Chapter Text
Hootsie landed on a pile of leaves with Aunt Twig falling right on top of her. She groaned and carefully slid herself off. Was this how Uncle Gideon felt whenever anyone fell on top of him? It sucked. She shook the excess leaves off and looked around.
There were cloudy skies, dim light, eerie trees with no leaves, a gust of chilly wind howling around them, and piles of dead leaves. Yep, they were in the deep, dark woods, alright. Hootsie may not have heard the proper feytale, but Beauty and Bullybeast certainly didn’t start in the woods.
“That mean old book tricked us!” Aunt Twig huffed, getting up to dust off her apron. Approaching wolves' howls caught their attention. “Oh, I don’t think the book wants us to take part in this tale at all.”
Growls and rushed footsteps followed the howls. They were getting closer. She flew up to block Hootsie’s view and made a fist toward the sounds. “Don’t worry, Hootsie! Auntie Twig is gonna take care of those bloodthirsty wolves and then-”
A large gray wolf leaped from their right, catching Twig by surprise as it growled and bared its fangs. Aunt Twig dug in her pockets for any sort of weapon. “Come on, come on, come on- HERE!” She threw the first thing her hands grabbed, which were a few candied taffies.
The wolf paused for a moment, gave her a deadpan look, then resumed its growling. Four other wolves emerged from behind him, surrounding Twig and Hootsie. They growled and hissed, waiting for the leader to give the order to pounce. However, Hootsie had had enough. She marched past Aunt Twig, remembering what Papa and her uncles had taught her.
Puff up her feathers to make herself look bigger. Stomp her feet loudly and heavily to assert dominance. Make a mean glare directly at the leader. One that looks like she’ll want to eat her enemies. And finally, battle cry!
She shrieked as loud and long as she could, scaring off the crows standing by. The pack leader cowered back with a whimper and ran off in a flash. The other wolves quickly followed, whining and whimpering to get as far away from the big, bad owlbear.
“Yeah, you better run!” Aunt Twig shouted with glee. “That’s my cool niece!”
Hootsie huffed, stomped her front foot three times, and puffed out her chest feathers. Yeah, she is cool! If only her Papa were here to see what she did. He’d be so proud.
Her thoughts were cut short when they heard the feybook’s voice intervene. “Clever girl.”
Their surroundings faded away, leaving the pair in an odd room. There were shelves with a few books, a bunch of plushies, figurines, and boxes. At the center of the room were a few chairs and a long, rectangular table with a map of a new land. It was nothing like Avantris, with a little village, a forest, and a hidden castle. There were figurines placed in different spots on the map that looked exactly like her papas and uncles. While the rest were silver-coated, Uncle Kremy’s figurine was copper-coated, probably because he was still an NPC.
Papa and Papa Frost were in a spot with a small cottage, just near the village where Uncle Gideon was. Then Papa Torbek and Uncle Kremy were at the castle. At the center of the map sat a crystal ball with a few pairs of dice, whose colors corresponded to the members who had awakened. Red for Uncle Gideon, blue for Papa, magenta for Papa Torbek, and green for Papa Frost.
“Hoot?” Hootsie tilted her head at the table, especially at the right end. There was a four-panel screen decorated with thorny rose vines, concealing the visage behind it. She peeked behind it and found a few pieces of paper, some silver dice, and a thick book with several pages sticking out.
Aunt Twig climbed onto one chair. “What do you think we ought to do with all this?”
“You thought you could skip out on my wondrous feytales so easily?” The lights in the room flickered as the walls shook. “Especially when both the Grimgrins had insulted me? For such arrogance, you shall control the path that others cannot foresee.”
“Hoot, hoot?”
“Well, yes…Yes, I did say that…” The flickering and the shaking paused. “But I didn’t think you’d take it seriously! Or how destructive your father turned out to be! I can’t have fun if I’m just tormenting one of you more frequently.”
“Hoot?”
“Do you know how bothersome it is to replace a magic illusionary mirror? All the roles are now scattered and more prone to errors!
“Well, you shouldn’t have threatened to hurt my niece or tricked us into saying the magic words,” Twig crossed her arms with a huff. “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
“Details, details! It’s now time to tip the scales.” The dice suddenly floated and moved over to Hootsie and Twig. “Heed the dice’s numbers and each curse they unveil. Guide your fools and see if your cleverness prevails.”
Thick fog festered inside the crystal ball until it cleared, revealing a live-motion picture of Frost asleep on a modest bed in a quaint room. The figurine of him glowed in a shade of green.
“Control their movements, announce their curses, and whisper into their minds as you please. Just don’t be disappointed when their idiocy makes you seethe…Good luck!”
