The healer's cottage sat in a grove of old pine trees. It was isolated from the main town, connected only by a narrow dirt path that wound through the trees. Smoke rose from the chimney, and dim light glowed in the windows.

"It's pretty out here," Tristan said.

"Very." It wasn't just pretty, but the air was so, so clean-smelling.

"You ready?" Tristan asked.

"Yeah, let's do it."

We walked together to the front door and knocked.

"Coming!" The woman's voice was pure and sing-songy. I could hear footsteps within, then the door opened.

"Goddess..." Tristan whispered.

"Wow..." The woman who answered our knock was possibly the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with thick red hair pulled back in a simple braid and piercing blue eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. She had a light, friendly smile on her face and exuded raw confidence.

"Good evening," she said in her sing-song voice. "You must be the young people working with the Templars. I treated one of your friends earlier today."

"So pretty..." Tristan said under her breath.

I shook my head, but the image of the woman remained etched in my mind. "We are. I'm Tristan, and this is Alex." Realizing what I'd said, I corrected myself, "Sorry. I'm Alex. That's Tristan. Would you mind if we come in?"

"Of course! This place is welcome to all weary souls." She moved aside and beckoned for us to enter.

Without hesitation, we both walked past the threshold and into the house. The woman shut the door behind us. Inside, a variety of herbs, some I recognized and some I didn't, hung from every wall. Some plants grew in small planters on shelves by the windows. Even her furniture seemed to have a natural theme. There was a wooden table, chairs fashioned of intricately woven branches, and futons padded with what looked like fur and feathers.

"Come, sit down. I'll brew some tea." Without waiting for us to sit, she practically floated into her kitchen.

Sitting down at the table with Tristan, she scooched close to me and said, "Wow, she's pretty. Like... damn. I'm a little envious."

"I noticed," I whispered. She wasn't wrong. In terms of sheer beauty, she was off the scale. "But don't be. You're gorgeous."

She looked over at me and smiled. "Thanks."

A few minutes later, the woman returned with several cups of tea. "Here. Drink this. It'll help calm your nerves and purify the body's inner energy."

"Thank you." As I took the warm cup from her hands, I inhaled deeply. It smelled sort of like lemony cloves, but it was also floral. I'd never really smelled anything like it. Since the ring didn't budge, I decided it was safe enough to drink. I blew on the liquid, then drank a long pull of the stuff. It tasted even better than it smelled.

Seeing that I drank, Tristan did the same. She nearly downed the cup in one go. "This is amazing. What kind of tea is this?"

"It's something I discovered out here. I call it peace leaf tea." She gave us a serene smile. "You know, you're the first real visitors I've had since settling here."

I decided it wouldn't hurt to fish for a little information. "Jorn said he'd stopped by to see you. Said you two've known one another for a long time. But it's hard to believe someone as young as you are could have known him for over a decade, let alone dated him."

She smiled sweetly. "I appreciate that. It's not often I get called young anymore."

I looked her over. Her pale skin was lightly freckled, more from genetics than the sun if I had to guess, but there wasn't a wrinkle on her. She looked every bit the mid-twenties woman that she appeared to be. Only her eyes seemed older than she appeared, but that was something.

"Whoever called you old is either an asshole or completely blind." Tristan's eyes were locked on Greta.

The redhead smiled sweetly. "No, no. It's quite all right. Not many people are as old as I am." Her smile deepened.

"How old are you?"

"Alex!"

The healer held up her hands. "It's quite alright. I'm old enough that it hardly matters anymore." She lifted her hands and started counting on her fingers. She used every knuckle and digit. "I think I'm turning... two hundred and eighty-three. I might be off by a year or two."

"What!" I gasped. "Two hundred... How...?"

"I don't believe it." Tristan's voice was heavy.

"I hardly can either some days. Time flies." Her eyes grew distant for a minute. "One minute you're traveling the world with your closest friends, the next a century has gone by and half of them are dead, and the other half are busy with stuff and things." She sighed. "It wouldn't kill them to send a letter every once in a while."

"Who are you really?"

