Granny Trudy had a normal day until she was kidnapped for a quest

By all accounts, being seconds away from getting devoured by an ancient cosmic horror is the worst time to reminisce. Naturally, wizard Munck picked this moment.

He tried to turn his head to the woman next to him as they hung suspended in the air and decided his last words should be gracious. “All the way from the bakery to here, I never dreamed of having such adventures. And if I had known for one second how it’s going to end I’d have stayed in my dorm room!”

Trudy, on her end, had finally worked the rheumatism ointment into her knuckles. “Ah, shut up. And duck!”

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Pudding tarts were in high demand that day. Ermentrude lifted another tray, stepped smartly over Winny the three-year-old and parried Herby the five-year-old’s slingshot aim, and filled the display only to see its contents vanish within minutes of the next throng of customers arriving. Nothing like the spring fair to drum up business.

Outside, carts rumpled past, riders steered their horses through the throng of visitors. The canals must be full of boats by now. She could hear a band of travelling musicians getting the crowd into the festival spirit at the near marketplace.

The sweet tunes were immediately drowned out by a cacophony from the bakery. Ermentrude sighed, called for the apprentice to manage the sales, and followed the melodic cursing of her eldest daughter Vibeke.

“The oven door again, is it?” Trudy said.

“I don’t know why it keeps getting stuck.”

“Move aside. The maestro approaches the podium!”

With a quick move that no one in the family ever managed to replicate, Trudy punched the door with a closed fist, just once, in the right spot. The door opened immediately.

“We need to have someone come in and fix it again,” her daughter said, rescuing trays of potato cakes. “How’s the hand?”

“Peachy. Now, we’re going to need more of the pudding tarts, they’re selling like… like pudding tarts. And where is your brother? He’s supposed to be out in the shop.”

Trudy smoothed her hair under her coif and thundered away to wrangle a new batch of customers that threatened to overwhelm apprentice Timothy. She’d never thought they would have to hire an apprentice at all, but business had been going so well over the years, her sons now even talked about opening a second shop.

She was just handing out prune pastries to a couple of elderly ladies when her son-in-law entered. The three- and five-year-old ran by her just then and made her drop the change. “Steffen! Kindly corral your children and then take over the counter, will you?” she called over the head of a gangly youth, all knees and elbows, who was dresses in a sort of shabby robe and hat, some silly pubescent fashion no doubt.

“Sure, ma,” Steffen, used to being bossed by the matriarch, went to collect the grandchildren, and took them upstairs.

Trudy turned back to the gangly boy. “Now, you wanted two raspberry tarts and a sausage bun, right, dear?”

The oddly clad young man nodded, and Trudy bagged the goods for him. “Say, good crone” – Trudy scoffed internally – “is there a wizard in town? I heard there was one by name of, uh… Gotobed?”

“Oh, yes. Mr Gotobed retired a few years ago, but you can call on Merunas, he's moved in now.” Fond of the cinnamon buns, she knew, a little too fond, went right to the robes, which kept the seamstress on Newland Road in bread and butter, or more precisely in strawberry pies. “Has a shop on Halfbury Place. Are you looking to go into the magic trade, then?”

“Oh no, ma’am, I’m already in it.” The young man indicated his pointy hat.

“Well, Merunas is usually in after lunchtime. I’m sure he needs an apprentice. You have a nice day.”

“Thanks, ma’am.”

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Wizard Munck was not having a nice day. The way to Halfbury Place took a half hour longer what with fair visitors being in the way, and some stray dogs had chased him for his sausage bun. When he finally rang wizard Merunas’ doorbell, he looked …

“Like you’ve been using a levitation spell in the middle of migrating geese!” Merunas waved the youth over the doorstep and into the study.

“Pardon my state of dress, master Merunas,” Munck limped across the carpet. “Care for a raspberry tart?”

