted to take no chances lest he was discovered and killed. They had moved to this village four generations ago because of an incident in a far away village. One of her last words to him gave him permission to finally enter the forest. He had dismissed it as the delirium before death. Out here, in the wilderness, it started seeming a bit more than that. Or perhaps the solitude was getting to him?

Colby plodded between the trees, snacking on sprouts, twigs, and insects, hoping to find his way home. He wouldn't be too terribly missed since there wasn't much to do in the gardens this time of year beyond hoe weeds and scare birds. An old, gnarly tree stood before him, with many low lying limbs. Curiosity struck, and he climbed as high as he could to see if he could get a better view of where he was and where he wished to go.

He squinted against the bright sunlight as he gazed around the treetops. At last, he saw the vast expanse of fields and grass, and little puffs of smoke from the cooking fires. Now righted, he climbed down out of the tree, and strode off toward the village. Colby was greeted warmly, many having feared he had been killed. Colby assured them he was fine, and that the worst that had happened was being chased off course by angry lizard beasts. One of the kinder peasants gave him a bite to eat before he had to go back to work in the fields. His labor contributions had been sorely missed after all.

Sleeping in the stables was growing tiresome. Colby began focusing on doing chores for the wealthier families so he could afford to have his own hut built. One elderly couple became rather fond of him and hired him often to drive them to worship services, groom their horses, and chop their firewood on the days their own children were unable to help them. This worked well until one of the sons became irritated that Colby was receiving part of his future inheritance, and was quick to make his frustration known to the handyman. Nursing a black eye and bruised lip, Colby moved on to find other employers.

Something strange began to happen. Colby began to feel he was being watched. How absurd that someone would take to following him around! He never saw who it was, or even knew who it could be, but he was very sure it was happening. A shadow darting just out of sight, the rustle of grass and leaves, and a growing sense of unease was the only proof he had. Colby didn't dare voice his concerns to anybody else. If he was being haunted or had become mental, an even worse life lay before him than what he had now.

As Colby lay restlessly in his pile of straw in the communal barn, a strange shadow was cast on the ground. He sat up suddenly and stared at the window. There, in the pale light of a waning half moon, sat a strange creature on the sill. It was only partially human, with marked animal features, and wings spread out behind it. Colby froze as he stared at it, and it tilted its head as it looked at him.

"Wh... what do you want?" Colby asked shakily.

"You smell strange," it replied softly, careful to keep its voice low only for Colby's ears.

"I'm... sorry?" Colby gave an unsure apology.

"You don't smell like the others," it remarked.

"I am sorry about my smell," Colby said with shame. "I cannot rub myself with plants like the others."

"Not that smell," it said. "Your scent is somewhat like mine."

Colby became very nervous. "What are you?"

"Kurach," it said simply.

Colby gasped and made a quick gesture before him to beg the blessing of the gods. "Heavens help me, a forest demon!"

"Hardly," it replied with irritation. "I can see you are not ready yet. Goodbye for now."

Colby tried to steady his breathing long after it had disappeared. First his mother, and now him. What had his family done to be cursed so?

Midnight Run

Colby was so distracted by his disturbing visit the night before that he kept unintentionally damaging the crops while pruning. He was scolded roundly and sent away to scare birds with the children. He did not pay attention very well to this either and before long the children ran him off as well. Colby fretted and wrung his hands as he sat on a low stone wall by a lane. Would the kurach leave him alone on its own? Should he go beg forgiveness from the priest now? His stomach rumbled and he realized he was going to have to make a decision if he wanted to continue to eat. Colby returned to the fields and kept his mind steady enough he could work and earn his evening porridge. He spent his free time in prayer at the church as he wrestled with the turmoil in his mind.

Summer and the shearing season came. Colby had almost forgotten about his midnight visitor as he sat carding and sorting wool. The spinning wheels and their operators were beginning to sing as enough wool was getting washed and cleaned to be spun. Colby was in a chipper mood and worked quickly enough he earned a pastry as a reward. Life had returned to normal and he was even beginning to earn enough he might could even afford to get his own hut built this winter!

Still, there was the foreboding forest beside the village, sinisterly beckoning him back in with promises of that eerie tranquility he had felt when he was inside. One bright summer night when the moon was full and there was a lull between the harvesting seasons, Colby inadvertently found himself walking among the trees again. Mildly alarmed, he caught himself, and looked around frantically to determine where he was.