One paper from the piles jumped up, sliding itself to Twig, who picked it up and read, “Once your first character is awake, dictate what you want to take place.” She frowned and looked at the back of the page. “Whoa, the book wasn’t kidding when it put us in charge of this feytale…”
“Hooot.” Hootsie watched the crystal ball show Papa Frost beginning to wake up. If the book thinks they can’t handle driving the story, it has another thing coming. The green dice rolled themselves to her, shaking. She picked them up with her beak, shook them, and tossed them onto the table.
The dice collided, merging into a larger dice piece with countless sides! It stopped rolling. The number it landed on faded and puffed out a small cloud that spelled out what it meant: Your character will break out in song at the most random moments. Hootsie snorted. She’s more than certain they can use her grandmum’s version of the feytale to make it the most fun-filled tale yet.
“Whoa!” Aunt Twig gasped with a smirk. “This is gonna be so much fun! Can I tell him his curse, pleeeeease?”
“Hoot!”
“Yes!” She leaned over the crystal ball and repeated the curse through her giggles. The ball’s outline glowed green, and within seconds, music began to play as Papa Frost broke out into song. An orange sheet of paper emerged from the base of the ball bearing, an illustrated portrait of Frost in his character’s outfit, and a written description about him.
Hootsie pulled the paper out and read the content. ‘Frosty: the son of an inventor and merchant, the most beautiful humanoid in his village, but also the oddest. Rather than hunting, fighting, or showing off, he spends his time reading as many books as he can borrow. Where should Frosty go after he borrows another book?’
His figurine moved on its own, sliding into the village area of the map. It would shake whenever Papa Frost tried to leave the village until conveniently timed NPCs blocked his way. Midway through the song number, the crystal ball shifted its attention to the outer part of the village, where a lion-tabaxi version of Uncle Gideon screamed to the sky over the discovery of yet another dead clown tormenting him.
Hootsie should probably ask Papa Frost to make a list of all the clowns Uncle Gideon murdered. If he hadn’t already. The genasi statue glowed as the red dice rolled between her and Aunt Twig, shaking like Papa Frost’s dice.
“Oh! Can I roll ‘em this time?” Twig eagerly asked. “Please, please, please!”
“Hoot.” Hootsie nodded just as the crystal ball showed Uncle Gideon being dragged through the village by Klutzy. At least he hadn’t killed him yet. That wouldn’t be good for anybody.
“Yes!” Aunt Twig swiped the dice, encasing them in both her hands, and shook them as fast and as hard as she could. “Come on!” She hissed, her teeth clenched in anticipation. “Mama Twig needs another singing curse.”
Hootsie refocused on the crystal ball, watching Uncle Gideon aim his musket at the sky when Klutzy eagerly said his next line. “And then you’ll sing about how much you love Frosty!”
“HOOT?!” Hootsie slammed her paws on the table just as Uncle Gideon began his protests against the idea of being in love with Papa Frost. Papa and Papa Torbek should be the ones to sing about how much they love Papa Frost! Not Uncle Gideon! Her claws dug into the table just at the thought of that.
“What was that?” Twig jolted, dropping the dice that bounced away from her. The dice merged at the corner of the table, slowly rolling until it stopped and revealed the next curse.
Your character will fall madly in love with the first person they make eye contact with.
Hootsie’s claws scratched the table, leaving bits of wood shavings. Things went from hilarious fun to looming dread in a matter of seconds. Aunt Twig forced out a chuckle, patting her niece’s feathers with a weary smile. “Hey, maybe if we don’t say anything, then it won’t happen? That’s how Frost’s curse activated.”
Aunt Twig had a good point. They could re-roll Uncle Gideon’s dice or not roll his dice at all if it’ll prevent any more controversial curses. However, the table abruptly shook, and Hootsie felt some sort of force pry her beak open. Her paws clamped onto her beak, but the table’s shaking intensified, making her loosen her grip, and suddenly she hooted at the crystal ball, repeating the curse.
“Hoooot!” The shaking stopped. Her face became loose enough to facepalm onto the table with a groan.
So much for having full control.
“We’re not doomed yet!” Twig quickly assured, grabbing Gideon's figurine. “We can force him to look at someone else first. We’re still in charge, and we can make him do that.”
“Hoot?” Hootsie perked up at the suggestion. That didn’t sound like a bad idea. It’d have to be Klutzy or one of the townsfolk since Uncle Kremy’s in the castle, and it wouldn’t make sense to make him pop out of nowhere. But Papa Frost’s figurine moved about on its own, stopping near the next corner Uncle Gideon was approaching. “Hoot, hoot!”
“I’m trying…Urgh, he’s playing hard to get!” Aunt Twig pulled on the figurine, but it dragged her across the map while the map showed him struggling not to look at Klutzy. Hootsie leaned in and grabbed Papa Frost’s figurine to drag it back home, but it remained glued to the spot no matter how much she yanked and pulled. They heard Frost finishing his verse with the townsfolk singing right after, and Gideon’s statue made a hard turn.
