“Would you be Mr. Roderich Pen?” a faun asked, pulling his glasses away from his pointed nose. Large ram horns on his head curled around his upright goat ears. His hoofs tapped loudly on the wooden floor as he crossed the room. When the faun received no response, he checked the folder he carried before adding, “Son of Jeremiah Pen and Harmony Spirit, Gnome of the East Woods?”

Roderich clutched his plastic container of macaroni and cheese close to his chest, staring at the faun in the center of his living room. He opened his mouth and shut it again. There was a faun in the middle of his living room. Roderich adjusted his glasses on his face and contemplated taking his pulse.

“Yes, I am a faun,” the creature sighed as if reading Roderich’s mind. The faun put his folder under his arm and straightened the thick, plush scarf that rested around his neck. “And yes this is real, you’re neither hallucinating nor dreaming, your glasses are working perfectly fine, and we’re both very busy people. That in mind, would you please answer the question? I have six clients to visit after this, so it would be quite helpful if you told me whether you are or aren’t Mr. Roderich Pen.”

“I am Roderich Pen, and my father is Jeremiah Pen.” Roderich licked his lips. He turned the plastic container in his hands, and scrunched his nose. “My mother’s name was Harmony, but she was hardly a gnome.”

“As far as you knew,” the faun said, clicking his teeth together. He helped himself to a seat in Roderich’s arm chair and spread his papers out on the coffee table. “But it’s good to know I’m in the right place. Do take a seat, Mr. Pen, and we’ll get this sorted as quickly as possible.”

Roderich took a seat on his couch with his cold macaroni and cheese in his lap. Clearing his throat, he asked as politely as possible, “What would this be about?”

“Your inheritance,” the faun said. He pulled his glasses off his face and stuffed them in the pocket sewn into the scarf end. He reached a hand over to shake and Roderich took it. “Ah, and do forgive me. I should introduce myself. I am Mr. Young Drowning, Faun of the East Woods. I was the representative of your mother’s estate and belongings.”

“So you’re a lawyer?” Roderich asked, shaking the hand up and down.

“Something like that, yes,” Drowning said, letting go. The faun rested his hands on his lap and tilted his head down. “I regret to inform you that your mother passed away earlier this month. I would have been here sooner, but it’s been busy. As a mortal human, you were sadly a bit down on my list of priorities.”

“Not to contradict you,” Roderich said slowly as the faun pulled page after page of papers out of his folder. Roderich squeezed the container in his hand and leaned forward. “But my mother passed away when I was six.”

“A common lie,” the Drowning said, waving his hand back and forth as if to brush the statement out of the air itself. He tapped his hoof on the floor, acting casual as his clawed fingers continued to sort papers. “Often when fae tire of their human disguises, they’ll fake their deaths and return home. In most cases, they sort out all of their inheritances and such so that any mortal relatives they may have sewn won’t have to deal with things like this, but your mother was a bit scatter brained and forgot to name a fae inheritor for a few of her items. But ah, such is life.”

“And that means?” Roderich asked.

“As her sole living relative, you’ve inherited anything that has not yet been accounted for and distributed to another fae,” Drowning said. “It’s all rather simple.”

Roderich set his macaroni and cheese on the table and set his hands on his knees. “My mother was a gnome?”

“Yes,” the faun said.

“And that makes me half gnome?”

“It’s more common than you’d think,” Drowning said, smiling coyly. “Mortals are such fun at times! It’s hard not to play with them a bit.”

“What exactly did I inherit?” Roderich asked, his voice hitching.

“Straight to business, good, good,” Drowning said. He turned a paper around, pushing it toward the other side of the table and Roderich picked it up. Drowning pulled a small bag out of the other pocket from his multicolored scarf and opened it. He placed each object from the list Roderich held on the table. “Your mother neglected to account for: One Lucky Opal (good thing to keep in your pocket, that), Six Magic Rubies from the Ninth River (those are worth quite the pretty penny), Ten Mini Roots (I recommend planting those; good luck in the winter), and last but not least, the soul of one Henry Hobbs.”

“What was that last one?” Roderich asked, staring at the small stack of goods that was on his table. The top most was a small document that looked like a contract of some sort. The paper was yellowed, and there were two signatures on the bottom, the lower of which looked to read “Henry Hobbs.” Roderich picked it up and turned it over looking for some sort of joke or disclaimer. “A soul?”

“Yes.” The faun shrugged. “Of all the things she forgot to account for, I’m surprised that one slipped by. Souls are a high priced item in our world. You don’t often lose track of them, but things are as they are, and now it’s yours.”

“A soul?”

“Yes, yes, a soul,” the Faun said, rolling his eyes. “Now, if you’d sign here on this line, these items will belong to you and I can wish you a good day.”

“Do I have to?” Roderich asked, shifting in his seat. Gnomes and fauns. Captured souls? What was all this nonsense? It was six o’clock on a work night. “What happens if I don’t?”

Drowning looked at him and sighed. “Look, Mr. Pen, it’s my job to deliver these items to you. They are yours. That signature merely states that I did my duty and delivered them to you. What you do when them afterwards is up to you. For all I care you could toss them in the garbage.

“So please, sign,” Drowning said, shoving the paper closer. He stressed each syllable as he spoke, almost pained that Roderich refused to cooperate. “I can’t leave until you sign this. While your house is quite pleasant, again, I have six more clients to see today.”

Roderich pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and looked over the page again. He read the text closely, even under the irritated gaze of the faun, and found nothing out of the ordinary. It was a transfer of ownership, very simply written and he couldn’t see a trace of fine print. Wanting the faun to leave, and get his life back to normal as soon as possible, Roderich signed the bottom.

“Wonderful!” Drowning exclaimed, pulling the paper back. He stuck it in his folder and shoved the lot of it under his arm. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Pen. I do hope you have a good evening.”

Drowning shook Roderich’s hand another time, before tipping his head in goodbye. Roderich watched as he tucked his folder under his arm and headed for the front door. He tapped the door three times in a triangle shape, before drawing a circle in the center. A glow came from behind the door, and when he opened it, instead of the dimly lit dull street outside of Roderich’s house, it opened to a lush forrest full of bushes and floating lightning bugs.

“Until next time, Mr. Pen,” Drowning said. He stepped through the door and shut it with a solid click.

Roderich waited for five seconds before opening his front door again, and listened to the sound of the crickets that had made a home in his front lawn bushes. The busy asphalt street a few paces down his front walk greeted him and he sucked in a breath as a car sped by. Roderich closed the door and rubbed his forehead. If the mass of stones and roots that he had been given weren’t still sitting on his desk, he could have sworn it was all a dream.

“He’s a bit of a stuffy one, isn’t he?” A voice asked next to Roderich’s left ear.

Roderich rightly screamed.