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The Warning and Message shuddered.

The Point – as they had dubbed the hopeful cure – flashed brilliantly again.

Red.

They remembered red.  When it hadn’t been connected to magic.  When they could see all the colors of the rainbow.

Shades of green.  That had been their world for hundreds of years.

And now.  Red.  Two flashes of red.  Brilliant, bloody, glittering, tantalizing, hopeful red.

With a ripple of motion, the Warning and Message lifted hundreds of legs, crawling forward.

The mountain swayed where their heart should be.  Each tilt brought fresh agony.

They shuddered at another stony clunk and a dull burst of pain.

One of their centipede legs erupted into boulders, damaging three limbs close to it, smacking the ground like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

What a funny image to cross their mind!  It tasted like a memory – sweet and sour like thunderstorms in a polluted land.

They stretched out invisible feelers.  Encompassed as much of the land around them as possible.

The Point had Others around it.  And they were aware.

The Warning and Message considered.  A long, slow moment of no movement.

It doesn’t matter. They concluded.  If I don’t get a cure soon… this curse will spread. 

What’s one kingdom when the world is at stake?

~#~#~

Tayl slowly lit his pipe, brown eyes glinted gold in the firelight.  The corn weaved in the wind.

“Ah mine bush-boy.  If you listen, you can hear the weirds of the world.”

He blinked.

Night had fallen since the second tolling of The Bell – another Chosen in the Castle Oaken Door. This one arrived without witnesses.

(good)

“Papa?!” a little girl with frizzy black hair and sword-sharp eyes pulled his arm.

Tayl smiled. “Hup!” He hauled her onto his hip.

They surveyed the crops.  The village,  The castle.

Castle Oaken Door.

The Bronze Lions were restless – blink and they were seated on haunches – blink and they were stretching – blink and they were poised to jump.

blink. blink. blink.

Tayl smirked at his adopted daughter.  “Well The Castle suuuure is liven’ up again, ain’t it Clem.”

Clementine pulled the pipe out of his mouth and frowned.  “Only you and I can see that.”

He sighed.

Old Red-Tooth-Strike-Claw – the greatest of the Bronze Lions – was fully mobile now.  He shook off his great crown and roared into the night.

“Should we evacuate?” Clementine rested her tiny head against his shoulder.  “We could be in the Refuge by tomorrow.”

Red-Tooth-Strike-Claw appeared beside them.  He shook his broad main, thousands of bronze hairs ringing – each moment the sound was less and less earthly.

“They don’t know.” Tayl whispered.  “They cannee see nor feel.”

Clementine nodded.

“Wise man.” he shook his head, shaggy brown curls frisking and tangling.  “Tt.  Only observant.”

“Seer.” Clementine whispered.

“Not of the future.  Just …” Tayl went to put the pipe in his mouth and it was squirreled away again.  “Clem.”

She fixed her diamond eyes on him again.  The pipe held out almost over Red-Tooth-Strike-Claw.

The lion huffed and smiled, eyes delighted crescent moons.

“Well.  Guess it’s time ta hit the hay.”  He wiped a sweaty trickle from his eyes, bouncing Clementine to his other hip.  “Ya gotta get up early tomorrow for yer first day of school.”

Clementine made a face.  She tucked her head back in his shoulder, clinging to his sweat-drenched shirt.

~#~#~

@this-is-not-an-alien , hope you don’t mind me world-building your village a little.  Gotta direction I want to take this since my ActualCharacterTM isn’t going to officially arrive until the castle’s filled.

I know it’s early in the game, but I haven’ seen anybody really play with the very serviceable exterior of the Castle Oaken Door yet and thought, “well, two threads of tension are better than one!”