Mischiefs in the Dark

Amelia’s gaze fell upon a mysterious flower that she picked up from a traveling merchant that was passing through the forest. She glanced at the paper with scribbled writing on it.

“Do not feed it after midnight. Do not water it, ever, for the silver lily requires no water. And under no circumstances do not…” She squinted, curiously eyeing the torn paper in hand. ‘Odd… I remember it being intact.’ She thought to herself but dismissed her doubts quickly. She traced the silvery metallic leaf of the lily with her index finger, marveling at the beauty of it. It was the most unique plant she had ever seen, and she had seen plenty. She picked it up and gently set it on the kitchen counter, laying down her herbology tome beside it. She flipped it open to the table of content and traced the list of flowers quickly.

No mention of metallic flowers, and especially no mention of any silver lilies. But her intuition told her that there was more to the flower than meets the eye. She sighed, giving up on the herbology tome, she made her way back to the chair, grabbing a wooden mug filled with herbal brew she had previously prepared. She sat down, pondering, recalling a recent story she had heard, spread by the messenger sparrows to all witches in the region and beyond. A story of one of theirs finding the rarest artifact – a Snow Rose. The stories goes as follows – ‘a witch of blood, a mighty witch, discovered the artifact at random, and upon sacrificing her blood to it, the flower blossomed, granting her wish.’ She shot another glance at the metallic flower on the counter of her kitchen.

“Doubt it…. Besides, that’s a lily, not a rose.” she remarked.

After a few sips of the brew, she found herself dozing off. What ensued were dreams unlike she had before. In the dream a creature spoke to her.

“Awaken me with food and fluid.” It whispered to her from the shadows beyond. She couldn’t see it, she couldn’t see anything but darkness that surrounded her. A witch is hardly afraid of the dark. She lifted her hand, palm pointing up.

“Lumin fe dur.” She whispered softly and a glowing orb appeared in the palm of her hand. It disappeared just as suddenly, after a bright flash, and from the shadows, the unsettling voice giggled.

“gehehe… no no… The dreams and darkness are mine to rule.”

Amelia smirked.

“As if a demon could frighten a witch.” Her eyes turned color, and pupils changed shape. Slits like dragon’s eyes peered through the empty darkness, into the endless void of nothingness. No creatures, not even walls or a floor of any sorts. The plane of darkness was all but also nought. She smirked playfully.

“Alright then, fiend of darkness, you win this one.”

The darkness remained silent, conceding its defeat.

She snapped her fingers and awoke in an instant in the comfort of her chair that had changed shape to support her back and head. She glanced around, all was calm, the night was young.

“Thank you darling.” She whispered, patting the armrest of the chair made of vines that slowly shifted its shape back into a regular chair. She slowly got up and approached the silvery flower on the counter that glistened ever so playfully in the rays of moon’s light that beamed through the dust covered window. She pondered, eyeing the strange flower. ‘Do not feed it after midnight… Do not water…’ Her curiosity battled her rational thoughts. ‘No creature can harm me, short of a dragon, and even that is more likely to obey a witch.’ Contemplating, doubting, considering. Though the battle of her thoughts came to an abrupt end when a familiar sound caught her attention, the sound of a claw dragging itself on her door.

She gasped.

The sound persistent. Slow and steady, a beast dragged its claws through the wooden door, gouging chunks of wood with ease. She took a slow breath to calm herself, a vile beast found itself at her door once more. A slow step toward the door gave away her intent as the floorboard betrayed her and squeaked. The ear-piercing screech echoed through the silent hut. The beast stopped in its tracks. Amelia glanced down at the floor and tapped the board with her foot.

“SHH!!” She angrily hissed. The floorboard squeaked in response.

“Pardon, I fell asleep…” It replied and then spread roots from itself into nearby planks, fixing itself in place so as to not squeak again.