“Oh, always.” The older wizard, who had a good fifty years on Munck, settled down into an armchair in front of the fireplace. Munck tried to get comfortable in the other one but was distracted by a stuffed Wolpertinger that stared at him with mad red eyes. He leaned casually to the other side and was now the centre of attention of a collection of aggressive purple snakes in a display cage.

“Now, what brings you here?” Merunas continued, brushing crumbs out of his beard while he made the pot pour out tea for his guest.

“Well, as you know, I’m sure, my master, Balgimantas, passed away recently and left his work to me. He said you worked on the same, uh, case. It, uh, concerns… you know.”

“What, the pink house on Pleasant Avenue?” Merunas wriggled thick grey eyebrows. “Well, well, I heard Balgimantas was quite a hero there when he was questing in his youth…”

Munck’s entire face coloured red enough to spark interest in the snakes again. “No, no, uh…” He pulled the enormous bundle of paper out of his bag. “It’s the prophecy. Of, well, the Children.”

Merunas chocked on a bit of raspberry. Then, with a gesture, he made the curtains draw shut and sang a spell of soundproofing. “That should do it. Now, boy, tell me everything.”

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Trudy yawned enormously by the time she jotted down the last sale in her books. Time for a cuppa and then to bed. She hummed a line from an old song as she made her way to the kitchen. Pity she only remembered the one. She must have known the rest at some point, not that her memory was what it had been.

Trudy stopped dead, seconds away from stumbling over a grandchild’s toy. She picked the little cart up and rushed into the kitchen where she expected the kids has snuck in again to raid the sugar supplies.

Instead, she saw a man lift up little Winny.

The wizard Munck raised the child to eye level. “It’s you! It really is you!”

“Let go of my grandchild right now!”

The next thing Munck knew, his chin was met with a wooden clog-clad foot. At the other end, Granny Trudy easily caught the crying granddaughter that was being dropped in the process. “It’s alright, luv, granny’s here. Now you run up to mommy. And you…” She turned, barring the doorway with her entire body while the child scarpered upstairs. “Here, you were in here earlier today, Mr so-called wizard.” She grabbed a rolling pin from a table and laid into him.

Munck yelped as he rolled away in time. A blow caught him on the back before he thought to summon his magic shield.

“You get out of that bubble and face me like a man!”

“I say, old crone, this is all a mistake!”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“No, calling me crone is a mistake!”

Several more blows bounced off the magic shield. “Ma’am, please, I can explain… I’m a wizard! I’m here about the prophecy of the Children of the Sky!”

Trudy calmed momentarily. Munck though it safer to stay in his bubble just the same.

“That old chestnut,” Trudy mumbled. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Uh… Munck, ma’am. Hungerford Munck.”

“What did you do to your parents that they named you Hungerford, Mr Munck?”

A lot, Hungerford thought, but before he could speak, the old lady continued her tirade. “Well, out with it, what about the prophecy? I haven’t heard about it since I was a child. And why are you trying to kidnap kids for it?”

“But wizard Merunas said the Child of the Sky that fell from the sky lived here! He said she lives here!”

“I do live here.”

Munck, in his surprise, dropped his shield and his jaw. “What?”

“I fell out of the sky over seventy years ago and was adopted by the Schlagnitweits. Never met another one.”

“But you’re a baker!”

“So? It’s honest work, is it not? Something you clearly know nothing about, breaking into people’s homes, menacing small children…”

“But, but, but the prophecy!”

“Well, when no one showed up, my adoptive parents decided I needed to learn a trade.”

“But the prophecy…”

“What prophecy?”

“It, it, it’s been foretold that three children will fall from the sky over Altania and be brought to Muirburg, the capital, where in the oldest chapel under the king’s palace they must perform the Ancient Song, and, and, and, uh, every one of them knows only one verse so they really have to do it together, and, and, that shall summon a Golden Age!” Hungerford finished with as much pathos as a man under threat of rolling pin could muster.

“Hogwash and balderdash,” were Granny Trudy’s words of awe.

“No, no, it’s true, it’s an approved prophecy by the guild of seers. I mean, the first part did come true, you can’t question that!”