“Whoa!” Aunt Twig lost her grip and toppled onto the floor. Hootsie peeked over the table and watched the brownie get up and fly back up with a pout. “This is rigged!”
“He’s the lucky one I’m going to marry.”
Uh oh…Hootsie couldn’t fully comprehend what she just heard when a card with Uncle Gideon’s character popped out of the crystal ball. Neither of them moved to reach for it. The crystal ball spat it out like it had gone bad as it landed on the table surface, where they read what was written.
‘Gideon: the strongest and most handsome man in the village. Though not the brightest, he is still admired by all the humanoids for his hunting prowess, brute strength, and dashing physique. Every maiden wants to be with him, but his eyes are set on having Frosty be his devoted spouse. He would stop at nothing to win Frosty’s hand in marriage. Even kill the most grotesque of beasts or die trying.’
“Did that say he’ll kill a beast for Frost?”
“Hoooot.” The odds of that character succeeding were slim to none. Papa Torbek would be fine. But chances of Uncle Gideon meeting a rather unfortunate end that’ll drag the genasi back to his sleep-like, cursed coma were higher than his height. Sure, she was fairly confident that Uncle Kremy wouldn’t do anything against her or Aunt Twig in retaliation. He’s softer on them in his own special way. But her papas weren’t immune, and she preferred them being alive at least until she goes to the owlbear equivalent of college.
Uncle Gideon’s lines snapped her out of her thoughts.
Right from the moment when I met him, saw him!
I said he’s gorgeous, and I fell!
Hootsie stared at the crystal ball again, feeling breakfast, lunch, and dinner churning at the pit of her stomach at how allured and smitten Uncle Gid was towards one of her papas. He combed his mane back and puffed up his chest to look big and stunning. All the while, Papa Frost glanced back, almost relieved to find someone somewhat familiar until he blanched at the genasi-turned-lion tabaxi’s next lines.
Here in town, there’s only he
Who is as beautiful as me,
So I’ll be making plans to woo and marry Frosty!
Eyes widened, Papa Frost stuck his face into his book and sped walked in the opposite direction. That didn’t stop Uncle Gideon from practically sprinting after him, proclaiming his desire for Frost. Hootsie scanned the table and found a small vial of ink in the corner. She plucked one of her feathers off, dipping the tip into the vial. Hopefully, this will work. She quickly doodled a bunch of stick figures blocking Uncle Gideon’s path from Papa Frost. Crowds of townsfolk emerged, setting up a market and singing random lines at once, blocking Uncle Gideon from getting closer.
“Hoooot,” Hootsie sighed, dropping the inked feather as it dispersed into golden dust once it hit the table. That should keep Uncle Gideon distracted long enough for Papa Frost to leave the village. Maybe his character’s arc could end with just him punching crowds of clowns for the rest of his life. She could draw a decent clown if she wanted to- Oh, come on!
Uncle Gideon’s figurine trembled and then jumped over her doodles, shuffling along a side path to catch up to Papa Frost. The doodles faded away in an instant. In the crystal ball’s viewing, he climbed one of the houses and jumped from one roof to another! The crowds, however, didn’t disappear. Instead, they gathered behind Frost and sang their last lines.
He doesn’t quite fit in,
‘Cause he really is a funny boy,
A beauty but a funny boy,
He really is a funny boy, that Frosty!
When Papa Frost looked back, the crowd had dispersed to their own businesses. He sighed in relief when he saw no sign of Uncle Gideon and continued his way out of the village. But he barely walked two steps when Uncle Gideon landed in front of him, calling out in a high-pitched, smitten tone.
“Bonjour Frosty! Lovely day for a stroll, isn’t it?”
“Gideon,” Papa Frost politely greeted, stepping aside to leave. However, Gideon slid over and blocked each attempt to leave, making Frost’s tail twitch.
“Now, now, what’s the hurry?” Uncle Gideon snatched the book from the tabaxi’s hand and held it above him. “You can’t possibly be too distracted by this to not pay attention to me.”
He tossed the book aside and gestured to his muscles.“Beautiful creatures such as ourselves shouldn’t squander our opportunities.”
“Urgh, I can’t watch.” Aunt Twig groaned, faceplanting onto the map. “I don’t wanna see this anymore!”
“Hooot!” Hootsie agreed, ready to cover her eyes until she noticed dull fog surrounding the current image in the crystal ball. Papa Frost and Uncle Gideon didn’t notice or acknowledge those clouds. Their voices faded into a distant echo, and within seconds, it covered everything. At the same time, her papa’s figurine fell onto its back. After another three seconds and a quick flash, the fog dispersed into a projection of a messy basement.
Aunt Twig gasped in awe at the scene change, faceplanting her face into the ball to get a closer view. There were piles of firewood, rags, gears, building tools, and detailed blueprints scattered about. Stacks of dusty books and dirty bowls were on the tables, shelves, chairs, and windowsill, with paper sticking out of them. Then, from the corner of the displayed room, underneath a shelf of haphazardly stacked plates where a chair covered in rags and paper sat, was semi-loud snoring.