She took another cautious step toward the door. Her pounding heart slowed at last. The beast responded, its hearing sharp and instincts even sharper. It hissed and growled, chilling the air around it with its terrifying aura. Amelia reached for the door handle.

“Who is it?” She bravely swung the door open, and her eyes shot open wide from fright and shock of what she saw before her. On the ‘welcome’ rug by her door sat a black furred beast. It’s fur darker than the darkness surrounding it, standing out like a silhouette in the night. It cast no shadow; it was the shadow. The monstrous creature stretched and meowed.

“Mmmeowrning Amelia.” It meowed.

She glared down at the cat.

“Lance. Where have you been?”

The cat sat up and licked its paw.

“Ohh nya nyow, hunting, guarding.”

She stepped aside, welcoming the black cat into her house.

“Come on, it’s cold tonight.”

The cat ran in hastily and glanced around. A quick sniff revealed something unusual, but the cat heeded it no attention, it simply did not care, and went straight for its box by the fireplace,

“an extinguished fireplace,”

Lance uttered sarcastically.

Amelia shut the door but not before a firefly buzzed past her head. She glanced at the fireplace.

“Lance… Stop whining and do something about it then.”

The cat peeked at her through a hole in the box and yawned.

“Nyooohhh… I’m just a cat, remember? Nyat my place to be lighting fires, o’mighty witch Amelia…”

He proceeded to mock her.

“Lance, shut up before I turn you into a sparrow…”

“As if nyo could!” The cat replied and glanced at the fireplace, the wood stacked within it set ablaze the same moment.

Amelia grinned. “Bet you I can!”

The cat laid back down, closed its eyes and took a deep sigh.

“Bet you won’t.”

“Oi! Don’t doubt me Lance. I would and I can.”

“Try meow…” The cat dared her, peeking with one half-open eye.

She took a firm step toward the black cat. Another step… The cat watched her curiously. She suddenly knelt down and run her fingers through the soft fur of its head and neck. It let out an instinctive purr.

“I won’t” she concluded, and the cat brushed its head against her hand.

“Mmmmeeoww. So, what’s that?” Its gaze darted to the counter and Amelia, taking a seat on the floor by the comforting fire, explained to Lance her dream, and the encounter with the merchant. Lance listened attentively.

“Sounds like a dark-fae… or a gremlin.” He concluded.

“Oh! That actually makes total sense.” And it did. Gremlins were creatures of the shadows, of the nights. They were loyal servants, but mischievous creatures that liked to play pranks on their victims, and masters alike. Gremlins were fae creatures, often imperceivable by anyone they do not wish to be seen by.

“Do it!” Lance commented after a short moment of contemplating.

“Do what?” She requested.

“Feed it, water it, and whatever the last thing to do that you’re not supposed to.” Lance demanded.

“Lance no! Stop! Get some help! You do NOT summon suspicious creatures because you can…” She paused.

“Well okay, yes you do, especially YOU…. Mister ‘woops half the city disappeared becoz I found a titan summoning scroll.’” She concluded.

Lance grinned widely.

“Oh it was fun!”

“Wasn’t fun for the temporal wizards rewinding the time of the objects to undo the destruction.”

Lance grinned “but it WAS hilarious watching them cursing the existence of ancient artifacts… and for me to meow needily at them while they tried to focus.” The mischievous cat recalled with a grin. “Until that damned dragon man kicked me off the roof…”

“Oh the one whose leg you paralyzed? Yeah, poor fella, I HAD TO HEAL HIM AFTER THAT YOU KNOW!???”

Lance shrugged.

“Not my fault you’re so nice… ‘Twas easy money for you though.” The cat got up and in a few swift leaps made it to the kitchen counter, poking at the metallic lily with its paw.

“What’s a gremlin when you tame dragons?”

Amelia approached the table.

“Still don’t know the last uhm… requirement.”

The cat tapped the counter with his paw.

“Let me see it, the instructions.”

