Chapter 12: The Well of Abstraction
In Emika’s mind, the decision to go to that place had been made pretty much the moment she had received the notification. She simply had to find out more about her curse by any means possible; and if this even just slightly furthered her understanding of magic and magical creatures, that in and of itself was already a win. In addition to all of that… What could possibly go wrong? No matter what the outcome, she didn’t feel like whatever happened there could make her current situation any worse.
The main issue was that this place was definitely too far away to just walk to. It was well outside the town in the northern reserve.
She would have to go by bike. That way, it was less likely that other people would touch her, and she could potentially get away from dangerous situations much quicker than by foot.
So, she started scrambling around for a while, trying to prepare herself as best as she could for whatever might come; she packed food, tea, some additional clothing, a flashlight, a power bank in case her phone battery died, and the newspaper she had retrieved from her mailbox this morning.
Emika actually was a little bit anxious about whether the news had some info on her case in it that hadn’t made it to the radio broadcasts. And, she figured, on a stake-out she’d need to find something to do anyway.
As for her growth, she just decided to wear a big poncho to conceal it as much as possible. Even if there were some branches protruding from her; that was probably going to look weird for outsiders, but as long as they didn’t see them literally extrude from her skin, it should be okay, she figured.
So, at some point in the late afternoon, and with the feeling of a large clump in her stomach, she left the gates of her residence to find whatever that spatial distortion had waiting for her. It had been a hot day, but by now, as the sun neared the horizon, the heat slowly let off. She hadn’t been out in nice weather amid nature like this in a while, which eased her tremendous anxiety at least a little.
At one point, while traversing large meadows on thin, old asphalt roads, she saw a small group of deer grazing at the end of the grassland.
It wasn’t before long until she could actually start feeling the strain on her thighs; she rarely used her bike to travel long distances. Eventually, as the sun was setting, Emika arrived at a small railway gate at a junction crossing an abandoned track. It took a bit of effort to carry her bike around the barrier. The leaves of a neighbouring tree hung so low that she got her own growth tangled up in them. After the junction, a way led to the left, closely hugging the railroad. That’s where she needed to go.
Clearly, this place wasn’t frequented by anyone. Her destination was an abandoned station — or rather, the vague surroundings of it.
Now, it was dark.
Throughout the entire journey, her branches levered against her arm as they were sticking out in the wind; especially so when she was pedalling fast.
Emika felt herself getting a little jumpy. At one point, as she was moving, she set off a crow right in the tree above her, who then blurted out some caws and flew away. She almost crashed from fright.
Finally, she finally arrived at a small abandoned settlement. The houses had fallen into disrepair; the windows were broken, vegetation had started growing through the walls and collapsed roofs. From the looks of it, it had been decades since the last person left. Somewhere here… That ‘Well of Abstraction’ had to be somewhere here.
Having not taken a single break up until now, she drank almost all of her tea and ate most of her provisions. Then she sat there, on the step of the entrance to one of the houses, for a few minutes, massaging her calves.
The scent of the musty forest floor filled her nose, and she heard a little stream babbling in the distance. The sounds of a few birds echoed around her, as well as the rustling of leaves in the trees.
Emika felt weirdly calm, but vulnerable at the same time. At least, she didn’t immediately see or hear anything that could be described as that “spatial distortion.” That meant, it was time to start investigating. Pulling out her flashlight, she took a deep breath and slowly entered the first small bungalow.
The door had been removed from the frame, and inside was a ton of garbage; pieces of broken furniture and glass, isolation material, leftover concrete and chipboard. She realised only now that her clothing was very ill-suited for her endeavour. Not only was she wearing sandals bare-footed, she also had put on leggings with just a short skirt and a poncho to lightly conceal her upper body growths. She did have a trench coat in her luggage, but that was just in case she’d get cold at night.
Trying not to accidentally cut off one of her toes at a large shard of glass or something like that, she slowly strode through the room to take a look around. Of course, she thought it was unlikely to find a well of any kind inside a house, but she didn’t want to get surprised by anything jumping out of unchecked corners either. Just as she thought that, she got her face tangled up in a myriad of spider netting. Annoyed, she took a cursory glance at the kitchen, and it was just the same as the main room.
Okay… first building done
, she thought to herself. She decided to be adventurous and climb out of the window in the back, mostly because she didn’t feel like risking walking over all the glass again in the dark. Unfortunately, she only realised too late that a whole patch of stinging nettles awaited her on the other side… Immediately, her feet and lower legs were absorbed, and even her leggings were not enough to keep them from applying their burns.She made a few jumps, trying to get out as fast as possible, almost breaking an ankle as she accidentally hopped into an unexpected small hole in the ground.
Emika sighed. For someone growing bonsai trees for a living, she sure had very little experience with being outdoors. She didn’t remember it being this hard from back when her mother had been alive, taking her out to the woods all the time.
However, as she had barely finished that thought, she suddenly heard a noise and froze. She could only recognize it as a mixed high-pitched, low grunting and puffing, quite unlike anything she had ever heard before. Her blood ran cold and for a second, she wondered why she had even come here.
Slowly, and as carefully as possible, she made her way back onto the path, then even taking off her sandals, just so her steps wouldn’t be so loud. She didn’t even feel the burns of the nettles anymore, as her legs were now ice-cold and sweaty.
Step by step, she inched closer to the source of the sounds as they changed in pitch and strength. She couldn’t see anything, though, even as she tried to illuminate the direction the noise came from. Eventually, she passed by a small plum tree, and felt the wet fruits squish open under her bare feet as she walked over them.
Whatever made the noise was very close now, but still completely invisible. Slowly, Emika knelt down, as the sound seemed to be coming from below.
After a few minutes of staring around, and as her eyes slowly got more accustomed to the dark, she finally saw what it was.
A tiny hedgehog was striding through the forest ground, putting its little nose into the moss, then regularly feeding itself off of the plums beneath the tree. Emika’s throat was so dry that the tiny laugh she almost let out got stuck inside it.
She was unsure how it was possible for a tiny being like that to make this much noise. That is, it did so until it actually, in complete shock, recognized Emika, who was now cowering only about two metres away. They both eyed each other for a few seconds, until, as if by some unknown command, the hedgehog suddenly and immediately ran away, vanishing into the night.
Emika chuckled and got up again, and started rummaging in her pocket to find her tea. She was completely drenched in sweat.
She only registered the true danger of the situation as she turned towards the path, freezing in place the instant she did.
A flat, scarlet red ring levitated in front of her.
It was fuzzy, as if sketched by a large brush in a hasty stroke, but also perfectly round, the way it could never be done by hand. The shape’s brilliance remained completely untouched by the darkness of the night — in fact, Emika felt like it was painted directly onto her retina.
And it closed in.