Actually, very familiar snoring. Hootsie narrowed her eyes at the sleeping form, noticing another familiar feature: a green pointed nose sticking out from one of the rags. Papa! Yes, of course! What better way to stop unwanted fey-cursed-driven madness than with shenanigans? He wasn’t difficult to wake up, but it required a certain amount of weight to topple onto him. Ah-ha!
A heavy book tittered at the edge of its pile, right above her Papa. Hootsie glared at the crystal ball and chanted in her mind: Fall, fall, fall, fall, fall! “Hooot!”
The book shook and fell, causing an avalanche of books to follow suit. They landed on top of her Papa, whose snore cut off as he screamed and wriggled about in the rags. He tumbled onto the ground with a loud THUMP, groaning from the impact. He sat up and pulled the rags off himself, revealing himself to be his goblin-self but with a bushy mustache and beard.
“Where am I?” he asked himself, rubbing his face until he stiffened. His eyes widened as he jumped up and shouted. “Hootsie!”
He scrambled through the piles, throwing himself at the door. “Don’t worry, sweetie! Papa will find you!”
What? Hootsie shook her head as he pulled at the door. No, no! He had to go into the village and focus on the task at hand!
“Maybe we can whisper to him like how the book did to us?” Twig suggested, backing off the crystal ball to lean forward and whisper to the curve closest to Gricko. “You gotta go to the village and help Frost get away from Gideon.”
Her Papa stopped pulling, stumbling back to look around. Hootsie perked up. Yes, that’s it! She leaned closer and whispered the same command. “Hoot, hoot!”
“Don’t think you can distract me from finding me, daughter!” Papa scolded, looking at the ceiling. “Frosty can handle anything Gideon tries on him. I’m not falling for your tricks, book!”
Stupid Papa, she and Auntie Twig aren’t the feybook! “Hoooot!”
“Nothing else to say, ay?” Gricko nodded to himself. Hootsie sighed. She should’ve known that they’d only get to whisper suggestions and commands. Her papa shrugged. “Then I’ll be going back to doing me own business.” He turned around to the door again while Aunt Twig growled under her breath.
“Okay, mister, you wanna do this the hard way?” She pushed her shelves up and grabbed Gricko’s dice. Her hands made a fist around them, shaking as hard as she could until she tossed them across the table. The dice merged at the second roll, hitting the table’s corner with enough force to make it roll again. It finally stopped right beside Gricko’s figurine, spewing the same message cloud with a new curse.
Twig tilted her head to the side. “What’s a fourth wall?”
[ ] [ ] [ ]
Gricko nearly tripped over the haphazardly placed items scattered around, but he managed to reach the door. No time to ponder about the likelihood of the fey magic causing shenanigans. Should Gideon’s actions harm or inconvenience Frost in any way, then they’ll have a talk about it for sure. If it resulted in the early departure of one Gideon Coal, then he was sure Kremy would eventually move on. And he certainly didn’t have time to admire his mustache and beard that’d make the Chad-est of Chads jealous.
It was rather strange for the feybook to give him commands so early in the tale, and he’d ponder about it some more if it hadn’t taken Hootsie! He turned the knob when the same voice from before whispered into his thoughts.
“You now have the ability to break the fourth wall.”
Oh? So he could talk to the feybook directly now? Well, in that case- “Listen here, you glorified piece of-”
“Gricko, no! Hootsie doesn’t have her earmuffs!”
“That’s a new low, even for you!” Gricko crossed his arms and huffed. “If you think you can pretend to sound like Twig and suddenly care about Hootsie, then that’s just a shame.”
“It’s really us, Twig and Hootsie! The book has us running the show!”
“Alright, then, prove it.” There was no way the feybook could keep track of all their shenanigans. And even if it did, it wouldn’t confidently recite them.“What’s something only you or Hootsie would know?”
Silence filled the air again. He grinned. Checkma-
“Hooooot, hoooot!”
His grin fell. Nevermind.
“What?! That was you, Gricko!?” Twig’s voice gasped with a twinge of rage. “Pigtunia was grounded for two weeks!”
“In my defense…” Gricko held his hands up and gulped. He should’ve believed them from the start. “You all seemed pretty convinced that she and Fat Hog could make such a mess.”
“Kremy was ready to butcher Fat Hog, and you didn’t say anything!”
“Gideon was able to convince him-”
“And their room smelt like Pennsylvania for the rest of the week!”
“Hoot?” Uh-oh! He never told Hootsie about that tidbit!
“Well, Hootsie, it’s like this. When a fire genasi ironically loves a gator, and that gator is steaming mad-”
“NO, NO, NO!” he frantically waved at the ceiling where Twig and Hootsie might be watching. “Hootsie hasn’t learned about the birds and the bees, and she’s too young for the genasis,’ and gators talk!”
