Polslavan Fairytale

Dokzentir

In the lands of Polslava, a remote and forested area. The night was dark and moonless, only faint stars through the holes in the cloud ceiling. A faint fog was lying in the cold air, obscuring the distance. Those with fantasy could imagine hints of faces on the trees. Only one thing broke the silent atmosphere. A tiny fancy wooden hut was standing alone. A window shone a soft glow of promised warmth. A barely audible music box played its melody both creepy and dreamy through the bleak woods. Around the wooden shack, a blooming of diverse flowers, unfitting to the rest of the scenery. The thing seemed out of place, like a lovely cotton candy stand in the grim setting of a cemetery.

@Polslava

Polslava

Such nights as these were heavily favored by hunters, the vast, untouched wildlands of Western Polslava providing vast expanses of hunting and camping grounds for the spelunkers among the population. As was the case for a group of two, clad in hunters camouflage, slick, carbon black compound bows handing lightly in their hands. Silence had permeated the entirety of their current hike, the crunch of leaves and the sounds of the forest filling their ears, the bright white was of LED light illuminating narrow cones of forest in front of them. They hadn't reached their preferred spot yet, that was still a good few miles out but as they happened upon the faint noise of the music box they paused. Having travelled the route so many times a sudden change was perturbing, they approached, bows knocked with an arrow. It was indeed out of place a cabin in the woods that wasn't there the last hundred times they had travelled the path was certain to off put anyone with a sense of reason. Regardless they felt compelled to approach, lowering their guard as they drew nearer.

@Dokzentir

Dokzentir

Looking through the window revealed nothing but the faint orange glow. Like the light itself made the the inside foggy. The door of the shack was carved into intricate patterns. As one got closer, the creepy and dreamy melody was not getting louder, as if it was meant to always be heard from a distance. It was joined by a sweet smell that reminded of fresh bread, cookies, and a weird nostalgia for old moments one never had. There hung a line connected to a fancy golden bell next to the frame of the door.

@Polslava

Polslava

Murmured words were shared between the pair, it seemed safe? There wasn’t anything malicious about it upon closer inspection, and although it wasn’t familiar it did indeed seem harmless enough. The two hunters eventually gave into their curiosity after further discussion, electing to instead just open the door, entering into the building with a soft chime of the bell connected to the door, their weapons now reattached to their hiking packs in order for them to seem as non-violent as possible, the warm glow of the light inside suggesting that there was indeed an inhabitant living inside. Although they’d be liars if they said the smell didn’t have a role in their decision to enter, who would deny a fresh cookie?

@Dokzentir

Dokzentir

The inside space proved significantly larger than what the tiny shack observed from outside would suggest. The walls were stacked with shelves of curiosities. A row of flasks containing colorful liquids, on the verge between looking like beverages and wizard's potions. Lanterns hanging from the ceiling each with flames of different hue. A counter split the room. The front was lit, but luminosity decreased ever more with distance, with the true extent of the area blanketed in darkness behind. A collection of vibrant pastries decked decked the scene.

A grandfather clock to the side of the wall was ticking faintly. But it seemed somehow off. It displayed a number of foreign symbols and icons. A pair of decorative eyes were looking left and right in the rhythm of the ticking. The ticking was slow, loud and deliberate when one looked directly at the clock. But when averting the gaze it seemed to speed up slightly, growing fainter, and in the corner of one's vision one sensed the clock's eyes no longer following their established rhythm. It was as if an unobserved clock was up to secret shenanigans.

From the darkness behind the counter glinted two specks of violet eyes. A figure emerged with two pairs of wings in the colors of raspberry, and a fluffy exoskeleton in the colors of bramble. They looked around for a moment, like someone unsure if they were dreaming. They finally made eye contact with the visitors. "Greetings travelers to Raspberry Estate." They walked over to a construct one would expect in a mad chemists lab, tubes and flasks, steaming and drooping with colorful viscous substances. Turning a faucet she filled a jar with the dark-red substance. "We make pastries of many kinds, but we really like our jam and jelly."

Polslava

Each of the men blinked in surprise, their eyes and minds adjusting to what should have been quite impossible, one stepping out and in again just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating or anything of the sort. The one who didn't double check was lithe and tall, pulling down his hood to reveal a slightly messy mat of light brownish hair, a pair of swirling blue eyes, several shades of the color connecting into a black iris. He was inspecting the shop, absorbed in the row of strange liquids and then quite fixated on the clock, too busy to notice the figure that came out from the darkness.

However the second, a much broader but still similarly tall man took notice after casting a look at his companion and of course at the clock, which instead of wonder seemed to draw just the slightest pang of annoyance as its rhythm seemingly changed based on how directly you looked at the thing. The broad one first noticed the eyes, making him jump just slightly as the rest of the figure was revealed, a startled expression changing into a confused one, it wasn't everyday that one got to see a humanoid butterfly of some sort, he wasn't really sure and was past the point of comfortably making any assumptions regarding the situation by this point. Although it would be a short while before the shopkeeper would receive an answer as the two men pulled together and shared another short huddle. It spoke common apparently, although it being within the territory of their nation did they speak Polslavan? Eventually they gathered up some courage as the broad one approached, letting his smaller friend turn his attention to the baked goods, who wouldn't anyways. "Greetings to you too, Czy mówisz w języku ojczystym? We haven't seen you in this particular area before... and to be quite honest a hunting trail seems like a peculiar place to set up a shack." He said, pausing for a moment to let a new question formulate in his head. "When did you get here? And more importantly how, we're quite far from the nearest notable city..."

@Dokzentir

Dokzentir

The figure thought for a moment about the question. "It's like the rabbit-in-the-hat trick. The inside of the hat is unseen, and because of that there is no-one to witness the absence of a rabbit, which opens up the potential of a rabbit's presence." She took a small jar of jam and opened it. "In the city our absence is witnessed, the remote forest is unobserved. Only witnessed things set anchors, and as long as our absence is not witnessed, there is a window of possibility. The unobserved is indefinite. " From behind her back she pulled out a silver spoon and dipped it in the jar. "I don't know how we got here, because we cannot be there to witness it." She started eating the jam with the spoon. "We need a visitor, to actually witness our presence, because only then is it definite that we are actually here."

She looked around the room. From a far corner a pair of green eyes looked back. The first figure spoke to them. "Hello dear, good to witness you." She turned around again. "He's a little shy. Anyway, is there something tasty you would like to acquire?"