Town Spectacle

Compared to the last time that Stan had been in Wissler, the place was astoundingly different. He had expected Kreev to more or less stay where he had been when Stan had first found him. Alone, in the shaman hut, in the dark.

He did not expect a town spectacle. But Stan and Mira walked into town to a large gathering of villagers around the town podium, with small, lanky Kreev as the center of attention.

"Friends, comrades, I am pleading with you," Kreev was shouting to the villagers, "Who among us shall be my apprentice?"

There was much clamoring from the crowd. The crowd moved sort of like a mob, with a little pushing and shoving and even some angry shouts. Suddenly, a boy was pushed forward from the crowd into the area of empty space around the podium.

"Gret will be good." A man, presumably the boy's father, called out to Kreev. Kreev seemed to be fully invested in his showmanship.

He stepped from the podium to examine the boy like a horse trader examines flesh. He circled him, eyeing him appraisingly, even going so far as to hold a hand up as if to measure his height. He did not -- thankfully, Stan thought -- put hands on the boy. The sight was not silent however, and Kreev made many hims and haws as he circled the boy, finally stepping back to nod grudgingly.

"Gret may fill the part nicely. Gret, I need you to answer me three questions."

The boy nodded uncertainly. In a strange, clipped accent, Kreev asked the boy,

"What is your name?" He emphasized the first word with a flourish. The boy stared at him blankly, clearly confused.

Kreev murmured something quietly to the boy when he did not answer, and then repeated his question with equal vigor.

"What is your name?" He was practically shouting, though not in anger. To the boy's credit, the villagers looked equally perplexed by Kreev's line of questioning.

"Gret." The boy said, still somewhat uncertain of his answer. Kreev beamed his approval.

"And," Kreev inhaled theatrically, "What… is your quest?"

The boy was cluleless. Stan didn't blame him -- how was a boy, of no more than thirteen, perhaps? Expected to answer a question about a quest that he didn't have in front of his entire village? Stan was nearly as confused as the villagers were, and he at least had access to the same nutty books that Kreev had apparently been reading.

Seeing the boy flounder, Kreev murmured silently to him again, but the boy didn't seem to understand.

"What?" The boy said too loud. Despite his best intentions, Kreev blushed his annoyance and repeated himself, stage whispering, to the boy.

"To become the best shaman in the world!" Kreev hissed at him. "Obviously."

"Oh, yeah!" The boy's face brightened. "Try again!"

"What," Kreev launched back into his weird lilting accent, "is your quest?"

"To become the best shaman in the world!" The boy shouted at him enthusiastically. "Obviously." He finished with a dismissive tone and eye roll.

"Good, good." Kreev rubbed his hands together in anticipation."Now, the final question."

"What," He said with a flourish, "Is your favorite color?" He asked. He even wiggled his eyebrows at the boy. The crowd was too confused by the theatrics to even murmur amongst themselves. They looked like a gang of hypnotized sheep.

"Blue!" The boy shouted, then frowned almost immediately. "No! Yellow!" He corrected himself. He tried to look as proud as he could over his answer. Kreev shrugged and slapped the boy on the back.

"Are there any other contenders, or shall Gret here be my new apprentice?"

The villagers had another clamorous discussion, but no new children emerged. Kreev waited for the noise to calm down, and then shrugged.

"So be it. Gret will be my new apprentice, and with that, inherit the keys to the kingdom upon my death. Gret, welcome!"

Kreev awkwardly embraced the boy, and while looking at the crowd, finally spotted Stan and Mira in the corner.

"Disperse, fellow villagers, and go about your days!" Kreev ordered in that awkward voice of his. With nothing left to do, disperse they did. Kreev trailed behind the crowd until he reached Stan and Mira.

"Stan." He said, acknowledging the man as he walked by them. "Whoever you are," He nodded politely to Mira and beckoned to them. "Follow me, we'll head back to the shaman's hut."

Mira --Tulith -- shot Stan a glare as they moved behind him. Stan shrugged. He could tell what the problem was. Kreev seemed really annoying now that he was out of his shell more. Also, he had quite literally left Gret standing in front of the podium with no one. He watched Kreev go and then decided -- probably -- to return to his home instead of follow the weird man to his shaman hut.