She laid down the scribbled-on paper and the cat examined it for a while, scanning it attentively.

“If memory serves me right… it should say ‘Under no circumstances, do not fall to its temptation’.” He concluded.

Amelia pondered for a while.

“You think?”

Lance nodded. “Mhmm… And knowing you… you might just fall into its temptation, miss ‘oh what’s the worst that could happen? I’ma follow that voice into the dark cave of the elder horror sacrifice cult, it sounds so alluring.’”

He remarked sarcastically once more.

“LANCE!! Don’t remind me!!! It was so embarrassing the entire committee was laughing at me falling into the voice’s lure.”

The cat chuckled “nyahaha… don’t remind me of the city destruction then.” 

She sighed. “You’re a bully…”

The cat winked at her.

“Says miss ‘I’ll turn you into a INSERT A THREATENING EXISTENCE here…’ hmph.”

She reached for the cat that evaded her touch at first but then nuzzled its snout against her hand.

“Love ya Meli…” he whispered.

She gently ran her hand through his fur.

“Lance you’re an idiot. Alright, let’s see what this brings.” She reached for a pot with soil, and a cup that she filled with water she conjured out of thin air.

She grabbed the lily and placed its stem into the soil filled pot. The cat watched the events curiously.

“Nyow add water!”

She nodded, slowly tipping the cup and pouring a bit of water over the soil. The flower’s metallic colors changed from silvery to bronze’ish. She eyes curiously as the flower’s bulb opened up more, but then, nothing happened. It’s as if the time itself stood still.

“And…?” She glanced at Lance who shrugged.

“Well, you didn’t feed it yet…”

She furrowed her eyebrow.

“What do lilies eat?” She inquired. Lance sighed.

“You’re the witch of nature not me, what kind of witch of nature doesn’t know how to care for plants?”

She glared at Lance.

“Shut up. Nitrogen, phosphorus, calcium, etc… I know! I meant, this isn’t an ordinary plant.”

The cat smirked. “Is it not? Seems normal to me, just metallic… what does bronze like?”

She glanced around.

“Uhhh… copper?”

The cat shrugged.

“I would guess so… got any copper around?”

After a brief scavenger hunt through her hut, where most everything was made of wood, she found a few bits of copper, a few hooks, and a bracelet. Upon placing a small hook on the plant, she covered it with her hands, cupping gently the metallic plant and the piece of copper in her soft, warm hands. She closed her eyes and mumbled a chant under her breath. A faint glow emitting between her fingers was informative enough that the idea worked. The cat watched her uncover the flower with a bemused expression.

“Whoa! It’s gold, congratulations Meli! You’ve uncovered alchemy, the ability to transmute metals. We’re gonna be rich!” His voice had a hint of sarcasm to it. She glared at him unamused. Silence befell, nothing happened, until shadows spoke.

“Ghehehe, greetings.” A soft and playful voice whispered from the shadows.

Amelia glanced around but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just talking shadows.

“Ameowsing, reveal yourself.” The cat sniffed the air, it’s gaze daring rapidly between different corners. Sometimes the ceiling, sometimes floor, as if trying to track a very fast or perhaps teleporting creature.

“Nyeahh, stop!” He commanded, slamming his paw on the counter. A squeal followed, and from nothingness, a shape emerged. Held by its tail, a small creature on all fours tried to break lose from the cat’s predatory grasp. It vaguely resembled a creature similar to a cat, dark in color with light blue streaks decorating its back. The creature glanced over its shoulder, squealed again, like a mouse, and then disappeared. Lance let out an annoyed ‘tsk’ as he lost the grasp.

“Sly bastard.” He remarked.

The shadows spoke again.

“Amelia of the forest, I exist for you.”

She raised her eyebrows, leaning against the counter, extending her palm up.

“Then come sit on my hand and show yourself.” she demanded. A moment of silence, and then she felt something jump into the palm of her hand.

