“The sewer’s stench filled the room, wafting under the door like smoke. After taking care of the bandits, Lars kicked open the door. His elvish ears listened for any sign of danger. Holding his breath, he gestured to the others to follow him into the tunnels.”

Arienne plugged her nose, shaking her head. Her long brown hair whipped around her. “Ew, why did he do that?”

I laughed. “It was the only way out. Lars was careless and destroyed the entrance, remember?”

“Nope!”

“But I told you that story last night. Did you fall asleep without telling me again?”

Giggling, Arienne held two entwined fingers behind her. “No.”

“Good, because otherwise, your father would look like a fool telling stories to himself.”

“Daddy?” asked Arienne, her eyes turned towards the ground.

“Yes, my little dandelion?”

“I think I did fall asleep.”

Leaning back into the pile of leaves we were sitting against, I stared into the blue sky and laughed. “I know.”

Arienne grabbed my arm, shaking it wildly. “Finish the story! Finish the story!”

“Alright, alright.” I squinted my eyes, imagining the clouds transforming into humanoid figures. The more abstract clouds became rivers of filth running through the stone sewers.

“Lars knew that the longer they stayed in the sewers, the worse they would smell. So, he picked a direction and headed into the unknown. Now, Lars could see in the dark—to be the greatest warrior who ever lived, you had to—but his companions… couldn’t. Thankfully, Lars could create light using his energy blasts. Each time they turned a corner, he would throw bolts of light down each path.

“But Lars, like usual, was careless. They weren’t the only creatures running through those sewers. Far from it. One of his energy blasts hit a giant slime monster!”

“What’s slime?”

Scratching my chin, I tried to find something to compare it to. “You remember what Ol’ Bessy was hucking up last week? From her nose?”

Arienne shuddered. “Ew, it’s a snot monster?”

“Sort of. Less gooey and slicker. You see, Lars hadn’t expected to find such a creature under the city, but he wasn’t one to run from a fight. So he sized the creature up and yelled, ‘You face Lars Handler, the greatest warrior to ever live! Flee or perish.’” I puffed out my chest and exaggerated my voice to play the part of the brave adventurer.

“I bet that nasty slime monster ran away, huh?” Arienne asked innocently.

“No, my dear. Slime monsters don’t think like you and me. They don’t fear, they act. That slime slid down the sewer toward them. It moved like your mother’s gravy sliding off your spoon. Going faster and faster, it ran right over Lars, swallowing him and his companion whole.” I twiddled my fingers down my arm, mimicking the slime. When I reached my palm, I pretended to grab the imaginary adventurers.

Arienne gasped. Before I could continue my story, I heard a soft voice calling from the house. “Norman, Arienne! Come in for breakfast!”

I stood up from the pile of leaves, brushing myself off as I did. Arienne was less willing to get up. She grasped my leg and tried to pull me down. “No, Poppy. I want to hear what happens next.”

“You will, after breakfast.” I tried to scoop her into my arms, but she rolled out of the way.

“You’ll have to catch me, you nasty snot creature!” she yelled, running past the barn into the cow fields.

Dirt and the crumpled remains of leaves flew through the air behind my six-year-old. Jumping over piles of dung, I almost tripped over myself running after her. It wasn’t the first time I had to chase after my little dandelion, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last.

My name is Norman Benson. I grew up working on my family’s farm with my Pop and my brother Henry. When I became an adult, I decided to settle down and start a family. It wasn’t my first choice, I wanted to be a famous bard—a magician who specializes in musical magic. But that wasn’t meant to be. Pop needed me on the farm. Once I chose to stay in Xalir, I gave up on becoming any kind of musician—mostly.

To start a family, I needed to find someone to start it with. In the small town of Xalir, there weren’t many that drew my eye, but there was one: Beth Asheia. We had grown up together, so I knew she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. As for her, it wasn’t my dashing good looks or my wit and charm that made her fall deeply in love with me. No, it was my mastery of the mandolin and my skill as a raconteur—I think. To be honest, I don’t know why she stuck around.

We had two kids, Arienne and Charlie. Arienne is like the wind, constantly moving and prone to bursts of anger. Charlie is much less of a handful. All you have to do to appease him is give him something to drink, and something to eat. Hopefully, it stays that way as he gets older, he’s only four after all.

