Songbird

One

Sparrow awoke that morning to the sound of rain poking at the roof. The sky was a soft gray, and it was sprinkling a happy sort of rain outside. She carefully slipped on her favourite dress, her cloak, and her flats, the leather molded to her feet. She hummed an old lullaby as she tried half-heartedly to comb down her wild black hair that just fluffed back up again as if it had a mind of its own. She slipped gloves over the rash on her fingers that never itched but always lingered. A wicker basket sat by the door, a cloth pouch of coins laying next to it. She gathered both along with a small brass key hanging on the wall. She used it to lock the door behind her as she set off for her errands.

An autumn breeze played with her hair. She wandered down the path to the village, droplets from the sky falling through the leaves of the birch and kissing her on the forehead. She lived in the woods surrounding the village, but not too far off.

She still considered herself a villager.

She waltzed through the village gates, and into the bakery. Basil, her tiny tengu faerie companion poked his head out of her basket.

"What are you doing here?!" she half giggle-half whispered to him. "You know Mr. Kanta doesn't like sprigs his shop!"

"Oh, I'm sure it will be fine," Basil replied in a cool voice. "He likes you." 

Mr. Kanta greeted her from behind his counter. He towered over them like a giant with his arms crossed.

"On second thought, maybe I'll stay in here for safe measures," he gulped as he dove back into her basket.

"Ah, Songbird!" Mr. Kanta smiled from behind his bushy nest of a beard. "What can I get for you today?"

They talked as he gathered her things. She told him about how Basil had been up to mischief again, this time using her toothbrush to scrub his little doorway into the cottage. Mr. Kanta chuckled. 

"That's why they're not allowed in my bakery," he explained. "Too much for me to handle."

Basil let out a nervous hiccup from his hiding spot in her basket.

 She gathered her buyings and a small cup of hot cocoa over the counter. She sat by the window and watched the raindrops fall lazily into a puddle. After there was nothing left in her cup, she waved goodbye to Mr. Kanta and set off to buy some soap and maybe a new toothbrush.

Basil climbed up out of her basket and flew onto her shoulder. "It was rather stuffy in there," he said to her as he ruffled his tiny feathers.

On her way to the next shop, she passed a crowd listening to a man in a funny red suit. "They come tonight," she heard the man say, "so pack your bags." She stopped to listen.

"Who is coming?" she whispered to the village barber.

"The castle keepers from Grindlewink."

"The what?" she wondered aloud. The man's voice bellowed over the crowd.

"Pack your bags with anything of value to you because they don't like to be kept waiting. Anything that is not packed will not be going with you. Girls the age of twelve best be ready by midnight."

Sparrow didn't think anything of it. She was the only girl of age in the village, but she was by no means a princess. Yet still, that night she packed a trunk just in case. In it there was her pouch of gold, her journal (a gift from one of the villagers), her cloak, her gloves, and a couple dresses.

She hummed herself to sleep, with Basil snoozing in his little nest on her bedside table.

She was woken by a thud on the floor. Basil shot up straight away, and flew into Sparrows bed. "What was that?" he whispered.

Was this them? The castle keepers that the funny man was talking about? She heard knocks like thunder banging on her door. She lit her lamp and peered outside.

Two towering figures with eyes as blue as the sky and silver hair covering their arms and faces. One held a large mirror that glowed purple, illuminating the entire room. "Yetis?" she whispered to herself.

One of them spoke in a gruff voice, almost like bark being peeled off of a tree. "Are you ready, Princess?"

Before she could answer, she was swept off her feet and thrown into the mirror.