A dog would help him with hunting, provide protection for the family, and would even be some good company for Eden who Filip knew was growing up so fast that he and Nila could barely keep up with her!
Eden could still fondly remember making their way back to their homestead in the back of her father’s carriage, surrounded by empty crates, with the tiny ball of mangey fluff cradled in her bonnet. The poor thing shook with every ditch and bump in the road that the carriage’s wheels bounced over.
Inside the daub and stone house that evening, Eden sat on the floor by the warm hearth with a full stomach. Jasper’s head rested on her thigh.
The cold of the night had come quick as the sun went down. It nipped at her skin. Thankfully, the thatch roofing of the house kept most of the heat in, and Jasper’s warm company was always welcome.
Dinner had been a lovely mix of hot bean and onion stew. Nila even let Eden have some of the tangy old honey they kept in a jar on her toasted rye bread as a treat.
There wasn’t much left, so it was used sparingly. Foods were always running out.
Nila was busy with needle and thread in hand, stitching yet another rip in Eden’s dress. She sewed as neatly as possible, but the garment was more of a long tunic than a dress, so she knew that no matter what it was still going to look worn on her daughter.
Eden used the light from the hearth fire to flip through the pages of one of her father’s old books. The pages were worn, and the binding was ripping.
Eden was lucky enough to have a father who could teach her to read. He thought it was a valuable skill for anyone to have, since most in Alyria would never even learn how to write their own name.
Filip wanted his daughter to have every advantage he could give her, so that one day she may live a life better than they had.
Despite recognising most of the words, Eden preferred to look at the pictures.
Nila glanced over her shoulder at Eden. “What are you doing, love?”
Eden looked at each of the crude hand drawn images of misshapen, abstract creatures within the pages. Each new picture spawned a blast of ideas in her wild imagination.
“Papa used to read this to me when I was little,” Eden said.
She turned the page, revealing an image of a monstrous, hairless entity with long spikes of bone protruding from its hunched back and an unhinged open jaw as if it were roaring.
“The thraal. A fiendish hunter with a face like a hyena, as strong as a bull.
Not native to our world, the thraal was one of the many abominations to have crossed another realm during the Cataclysm of Old.
Hunted to extinction by mankind.”
“What on Eos are you reading?” Nila joked.
She walked over to Eden and looked down in her lap at the old, dust-covered book that she was glued to. Yet, she was taken aback by the hideous monstrosity on the page before her that had captivated little Eden.
“Where did you find this?”
“On papa’s bookshelf, behind the other storybooks.”
Eden flipped through the pages, her eyes darting around at the charcoal images of banshees, bodachs, changelings, arachnei, chimeras and all other kind of monstrous creatures.
One appeared to be familiar…
Eden gasped; she had found it! The strange animal that had flown past her by the brook the day before.
The sketch was more ambiguous than the others. Its form was wispy and shadowy, somewhat resembling a small human, but with an enlarged head, humungous eyes and four wings.
A sprite.
“Mama, look! This is what I saw by the water!” Eden exclaimed excitedly.
She was certain of it. Its bulging, insect-like eyes, scaly skin, and long limbs were undoubtedly not human, yet its resemblance to the human form was uncanny.
“It flew right past me, I’m sure of it.”
“Ooh, sounds exciting!” Nila said, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She rubbed Eden on the back. “You must be very lucky to have seen such a thing.”
“Mama, I’m not a little kid anymore. You don’t believe me, do you?”
“Sweetheart, sprites don’t exist. Perhaps they did one day long ago, but not anymore.”
“But I saw it!”
“It must have been something else that you saw,” Nila responded in a light tone. She did not want to disappoint her imaginative daughter, but Eden was getting too old for such nonsense. “A dragonfly perhaps, or a butterfly. Maybe a strange bird?”
Eden went silent, fixated on the picture, tracing her finger around the shape of its body.
Nila exhaled. “Now, why don’t you come help me stitch up this dress and-”
Eden shook her head. She wouldn’t hear any of it. “Mama, you have to believe me!”
“That’s enough about it, missy,” Nila grabbed the book from Eden’s grasp, shutting it with a thud and placing it high up on top of an unreachable cupboard. “No more stories. I think it’s time for bed now, dear.”
With some resistance, Eden was put to bed. The straw mattress she shared with her parents was uncomfortable, but mama and papa had promised Eden her own bed when she was old enough.
As the night rolled on, Eden couldn’t sleep. Her mind was far too distracted, imagining all sorts of strange scenarios.
Where did it come from? Why is it here? Did I really see a sprite?
She was certain she had.
Nila eventually came to bed, changing out of her grubby clothes and into a thin white nightgown.
Eden faked being asleep, shutting her eyes each time Nila looked her way. She knew she should have been asleep