I ducked under the swinging tail of my prize bovine and grabbed the back of Arienne’s shirt. Surprised by the sudden lack of momentum, she went limp, making me pull even harder to keep from falling over. Before she got the chance to cause any more mayhem, I scooped her up onto my shoulder. She laughed, hitting her tiny limbs against my back and chest. Even though it came from a young girl, it was painful.

“No! Snot monster!” She laughed as I groaned and shook my shoulders, causing her to grab my forehead to stay on.

“I’m going to eat you, little girl,” I said in a deep voice. She feigned dismay and kicked her feet against my chest.

Carrying my daughter like that, I walked back to the house. For the meager amount of money the farm brought in, it was big—two stories with an attic, a sizeable kitchen, and three bedrooms. The only downside was one loose window that creaked in the wind. Built back when my Pop was a child, it served its purpose even after all these years.

I set her down on the front doorstep, getting down onto one knee to ensure she stood still. My dog, Scraps, watched me curiously as I held Arienne in place. Scraps had shaggy-looking gray hair that always got sticks and leaves stuck in it. I had found her on the side of the road when she was a pup. Some low-life had tossed her out because she was the runt of the litter. Beth and I kept her around to scare away intruders, but Scraps would rather watch the birds pick at worms than bark.

“Arienne,” I said, taking a stern tone of voice. “I know we were having fun, but you need to be careful running around the cows like that, you could get hurt.”

“The cows love it, Poppy! They like watching me run around them,” she said, wiggling on the stone step. Scraps laid down next to her, laying her head on Arienne’s lap.

I sighed. “Who are you going to listen to, the cows? Or your Poppy?”

She thought about that for some time, seemingly weighing the options in her head. I glanced at Scraps whose tail beat against the ground.

“The cows!”

I shook my head and stood up. Scraps bounced up and ran to my side, wagging her tail rapidly. Arienne laughed as Scraps’ tail beat against her face. Rather than telling Scraps to move, I decided to let her continue to attack my daughter. Consider it tough parenting.

Each of us looked up as the door opened. A mess of curly brown hair poked through the opening, tired amber eyes looking downward. I followed her eyes to my filthy dog and even more dirty daughter. My clothes weren’t much better, with globs of dung stuck to my clothes.

“Mommy!” said Arienne, reaching up with dirt-encrusted fingers.

Beth gave me a tired look before closing the door. “You two better wash off before breakfast, I don’t want any of that tracked through the house.”

I looked down at my daughter and smiled. “I guess your mother isn’t a fan of snot monsters? Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

The two of us walked to the side of the house. I grabbed Arienne’s shoulder playfully and moved her against the wall. “Hold your arms out for me.”

With two fingers I traced a circle in the air in front of me. Then I drew a five-line musical staff into the circle. It was rough, the lines looking more wavy than straight, but it would do. With that done, I hummed a quick three-note tune: F#, E, and D. The notes appeared on the staff as soon as I hummed them. The magical circle glowed bright orange as it floated in the air. I reached my hand through it, the circle enveloping it like a glove.

The magic acted like soap and water, allowing me to scrub all the dirt off my daughter and dog. The specific string of notes I had hummed made them smell like fresh oranges. Once the two were clean I quickly wiped myself down. Even through the orange scent, I could still smell some dung.

I was lucky to learn such magic from my teacher, Master Piopus. He was the greatest bard in the world. Before I decided to start a family, I had planned to surpass him, but that was never meant to be. Even so, I still practiced magic and music from time to time. Part of me still hoped to leave Xalir and travel the world. Become the famous bard I was always supposed to be.

I sighed, grabbing Arienne by her shoulders and leading her back to the house. Beth needed my help to raise the kids. Pop needed my help around the farm. Leaving Xalir wasn’t meant to be.

Arienne, Scraps, and I entered the house to find it in a state of chaos. Ma was cooking the day’s eggs as well as some bacon we had gotten from the Meyers, our neighbors. Pop was leaning back in his chair smoking a pipe. Henry, my younger brother, was smoking next to him. Luckily for the rest of us, the nearby window was open otherwise smoke would have filled the house. Beth was helping Ma with the bacon, while my son Charlie played with the hem of her dress on the floor.