“Well, what about the genasis’ and the tabaxis’?”
He choked on the air at the thought of that. “NO!”
“Okay, how ‘bout the bees and the dandelions?”
“How about no mature talks until we’re all adults,” Gricko hid his face behind his hands. “Please, for my sake.”
“Hmm, alright. But I’m hundreds of years old, how am I supposed to know I’m an adult?”
“Why don’t we leave that for Gideon to decide when this is all over?” He recomposed himself, stepping away from the door and asking, “Now are you both somewhere safe? No imminent danger?”
“Hoot, hoot, hoot!” Okay, at least they’re safe- “Hoooot, hoooot!”
“Wolves?” He blinked, feeling his heart skip a beat. “Are you telling me the book sent wolves after you, and you handled it like a big girl?”
“Hooot.”
“Why, that’s just…” Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, don’t freak out… “Very well done, Hootsie indeed! Papa is so proud of you for dealing with those mean wolves!”
The excited cooing helped ease his palpitations as he took a breath in and out. One situation handled, now for the next tasks at hand. “Right, now you were trying to get me to find Frosty?”
“Oh yeah! Well, we’re almost like the gods of the story, but we gotta roll for different curses on all of you, so Frost sings at random, and Gideon fell in love with him-”
“What?! I thought you said he just needed help from him!”
“Nope, Gid’s being very flirty, almost like that one time at the carnival you told me about. So you better hurry, Gideon wants to try to marry Frost!”
“Over my dead body!” Gricko hurriedly opened the door, stepping outside. “You can’t marry Gideon, Frosty! What about Torbek? And what about m- your father!”
He slapped his hands over his mouth. Did he mean to say that? He slowly removed his hands and whispered, “Hello, I’m Gricko, Frosty’s -err- FATHER!” He shouted the last word, covering his mouth again to prevent any more troublesome wording from being unconsciously spoken.
There was the sound of shuffling and whispering from Twig that lasted a good ten seconds when she spoke to him carefully. “Uh, Gricko…Not sure how to break it to you, but I’m just gonna rip the bandaid and tell you that you’re cast as Frosty’s father.”
“WHAT!?”
“Yeah, we got your character card right here, and it says you’re Frosty’s beloved papa who can sometimes be a screw loose. But you love your son very much and only want the best for him. Oh, and the other townsfolk will probably see you as crazy.”
“Are you telling me that in this feytale, me and Frosty are father and son?” Gricko asked. “Meaning that any sort of imp-cation of romantic feelings towards another would be highly inappropriate and just downright horrid?”
“Hoot.”
“Right…Uhm, then…” Gricko fell to his knees, inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Now was not the time to freak out or go through an existential crisis over being a character who couldn’t be with Frost or Torbek. Especially now that he’s an old character who ought to watch out for his blood pressure. “I-I guess Frosty would just be Torbek’s sweetheart for now.”
“If Gideon doesn’t marry him first.”
“Shit, you’re right! Frooosty!” Gricko scrambled up and ran through the set path. He had barely reached the front of the house when he heard the distant sound of dice being rolled and the sounds of gasps from Twig and Hootsie. Surely they’re still alright, right?
“Hoot, hoot.” That’s not good.
“Hootsie?” Gricko slowed his pace, looking up at the sky. “Sweetie, what’s so ‘uh-oh’?”
“Uhm, so the book is being mean again…” Twig said carefully. Okay, it may be concerning, but Gricko held on to the simple, optimistic revelation that his girls are in charge. “It made us roll another curse for you.”
“Oh? Well, that’s not so bad,” he shrugged, releasing a breath of relief. “I’m sure whatever you rolled for me won’t interfere with me finding Frosty.”
“Hoooot, hoot.”
Huh, he’s cursed to be horrible at directions, but believes he’s going the right way? Okay, that may sound a little bad, but the path to the village was right in front of him. It couldn’t be that bad, right? He sprinted ahead and kept his eyes on the path. If he didn’t look away, then surely he’d avoid getting lost. And yet, the path eventually faded into grass, and then into dirt covered with stray leaves. That can’t be right.
Gricko looked up. No village in sight, not even the cottage he ran out of. He stood in the center of a concerningly dim, foggy forest. He gulped and looked up at the sight of dark trees with empty branches and a few crows.
“Hootsie? Twig?” he called out. “I fink I’m a wee bit lost.”
Back in the mysterious room, Twig screamed into her hat. Something about wanting to burn all the dice in the land after this, but Hootsie paid no attention to that. She eyed the map, keeping her beak shut to sway the urge to vomit at how Uncle Gideon’s figurine kept sliding next to Papa Frost’s. She could try cursing either one or both to break the fourth wall, but the odds of getting the same curse weren’t favorable. The risks, unfortunately, outweighed the desired outcomes.
She spotted the bottle of ink and looked down at her feathers. Time for some improved divine intervention.
