The Things Lost
Leran, cabin in the Togart Woods-1710
“Thank ya for that, stranger,” The middle-aged man coughed as he sat down in front of the fireplace in an effort to relax. “We’d never have made it here if ya hadn’t come along.”
“It’s Alver,” the young man in front of him said offhandedly, scratching his head of auburn-colored hair with a shock of white down the front as he looked around the stone hut. “I’m glad I could help, but in all honesty, it was pure luck I had meant to pass through town before I got back on the road.” The smell of burning hickory sent a relaxing, calming feeling through the room, allowing its inhabitants to breathe deeply without fear. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get there before the Hodach destroyed everything, by the way,” he grimaced.
“That’s what that was? A Hodach?” the older man grunted as he stabbed at the fire angrily as he recalled the memory, but a small cough near their chairs forced both of their heads to turn. A young girl sat in the floor, playing with an old worn out doll. The older man leaned over to pat her head tenderly as Alver simply smiled at the spectacle and poured them both a small amount of mead from the nearby jug. Once their glasses were full, Alver sat down in front of the older man.
“That’s correct, it was what we’d call a Ruegest, a particularly ill-tempered Hodach that’s prone to violent streaks whenever it encounters humans,” Alver explained, leaning his chair back against the thick stone wall that separated the three from the outside world. He took a careful, measured sip, allowing the bittersweet liquid to run over his tongue for a few moments before he swallowed it.
“By ‘we,’ I assume ya to be a Hodach Master, eh?” The older man studied Alver from across the small gap between them, downing the whole cup of mead in one gulp and began pouring himself a second helping.
“That’s right.”
“So, what exactly are the Hodach? I mean no disrespect to ya, sir, but we’ve only heard tales of Hodach Masters, none ever bothered to pass through town before.”
“It’s fine, it’s not very surprising that you haven’t heard about us, we’re kind of a dying breed,” Alver chuckled and leaned closer, noticing that the young girl had now given him her undivided attention. Similarly, her father seemed unable to peel his eyes away from the young man slowly sipping mead from his cup in front of him.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, time’s change,” he simply shrugged and leaned over to replace the nearly empty cup onto the cold, hard floor. “People who have the ability to see the Hodach are extremely rare lately, and they need to be of a certain age before most Hodach Masters will even consider taking them on as an apprentice. For all I know, the next couple of generations won't be able to see them again, but nobody truly knows for sure anymore. We just have to bide our time until we can teach the next generation.”
“Sorry to hear that, Master Alver. Forgive me for saying this, but we’d always heard that Hodach Masters kidnapped orphans in the dark of night to take them under their wings, we’d no clue that it was otherwise.”
“Pure rumors, all of it,” Alver flashed a warm smile of crooked teeth. “Nothing more than superstition passed down by an old angry farmer, I’d bet. We’re above kidnapping to further our guild. We’ve managed to survive through civilized means up until now, and I’m sure we’ll survive this time as well.”
“And besides that, I’d doubt there’d be enough orphans able to see these creatures, if they’re as rare as ya say.”
“You’ve got me there.”
“Well, anyway, the Hodach, ya were explaining them, what they are?”
“Right, right. Well, the Hodach are a difficult thing to describe, especially to people who can’t see them in the first place. I guess there’s no real way to describe them, though. It’d be like trying to describe the way an object feels to someone who’s never held it in their own hands before, sensory experiences are almost impossible to describe.” Alver noticed that his audience was failing to understand from the blank looks on their faces, and resumed his train of thought. “The best way I could try to describe them is that they’re life in its purest , most basic form. They’re alive and not alive, they’re here and not here, floating just beyond the realm of your perception. They could be wrapped around your shovel as you dig a ditch, lying just underneath your bed as you sleep at night, or running around outside with your children as they play their games. They’re the most beautiful and terrifying things in the known world. Because of their nature, their physical shapes are ambiguous and change with every different species. Some could look something like a dog, or a cat, or a bird, but some might not even have shapes as we’d know them, I’ve seen quite a few that just should not exist by our normal standards. Most people are incapable of seeing them, but there are some even you two would be able to see.”
“So they’re ghosts?” the old man asked, leaning forward in his seat as his daughter climbed to her feet and clambered into her father’s lap.
“Most of the time what people call ghosts are actually Hodach when it’s not just superstition. There are all kinds of subcategories of Hodach too. Some of them can have personalities like you or me, but there’s an entire world of Hodach existing right beside our own, living in pack, travelling, hunting, making homes in the most remote or the most populated areas in the known world. They’re all just trying to live their lives, the same as every human on this planet. That’s what the Ruegest was doing, it thought your town looked like a good spot to make its nest and destroyed anything in its way.”
“So that’s what ya plan to do next? Ya mean to kill it, Master Alver? I know ya said ya meant to be simply passing through the area, but surely a Hodach attack is within your power to fix for us.” Alver’s face grew dark and cold, and narrowed his eyes at the older man in front of him.
“No, I don’t kill anything. My job is to figure out what causes Hodach problems to begin with, and study them, try to find a way to fix the problem. However,” the young man sighed. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for you two in this situation. Once the Ruegest marks its territory there is very, and I do mean very, little to do about it, and any of those options are far beyond my own skills. I’m afraid you’ll have to live with the way that is, unfortunately.”
