The massive house had a large group of Brauniin living within it. Those who stayed there, either as owners or guests, were always required to read the plaques that was by all entrances. "Do not act with greed or entitlement here. Be polite, and always thank the unseen for all that has been done for you. To do otherwise, is to invite misfortune." -- Anon Guest
Every place tells a story, if you know how to listen. It may be in the trails taken by every creature who made them. It may be in the wear of a particular seat, or the patina on a table. Or, in this case, the special features of a hostel house.
It's a peculiar house, to say the least of it. For a start, it's always clean and there's always something cooking at the hearth, but you can't find a soul who lives there.
To some, it appears as a little cottage. To others, a mansion in surprisingly good repair. To more than a few, it reveals its true self, an immense Ygdrassi tree shaped into a house of multiple apartments. And the reason why nobody sees who lives there is - it's full of Brauniin.
Though... 'full' is a relative term.
Brauniin, like Nisse, can exist in the hidden places, the overlooked spaces and little corners that cannot be used. They can slip between moments and hop in and out of Nanogh like a child jumping in and out of a paddling pool. Like the Nisse, they don't like to be seen, and they do little things here and there.
Beneficial things for people in need. Help for those who try but run out of ability or capacity. Rewards for those who appreciate them.
Some people do not know this, so the house has a little plaque that lets itself be read by any intelligent creature. No matter what language they understand, they can understand that sign. Even if they can't read.
It says, Come in peace, stay in comfort, leave a gratitude. We will see to your needs.
When you are lost and alone in the middle of nowhere, the house will appear. It will be warm and welcoming and, to many, a godsend. When you are weak and weary and miles from anywhere, it comes to you.
But even the Faekindred can make mistakes.
Sometimes, those who expect more than they get manage to find the fae hostel. Sometimes, they follow others in. Other times, they just manage to find it on their own. Regardless, they get there and insist on being the most important person who ever existed.
It doesn't matter what their name was. They don't have it any more. Call them... Zog.
They barged in after a weak and weary Hellkin, who had been whisked away to a magical bathing chamber to see to their hurts and filth alike. Zog held their head high as they marched around the vestibule. Holding their purse so that the coins inside it jingled and jangled.
Of course, Zog found nobody. That did not stop them. The fact that the door to the outside world had vanished did not give them pause. Neither did the proliferation of Sprites lighting the area, nor the tincture of twilight in the atmosphere. All of the above should have given any rational mind a clear warning.
They looked for a concierge's desk, finding nothing. They looked for a guest book, and found nothing. They did find a round stone and a table, and rapidly pounded the former against the later, screaming, "I demand to speak to the manager!"
The Brauniin did not show themselves to someone that rude. What did happen was a new sign, much like the one by the entry door.
Do not act with greed or entitlement here. Be polite, and always be thankful for all that has been done for you. Failure will result in punishment.
Zog ignored yet another clear warning. "I saw you invite that filthy teuf inside and I'm worth more than that thing! I demand you give me everything that beast got for free!"
The voice in their head said, AS YOU WISH.
Zog got beaten for free. They got chained for free. They got starved, abused, used, and set working for free. They got a bed of dirty straw and cold stone. Stale bread if they were lucky and foul water to drink. And, as mentioned previously, they had their name taken from them.
Free of charge.
And further, when the Faekindred grew tired of Zog's whining, they also took their tongue.
They're still in that house, doing all the things that they once considered beneath them. And they will remain there until they learn how to be grateful for even the smallest mercies they receive.
They've been there for millennia already. They may be there for millennia yet.
[Photo by Jan Kopřiva on Unsplash]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends! Or visit my hub site to see what else I'm up to.
Send me a prompt [10 remaining prompts!]