[ ] [ ] [ ]
“Gideon, you are not yourself,” Frost hissed, wriggling in Gideon’s arms. “And I do not reciprocate your affection toward me.”
“Oh, Frosty,” Gideon chuckled, pulling him closer to lead him into the village. “I always love the ones who play hard to get. Makes the hunt for your love all the more…delicious.”
An icy tingle ran up Frost’s spine while his insides twisted and recoiled. He pulled away, only to be drawn closer to Gideon’s chest. Klutzy chuckled and nudged Gideon’s legs.
“He’s definitely quite the feisty one, huh, Gideon?”
Scratch that, his insides were ready to hurl themselves out and onto the pair. At least Kremy was somewhere else in this feytale and did not have to witness this display. Was Gideon perhaps compelled to act the role of an NPC, like in the previous tales? But he could’ve sworn he saw Gideon with free will in the last two tales. He should probably make sure. “Uh, Gideon? Are you aware of where we are?”
“Course I do, we’re in a feytale trying to break this curse placed on all of us. We’re in your feytale now, trying to get you out,” Gideon replied, a little confused by the question. “Hootsie and Twig are god knows where after that book tricked us, but I think we can get out of this sooner if we just let ourselves be happily in love with each other.”
He twirled Frost around, letting him fall into his arms as he puckered his lips. “I don’t know if it’s your beauty or my devilish charm, but something is telling me that if we get married right now, then we’ll be on our merry way to the next feytale.”
“I don’t believe the original Beauty and the Bullybeast included another suitor.” Frost shoved Gideon’s face away from him and wriggled out of his hold. “I recall this particular feytale included an abundance of siblings for me.”
“Oh, that’s how it's supposed to be, silly, but when your goblin buddy broke the story mirror, all the roles got jumbled up,” Klutzy giggled, honking his red nose. “And now I get to be Mr. Gideon’s best friend!”
Frost wished he could deny Gricko being that careless, but for his daughter and friend’s safety, those actions seemed plausible. The mere mention of being his best friend made Gideon swerve at the clown with a growl, “We’re not best friends, you stupid clown!”
“Right, right, I’m your best man,” Klutzy winked. “You need one for your wedding with Frosty.”
“Oh, uhm, I guess I need a best man now that-Uhh...” Gideon scanned his surroundings, frowning at the sight of NPCs walking about. “Actually, where do you think Kremy might be? I’d rather have him be my best man right now.”
“Ha! Gideon, you joker, Kremy’s not here.” Klutzy laughed and shook his finger. “If you find him now, you won’t marry Frosty, and if you fail, then I get to leave clown hell! The book promised me that.”
Frost rolled his eyes. He couldn’t fully doubt the book’s ability to revive dead clowns, but he knew that Klutzy aimed to ensure they failed by trying to get him to marry Gideon. Surely Gideon wouldn’t fall-
“Well, you heard ‘em, Frosty,” Gideon grabbed hold of his hand. “We can’t have that stupid clown come back to life.”
Then again, fey curses were a bitch to overcome. Frost sighed, using his free hand to facepalm. Anyone, he didn’t care who, just anybody better intervene!
“NEEIGH!”
A pony’s cry caught everyone’s attention as they looked up in the direction it came from. Frost immediately recognized the pony when he saw the small house on its back. Obud’s pony! It reached the group, panting, panicked neighs as it head-butted Frost.
“Neiggh! Neigggh!”
“It’s okay, there’s no need to be frightened.” Frost stroked its mane and asked in a hushed tone. “Is there something troubling you?”
The pony huffed, lifting its head and pointing to the path back to Frost’s cottage.
“Something happened at home?”
“NEIGH!”
“Oh-ho, Grimgrin’s pony got loose again!” Klutzy suddenly giggled and nudged Gideon’s leg. “Bet that goblin got lost in the forest again.”
“Grimgrin?”
“Your father, Frosty,” Klutzy wheezed, clutching his stomach from all the giggling. Frost felt his face grimace at the thought. Gricko joked about being a ‘Daddy’, but this was too far. “It’s hard to believe a crazy old coot like him is the father of such a beautiful, yet odd creature such as your-GAHHH!”
A red flash swung at Klutzy’s face, sending the clown across the town and into a cart of barrels. Gideon huffed and yelled, “Don’t you talk about my darling Frosty’s father that way!”
Well, at least that clown finally shut up. Gideon turned around with a cocky grin. “Shall we go find your father, Frosty?”
“Oh, no, no, that’s too kind,” Frost shook his head, patting the pony’s back to make it go on ahead. “I will be just fine on my own. The feytale dictates that I must go on my own to retrieve my…uh…father. Surely, you have more game to hunt.”
“Nonsense, Frosty,” Gideon strode over and grabbed the pony’s reins. “If we want to complete this feytale, then we gotta go against the plot. And what kind of lover would I be if I let you go into the dark woods by yourself?”