"You want to leave already?" asked a familiar voice. Colby spun around and his eyes widened in horror. There was that feathered demon again! He took a step back, stumbled, fell, and scrambled backward along the ground for a moment. The kurach sat down on a rock, looking annoyed. "There is no need for that."

"Did you lure me out here?" Colby demanded.

"Despite what you flightless things believe, we possess no supernatural magical powers of mind control," the kurach sighed, and flashed a fanged grin. "We do, on occasion, find you tasty."

Colby gulped and held very still, weighing his odds of surviving an encounter.

"It was a joke," the kurach said with a frown. "Are all of you this nervous and boring? Is that why you plow the same fields, year in and year out, and never really do anything? Are you going to be sleeping in that same pile of dead grass forever?"

Colby looked down sadly and didn't say anything. He had been asking himself the same questions and found no answers to it that he liked.

"Tonight, just for tonight, let's leave all that behind," the kurach said with a grin and stood up. He extended a hand to the shivering stranger below. "Come with me. Let's enjoy the forest."

The peasant eyed the half-beast cautiously, obviously tempted, but afraid of the implications of accepting. Demons were deceptive by nature, and could appear as charming as was necessary to lure others to an unfortunate end. Would it really be tonight, just tonight, and tonight only?

"Just the one night," the kurach said again, as if reading his mind. "You can go back to your boring life and I'll never approach you again."

Against his better judgment, Colby took the kurach's hand, and was hauled to his feet. It was one of the best nights he had ever had. They ran between the trees and watched fireflies. They swam in a creek by moonlight and ate a roasted fish. They rolled in a meadow and ate sun-sweetened berries. Then they settled down in the long grass to be serenaded to sleep by the crickets, frogs, and night birds.

Colby woke up to shy morning glories peeking at him under a heavy dew. A bit embarrassed at having let himself go wild the night before, Colby collected his clothes from a nearby branch, relieved to find they were dry after last night's washing in the creek. To his surprise, his garments and his body both smelled much more pleasant now. The kurach was gone, and when he looked around, he found a few stones arranged in an arrow, presumably the way back to the village. A tiny ball of dread formed in the pit of his stomach as he made his way home. What chores had he unintentionally shirked by gallivanting through the forest last night? To his disappointment, he found nobody had missed him. The barnskeeper had assumed he had an early start and didn't think anything of him missing from his pile of hay that morning.

The other villagers were friendlier to him today. Some of the maids even smiled at him! Colby simply blushed and looked shyly away. He was only used to being ignored. When he went to perform chores for one of his elderly couples, the old lady complimented him on how well he had cleaned himself up, and gave him a bit of honey cake. As Colby sat nibbling on his unexpected prize, he couldn't help but wonder how much of this had to do with his romp in the forest. Could demons bestow blessings after all? Or was this part of their usual grand scheme to lavish you with treats before devouring you? At the moment, he was enjoying his treatment too much to care.

After a week, he became dirty and began to smell bad again, and the others treated him the same as before. His thoughts began to wander to another blissfully carefree excursion into the woods.

A Stranger Comes to Town

"You came back?" the kurach asked warmly when he heard footfalls behind him.

Colby exhaled nervously as he approached the same rock the kurach had sat on when he had tempted Colby on their evening adventure. Here he perched again, as if he expected the peasant to return. Colby eventually sat down off to the side. "They were nicer to me the next morning."

"Confidence and ease are attractive qualities," the kurach shrugged. "That was the most relaxed I have seen you."

"I thought you said you would leave me alone after that night?" Colby demanded.

"I did," the kurach replied. "That night was the best I've seen you. I assumed you felt just as good the next morning too."

Colby sat in conflicted silence, trying to decide what he should do. "You don't understand how hard this is for me."

The kurach looked at him with a wry grin. "Well, let me show you the way to the creek so you can bathe regularly during the summer."

The peasant consented to at least that much, and was very grateful for it. The kurach disappeared shortly afterward and Colby had no choice but to find his way back to the village. He did not yet trust himself to play in the forest alone. The nights passed in spells of fitful sleep as he was torn about whether he should try to keep meeting with the kurach or not.

