The Source of All Evil

Chapter Eleven

Michaela Walker. 

“Come here, Kirby,” she flashed her anxious pet a smile, and it jumped towards her arms as Michaela held it close to her chest. “We need to find a way out of this forest.”

She said that, but she didn’t know where to start. One thing she knew for sure, and that was to walk the opposite way from where the growling sounds came.

She ventured inside the forest, stopping whenever she heard an unfamiliar sound. She was fully aware of how vulnerable she was in this world, and she hated that she never thought of asking Rafe for something to defend herself with.

Albeit, it was stressful for her, the walk was clear of troubles. Michaela stopped when she reached a dead end, a cliff overlooking a big lake. She could see lights in the distance, and it looked like it was coming from a small town or a village. The only issue was to find a safe way down the cliff.

She rubbed her pet’s face, saying. “You think you can do what you did before and get us to that town over there?”

Kirby blinked its eyes at where Michaela pointed, nodding. It jumped off her arms, closing its eyes tight shut, emitting a cute, rumbling sound as it started growing in size.

“It’ll take me some time to get used to this,” she said with a chuckle, staring at Kirby as it created a void in front of it. She stepped inside it, getting engulfed once again by darkness. She yelped when the space moved, getting motion sickness as she tried to keep her balance, feeling better once she sat down on the ground.

It took a while as the space steadily moved, then it shook intensely. Michaela cried in surprise as she got thrown out of the void. She rolled violently on a grassy ground, catching the sight of Kirby in its original shape, looking battered as it sprawled on the ground, motionless.

She hurried towards Kirby, checking on it, feeling bad for the state her pet was in. She assumed that it used up all its powers to get her here, but boy, was she wrong. Michaela stopped what she was doing after hearing shrieks coming from behind her. She slowly turned around, faintly gasping at the sight of an army of Onyx-looking creatures with deformed gorilla faces, sneering at her, their mouths wide open, showing their sharp teeth.

Michaela has never seen something as ugly-looking as them, crippling her with fear as her legs weakened beneath her. She carried Kirby in her arms, slowly stepping away as they drew closer. Their large wings flapping loudly, behaving like a pack of wolves as they surrounded her.

This was it, she thought. She had two choices. She could either book it towards the town or pray for a quick death. But Michaela wasn’t a person to leave it to fate. She swiftly turned around and ran, surprising the colony of creatures stalking her, who seemed dumbfounded for a moment that Michaela actually thought of running.

“Oh s**t, oh s**t, oh s**t. . .” She cursed aloud, weaving through the trees, her heart drumming loudly, eyes wide, breathing heavily, as she ran towards the light.

She heard a loud shriek by her left ear, and she quickly ducked, groaning when the creature missed her face by mere inches, yet it still clawed her back with its feet.

“Oh god, I don’t want to die!” She cried, running even faster in panic, shouting at the top of her lungs for any person nearby to help.

Another shriek sounded closer, and this time, one of the creatures managed to grab her shoulders, lifting her in the air. Michaela yelped, holding unconscious Kirby tightly, sweating profusely and flailing her body in the air. She struggled some more, hoping to weigh down the creature that it’d drop her. She didn’t care how high she was in the air. She preferred to die from a fall to the ground than getting ravaged by these creepy-looking things.

A fireball flashed past her, then another, and another, as the creature carrying her let out a shriek, slowing down, seemingly in pain. The fire attacks continued, successfully hurting the creature as it let her go and flew away with its colony of alike creatures.

Michaela found herself falling at a fast speed towards the ground as gravity did its thing. She screamed, closing her eyes, anticipating her end. Fortunately, that didn't happen as she bumped into something that stopped the fall. Michaela opened her eyes to find herself in another man’s arms. This time around, the age difference was substantial, glaring at the long white beard, wise brown eyes, and deep furrow of the man holding her.

She got surprised by the man's aging looks. Weren't people from this world supposedly all look young? she wondered.

“You’re safe, dear.” His voice came out rough as if he’s been smoking tobacco the entirety of his life. There was a distinct accent, so prominent, similar to the one from the southern region in her country, back in the world.

“Thank you,” she said in full gratitude, staring blankly at the creatures who cowardly flew away. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Hmm, they definitely weren’t planning to hurt you since they carried you away like a trophy. Cursedwings are vicious and often kill on the spot.”

Michaela shivered in fear, whining slightly as she said. “Say that to my back. One of them pierced its claws through the skin of my back. It burns.”

“Oh dear, oh dear, we need to treat it at the earliest. Their claws are poisonous.” The old man said and flew towards the town, smiling her way. “Don’t you worry. Once we get to my village, I’ll ask the mage to make an elixir to counter the poison.”

“Thank you,” she repeated again, as she didn’t just survive a mythical creature attack to die from poisoning. Glancing towards her pet, she asked the old man. “I don’t know what they did to my pet. Do you think the mage can heal it?”