“Assssss you wish…” The voice screeched, somewhat displeased. The creature took shape once more, standing before her on all fours, glaring at her.

“Witch of nature, witch of forest. I shall be your aid.”

She glanced at Lance.

“No need, already got that idiot… What else can you do?”

The creature glared at the cat, displeased.

“I am better.” It proclaimed. “I can fight and conquer, I can clean and scrub. I can comfort I can guide.”

The cat unenthusiastically licked his paw.

“And I can summon ancient titans.”

“I am better.” The creature proclaimed again.

“Nyahah! I am!”

Amelia watched their exchange, bemused for a while until she grew tired of the pointless quarrel.

“Alright silence. Tomorrow’s customer, you shall aid with him, and I’ll decide your worth based on your performance. Should you disappoint, I’ll rid of you at once. Should you please, and you may stay.” She patted the head of the strange creature with a finger and then sat it on the counter.

“Asssss you wishhhh your majesty.”

The rest of the night proved rather restless, to her regret. Soon as her head hit the pillow, she heard shuffling of Lance getting comfy in his box. A minute later, his breathing calmed, a hiss followed and then a loud meow. As Lance lied down to rest in his box, in the comfort of his home, in the warmth of the fire, he felt the gremlin sneak in beside him. At first, he was fine, and minded not sharing the warmth. But the gremlin’s thoughts were a mind of his own. He stepped on the cat’s tail and then pulled by it.

“Leave me be, let me stay here.”

The gremlin demanded. The cat disapproved, and paws were thrown. First it was just a lot of rustling and hissing from both sides as their disagreement turned into a brawl inside the box. But a moment later spells got flung. A fireball impacted on the wall beside her bed. A moment later lance of ice pierced the floor tile that was fast asleep. A loud, pained squeak from the floorboard angered Amelia, as her slumber continued to get interrupted. Her foot impacted the floor as she tossed her legs over the edge of the bed. Her burning gaze expressed her frustration quite well. Her eyes were like slits of peering fire in the dark. Like embers. She glared at Lance whose cheeks were puffed like a chipmunk’s. His eyes were wide, and his lips curled into a soft smile. He glanced at her, and then around the room, pretending to be oblivious, to be innocent.

“LANCE!?”

The cat averted his gaze, drumming his claws on the wooden floor.

“Meow?”

She sat in silence for a while.

“Where… did the gremlin go?”

A muffed plea could be heard, coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the cat. She slowly walked over and knelt down beside him. She could hear a very muffled, barely audible call for “HELP” and something poking at the cheeks of the cat, from inside. She placed her hand by his mouth, as he kept his head turned.

“Lance… spit it out.”

The cat glared at her, and then turned his head slowly. Opening his mouth with a ‘BLERG’ he stuck his tongue out, spitting the gremlin out like a furball.

“Meow… tasted like… fey…”

She watched the saliva-covered, shrunken in size gremlin stick his tongue out at the cat while wiping the saliva from its eyes.

“I thought cats likes to eat fey.”

“No, we like to eat fhey, big difference.”

She chuckled.

“Right, the new-born fey, I heard they’re quite delicious.”

“And nyatritious.” The cat proclaimed, slowly making his way to the box, into which he leapt graciously, and made sure to spread out, and take up the entire box of space. Emerging victorious and having defended his dwelling from a monstrous creature, or so is the tale he told his fellow felines.

The morning after she was awakened from her slumber by a knock. Her eyes shot open, she glared at the ceiling, atop of which sat the gremlin creature, and next to it, hanging onto the beam, was the cat.

“What the…. OH NO! I SLEPT THROUGH!” She gasped, leaping out of the bed with the grace of a cat, and landing with the agility of an elephant. The planks squealed sleepily under the impact of the sleepy witch that rushed to her sink. In haste she washed her face, and with the snap of a finger she changed her attire. Now draped in a far too stereotypical black robes, and a witch’s pointy hat, she spoke in a louder tone.