Damn. He had a good point- About going against the plot, not the lover bit! With a heavy groan, Frost gestured to the larger tabaxi to go ahead. “Fine. Fine! You can come with me, but if you keep flirting with me, then I’m leaving you behind!”
“Aw, Frosty, you wound me. But worry not, my future husband, I will be on my best behavior for you, my beloved.”
“Please stop calling me that.”
[ ] [ ] [ ]
Hootsie and Twig stared at the crystal ball, glancing at each other to process what they had just witnessed. Her improv beak-drawn pony played its role very well as the one to guide Papa Frost to her Papa. She just didn’t expect Uncle Gideon to be conscious enough to stir the plot against the feybook while actively playing against their attempt for a happily ever after. And judging by the direction her Papa’s figurine went, they’ll eventually make their way to the castle where Papa Torbek and Uncle Kremy were.
“Hoooot.” Maybe Papa Torbek would be more cooperative. If she knew her papas well, if Papa Frost was Beauty, then Papa Torbek surely took the role of the Grob-Beast. The image of Uncle Gideon and Papa Frost following Obud’s pony faded into the projection of an old stone castle covered with snow and dark, stormy clouds.
Inside the room of one of the grander towers, Torbek gasped awake at the sudden thunderous BOOM followed by a flash of lightning. He kicked his feet around, unable to feel his arms at all as they tangled him in the tattered blankets. The squirming made him fall off, landing on his head as he blinked and groaned through the pain.
His vision was fuzzy, making out how ridiculously large his feet became. As his vision cleared, he noticed how there was no fur present, and his feet were, in fact, large with no additional toes. They looked like smooth, inflated clown shoes! He tried to reach to feel them, but his whole torso moved instead. One side glance confirmed that he lacked arms!
“ARGGHH!”
He hopped up, moving in a stylish jig as his torso moved side to side to test if his eyes were just playing tricks on him. Nope.
“WHAT HAPPENED TO TORBEK!”
The sound of doors swung open behind him, with a pair of familiar- but definitely not any of his friends- voices calling out to him with concern.
“Master Torbek, calm yourself! All is well.”
“Steady yourself, Torbek, waking up in a new feytale is always unsettling.”
What? NPCs shouldn’t know about waking up in a feytale. Or feytales in general. Torbek turned around, looking frantically until his gaze landed on the ground, where a silver stopwatch and a golden candelabra shaped like a weather vane stared up at him. “Mr.Witch? Mr. Light?”
“Torbek, it is certainly a surprise to see you here,” The stopwatch, Mr. Witch, smiled. “By any chance did one of your party members insult a feybook?”
“Not on purpose,” Torbek groaned, a little nervous around the pair. “Torbek doesn’t understand. Did you get sucked into the curse, too? Does Torbek have to wake you both up?”
“No, no, our physical selves are still awake and safe back at the carnival,” Mr. Light, the candelabra assured. “Feybooks can conjure a copy of our consciousness, and of other folks you’ve met in your travels, to exist for as long as the feytale permits. It does not affect the original being; they’re not even aware of your current predicament or that there’s a copy of them.”
“That sounds like a violation of so many laws of morality .”
“A feybook operates much like the Feywild,” Mr. Witch sighed. “But you are in luck. The book loosened its hold on most of us NPCs in hopes that we’d rise against you.”
“You guys aren’t going to rise against Torbek, are you?”
“Not Mr. Witch, but I cannot say the same for myself,” Mr. Light pouted, crossing the two ends of his makeshift arms. “I wanted to be the beast that dear Frost falls in love with. We could’ve relived our marvelous time in my wagon.”
Torbek chose to ignore that bit for the sake of what little sanity he liked to believe he had. At least Hootsie wasn’t here to hear that. Wait-His eyes widened. Hootsie! “Mr. Witch! Mr. Light. Did you see Torbek’s daughter and friend around?”
“I would’ve never guessed you had a daughter. Let alone be near a child.”
“No, no, Mr. Light, Gricko’s daughter Hootsie,” Torbek clarified, feeling a flush of heat across his face. “Torbek only recently became her third papa. But the book took her and Twig away before the rest of us could go in. Have you seen them anywhere?”
“Well, congratulations on being promoted,” Mr. Witch nodded and pursed his lips in thought. “As for their whereabouts, if I had to guess based on tales from previously cursed folks, if someone entered a feytale before the rest, then they are most likely not in this tale.”
“WHAT?!”
“Now, now, it sounds horrifying, but I assure you that your daughter and friend are safe. It’s more likely that they’re put in charge of what goes on in this feytale.”
Torbek blinked. “Did they ascend to godhood?”
“Not the phrase I’d used but-”
“HOOTSIE! TWIG!” Torbek called out to the ceiling. “TORBEK WILL DO HIS BEST TO GET THROUGH THIS FEYTALE! TORBEK KNOWS YOU’RE DOING A GREAT JOB AS THE NEW GODS OF THIS PLANE!”
