Merchant Crab

The enchantress stood in the doorway, the scarlet vestments she wore like a fiery beacon against the dark frame behind her. She held her hands together, hidden inside the large sleeves of her robe, while observing the crab with great interest and a discreet smile.

“Wow, you live here?” exclaimed Balthazar. “This place looks like a dump!”

The merchant’s bluntness did not seem to faze her.

“Ah, still a charmer as always, I see,” said Ruby. “Looks can be deceiving, as I’m sure you know. Shall we go inside?”

“If it will look less depressing than out here, sure.”

As the crab took a step forward, Rye placed a hand on his arm.

“Balthazar,” he said with a whisper. “What are we doing here? This could be a trap for all we know.”

“You’re worrying too much, Rye,” the crustacean whispered back. “I get why, even if you don’t. If you’d prefer to stay out here, that’s fine, but I’m going in to get some answers.”

The young man hesitated for a moment, as if struggling with his answer.

“No,” he finally said, with strain on his face. “If I thought it was dangerous but let you go in while I stayed out here and then something happened, I’d never be able to look Madeleine in the eye again. I still don’t like it, though.”

Balthazar nodded. “If it will make you feel any better, I’ll tell Druma and Blue to keep watch out here, that way we got backup to get us out if something were to happen.”

After the exchange, the crab and the archer finally stepped into the old building, led by Ruby and followed by Jasper.

It did not look much different inside than it did outside. Dark and dusty, no lighting other than what little light poured in through the broken windows, revealing rooms with missing floorboards and torn curtains. That anyone would live in such a place surprised even a pond-dwelling crustacean.

“Sheesh, you live like this?” Balthazar said, as the four of them entered a living room in a worse state than his bazaar after a mad dark mage passed through it.

“Certainly not,” said the woman. “I told you, looks can be deceiving, and we very much like it that way. Jasper, if you will, please?”

With a nod, the dark-skinned traveler faded into a shadowy corner of the room, and after a second, they heard the sound of something heavy being pulled. He reappeared and pressed the tip of his foot onto a loose floorboard, following it up with a press of his hand against a section of a nearby shelf. There was a whirring sound of gears moving and then a click.

Walking to the center of the room, Jasper pushed a torn sofa aside and pulled back the tattered carpet beneath it, revealing a hatch.

“Ladies first,” he said, smiling at the enchantress while holding the hatch door open with one hand and offering her the other.

Holding his hand for support, Ruby descended the few steps leading into a tight tunnel.

Balthazar peeked down the hatch tentatively. “Ehhh, I don’t do very well with stairs.”

“Oh,” said the redheaded adventurer. “Perhaps this would help?”

With a quick clap of her hands, the stone steps rotated with a loud thump, turning into a ramp.

“Huh, neat trick,” said the crab, as he followed into the tunnel.

The walls and floor were made of stone, but they were visibly cleaner than anything above. Unlike the previous room, which was dark and hard to see in, this tunnel had lit lanterns hanging from the ceiling, leading all the way to the other end of it, where a pristine iron door was.

“Is your upstairs maid on holiday?” said Balthazar, while carefully moving through the corridor, the sides of his shell nearly scraping against the narrow walls.

“Unfortunately,” said Ruby, “keeping up with surrounding appearances is a necessity, if we are to maintain a low-profile. It’s part of the job.”

“Right, and what job would that be?” the crab asked.

The woman stopped in front of the thick iron door. Pulling one hand from her sleeve, she produced a large golden key and inserted it into the keyhole. Letting go of it, the enchantress waited while the key turned on its own and unlocked the door, which blew a gust of wind onto the group as it opened.

“Our job is to observe and learn what we are not supposed to,” said the scarlet lady as she stepped through the door and held it open for her guests. “Welcome to the Birdwatchers headquarters.”

Balthazar’s eyestalks stood up as he walked into the room. Well-lit and spotless, the hidden basement looked nothing like the house above it. There was furniture of the finest wood, with a glossy and immaculate varnish finish. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, with golden details over their brass structures. Most of the walls were covered in exquisite tapestries, and the floors in equally impressive carpets that made the crab feel like he should take off his shoes before entering, despite never having worn any before.