“COMING.” To inform her visitor that she had, in fact, heard his knock. After a brief moment she swung the door open. And the gust of cool wind from outside reminded her that she forgot to put shoes on. The cool morning breeze tickled her toes, and she let out a squeal.

“Ah!”

The man at her door gasped too.

“AAAAA!”

But his surprise was justified, as his gaze fell upon a black cat that hung off the ceiling like a bat. The cat spread his paws.

“I AM DARKNESS! YOUR WORST NIGHMAAAAAAA…” it screamed as if something peeled his claws from the beam, and he fell. Amelia ignored the happening and stepped aside.

“Jeffrey, come in, I’ve been waiting.”

He hesitantly walked past her, scanning her hut. It was almost an open-floor layout. The main area doubled as a dining room. A fireplace in the corner with a chair and a box beside it. A bed off in the far corner, and a kitchen. The walls of the wooden hut were decorated with herb racks and bookshelves, as well as a variety of living plant specimens sprawling from every nook and cranny of the hut. It was surprisingly welcoming and homely, just what you would expect of a witch’s hut, or, the opposite, if you expect a murder-hut. He took a seat by the table at the center of the common area and set his hat down on the table. Amelia tended to him with a warm herbal brew and a gentle, welcoming smile.

“Soo, Jeff, what brings you in today?”

He took the brew and smelled it. The pleasant minty aroma was mixed with a scent of roses. After a sip, he proceeded to explain.

“It’s about my son, Jake, he caught some illness in the woods. I found a tick, cross-backed, I fear he caught something serious through it…”

Amelia nodded slowly, then grabbed a tome off a shelf and flipped through it.

“Fever?” His jaw dropped as he watched his hat move on its own on the table.

“Uhhh…”

Amelia waited a few moments later.

“Does he have a fever?” She inquired again.

Jeff carefully reached for his hat, and then swiftly grabbed it and lifted it, there was nothing under it. He slowly turned it to peer inside – nothing. He took a slow and steady breath.

“Uhh… yeah uhm, quite high in fact. He was seemingly hallucinating too, mumbling deliriously about seeing fey creatures.” The cat jumped up on the table and seemingly began to play whack-a-mole with nothing. Jeff watched it with growing concern. Amelia flipped a few more pages.

“Cross-backed tick you said?”

He nodded. Confirming.

“Was it… iridescent?”

He glanced at her, at last pulling his gaze from the strangely behaving cat.

“It was quite rainbowy yes…” He confirmed.

Amelia glanced at her shoulder, from which a voice whispered in her ear. “Lad’ll be fine…. But you should suggest making a stew out of him, then lad’ll be ladled!”

She flung her wrist at an empty shoulder to Jeff, shooing something away.

“SHOO! Shhh! I’m busy!”

She hissed and then glanced at Jeff, noticing his obvious confusion, she smiled. The tome in her hands flipped several pages on his own, only further widening his eyes. His jaw dropped. She glanced down.

“No he has not been seduced by the harpies, stop it.”

Jeff blinked.

“Harpies?”

“Don’t worry about it…” She asked a few more questions to confirm that what bit his son was no ordinary tick, but a fey-beast. A creature created by the fey to infiltrate the material realm. Harmless, only giving the person who got poisoned, though the choice of words was hardly the best, as it obviously frightened Jeff, hearing that his son was poisoned. The poisoned person merely received a temporary ability to perceive the fey creatures in the area – “and occasionally they die as a side effect,” whispered the gremlin into her ear, and she repeated his words to the dot, without thinking. At that moment, Lance the black cat facepawed.

“Ughhhh! Amelia…” It spoke.

“WhaaaaaAAAT???”

Jeff’s voice trailed off as he pushed himself back in the chair, realizing once again that the cat spoke.

“Wait… die?”

Lance glanced at Meli with the most ‘really?’ look one could imagine a cat giving.

