FatElf

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“Sah tus”.

The crossbow prod was still intact, but the tiller had broken into pieces, and the string snapped during the attack. Jenny let the broken weapon fall down and looked around the abandoned forge. Perhaps she could find another weapon here. She never trained with a sword, axe, or hammer.

Jenny reached for another berry. She couldn’t keep the moan from escaping. These things were so tasty. Better than honey, and the heat it left in the mouth, she never had anything like that before. She got up and walked toward the workstations, looking for a spear. Jenny had no illusion that fighting anything in melee combat was viable. The burns on her back and arms still stung, and the creature hadn’t even hit her. She didn’t know how to use a bow, even if she found one here. A spear was the only viable weapon.

Biscuit hopped alongside, sniffing things and jumping around them like a curious puppy.

The beginning of a smile broke on Jenny’s face.

Biscuit looked at her. “Tah us.” He bleated.

Jenny shuddered and looked away. No, the cursed rabbit wasn’t cute.

The workstations around the forge had several weapons, most lost to time and disrepair. An unfinished sword caught Jenny’s eyes. It was a massive blade, bigger than herself. How could anyone wield that thing? Jenny’s inspection didn’t reveal anything that would help. She found one of the workshops that forged spears, but the metal head was rusty, and the wooden shaft was brittle and broken.

Could she rely on Biscuit’s evil magic? That wasn’t feasible either. All the stories she knew about the folly of sorcerers before the shattering always spoke of the same thing: Magic demanded a heavy price, the sorcerer’s lifeforce and sanity. More often than not, a sorcerer could work a single significant piece of magic before being incapacitated. Or at least that was how it was in the books. The hero always attacked after the enemy expended all his magical power into a single big spell, which left the sorcerer defenseless for weeks.

Jenny remembered the parchment and the contract. Assuming Biscuit was responsible, he wove a magical contract and healed her from a mortal wound in a single night. Healed her again from more injuries after a possible fatal drop and now summoned demonic rabbits to save her from a fire demon. There was no way the rabbit could keep this up. A distant corner of her mind also realized the many times the rabbit saved her life.

“Aah tus.” The rabbit bleated again.

Goosebumps spread from her legs to her back and arm. Jenny suppressed a shudder. She had no idea what Biscuit wanted, but she wished he would stop with the creepy sounds. Was this some sort of petty torture?

A glint of rusted metal behind one of the anvils caught Jenny’s attention. She walked closer and around the anvil, and Biscuit followed. The metal tip turned out to be a spear, its surface marred by patches of rust that crept along the shaft with the reddish-brown hue of corrosion. Even then, the weapon looked imposing, with intricate patterns barely visible beneath the rust.

The spear shaft, different from the others, was an entire piece of metal, rusted and decorated in fading designs. What remained of the leather gripping clung stubbornly to the metal shaft. Despite everything, the weapon looked dangerous, even if it the rusted implement wasn’t something any sane person would use in battle. Jenny picked the spear. She wasn’t sane, anyway, and she also had no choice.

“Staa tuuss”. Biscuit said again.

It was heavy, almost too heavy. Jenny inspected the whole thing. It was not ideal; it needed urgent repair, but it was better than the dagger.

Jenny sat down and put the spear by her side. She picked up the bag and one of the trousers, cut the coarse fabric, and used it to clean the spear. It didn’t work like she expected, but better than nothing. Then Jenny carved the trousers into two thin strips and tied them on the spear shaft, where the leather handles were before. She made sure to tie it as tight as possible.

The end result wasn’t good, but it was better than directly touching the rusted metal. She got up and settled into a stance.

“Staaaa usss.”

Jenny closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and ignored the rabbit. Why was he doing this? He’d been repeating the same thing for hours. It freaked Jenny out, even if it was also annoying as hell. How could something be creepy and annoying at the same time?

With her posture ready, Jenny thrust. Unprepared and unfamiliar with the weapon’s weight, she lost balance and took several steps forward, carried by the spear’s momentum.

“Staa tuuss”.

Jenny resettled her stance, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths. “Thrust, remember the weapon is heavy; ignore the demonic rabbit,” she muttered, preparing for another attempt. She cleared her mind, focused on her legs and hands, and prepared the movement.

“Sta uss”.

Jenny whirled, weapon pointed at the rabbit. “Would you stop it!” She screamed. She released the spear — it clattered loudly — hands going to her head, clutching at her hair. “Why are you doing this?”

Biscuit watched her for a moment. He hopped closer and pawed at her legs. Jenny recoiled, then shook. After another deep breath to calm down, she picked up the rabbit. She didn’t want to, but was afraid of denying the cute critter.

The rabbit nuzzled Jenny’s hand. He rubbed his nose gently against her palm.

Jenny sat down. Something was wrong here. If Biscuit wanted to torture her, why was he being so affectionate all of a sudden?

“Why are you doing it?” She asked again. “Why do you keep saying staaus?”

Biscuit perked up at the last word. His ears pointed in Jenny’s direction. He licked her hand and then did a little dance. “Staa uss,” he said again.

“Wait, you want me to repeat that?” Jenny eyed the rabbit, incredulous. “Staaus.” She said.

Biscuit shook his head, then stopped. “Staaaa tuuuusss.” He repeated.

Jenny thought back at all the iterations of the same nightmarish sound from the past hour. It was apparent that Biscuit couldn’t make the sound he wanted, so he kept trying variations of the same.

“Staatuusss.” Jenny said.

Biscuit hopped, happy. He nuzzled Jenny’s hand again, licked it, then danced. “Sta tus.”

Jenny took a deep breath. The word was shorter than before, but it had the same sound. “Status,” she called out.

Biscuit squealed, happy and high. A different parchment showed up before Jenny’s eyes.

FatElf

Next chapter tomorrow.

Thank you for reading!