She stood. With a flick of her wrist, her clothes transformed from the plain cotton shirt and dress she was wearing to elegant purple robes of some shimmering fabric that looked more expensive than anything I'd ever seen before. Pulling a gnarled stick from thin air, she put her hand on her hip and said, "I'm Greta the Witch. THE Greta the Witch. Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

I wracked my brain for why I should know that name, but I had nothing. "Who?" I looked over at Tristan, but she simply shrugged.

"Ugh..." Greta flicked her wrist again, and her clothes turned back into peasant clothes. She sat back down, and her staff poofed away in a cloud of smoke. "No one remembers me anymore. It's not nearly as fun as it used to be to do the big reveal now." She looked up at us. Her eyes were misty. "Do you know what people used to do when they heard my name? 'Oh my Goddess! It's Greta, the Great Witch! She helped defeat the Avatars of the Dark Lord! Wow, can I shake your hand?!' Look how amazing you look! Holy smokes, I heard you were a child prodigy, but you sure grew up! Can I buy you a drink?" Her head thumped onto her table. "I miss being popular..."

The words spun around in my head until they sank in. "Holy crap! You're one of the heroes!" The books I'd read hadn't told me much about Greta personally, only that she was the youngest of the Hero's Party.

Her head shot up. "You know me?"

Tristan chimed in. "You're Greta?!" She shot out of her chair and bowed so deeply her head nearly touched the ground. "I am so sorry. We've been incredibly rude." She swatted at me and hissed, "Get off your ass. Now!"

Standing, I bowed. "Sorry, you look really, really different from your pictures in the storybooks."

Greta laughed. "The ones for kids? Do I look older in them?"

I shook my head. "Yeah. And no, they all depict you as a child."

She huffed. "Just because I was a kid when we started our quest doesn't mean I was still one when we took the Thirteen down! Damn historians always get things wrong." She put her chin on the table. "And don't be so formal. That's why I stopped telling people who I was. People get weird." She blew a raspberry.

I straightened my back and looked her over. She wasn't really what I'd expect from a great hero. "Sorry again. But seriously, why do you look so young?"

She sighed. "One of the Thirteen cursed me in the final battle. She said I'd get to feel her pain when the end times came. But so far, it's just boring. I don't know how those Shadowspawn and all these elves do it. Eternity is boring. Maybe humans aren't cut out for living forever, or maybe it's just me."

That did sound like it sucked, but I tried to find the bright side. "Yeah, but you'll probably be around to see the end, which is cool," I said.

She raised her head. "I get to watch the stars fall out of the sky one day. Woohoo."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Tristan straightened out next to me. "Um... Did you really date Jorn? Because you're way too hot for him."

Greta cackled. "Yes? No? It was less dating and more romping."

"Ew." I couldn't help myself.

"Hey! He wasn't always so frumpy. He was actually quite handsome."

"Jorn?" Tristan asked.

"Yeah! And the thing is, I was super lonely, and he was charming. You have to understand, a girl has needs."

"Isn't that the truth?" Tristan hummed and pursed her lips.

Tristan's words bored themselves in my brain. I felt like I'd been seeing a whole different side of her the past few days. "Did he... uh... Do you two actually sleep together?" I was trying really hard not to imagine it, and failing miserably. Just thinking about them having sex made my dick shrivel inside my pants.

"See, here's the thing. You're judging me. And I don't do judgment. So check that attitude, Mr., doesn't please that hot little tart sitting next to you."

"Hey! I would if—"

"He pleases me just fine. All night long, 'til I can't walk." Tristan's jaw set.

My ring tightened dangerously around my finger, but I didn't mind. She had my back in possibly the weirdest but most validating way she could.

Greta laughed. "Thank goodness. So many men are all talk. That's why I swore them off for so long. Then, Jorn and I met fifteen years ago and hit it off right away. The sex was good, too, so why not spend some time together? We spent a few years roaming around and having fun."

I sat down, and Tristan sat beside me. Wait. "He said you two were together ten years ago."

Her head thumped onto the table again. "That's part of the curse. Anyone who spends time with me ends up forgetting me. The longer you're with me, the more details you forget when you're away. The only reason he even remembers me is because I show up to remind him I exist semi-frequently. That, and all the great sex. Hard to forget that."

Tristan blushed. Reaching across the table, she took Greta's hands. "That must be so hard."

