Wraithvine is a very patient being. That patience has been learned over many, many, centuries. But when ze is truly angry, watch out. This brat was NOT listening, kept trying to kick Lilbit, grabbing Bribird and bad-mouthing Gikka. A good chastisement was in order, and a stern lesson to parents who was letting the child become so spoiled. -- Anon Guest
Heaven help the people who think they can get away with anything short of murder. It might have to, in this case. Mostly because a singular brat had tried to kick Lilbit and shove Bibrid or smack Gikka for the fifth time.
Once is an accident. Twice is a co-incidence. Thrice is a pattern.
For the fourth attempt, Wraithvine stepped smoothly between the child and their target. "Where are your parents, little one?"
"I don't gotta tell you crap, knife-ear! Lemme have fun or I'm tellin' on you! You're gonna get hanged and chopped up and sold by the ounce."
At least one parent appeared from out of the crowds at the inn. Her clothing said wealthy and powerful in large, easily read letters. It did not say nobility. Nobles had far better taste. Nobles attracted respect. This woman demanded it and then threw around her weight when she didn't get it. "How dare you assault my baby! I'll summon the watch on you!"
Wraithvine drew hirself up, letting her see the Wizarding hat and pointed ears if she cared to look past the end of her own concerns. "Madam, your 'baby' is less than five years away from official adulthood. Keep them away from my pet and my friends. Teach them how to behave..."
"And who are you to tell me how to parent my child? I've never seen such arrogance!"
Have you looked in a mirror? thought Wraithvine. "Contain your child, or bad things will happen to them."
"Threats! Roo-PERT! Rupert! Summon the guards! This wandering vagabond is threatening us!"
The child squirmed free of their mother and wound up to kick Lilbit again.
Wraithvine made an almost absent gesture, and the mother and her brat apparently vanished. An angry man with the same absence of taste stormed over. This must be the 'Rupert' that the woman mentioned.
"What have you done with my wife and heir? Return them to me at once or I'll have you sold by the carobweight!"
"As you wish," said Wraithvine, and made the same gesture.
Melangela clung tight to Oldravianus, screaming for the guards because that was how things were handled. Her cries barely carried over the constant thunder all around them. Oldravianus clung back, whimpering and crying because that made his mother angry, and that made the bad people die.
Nothing of the sort was extracting them from this featureless plain full of thunder. One giant booming tossed them off their feet, and manifested an enormous cliff right beside them.
"Mama, I don't like it!"
Then the cliff vanished, and Rupert was there. Looking terrified and furious. He ran to embrace them. "Where are we?"
Another thunder and the very horizon changed. Some strange alteration in the way light worked. The very floor began to alter. A strange white, featureless expanse moved slowly towards them.
In fear and terror they ran, until they hit the light-altering border. It became clear, there.
"This..." Rupert traced a gigantic curve. "This is a glass from the tavern... but big enough for the largest Giant ever known..."
There were gigantic fingers, far above their heads, on the outside of the glass. The gigantic whiteness was nothing more than a sheet of paper. They were trapped and lifted up like a spider. Carried to somewhere they could not currently comprehend.
That Elf appeared before them. An illusion, and almost twice their current size. "My, my, my," they said. "The more they puff themselves up, the smaller they are in reality."
"What did you do to us?" demanded Rupert.
"I've shrunk you down to match your empathy for others. I knew you'd be minute, but... nearly microscopic? I underestimated the scope of your ignorance."
"Turn us back at once," Rupert demanded.
"And be sold by the carobweight? I think not. The three of you are going to learn that there's more to living in this world than throwing your power around and expecting a reward. Of course, you can't live in the world like this, so I'll furnish you... a habitat."
It was a terrarium. It had a tiny miniature house for a shelter, and small plants they could farm in the moist soil. If they chose to work for it.
"What about my business ventures? What about my fiscal empire?"
"I doubt anyone in your employ will much care that you're missing," said the illusion of the Elf. "And by the way... none of you are ageing until you all learn your lessons. I will keep you safe... for as long as it takes."
"Who are you?" said Melangela.
"My name is Wraithvine," said the illusion, "and apologising now is far too late."
[Photo by Maud Bocquillod on Unsplash]
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