His decision was made in a most distressing way. A few days later, a stranger strolled into town. Clean shaven, well groomed despite having somewhat unkempt hair, and a fire in his eyes that Colby knew all too well. He declared his name was "Farkas Tait" and came offering himself as a laborer. He was heartily welcomed with the harvest just around the corner. The villagers promised him free lodgings if he was able to work sufficiently to cover the cost of the food and room to board him. He gave the innkeeper a decent lump of good silver to cover his expenses for a month, which was gratefully accepted.

Colby brooded at a table in the corner as the stranger was lavished with attention and was charming all that he talked to. Farkas did not know how to play some of the local games, but was a quick study, and was soon besting many of the others, which earned him even more attention and worsened Colby's mood further. When it was time to start bringing in the harvest, Farkas could swing a scythe with such strength and swiftness he outpaced the others. Weeks of this went on. Another loud night at the tavern and Colby could not resist a confrontation. During a brief moment when Farkas was unattended, Colby sat down across from him.

"I know what you are," Colby said quietly with a stern glare. "Why are you here bothering me again?"

"Not once have I approached you," Farkas said innocently.

"Is he giving you trouble?" asked one of the other laborers as he joined them.

"Not at all," Farkas said cheerily. "In fact, we were just getting to introductions. Who are you, lad?"

"Eh, pfft, he's just Colby," the laborer scoffed. "Some unwed widow's son. Pay him no mind."

Glowering at the pair of them, Colby stormed out of the tavern. Whatever hopes he had at possibly rising to some importance in the village was just vividly laid out before him again that he had no past and no future. He would be an impoverished, unimportant laborer all his days and his time to have a family had already been spent and gone the day he lost his mother as she had been the last family he would ever have.

Colby stumbled blindly through the forest, barely able to see through his anger, grief, and frustration. He missed his parents sorely, he cursed his wretched circumstances, and most of all, he cursed Farkas for teasing him with that midnight run and then showing up at his village and making him look worse than he already did. It was becoming more than he could bear and before long he had himself worked up into the worst rage he had ever felt. The harvest was over, what would they care if he was gone? Colby settled down between a rock and a tree, huddled up against the chill of early autumn, and sobbed himself to sleep. He did not want to go back to his meaningless existence.

Many Strangers Come to Town

The distressed peasant was roused the next afternoon by the one face he wanted to see the least. He lashed out at Farkas and cursed him roundly. "What do you want now!?"

"You are missed," Farkas said simply.

"By who? Who could possibly miss me when they have you instead?" Colby demanded.

"A little old lady who wanted driven to church this morning," Farkas replied.

Colby groaned and stared at the ground. "Well, maybe her children should get off their lazy backsides and help her out more often. They all hate me looking after her anyway."

"That they do, and they did not miss you, but that old woman did," Farkas said gleefully. "The stable hand thought well of the care you took of his horse too. You could have a job with them if those pesky adult children weren't in the way."

"I doubt you'd be helpful with that," Colby said grumpily.

"Indeed, I cannot," Farkas said and sat down on a rock, as was his wont. "I think I understand how hard all this is on you now."

"What?" Colby stared at him blankly.

"A few months ago you challenged me. You said that I don't understand how hard it is for you to meet me in the forest. So, I came to your world for a month to experience village life, away from the forest," Farkas explained. "I helped harvest your food, I attended your church services, I drank your ale, and I listened to your village gossip and superstitions."

"Oh," Colby said.

"I learned that many of you hold a deep fear of the forest and us 'demons', although with good cause," Farkas said and flashed a suspiciously fanged grin for a human face. "And your greatest duty is to mind your place, work hard, stay in your ranks, and don't cause any trouble. You have a terrible place at the very bottom."

"Pretty much," Colby sighed. "We have a good lord though. We shouldn't complain about our lots."

"Oh, but you should. The next village had a terrible fire last week. Lost all their homes, and a lot of food. They're coming to your village," Farkas said.

"What? How do you know?" Colby asked suspiciously.

"My people have a broad network," Farkas replied. "And that village invaded it. So they were turned out. It's a small village, so it won't be that bad. They're bringing their livestock with them too."

Colby felt a growing sense of panic. The village wouldn't be able to keep that many refugees, not without some sacrifices. He would be one of the first ones cut loose.

"I am not your enemy," Farkas said earnestly. "You know what I am, and I know what you are. I've come to look after you. The other beggars will be fine, many of that village are wealthy, and what food they bring with them will support both villages through the winter."

"But I won't be fine?" Colby demanded and snorted. "You have a lot of faith in me."