“You’re using a Divine lovefairy as a pet?! That’s blasphemous if I must say.”

“Oh,” was all she could say, staring in amazement at Kirby, who turned out to be a Divine creature.

“But I guess it’s okay,” the old man said with a light chuckle. “It seems to like you enough to protect you.”

She felt happy to hear this from a stranger, as she also thought that she had a strong bond with Kirby. “Do you think the mage can tell what’s wrong with it?”

The old man’s chest rumbled as he let out a laugh. “Divine Fairies can recover on their own. Don’t be concerned, dear. Just give it some time.”

Though he reassured her, she still looked with concern-filled eyes at Kirby, rubbing its cheek, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt.

“We’re here.”

Michaela stared ahead of her at the seemingly vacant village, as no one was around. If it weren’t for the lit lanterns that illuminated the streets and houses, she could’ve easily thought the village got abandoned.

It must be late at night, and all the residents retired into their abodes to sleep. Nonetheless, Michaela felt safe to be away from that forest and vicious creatures, sighing relieved as the old man placed her on the ground.

“Malick, the mage, lives here.” The old man walked in front of her, showing her the way towards a corner house. The buildings in the street were all old, shabby, and primitive-looking, unlike the structures she’s seen at the Capital. The scale of wealth between that and the other was huge, making her wonder where she was now in relation to this world.

So far, the story's world in that magical book proved to be vast and more complicated than what it appeared. Besides, the story seemed to have changed. Michaela wondered if she still had around three months before the crusade against the Crystfire kingdom would happen.

The old man knocked on the wooden front door of the corner house, and soon they heard someone muttering something behind the door. The voice sounded soft yet brusque, a bit familiar to her ears.

The door slowly opened, and the old man moved for her to step closer. Michaela didn’t move, staring with stunned eyes at the man who opened the door.

“Craig?!”

The guy had a small stature and features similar to Craig, her friend from her world, but definitely wasn’t him as he frowned her way.

“Who is she, Chief?”

Michaela blinked her eyes, noticing the dissimilarities between this guy and Craig, yet he still looked like him and could be mistaken for his twin brother.

The old man cleared his throat, snapping her out of her daze to find them both staring her way. She quickly realized what they were waiting for, curtly grinning.“Oh, my name is Mich. . . I mean, Hannah Mich.” She chose to lie about her name just in case if the Crystfire King or the Celestial Master would send people looking for her. She wasn’t sure if the Crystfire King knew her name, but she wasn’t about to take any chances.

The Craig lookalike seemed like the paranoid type, suspiciously glaring at her. “And what are you doing here, Hannah Mich?”

Michaela had to think quickly for something to say. Her eyes caught the empty jars and the crackling fire behind the man, saying confidently. “I’m a traveling chef from Crystfire kingdom. I went out on a quest to explore the different cuisines the world has to offer.”

Michaela tried not to show fear on her face as both men stared at her in a brief silence before the old man chuckled, playing with his long beard, saying. “They still do that? Crystfire people sure are still eccentric, driven by a sense of adventure.”

Michaela eagerly agreed with what he said, smiling his way.

“She got attacked by Cursedwings, and one of them scratched her back. I have to trouble you in checking her wound and giving her the cure.”

The man didn’t move, his green eyes still on her as he crossed his arms on his chest. “And what would I gain from this?”

You sure are not Craig. A least he’d help first then ask for a reward.

The man’s eyes fell on Kirby, and he smirked. “I can help you if you give it to me.”

She felt infuriated by the audacity of this man, saying as politely as she could. “forget it then. I’m fine.”

She turned around to leave, but the old man called for her to stop. “Malick, she’s injured, and she’s a chef. When was the last time you had a good meal?”

The guy, Malick, seemed to be considering it, and she hoped he wouldn’t ask her to be his personal chef. She could cook, yes, but she was nowhere near a chef level.

Malick moved away, silently inviting them in.

Michaela looked around the main room of Malick’s house, taking everything in. It was barely furnished, as she could only see two chairs and a small table in the corner. A big wooden apothecary cabinet took most of the space in the room, making Michaela’s eyes brighten at the thought of all the medicinal treasures that laid inside it.

There was a big, black cauldron in the middle of the room, next to a chemistry bench. A herbal whiff hit Michaela's nostrils, inducing a sense of nostalgia that clouded her mind, reminiscing on the happy times she spent with her father. He had a peculiar fascination over spices and herbs, and he would always tell her how they served as one main language that helped people explore different cultures. 

She got enthused with tasting different dishes because of her father. She always wanted to experience his fascination over food, carefully analyzing and digesting every meal, developing an interesting palate. 

Malick pulled one of the chairs for the old man to sit, silently asking Michaela to wait as he went inside another room. Michaela used the time to find a spot for Kirby to get comfortable. She found a small cushion on the floor beside a small bookshelf, softly placing her pet on it, petting its head, watching it let out sounds similar to snores.