"What was that all about?" Stan asked Kreev as he settled into an armchair in the hut. It was, like the village, a completely different place. Well lit and warm, the bookshelves were well organized and dusted. Stan noticed belatedly that Kreev was even dressed up for his earlier affair.

"I realized after flipping through a few of these books that being a shaman is ninety five percent showmanship and about five percent actual knowledge." Kreev admitted, taking a seat in a chair facing Stan and Mira. "So I decided to go over the top. I did it yesterday with some scrying, and then decided I needed an apprentice. So I called the village to order and just had some fun with it."

"I see." Stan said. "And your… three questions?"

"Oh, there's this weird little book I found on the shelves. It's called Mawntee Piedawn? It's about a quest for some sacred relic. In any case, there were lots of… theatrics in there, and I decided to borrow some to make it more interesting."

"I see." Stan said. "Well, you've certainly changed in three days." He gave the hut a good look. "It seems like you may not need me after all."

"Oh, but Stan…" Stan saw a hint of the scared child from a few days ago, "I still have no idea what I'm doing. I definitely need your help."

"Are there any missing people from Wissler right now?" Mira's voice change the conversation fluidly. Tulith had… moved back into Mira's body so that she could speak fluidly. Stan felt the odd disconnect between what he knew and what he wanted to be real. His heart ached.

"I don't think so. I mean, other than Horatio…" Kreev trailed off, "Who was the shaman before me. Who are you, anyway?" He asked. Stan laughed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners? This is Mira, my wife. Mira, this is Kreev, the new shaman of Wissler."

They nodded their greetings to each other, and then Kreev continued. "If anyone is missing, they certainly haven't told me about it. Granted, I just started going out there," Kreev gestured to the wooden door that was separating them from civilization, "The day before last. But usually there's quite an uproar when someone wanders off."

"Okay, well, that's good. Will you let us know if someone does disappear?" Stan asked, and Kreev nodded.

"We have two missing children from Dyssa." Mira re-inserted herself into the conversation. Stan realized that he had just… taken the conversation from her. He felt a bit of shame sneak into his conscious mind. When I think she's a woman, I'm a huge dick. He thought. He pushed it aside, promising to be better.

"Oh, no." Kreev's face paled. "That sucks. I'm so sorry."

"If you see them, please bring them back to Dyssa, kicking and screaming if you have to." Mira said nonchalantly, trying to put the young man at ease. "We think they ran away together."

"Oh, young love." Kreev said, though truth be told, he was not much older than the runaways. "And with a dragon afoot!" He waggled his eyebrows, but his eyes seemed to rest on Mira a little too long for comfort.

"Watch your words wisely, little fiend." Mira was suddenly not Mira, her voice a deep, knowing growl.

Kreev looked taken aback. "I don't know what you mean." He proclaimed innocently, but wiggled uncomfortably in his chair.

"I see you." She said, her voice relaxing somewhat. In a perfectly calm and sane sounding voice, she continued. "And I will eat you for dinner if your smart ass comments proceed. Know your place, scum of the earth."

There was a tense silence as Kreev and Mira stared daggers at each other.

"Can… anyone fill me in?" Stan asked the silence. His voice's echo deadened in the room long before they spoke.

"This … Kreev … is not what you think he is." Mira said finally.

"And your wife is not who you think she is." Kreev offered up.

"Okay… I know about Mira." Stan said, "So why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself, Kreev?"

Stan fingered the blade at his side, though he had a feeling that it would do no good, if Tulith's hackles were up.

"That slime ball is a horny horse in disguise." Mira -- Tulith -- muttered. "And he lives by feasting off of virgins."

"Oh now, that's simply unfair and untrue!" Kreev protested. He didn't dare stand, but his eyes darted nervously around.

"I will crush you." Mira said, "And eat you for a snack."

"Can't we maybe… calm down, just a little?" Stan asked. He rose from the chair and stood between the two. "Can't we just talk this out?"

"His kind are nothing more than useless rodents!" Tulith shouted. She rose from the chair and … bared her fangs at him, for lack of a better word. Her body began to shimmer in a weird, unearthly way.

"Calm down…" Stan urged, looking at Kreev, who was faring no better. The boy's eyes were near bulging out of his head. Mira growled. Kreev growled. Stan had had enough.

"Calm down! Just calm down!" He shouted in a rhythmic fashion. He waved his hands between them. "There is no need for violence."

"Listen to the human, Kreev," Mira hissed. "Calm down. Just calm down."