The merchant let out a whistle. “Nice place you got here. Can’t help but notice a distinct lack of birds, though. Not that I mind, of course.”

Ruby smirked at the crab’s quip. “We like to keep the subjects of our watching at a distance. For safety, and to not disturb their natural behavior.”

“Still, that’s kind of a lame name for a secret society of… whatever you guys are.”

“Yes, unlike ‘The Pie Council’, I suppose,” the enchantress said with subtle irony as she turned around.

The crab looked around awkwardly. “Yeah, well, that was just… hey, wait a minute, how would you know about that?!”

Jasper shut the door behind them as he stepped through, causing the two visitors to jump in place.

“I imagine you must have many questions,” the adventurer in red said. “As do we. That is the reason we are all here. Please, come, let us sit down and talk.”

She led them to a different section of the large hall, with a low table and a few seats around it. As she moved around to her chair, she pulled a pair of round reading glasses from the inside of her robe and put them on, like someone preparing to read a book.

“May I offer you anything?” said the woman as she sat down on a cushioned chair. “Something to drink, perhaps tea? Something to eat as well? You must be famished after such a trek.”

“Thanks, but what we really want to know—” Rye started.

“Amber, dear,” the enchantress called towards a nearby doorway. “Are the pies ready yet?”

“Shush, Rye,” Balthazar said quickly, waving a claw in front of the archer while sitting down on a low stool by the table. “Did you just say pies?”

A short-haired girl walked into the room, wearing the same attire one would expect from any adventurer, except with a white apron on top as well.

“Hello,” Amber said in a shy manner while bowing gently. “The pies are ready, Madame Ruby. Should I bring them out?”

“You should ask our guest,” the woman in the chair said before looking at Balthazar again. “Knowing your love for baked goods, I had our dear Amber here try her hand at preparing some delicacies for your enjoyment. She is by no means a proper baker like your friend from Ardville, but as you could probably notice outside, we are rather limited in terms of nearby bakeries, so she tried her best.”

“Right,” the slightly nervous girl said, turning to the crab. “I wasn’t sure which one would be to your preference, so I tried baking four different types of pie. An apple pie, a pumpkin pie, as well as one lemon cream pie and a strawberry pie. Can I serve you any of them?”

Balthazar stared at the shy adventurer, unblinking.

“Yes,” he said in a dry and quick tone.

Amber’s eyes darted between him and her superior. “Y-yes to which one?”

“All of them,” the deadpan crab said. “Obviously.”

“Oh,” the girl said quietly, glancing at Ruby as if looking for instructions on how to proceed.

The enchantress gave her a gentle nod and the young adventurer retreated back to where she had come from.

“Don’t take me for a fool, Ruby,” said Balthazar. “I know when someone is trying to win me over, and I’m telling you, this won’t stop me from wanting some answers…” His words trailed off as Amber returned, pushing a small trolley with several plates on it. “...after a quick snack break.”

Four different miniature pies came strolling into his sight. One by one, the girl moved each plate from the cart and onto the table, under the crab’s attentive gaze. They were not quite as perfectly shaped as Madeleine’s, the crust was visibly uneven in places, and overall much rougher-looking, clearly the work of a novice baker, but that did little to stop Balthazar’s mouthwatering.

“They’re not very good, but I… I hope you will enjoy them,” said Amber, her eyes glued to the floor.

Balthazar started with a generous bite of apple pie.

“A bit crumbly,” the crab said with a mouthful. “The middle area is a little undercooked, too. The apple slices are slightly too thick as well.”

The girl’s eyebrows arched into an expression that resembled a lost puppy. “Oh…”

“But all free pie is good pie!” the hungry crustacean added, shoving the rest of it into his mouth unceremoniously.

The apprentice baker perked up slightly. “Oh!”

Rye shoved an elbow against Balthazar’s side and muttered under his breath. “I thought we were supposed to be looking for Madeleine, not looking for her replacement.”