She hoped what these two men said was true and that Kirby would recuperate on its own. She hated herself for putting it through this, and she made a silent promise to keep it safe in the future.

Malick returned, carrying two chairs for her and him to sit. Michaela felt herself frown as there was an empty chair available in the room. She brushed it off, curtly thanking him.

“Let me check your back,”

Michaela nodded, leaning forward in her chair, feeling a bit awkward and uncomfortable to be in the company of two strangers in an unfamiliar place, and she dreaded when her spontaneousness and carefree behavior would get in more trouble.

Malick hummed, slowly lifting her shirt, careful not to expose her front. His actions made Michaela realize one important thing. She didn’t have a bra on. Yes, the whole time while she was jumping, running, holding men as they carried her, she was braless. 

She was used to not wearing one in her world, as it didn’t serve any purpose. Her breasts were of small size, matching with her tiny, small waist. Michaela was neither skinny nor chubby. She had meat on her bones, an end result for eating whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. She barely worked out, but she was one of the blessed people who hardly gained weight no matter what they ate.

You would imagine for someone with a bad sleeping schedule, a worse eating habit, and an extreme reliance on sugar to restore her energy would be unfit. But no, Michaela always baffled her friends for her mindboggling stamina and peculiar strength.

Heat traveled to her cheeks, instantly sweating from embarrassment, feeling Malick’s cold finger press against her skin.

“Your shirt is evidently torn and bloodied, but there is no wound.”

Michaela made a dumb attempt to turn her head as if she could see her back, almost straining her neck. The old man placed his hand on her shoulder, stopping her from moving as he checked her back.

“That’s impossible! There clearly was a wound on her back when I brought her here.”

“Well, it isn’t there anymore. . . I can’t sense her spiritual powers, too. Can you?”

Michaela was shaking in her boots at what Malick shrewdly pointed out to the old man, trying to remain calm not to raise suspicions.

“Me neither. She doesn’t have the demeanor of someone of an expert level for her to heal the wounds that quick. I can safely assume that she doesn't have any.”

Michaela listened to them talk about her as if she weren’t there, both wondering how her wounds healed if she didn’t have spiritual powers. They found it strange that someone as unfortunate as her existed, being a human in a world of spiritual perception and enlightenment.

She lied once; it wouldn’t hurt if she lied some more, right?

“I got cursed and drained out of my spiritual powers when I was a kid. My family tried every possible elixir for me to replenish my powers, yet nothing worked. . . I didn’t let it stop me from being who I am and in doing what I want.”

“That’s the spirit!” The old man said encouragingly, pulling her shirt down, patting her shoulder. “Only experts from the demon clan can do something as heinous as this. I’m afraid it’s hard to break the curse with spiritual elixirs. They only serve to cure their venomous attacks.”

“It’s okay,” she feigned a sad expression, leaning back in the chair, glancing at Malick. “Since the wound disappeared, does that mean I’m regaining my powers back?!”

Of course, she knew that she didn’t have any powers, to begin with, but she wanted her act to sound believable.

Malick narrowed his eyes, glancing at the area where she laid Kirby to rest, then back at her. “Divine fairies don’t have the ability to heal physical wounds, but yours could be special. It must’ve used its powers even in its unconscious state. I'm afraid you still don't have spiritual powers.”

“Yes, it sure cares for her enough to save her from the Cursedwings.” The old man said with a chuckle. “But I’d suggest that you monitor her health for a couple of days, just in case if she starts showing signs of poisoning.”

“Me? Are you implying that she should stay here?!”

If I had money, I would’ve happily left your precious house, she thought. But she had to swallow her dignity, pulling a miserable look to soften Malick’s heart. “I just need a place to stay for a couple of days. . . I dropped my gold in the forbidden forest while running away from those creatures, but I promise to find a way to pay you back.”

She chose to say gold instead of money, afraid that they referred to the monetary system differently from her world. And it didn’t help that she didn’t recall a lot of information from that book, which was understandable since she only copied a story that wasn’t her own.

“Eh, you must be from a rich family.”

Michaela frowned at what Malick said, and he let out a sigh, taking a seat on the chair beside hers. “If you haven’t noticed, people here can’t even dream of owning Silver coins, let alone Gold.”

“Aren’t you from the Fire Dragon clan?” She stated the obvious since the old man could manipulate fire. Only members of the Fire Dragon clan were able to use fire attacks.

“We chose to be independent due to some leadership issues.”

“You don’t have to be subtle, Chief.” Malick had his arms folded on his chest. A faint smirk appeared on his lips. “The current Fire Master is corrupt, using his people to do his dirty work. Thus, we decided to separate from the clan.”

“Oh,” she said, knowing well how corrupt the current Fire Master was. “And Expert Hosuh is fine with what’s going on?”

The old man frowned. “Don’t you know? Master Hosuh is currently in closed-door meditation, unaware of what‘s happening within the clan.”

Oh, yeah! We’re still at the beginning of the story.