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but horrendous clusters of sharp teeth filled the space where his tongue had been. Stan took a step back in horror.

"What the fuck?" Stan shouted. "Fix that!" He pointed at Kreev's mouth. The boy blushed and shut his mouth.

They passed a moment in silence. Stan could tell that Kreev was trying to compose himself. And perhaps shove those rows -- circles -- of teeth back where they belonged.

"I've had it up to here," Stan raised his hand to his throat, "With creatures masquerading as humans. So, out with it, Kreev. What the fuck are you, and are you planning to feast on any virgins in the near future?"

Kreev turned red with embarrassment. Stan hoped, anyway, that it was embarrassment, and not something more nefarious.

"Kreev," Stan chided the boy, not quite believing that he had to finish the sentence as he was about to, "Have you already feasted upon the flesh of virgins?"

Kreev shook his head an emphatic no. Stan relaxed a little and followed up with a new question, "Okay, and were you about to feast upon the flesh of virgins?"

Kreev was slower to shake his head, as if he had to think about it. Stan grew angry. "Were you going to do something to that Gret boy that you chose as an apprentice?"

Kreev's face flashed red again, and his eyes began to bulge out of his head. They were beastly, inhuman eyes, growing to the size of small apples in his undersized eye sockets.

"Kreev, if you want to live, here, in this village," Stan held out his hand to Mira -- Tulith -- as she was rising from her seat, presumably to strangle the boy monster. "If you want to live here, you cannot attack the people who live here. Or the people who live in this region. We will hunt you down. If you can't handle that, I suggest you go to a different region. Perhaps Renya would be better for you."

Kreev barked a sharp laugh. "Virgins are rare in Renya." His voice was deep and throaty. Whatever Stan was speaking to, it did not match the body that it wore.

"Well, we don't want you here if you're going to kill people." Stan pointed out. Mira nodded in agreement, but stayed in her seat.

"What if I… don't kill people?" The gravely voice raised at the end, almost too innocently. Stan looked at Tulith for clarification. She shrugged.

"It is… better than nothing." She admitted.

"Will they know that you're hurting them?" Stan asked the boy, since Mira seemed more set on the whole not-killing thing than the no-pain thing.

He shrugged. "I doubt it. They go to sleep. Wake up later."

Stan thought of Mira -- the real Mira -- who had died after his father had "just made her sleep" with all intentions of her waking up later. And now, something else inhabited her body entirely, using her flesh like a puppet. A puppet that he loved with all of his weird little heart.

"I don't know…" He trailed off. His stomach was queasy at the thought of poor Gret being preyed upon in his sleep. "How often do you feed?" He asked, stalling for time so he could make a decision. It would be a big deal if they killed Kreev. Wissler would be on its third shaman in a month, and Stan had a feeling that no one would want the job. He certainly wouldn't, if he knew what had happened to the other two.

"I can go a while, weeks even." Kreev offered. The boy looked at Stan, then Mira, then back at Stan. "I have to eat." He protested their glares. "I can try to eat less, but I deserve the right to survive just like anyone else in this damn plane of existence."

"Ok." Stan sighed. "Eat less for now, and for fuck's sake, try to find someone that deserves it. Do you have to feed from virgins?"

"It's the difference between steak and pig cartilage." Kreev said, a look of horror crossing his face.

"Can you eat ass holes for a while? Not literal ass holes. Like, jerks. Mean people. I'm sure you have a few of those in town."

Kreev shrugged. "I'll try."

"Better than try." Mira spoke up, her voice deadly calm and serious.

"I will." Kreev sounded much more confident in his response this time.

"Okay. And if you see our missing children, Rufus and Freya…" Stan trailed off.

"I will bring them to Dyssa for you."

"Without eating them."

"They're not virgins, are they?" Kreev asked and Stan shook his head no, laughing.

"Have you always been… whatever you are?" Stan asked suddenly, and then corrected himself. "What I mean, is, have you always been Kreev? How long have you been here, in Wissler?"

"You've only ever known me, never Kreev." The boy said after a long moment.

"Do I want to know what happened to Kreev?" Stan muttered, almost under his breath. Kreev looked like he was about to answer when Stan shook his head. "No. Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

Previous Chapter: Deception Come To Light
Next Chapter: Save The Children
Go Home: Go To Title Page