“I can and I will,” Trudy grumbled, but unfortunately the lanky louse was right. Her falling out of the sky, an event she didn’t even remember but which had caused quite sensation in this quiet neck of the woods, not to mention a draw in pilgrims for the first five years of her life, could of course be an accident of the gods, but how likely was that? Then again, Aske Roggenbaer, now ninety, had been born out of a watermelon; the gods liked a bit of fun as much as other people.

“My master dedicated his life to finding the Children!” Hungerford went on while she had been brooding. “I’ve sworn I would continue his work and not rest until it’s done. I, I, well, his texts were really helpful, which is how I got word of this town…”

“So you’re telling me that in over seventy years your master couldn’t locate a couple of kids?”

“Three. It’s always three.”

“Seventy years and he couldn’t find three kids?”

“There’s a lot of them on the planet,” Hungerford defended the honour of his late master.

“Should have just advertised on the town boards.”

“See, ma’am, not everyone is comfortable with coming right out and saying, ‘Oh by the way, this child dropped from the sky, are you looking for it?’ Would your parents have?”

“S’ppose not. But why in all the world did you think it was my granddaughter? Have I mentioned it all happened over seventy years ago?”

“Well… my master thought the children would, uh, stay children. Age pretty slowly. Go through a growth spurt once their destiny is revealed and such.”

“Aha. So you were looking for never-aging children. Boy, if there were such a thing, your master would have heard of it within the first ten years. By any chance, was he kicked in the head by a horse in youth?”

“Would you kindly not disparage my master like this?” Hungerford said with righteous indignation, but she had made a good point. What had his master been thinking? Granted, in the last years of his life he had spent almost all his time in a cloud of pipeweed smoke. The imported stuff from fae country was said to do things to your mind, though he swore it sharpened his memory.

Trudy raised the rolling pin. “Would you kindly take yourself out of my house before I make you?”

“But, but, the prophecy…”

“I’ll hear no more about some magic song! Now out!”

Hungerford was grabbed by the scruff of his robes and tossed out the door like a cat at bedtime. Behind him, the door was closed and locked with angry clicks. He heard voices coming from within, no doubt the rest of the family, woken by the ruckus. Hastily, Hungerford gathered his robes and fled down the street. Now that this approach had failed spectacularly, he would have to go with Merunas’ plan b. He had really hoped it wouldn’t be necessary to involve – Munck shuddered – marketing.

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Trudy opened the bakehouse to screaming chaos. No sooner had she unlocked the door to the shop, did all four of her children gather around her, yell “Surprise!”, and took her over to the marketplace where the height of the spring festival had taken on traits resembling civil war. On the way, neighbours greeted and congratulated her left and right. As they pressed on towards the square, the entire town seemed to have come here today.

“It’s not my birthday. What is happening?”

“The mayor wants to congratulate you, mother,” eldest daughter Vibeke explained proudly.

“What? Why?”

“Possibly because we’re the best business in town,” said her eldest son, only half-joking.

The stage where the band was supposed to play wellers and country waltzes now contained smiling town officials. Trudy was complemented to the stage.

The mayor, a moustachioed lad of thirty-five who at age ten had stolen a cookie from her display, met her grinning ear to ear. “My dear Mistress Schlagnitweit, I am overwhelmed!”

“Likewise,” Trudy said, unsure. “About… what exactly?”

But the mayor turned to address the crowd. “Friends, countrymen… and countrywomen, of course, let me reminisce a moment. Two and seventy years a child fell from the sky.” He squeezed suffering Trudy’s shoulder. “And what a draw it was for the tourists, eh?” Laughter from the crowd followed this uncomfortably true remark. “Yes, Mistress Schlagnitweit, our town owes you considerable thanks. Your arrival put us on the map! And so does your departure…”

“What departure?” Trudy interrupted.

“As the prophecy foretold, kindly interpreted by wizard Merunas, the Children of the Sky will finally reunite to fulfil their destiny!”