“Right, ahem, right!” said the crab, between coughs and a slight choking fit, thanks to the boy’s shove. “We should get down to business, Ruby.”

“Of course,” the lady in red said, leaning back comfortably on the scarlet cushions of her golden throne-like chair and giving the girl in the apron another nod.

“Can I get you anything?” Amber asked Rye.

“No, I’m… fine,” the young man said dismissively.

“Please, at least have a cup of tea, for hospitality’s sake,” said Ruby.

“Fine,” the annoyed adventurer said. “Just a cup.”

Amber disappeared back into the presumed kitchen, while Ruby placed her hands together in front of her face, connected at the fingertips, peering at the crab through her red-tinted lenses.

“Where shall we start?”

“How about…” Balthazar started, while struggling to gulp down a generous bite of pumpkin pie. “How about you start by telling me who in the world you all are and what you’re doing here?”

“A pertinent question,” said the experienced adventurer. “We are a group of people who have become aware of the machinations of the system in this world, and that there are things being kept hidden from almost everyone, be it adventurer or local. We seek to uncover the truth.” She paused and looked at the archer for a moment. “If you mean who we are as in us, adventurers in general, and what we are doing or where we came from, then I’m afraid I have no conclusive answer for you, but that is also part of what we seek to find out.”

“That was a lot of words to say very little,” said the merchant, while nibbling on a bit of pie crust.

“I’m sorry, but shouldn’t we be talking about the big red dragon that took Madeleine instead?” Rye exclaimed, standing up in a sudden outburst.

“Woah, easy, buddy,” Balthazar said. “I’m getting there. Please calm down.”

“T-tea?” Amber hesitantly said, arriving next to the table with a smoking cup in her hands.

“Please, sit down,” the calm enchantress said. “Have some tea. I promise all will be clear soon.”

Exhaling sharply, Rye obliged, sitting back down and taking the cup into his hands.

“How about you explain that, huh?” the crab said, with his mouth covered in lemon cream. “Why is it that whenever the subject is anything to do with the system or where they came from, every other adventurer seems to get all touchy and averse to it, and then immediately forgets all about it, unlike you?”

Ruby nodded.

“Indeed. The system, and whatever is behind it, does not want us asking inconvenient questions, or digging for answers. The way it seems to prevent this is by creating a selective blank spot in an adventurer’s mind. Upon arriving into this world, something is done to us, to our brains, to block out the memories of our previous life, and most importantly, also block out the sense of what was lost, so that we never even realize a piece of us is missing. Like a mist pulled over our—”

“...eyes,” said Balthazar, cleaning the cream around his mouth. “I’ve seen it. At Star Beach, when some kid arrived, there was this moment where his eyes went foggy, and after that, he no longer seemed to remember or care about anything that happened before.”

“Exactly,” the enchantress said, the golden frame of her glasses reflecting brightly as she leaned forward on her chair and into the light of the lantern above them. “Someone, or something, works very hard to prevent us from remembering how we got here and from asking why we are here, and that’s what the Birdwatchers are about. We want to know the truth, to know what’s really going on, at all costs.”

Balthazar paused, looking up at the light and thinking.

“So wait, how come you guys seem to remember stuff and be able to ask these questions unhindered by that ‘mind fog’ thing?”

A sudden shattering sound startled the crab, making him jump on his stool.

Rye had dropped his teacup, which shattered to pieces on the floor.

“Are you alri—” the worried crustacean started, but before he could finish, the young man dropped from his seat and onto his knees, curling up as he clutched his stomach, grunting in pain.

Balthazar’s eyes darted between his friend and the shattered cup as he jumped off the stool.

“What have you done?!” he yelled at Ruby. “You poisoned him!”

The scarlet enchantress calmly stood up from her throne and placed her hands together inside her sleeves.

“No, we did not poison him. Look closer.”

The crab turned to his friend as he arched back, clutching his head with both hands.

Suddenly, Rye’s yells of pain ceased, and a milky white fog washed over his eyes.