"More beggars to push you further down the pecking order," Farkas pointed out. "Some of theirs are healthier, more dashing, and better connected than you."

"How long until the other villagers arrive?" Colby asked slowly.

"I would say another week or two. They have to let the cattle and sheep graze, after all," Farkas replied nonchalantly. "There will be no room in the barn for you with all those new fuzzy heads coming in. It's not so bad now in autumn, even if it's a bit chilly at night, but when the cold winds of winter blow..."

It was unnecessary to say more. He still hadn't managed to save enough to have a hut built, most likely would not by winter, and even with the annual slaughter there wouldn't be enough room in the barn for him to stay in there this winter. His time in the village was coming to an abrupt end. Either he could gamble with not freezing to death in the streets or he could try to leave. He wouldn't be missed with all the newcomers. "I don't need this temptation right now. Be gone!"

Farkas sighed and rolled his eyes. "Don't say I didn't warn you." With a nod of his head, he left the brooding beggar behind.

Colby's head was reeling even more now. Should he try to become a stablehand to the current or new horse owners? Neglect his farming duties long enough to gather the materials he needed to build a hut by himself and continue the work he did now? Follow the call growing louder and louder to flee into those inviting mountains? A barking kobold interrupted his thoughts and he finally began to return to the village with disgust. The little lizard-rats certainly weren't as intimidating as they used to be. Duty beckoned and Colby didn't have time to waste brooding. He gathered himself up and returned to the village once more, and set to trying to make the best impression he could to increase his chances when the refugees arrived.

The newcomers were nearly a third of the village's population and the strain was felt immediately. The lord and his guard scrambled to arrange matters to take in the uprooted villagers and set crews to making new houses, enlarging pens for the extra livestock, and plowing new fields in the hopes they could plant enough fast growing crops to feed all the new hungering mouths.

Farkas remained in the village and with his earned influence, he set Colby to many tasks that had him in contact with many other influential overseers. Colby was not sure whether to be grateful at the help or annoyed at the extra fatigue set into his body. Perhaps both. After weeks of hard work, Farkas even suggested that such a good labourer as Colby shouldn't be sleeping in the barn or on the streets, and a hut was built for him. Colby stood sheepishly in front of his new home, barely able to believe it had finally become a reality.

"Does this please you?" Farkas asked with a hint of smugness as he stepped behind the former beggar.

"I cannot begin to repay you for this..." Colby trailed off as he gazed at it. "You could stay with me instead of at the inn. Save your silver. It's been a long time since I had my own stove, but I could learn to cook again."

"My time with this village is nearly over," Farkas said as a frigid autumn wind blew. "But perhaps I shall visit you, if you continue to visit me in the forest."

"I should like that very much," Colby said warmly. With a nod, Farkas turned and left. When the winter festivities began, Colby was able to host a small party, but Farkas had already left the village and didn't attend.

Winter was long and hard, harder than usual, and Colby discovered he had a generous nature. He allowed a few others to stay by his fire away from the piles of snow. This earned him respect and gratitude from many, and things finally seemed to have turned around for him.

But spring would come, and with it, fulfilling promises of meeting in the forest.

Disruption

"Thank ye for the warm fire, but it is time for me to return to the barn before I exhaust yer hospitality," said one of Colby's winter house guests as he shook his host's hand firmly. Colby nodded to him with a soft smile and waved goodbye to him as he left. That was the last of the beggars who had kept him company through the colder months. With his privacy restored, it was time to begin sneaking away at night for romps in the woods.

Farkas was waiting for the villager at his usual place and without a word they began to stroll together between the trees.

"Are things better now?" Farkas asked when they reached the meadow.

"My life is perfect and I have you to thank for it," Colby replied warmly as he settled down in the grass.

"The way some of the villagers talked, life isn't perfect until you have cubs," Farkas said with a sly grin.

"No, not for me," Colby shrugged. "Not with any of the village ladies, anyway."

Farkas raised an eyebrow and looked at him from the corner of his eye. "Who else do you have in mind then?"

"I don't know," Colby replied thoughtfully. "There are a lot of pretty women who'd make good mothers and good wives, but I just don't have any interest in them anymore."

"Must I find you a mate too?" Farkas teased.

"I'm not totally useless!" Colby scoffed.

"Then what's the reluctance?" Farkas pressed. "You're not bored, are you?"

