Dance Macabre: Tales from a Cursed Land

II: Changeling

A luxurious home, the title of baron, a sizable area of land to rule, supporting parents, a beautiful wife and a child on the way. What more could a man wish for? If Thomas were to be asked to describe his life in one word, he would have picked "perfect".

As he arrived to the castle yard, he left the servants to deal with his horse and the fat boar he had killed on the hunt and headed to the top floor of the central tower. The entire floor comprised of one room, mostly empty except for a solid stone slab – some might have called it an altar -, on which had been laid a large bronze bowl surrounded by four candles.

"Father, wait!" he called out to the older man who was just lighting the last candle. "I also have an offering to the Old Man of the Mountain."

The man gave him a fatherly smile. He was by no means too old to take care of ruling the land himself, but ever since a small pack of treestalkers - small, furry humanoids that looked like starved, dirty rats and hunted anything warm-blooded by jumping down from cliffs or more commonly tree branches - had surprised him and taken a solid bite on his leg, he had found it hard to walk without a cane and near impossible to ride. So after struggling with the fact for closer to a month, trying to fulfill his duties, he had reluctantly given up his title to his son and accepted retirement. And admittedly Thomas was doing a fine job of it, perhaps even better than he had in his youth. "What did you catch, my boy?" he asked.

"A boar for us." He dug out a small winged body from the sack he had brought along. "And an imp for the Old Man."

"Fine catch, indeed," his father praised him. "A horned one too. I'm sure he will be pleased."

"So am I." Thomas placed the body in the bowl next to the small bottle of some blueish concoction, no doubt some kind of fiend blood or expensive herbal oil, and lit the last candle. For a moment everything was quiet. Then the bowl started vibrating with a faint humming sound. And then the candles went out, leaving only the lantern on the floor as light source, and the contents disappeared.

Thomas picked up the lantern from the floor, glad that their offerings had been accepted. He was already about to head back downstairs, but stopped as he heard a quiet, yet grating voice in his head. "Baron..." it whispered, "I require a baby not yet born. Human or animal, the race does not matter."

Thomas nodded. "As you wish, my lord."

At least an animal embryo would suffice. But even if it had not, he would have scoured his barony for a suitable mother and cut the baby out if he had to. That was the pact his ancestors had made with the Old Man. A land of their own to rule in exchange for answering to every wish of the Dark Lord. It was a land ridden with monsters, like nearly every other area in this world, but it was their own. The men here were strong, armed with the runes bestowed by the Old Man of the Mountain, and could hold their own against the monsters. If someone could not...well, they had deserved their fate.

"How is Elena?" he turned to his father to ask.

"Oh, she's been feeling a little under the weather, but your mother said that it's normal. And since she gave birth to you, I believe she knows what she's talking about."

"That's good. Please tell Elena I have one more command from the Old Man to fulfill and then I'll be right by her side."

Meanwhile, Elena was lying on her bed and clutching her stomach, her mother-in-law gently wiping the sweat from her brow.

"My dear, everything will be alright," she cooed. "You don't need to worry."

"Katrina..." She gasped as another kick hit her from the inside. But at the same time a huge sense of relief washed over her. The baby was kicking. The baby was alive. The movements had gotten so infrequent lately. "Something is wrong. I just know it."