"It is!" Greta pouted. "Don't get me wrong, I love having the freedom to live life however I want, but knowing that everyone I'll ever get to know is going to forget about me after I leave stinks."

"Is that why you're here in Goodfield, then?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It was time to fill up Jorn's Greta meter. Turns out, he's all hurt too, so I gave him some potions to help him out. I even offered to fix him myself, but he declined." She smiled sadly. "He said he didn't deserve to heal properly."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "Something about not being able to save some people. He was pretty sulky, so I didn't really get all the particulars. He seemed sad about it, though."

I frowned. "Why aren't you helping fight the monsters out here?"

She cocked her head. "What monsters? There are no monsters in these woods. They wouldn't dare manifest or approach with me out here. I don't even know if they could, outside of the very strongest of them."

The ring didn't budge. She was telling the truth. "Well, then I don't know what's going on. There's something infecting the villagers. Making them rabid. And the village chief transformed into some monster thing. A friend said he looked like a dozen animals melted together. He had this ring on him when he died." I pulled the chief's ring out and put it on the table.

Her eyes scanned the ring, and her face instantly got serious. She pushed herself away from the table, her chair legs squeaking against the wooden floor, and started pacing across her small living room. "Tell me everything you know."

The shift in her demeanor was striking. Without thinking, I went to speak, but Tristan put her hand on mine and shook her head. I understood her thinking. With zero subtext, I asked, "Can we trust you?"

Without skipping a step, Greta said, "Of course you can. I'm one of the Five! If anyone can be trusted, it's Faye, then me. Kasimir, eh. He's always twenty steps up his own ass."

The ring actually loosened on my finger. That had to be a good sign. "Okay, here's what happened..."

***

Over the next few hours, Tristan and I relayed as much information as we could with as much detail as we could. I'd even included some extras, like how I arrived in Reial. I didn't know what would be most relevant, so I simply said everything I could think of.

She listened without comment or sound. When we'd finally finished our story, she continued pacing.

"So, you're a traveler?" She finally asked.

"Yeah."

"And Tristan found you on the side of a road? No one was there when you arrived?"

"Yep."

"And you were wounded when you got here? Badly?"

"Mmhmm."

"I see." She finally stopped pacing. "You were with someone the night you got sent here, correct?"

How did she know that? "I was."

"Were you two close?"

A little guilt bubbled up in me. "Kind of."

"They were. She liked him, and he liked her back, but he was a giant baby about it," Tristan added.

"I wasn't a baby."

"You were. And don't you dare try to put me on the shelf like that, got it?" Her eyes promised murder. "We're partners."

"Got it."

"I see." She stroked her chin with her fingers. "Sounds like you weren't meant to come here."

I didn't like the sound of that. "What does that mean?"

She paused, then sighed. "It happens. You spend time with someone who's called, and you get caught up in the wind. It happened to Kasimir. Faye got called to Reial, and her brother got pulled here with her. He became a hero, but she was the hero. Big difference."

"How does that work?" I was more than a little confused. Nothing in any of the books I'd read mentioned this.

"No one knows. And there's no way to know who'll get caught in the planar wind, either. Often, it's people close to those who get called, but you could have bumped into someone at the market in your world, and BOOM, now you're in Reial. The thing is, those who are actually called usually get sent somewhere cushy. And they're rarely injured. Castaways get dumped in the woods half-naked and mostly broken. Faye said Kasimir looked like an abandoned puppy for a good year."

"Alex was fully naked. Poor guy. Not that he has anything to be embarrassed about."

I... didn't know that. "So I'm just some stray that got pulled here along with someone else?"

"Oh, definitely. You're nobody." Greta's voice was distant, like she didn't just tear my ego to shreds with a single sentence.

"Damn..." Who could it have been? Devon? I hoped not. Dave? Oh God, put me down now. Someone else? For the first time in a very long time, that pig-nosed customer from Dave's cart popped into my head. If it had been her, so help me Goddess...

"But you're not entirely without potential." Greta was looking at me intently. Her gaze was uncomfortably penetrating. It felt like she could see through my soul. "Your class and sign align well, and I sense that your potential is high, if you survive long enough to actualize it. You'll probably cap out around level fifty or so, give or take. Maybe higher, if you go through things. Not bad at all, if you ask me."

My eyebrows scrunched together. "How can you tell?"