"I'm always bored," Colby admitted with shame. "Greed is such a horrible wickedness. If I could ever learn to be content with life, I would be much happier. I have had an amazingly fortunate and blessed life. I should be happy."

"So, why aren't you? Why are you so ungrateful?" Farkas asked.

"I don't know," Colby sighed. "And I deeply apologize for such a flaw."

"Eh, no need to apologize to me," Farkas said and shrugged. "I must be getting back to my route. Take care of yourself until next time."

Colby warmly wished him farewell and returned to the village. The long season of weeding and chasing off birds was well underway and many nights Colby would sneak to the forest to talk to Farkas. One balmy summer evening when Colby returned, he found his house occupied by one of the less savoury new arrivals, rudely eating his food in his bed!

"Excuse you, but that is not yours," Colby said with a frown. "Please leave."

"You leave. You are out in that forest more than you're here. I'm comfortable," the thug said and put another spoonful of porridge in his mouth.

"This is my home and I can go where I want when my chores are completed!" Colby protested.

"So can I, which includes empty houses!"

"It's not empty! I live here!"

The argument began to escalate. The thug threw the empty wooden bowl at Colby and it cracked a rock in the floor. Then the thug grabbed hold of Colby and they began to wrestle and trade blows. Stalks of grass floated to the ground as they became dislodged from the rolling and wrestling villagers below. Colby felt himself growing angrier and angrier the more belligerent the trespasser became.

The vandal grabbed one of the rough wooden chairs and broke it over Colby's back, which knocked him to the ground. Colby felt a rage come over him he had not felt before and jumped to his feet to teach the intruder a proper lesson. He succeeded, but not in the way he expected.

The thug shrieked and ran out the door screaming. A crowd had been gathering outside the hut and were wondering what quiet Colby could have possibly done to frighten a person so.

"Colby is a demon! Colby is a demon!" the intruder chanted over and over as he went fleeing for his life.

Colby stepped outside and was met with screams and curses. Puzzled, and dazed, he held up a hand to beseech a chance to speak, and instead saw a furry paw extended. With growing horror, he finally understood what the "inner beast" was his late mother had warned him about. The villagers began to advance on him, quickly becoming an angry mob. A torch was lit and they intended to lock him inside, and burn him up in the straw.

Panicking and desperate, Colby made a made dash for the safety of the trees. He was chased the whole way, having rocks and insults flung at him, until he was well within the treeline where the villagers dared not go. He hid behind a rock, panting and fretting, and watched as the sky lit up. His beautiful new hut had been burned without him, as it was believed to be cursed and tainted by him.

Whimpering and whining, he watched the distant blaze, until it extinguished itself, and with it, any hopes of ever living in the village again. Colby curled up where he lay and cried himself to sleep, not caring if he lived through the night.

Acceptance

The crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs brought Colby to his senses the next morning and he jumped to his furry feet. To his frustration, he was still a wild animal, and worse, there stood that cursed forest demon who meddled so much in his life!

"I knew you were one of us," Farkas said with a knowing smile.

"You did this to me! I was a normal man before you came into my life!" Colby accused. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"

"Nothing, brother," Farkas said. "A long time ago, our people mingled, and you are a descendant of that. Our blood lies dormant in most of the children or is absent altogether, but, sometimes, a drop holds on, and takes over."

Colby stared at him for a while, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "I can move to another village. Like my great-great-grandfather did when he came here after an incident. I can still be a man."

"Is that really want you want?" Farkas asked with raised eyebrows and his head tilted slightly.

"Where else can I go?" Colby asked sadly. "It's all I know."

"You will never truly be one of us, but, we can satisfy you more than that village ever could," Farkas said with a fanged grin and extended a hand. "Like you said, where else can you go?"

Colby looked at the invitation. He looked around at the trees, at the trickle of smoke climbing into the sky from his smoldering hut, and then he looked at this beautiful, inviting mountains. Smiling wistfully, he placed his furry paw into Farkas' hand, and then felt himself revert back to himself.

"Now, don't get your hopes up," Farkas warned when Colby looked ecstatic. "Once turned, you will never be able to fully suppress it again. It will keep coming out whether you like it or not. You might as well come with me so we can teach you how to control it."

Colby did not argue and happily began to follow him. Who knows? Maybe there will be a cute demoness waiting for me in the forest!

Related chapter...

• Chapter 21: Travelling North