Trudy looked over to her right where wizard Merunas stood and nodded graciously. Behind him, Hungerford cowered with shaking knees and tried an unsure wave in her direction. “Reunite with who? Will somebody kindly tell me what…”

“Why, Mistress, surely you remember the prophecy that the Children of the Sky must reunite to bring about a new Golden Age for all? The wizard Munck has kindly agreed to accompany you to the capital.”

“What? Now? I’m over seventy! You expect me to travel to gods know where?”

“Ah, resisting the call of destiny. Just as the prophecy foretold!” proclaimed wizard Merunas and Munck was quick to nod enthusiastically. “The first step of your journey has already begun!”

“I will not go!”

“Let’s have a vote then,” the mayor shrugged. “All in favour of Mistress Schlagnitweit fulfilling her destiny and putting our town back on the map as a major travel destination?”

The chorus of ayes nearly blew them off the stage.

“There. Besides, we already started production on the new town seal. Thank you ever so much for coming, Mistress!”

“No time for autographs!” wizard Munck said good-naturedly and dragged a murderous looking Trudy away from the stage.

“Unhand me, boy! Oh, I’m going to put laxatives in all their morning pastries! Unhand me, I say! Where’s that rolling pin got to?”

Trudy found herself surrounded by family members, Vibeke as the head. “Mother, you can’t just leave! Think of your health! I’m coming with you.”

“Absolutely not, you have three children to take care of.”

“Two, mum.”

“Well, it’ll soon be three, won’t it?” She threw her daughter a meaningful look. “And then there’s the bakery. Your grandparents worked too hard to see it fall to ruin now. And besides, I’m not going, they can’t make me. You find the other two first and then come get me,” she added in Munck’s direction.

“Let me handle this,” Merunas said, beard a-bristle. “It will be a perilous journey, of course, especially for a woman of your advanced years …”

“We’re the same age,” Trudy said, staring daggers.

“… but with your plucky mentor to guide you, all should be well.”

Trudy looked the skinny boy up and down, took in the patches on the seam of his robes and on his hat, the encouraging but unsure smile, and the staff he could barely hold, and said, “Absolutely not.”

“I told you she’s stubborn. I suggest you start plan c.”

“Oh dear,” Hungerford mumbled, but aloud he said. “Mistress, uh … would you look here for a moment?”

He hated himself as he spoke the words and the spell fell on her. His thin frame had trouble catching the woman as she fell unconscious.

“What are you doing with my mother?”

Merunas raised his staff. “Run, boy! Get her on the cart!”

Munck did as told and decided to let his guilty conscience eat him alive later. He had some trouble loading Trudy on the back of the cart and tried to gently bed her head on a sack of potatoes he was bringing as food for the journey. Then he climbed on the coachman’s seat and let the horse trot off before anyone could summon the town guards. He sighed when he realised he had two more to find.

Merunas turned to the protesting family and the crowd that was forming behind it. His robe swished as he performed a gesture and thumped the earth with his staff. “By flame of hearth and sea of brine, I tell thee, everything is fine!”

The people blinked at him, all experiencing the exact sensation of walking into a room and forgetting why.

“And now that our Mistress Schlagnitweit has so graciously accepted her calling,” Merunas went on as long as the spell was at its peak effect, “I say, Mr Mayor, it’s time for a drink!”

That brought everyone back on track. The mayor waved a signal to the brewers and several casks were broached immediately.

“Master Merunas, you will join us of course?” the mayor called after the retreating wizard.

“No can do, my good man, I have an urgent spell to cast. You enjoy.”

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Alone in his study, Merunas locked all doors and windows and drew the curtains. He rolled away the dusty carpet to reveal something that wasn’t modern art but rather similar. Lines jagged to steep corners, long-forgotten symbols heaved, drops of red liquid of questionable origin were dribbled on it. Merunas stepped into the ring that had been smeared inside. A moment later, he stood in the vast black hall and waited for the two coal basins to ignite. When they did, he bowed. “It is done, master. One of them is underway.”