Charlie stood up and ran to Arienne, he grabbed her arm and gestured to some toys he had near the dining table. Both of them ran to go play while I walked up behind Beth, wrapping my arms around her. Scraps followed the two children, making sure to keep them away from the neatly set table.

“Good morning, dear,” I said, kissing the back of Beth’s head.

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “I see you cleaned up, good. Go tell the boys to smoke outside, they seem to have something stuck in their ears.”

I laughed. Still holding onto Beth, I turned towards Henry and Pop, throwing them an angry look. “Hey! You two put out your smokes and start helping out around here before I fire you.”

Henry laughed, but he did put out his pipe and get up to dump it outside. “Can’t fire me if I don’t work for you, remember?” For the past couple of years, Henry had worked with me and Pop on the farm. With the recent death of the town blacksmith, Henry had volunteered to take over the position. He still lived with the rest of the family, but he spent his days working hard around his smithy. I was grateful he chose to share some of his profits with the family.

While Henry emptied his pipe, Pop continued to smoke, looking up at me with smug defiance. He gestured for me to take Henry’s seat. With a sigh, I separated from my loving wife and sat down. But not before grabbing Pop’s pipe and putting it out myself.

“You gonna pay me back for that?” he asked.

“If you did some work around here, you could buy it yourself.”

“Why would I have had two boys if I wanted to work in my old age.”

“Old age! You’re in the prime of your life. You’re lazy, not old,” I said, tapping his pipe against his knee for emphasis.

“I was working these fields before you were a glimmer in my eye. Maybe I should have kept the farm for myself instead of giving it to you. Or better yet, let Henry deal with it.”

“Deal with it is right.” The two of us laughed, rocking back in the chairs. Beth and Ma shook their heads as we argued back and forth.

Wanting to relax after a busy morning, I took out my pipe and handed Pop back his. The two of us stood up and went outside, not wanting to further upset Beth. “If you’re not back when breakfast is done we’re starting without you,” she said as I shut the door behind me.

We stood by the road, leaning against the fence while we smoked. Pop lit his pipe using a piece of glass and inhaled deeply before looking at me. “I’m worried about Henry.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Henry? Why? He’s been doing great, all the merchants love his steel.”

Pop took another puff. “You heard the news from Ormkirk? Their blacksmith went missing. Disappeared without a trace.”

“Maybe they got bored,” I replied, shrugging. “Skipped town to avoid paying their debt?”

He shook his head, gently tapping his pipe against the wooden fence. “I don’t like it. Do you know what they’ve been saying? They’ve been saying he was taken by some sort of cat creature.”

“Cat creature?” It was common to hear stories about princesses taken by hungry dragons. Or about towns demolished by a horde of orcs. But I had never heard about any kind of creature that looked like a cat but wasn’t.

Henry joined us by the fence, lighting his pipe. “Harska. That’s what they’ve been calling them.”

Pop waved his hand dismissively. “Something like that. Doesn’t matter what they call them, I don’t like it.”

“What do you think, Henry?” I asked, staring down at my pipe.

He shrugged. “Folks talk. That doesn’t mean they’re telling the truth.”

I had to agree. As someone who made a hobby of collecting stories, people did tend to exaggerate. Still, I had never heard of a harska, let alone some kind of cat creature stealing blacksmiths. It didn’t seem like it could be true, but I wasn’t sure. Stranger things had happened in the world.

Pop dumped out the contents of his pipe, smashing his boot against the smoking debris. “I don’t like it.” He headed back to the house, still grumbling about cats and blacksmiths.

After taking a long drag from his pipe, Henry turned towards me with a smile. “Speaking of blacksmiths, Arienne seemed interested in checking out the smithy. Would you be alright if I took her down with me today?”

“What about Charlie?” I asked.

“He’s glued to Beth’s hip. I doubt he’d leave her side if she didn’t make him.”

I laughed. My son did seem too clingy for his own good. “Alright, if you’re willing to watch her for the day, then go for it. It’ll be good for her to see something outside of the farm. Of course, you’ll have to ask Beth first.”

Henry smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth. “Fantastic! Been a while since I spent the day with my niece.

The door to the house opened, Arienne leaned on the handle as she yelled, “Poppy! Uncle Henry! Breakfast is ready!”