She pointed at her eyes. "[Witch Sight]. All of us real witches have it." She pointed at Tristan. "You're about the same as him, maybe stronger, though with those traits, you'll have to work harder than he will to get there. Don't give up, and your party'll go far." She smiled. "Especially once you meet the others."

"The others?"

"Ah ah ah. No spoilers. Otherwise, you might do things wrong, and we can't have that." She held up a finger to her lips.

I shook my head. "Okay, so there aren't any monsters in these woods, but people have been getting attacked. Animals are going missing. Villagers are turning rabid. People are wearing weird symbols on their skin. What's going on?"

She tapped her lips with her finger. "It's simple: One of the Shadowspawn is back and is stirring the pot. Or, maybe someone's found one of their corpses and is channeling its essence. Or a new existential threat may be emerging. These things tend to be cyclical after all."

"So, you don't know is what you're saying."

She shook her head. "It's one of the three. I just don't know which. Or maybe it's all of them!" Her voice was far too cheery for the words she was saying.

Tristan chimed in. "We did find a bunch of undead in Copperhill's dungeon. We found that symbol down there, too." She pointed at the ring.

Greta wiped her face. "Copperhill, hmm." A moment passed, and then her eyes lit up. "The church! There used to be an old temple beneath Copperhill dedicated to Zonon-In. But that doesn't explain the villagers..." She started pacing again. "Maybe there are multiple factions working out here? That would make sense. But how? They're all sealed away. Well, all but one. Maybe two. Their essence is, anyway."

"How do we figure out which it is?"

Greta pursed her lips. "My guess is that two factions are working out here. One in the villages, and one at Copperhill. And if the Temple is currently scourging Copperhill, you're right where you need to be." She sat back down at the table. With a flick of her wrist, a map appeared. On it, the entire region from the Temple to Copperhill was visible. "This map is enchanted. If you find a personal item significant enough to someone, it'll tell you where they've been." She reached her hand out. "One of you, give me something that matters to you."

I couldn't think of anything, but Tristan fished in her pocket for the little book she'd been reading. "Would this work?"

Greta nodded. "Let's see." She took the book from Tristan and placed it on the map. An instant later, lines appeared on its surface. They traveled in a line up from the Temple, through the villages, and into Goodfield. There, the lines twisted and snaked around, and two lines went to and from Copperhill.

I realized that was the path Tristan had walked over the past few days. "And this can work with anything?"

"If you find something important enough to someone, then yes. The more important, the more lines you'll see."

I looked at the chief's ring. Picking it up, I placed it on the map. Another set of lines, these ones in a shade of blue, appeared on the map. They always originated at the chief's house and twisted through the town before doubling back. All but one. That line ended north of Goodfield, about halfway between the village and Copperhill.

"Do these lines mean anything to you?"

I studied them for a while, but nothing seemed significant. "I don't think so." Based on the number of lines, I'd wager the map went back about a week in time. "He didn't do anything but walk around town that week."

She thumbed her chin. "Perhaps there's something more important to him that would grant you a better look into his activities?"

"Maybe we should check his office?" Tristan offered.

That was as good an idea as any. "Want to come with us? We could really use the help."

She shook her head. "Sorry, kids. If what you're saying is true, I need to go speak with some people." She flicked her wrist, and her clothes transformed again. Standing up, her staff appeared in her hand. "But I do have two gifts for you." She pointed at the map on the table. "The map, and this house." She flicked her wrist again, and it almost felt like the house moved. "Until I'm back, I expect you to stay here, aside from the office theft. No one can bother you while you're inside, and we can figure everything out when I get back." She stepped toward the door. "Food's in the pantry, bed's through that door. In five days, I'll be back. Be sure to put some clean sheets down before I return." She opened the door. Through it, all I could see were stars. "Until then, ta ta!" She stepped through the doorway and vanished. The door swung shut.

Standing, I rushed to the door and opened it. Instead of a sea of stars, I was looking at the village square. The house had moved to be directly next to the chief's house.

"She was everything I'd hoped she'd be..." Tristan's voice was dreamy beside me.

"She was a lot." I stepped out of the house. The dim light of dusk fell on my skin. "But you heard her. We have five days. Let's go see what we can find."

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