He stared back down at Mr. Witch and Mr. Light. “You guys don’t happen to know what sort of Bullybeast Torbek became, do you?”
The watch and candle frowned, exchanged glances, and gestured to the exit. Mr. Witch spoke in the sort of tone one would speak to an unpredictable animal. “Perhaps it’s best if you take a look for yourself.”
“Not to worry,” Mr. Light piped in with a careful grin. “I believe one of your friends took up the role of a wardrobe with a mirror. A one Mr. Lecroux, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Kremy!” Torbek attempted to run forward, but instead, his feet hopped side to side at a fast pace.
At least his freakishly large feet kept his balance, even adding a little jig with every hop. Maybe his face wouldn’t look so bad. Sure, he knew Gricko and Frost loved him no matter what form he took, and he was working on his self-confidence, but if this form somehow made him look more handsome than his previous form, then he’d be happy. He vaguely recalled overhearing pixies fawn over the bullybeast when they mentioned this feytale being adapted into a motion picture projection during his dumpster days.
“Your friend’s in the first guest room in the east wing!” He heard Mr. Witch call out as he hurried down the hall until he found the aforementioned room. Despite the worn-down, dusty, and cobwebbed state of his own room, the rest of the palace looked clean and well-kept.
He eagerly swung the door open to a cozy room with a large plush bed, velvet green curtains, and a polished, purple and gold wardrobe beside the bed. “Kremy! Is that you?”
“Wha-Who goes there?” The wardrobe jolted, its gray eyes opening from the top as it scanned the room, widening at the sight of Torbek. Kremy quickly bowed to him. “Master, I didn’t realize you had awakened! Tell me, what do you seek?”
“Kremy called Torbek, M-Master?” Torbek blushed, feeling a little sweaty.
“Why yes, you’re the prince,” Kremy confirmed, unfazed by Torbek’s sudden bashfulness. “That means you’re the master of this castle and of all who are employed under your rule.”
Now Torbek loved Gricko and Frosty, don’t get him wrong. His previous admiration, possible crush for Kremy, has long since extinguished. He only felt a friendship towards the gatorfolk. But hearing him called "Master" sparked something in him. Nothing perverted, no! Torberk’s not a pervert! He just couldn’t put into words what feelings it sparked. Definitely not love, and absolutely not affection.
“Master?”
Torbek bit his lip to calm himself down. “Uhh, uhm, yes?”
“You came for me-”
“TORBEK DIDN’T!” Torbek closed his eyes and shook his head. Being called Master didn’t stir anything. Nope, nothing of the sort! “Torbek’s not a pervert, Torbek swears!”
“Master-”
“Please, for Torbek’s sake, stop calling Torbek that!” It was better that way. Gods know what Kremy would do to him once they break the curse. Hell, he didn’t even want to think what Gideon would do if he ever found out! Better to quit while he’s still ahead. “Just call Torbek, Torbek!”
Luckily, Kremy simply nodded. “As you wish, Torbek. Now, tell me what you sought from me. I only aim to please.”
Torbek groaned, forcing himself to forget that last phrase, and sighed. “Torbek would like to see himself in the mirror, please.”
“Are you sure?” Kremy frowned, slowly taking a few steps back. “You’re not particularly fond of your current appearance.”
“Torbek can handle it.”
“Very well.” Kremy opened the right door, where a large mirror was attached to the back of it. After adjusting it, he nodded for Torbek to step forward.
The mirror reflected a beady-eyed, two-dimensional creature that looked like a goblinoid. But he had a large overbite with his fangs sticking out, and his skin was the color of his fur, which is nowhere in sight. As he suspected, he had no arms, just ridiculously enormous feet. He wasn’t sure what sort of creature he was, not any that he had ever encountered. Maybe the others would know.
“Oh, my God!” Torbek shrieked, “Torbek didn’t think Torbek would look worse than he had!”
“That is the idea of your curse,” Kremy sighed, closing his door. “A hag wanted your hand in marriage, but you refused, and so she cursed you to become a Grob-Beast. We’re all cursed to remain our current forms until-”
“Until Torbek’s true love loves him in return.” Alright, it wasn’t so bad. Torbek knew Frost was the main character and in the feytale, Beauty eventually fell in love with the Bullybeast. Frost was smart, and he’ll be conscious when they see each other, so he had nothing to be too worried about.
The sound of rolled dice echoed behind his mind, followed by an echoey voice that sounded like Twig.
“Oh no…Sorry, but you will now speak only in lies.”
“Master!” A feather duster cried out from the door. “There’s a trespasser in the castle! I believe it’s a goblinoid.”
Gricko! Perfect.
“Torbek’s not pleased to hear that.” He blinked twice as Kremy shuffled away. Oh no. “Torbek definitely likes where this is going.”