“Meli…”

She in turn glanced at the Gremlin on her shoulder.

“YOU LITTLE BASTARD!”

The gremlin disappeared with a chuckle. Amelia’s gaze returned to Jeff, her expression oblivious, a little surprised. “Mmhh? Ohh, don’t worry about what I just said… that was a uhh, a joke! Heh…” she forced a smile onto her face.

“Ahem… so, fae-magic does indeed function as poison for humans, but for most it passes in a day, and I’ll make a POISON.”

She gasped, and then cleared her throat. “POTION!!!”

She corrected herself, gazing at the gremlin that Jeff could not see, that sat on the kitchen counter, giggling.

“ghehe, gotchaaaa”

Lance glared at the creature.

“You little devil.” But it simply shrugged.

She made her way to the kitchen counter.

“Drink up…” she said with a hint of nervousness to her tone, but the man seemed hesitant to keep drinking her brew. Lance noticed the growing unease, made his way to the man’s lap and laid upon it, purring, to soothe the worried man.

At the kitchen she proceeded to cook something up. She pulled out a mortar and pestle, filled it up with various herbs and seeds, and grinded them into a paste, adding some powder, and chanting something under her breath. He slowly relaxed. She reached for a knife, and then picked up a bit of the paste, smearing it on a piece of bread. To his untrained eye she was making a sandwich. Well, to everyone’s eye she was just making a sandwich. As she finished, her gaze darted to the tittering gremlin once more. The cat smelled something and lifted his head.

“Meli” Lance called out to her, still purring on the man’s lap, receiving pats and scritches.

“Hmm? What’d the bastard do this time?”

The gremlin shrugged in the most comically overly exaggerated cat-like way and smirked.

“Me!? No no! Never.”

But Lance wasn’t easily tricked.

“He did something to the knife… the paste changed scent after you smeared it on.”

She lifted the sandwich to her nose, her eyes changed shape and color. Her pupils turned wolf-life. She sniffed it.

“Shadow-Frog neurotoxin… You poisoned the knife.”

She glanced at the gremlin that merely grinned.

“Aya… you caught me.”

Jeff stared at their exchange in shock.

“A…are you trying to kill me?”

She glanced at him.

“Oh no, not me, this bastard is.”

She pointed at the empty kitchen counter. He glanced at it and then back at the witch.

“HUH?”

She sighed.

“Right… you can’t see it.”

She tossed the sandwich over her shoulder, it disintegrated into dust momentarily, and then she proceeded to cook up another batch. When all was done, she cut the sandwich in half. She brought the plate with both halves to the table and sat it down in front of the man.

“This jam will neutralize the fey magic and make your son healthy.” She reached for 1 of the halved and took it, bringing it up to her mouth.

“And to show that I’ve no ill will.” She took a bite of the sandwich. Her piercing, stern gaze fixated on something that Jeff couldn’t see.

“Bye bye.” She whispered.

The gremlin gasped, and then screeched, jumping up on the counter and flailing its arms, realizing that she was dismissing it.

“NOOOHHH!! YOU BI…”

Its existence was no more. With the jam she made, she neutralized the fey magical bond the creature placed on her. It ceased to exist, and the metallic flower in the pot on the counter turned green and withered.

Jeff was reluctant, but after some convincing from the cat, he agreed to bring back the sandwich to his son. Accompanied by Lance back to the city. The cat once more proved the harmlessness of the jam prior to giving the sandwich to the ill boy, by licking a bit of it. The man’s trust was regained at last when his son awoke from his sickly slumber a few hours later, in good health.

And such was the encounter of Amelia with a gremlin. A strange creature she never desired to mess with again.

Audience prompts for this tale

• i want to see a cat victorious over the fight for the box

• a poisoned knife then!

• a gremlin being a gremlin ofc and causing chaos 🙂

• Coming out of my daze…… perhaps there can be an element of surprise with the amicable relation of the cat itself…