“Ya mean we’re left without a home? We’re meant to leave our old lives behind just like it were nothing? Just because of some invisible beast?” the older man slammed his fist onto the mantle of the fireplace, sending a small incense burner crashing to the ground. “Ya expect—”
“It wasn’t invisible!” the girl suddenly shouted from her father’s lap. Alver’s head snapped to study her, his face full of surprise while her father picked her up and returned her to the floor where he could see his daughter clearly.
“Ya mean ya saw it, Emily? Ya saw that horrible creature while it destroyed our home?” her father stammered in confusion. Emily simply nodded, as if she was being chastised for breaking the family vase.
“What did it look like, what did you see, Emily?” Alver asked, leaping from his chair to kneel down in front of the child.
“It looked like a frog, like the one we found in the garden that day, Daddy, but this one was a lot taller, and not as round, I could see ribs. And it had these three, big, red glowing eyes,” the child whimpered at the recollection and hugged her doll tightly to her chest. Alver held his arms out wide and embraced Emily tightly, trying to press the traumatic memory away from her young mind.
“I’m sorry you saw that,” he sighed. “I am so, so sorry. Here,” he released the child and dug in one of his coat pockets until he produced a small bundle of what looked to be ordinary incense sticks and handed them to the girl's father. “Burn a few of these when she sleeps for a week or so.”
“What is it, incense?”
“Of a sort. They’re incense sticks coated with the powder of a fossilized Hodach that’s known to cause temporary memory loss. If she inhales one of these while she sleeps, it should keep away any nightmares until she recovers from the trauma.”
“Well, thank ya again, Master Alver.” Emily’s father examined the sticks thoroughly, and, seeming to be satisfied with their appearance, set them on the mantle. “We’ll be heading south. I’ve heard talk of a town there in need of a blacksmith we can try to start again in. It hasn’t even been a full day yet and I’ve grown tired of borrowing this house from my cousin. Makes me uncomfortable being indebted to someone like this, even if they’re family. I’d hoped to only stay here a couple days, or long enough for ya to solve this problem, but if ya can’t, we won't be staying here anymore than we have to. You’re welcome to travel with us, if ya plan to head the same direction.”
“I actually had something else in mind,” Alver mumbled softly and returned his attention to the small child in the floor. “If Emily can see the Hodach, then she could come with me, and learn from a very good friend of mine about the Hodach. But, the problem is time, as it so often is. Her time is running out before she can actually take the training, it’s not something that’s on offer forever, as I told you earlier. If she’s to come with me at all, it needs to be done before she gets too old. I need to be back on my way today, but you’re welcome to come with us until you’re ready to say goodbye.” Silence fell between the two men as the young child watched them both with the utmost curiosity.
“Emily, go play outside, please,” her father grunted.
“But Dad—”
“Now!” the child scurried out the door as if she were fleeing from a hungry mountain lion she’d stumbled upon. Her father took a long, deep breath and pressed his temples firmly between his middle finger and thumb. “Ya won’t be taking her,” her grunted.
“I understand how you’re feeling right now, it’s perfectly understandable, but—”
“Ya know nothing!” he bellowed, baring his teeth in fury. “First, sickness takes me wife, leaving me with a daughter that looks more and more like her each day, a constant reminder of what I’ve lost. I try me hardest to be the best smithy in town, I work me fingers to the bone until me back is aching and me face is scorched by the heat from the forge just to keep her fed and clothed and happy. And then, as if we hadn’t suffered enough, our home is destroyed by some gods-forsaken creature, leaving us with nothing! Absolutely nothing but what we’ve managed to beg to borrow from my remaining family. And now ya want to take away me daughter, the last thing I have of Mary! All so that she can learn about these monsters that got us into this in the first place! Ya claim to be a Hodach Master, but all ya done is run with ya tail between ya legs like a damned dog! Why should I ever want me daughter to turn out like one of your ilk?” At this Alver’s body grew stiff, and the normally warm glow in his eyes grew so intense that it seemed they were filled with emerald fire.
“Your daughter can see the Hodach!” Alver shouted with more volume and anger in his voice than the older man had thought possible as he towered over him. “She has the extremely rare ability to help people being plagued by them the same exact way that I helped the two of you escape, or need I remind you what would've happened if I hadn’t jumped between the two of you and the Ruegest? Most people go their entire lives searching for a purpose, and some never manage to find it! Can you honestly say that you don’t want her to find a purpose in life? I can help her find it, I can help her develop her talents rather than letting them go to waste in the home of a blacksmith!” Alver’s hard words filled the cabin, weighing heavily upon the tension in the room as the two men glowered at each other in freshly resumed silence.
“How long does she have until she’s too old? Ya said there was an age limit,” Emily’s father finally whispered.
“Ten. Any older and my friend won’t take her.”
“Then she’s another year. I won’t let ya take her, not yet anyway. Give me one more year with me daughter. Until then, leave us be, please. Come to a little village called Hacheil when it’s time, that’s where you’ll find us.”
“Alright,” Alver nodded. He gathered up his small backpack from the far corner of the house before heading for the door. With the strap in his fist, he glanced over just enough to see Emily’s father cradling his head in his hands, whimpering softly. “Just because she leaves doesn’t mean she won’t come back.”
“Did you?” he growled.
Dark summer nights illuminated by a thousand fireflies fluttering on a mountaintop.
Raven locks twisting around a pair of slender, ivory fingers.
Warm cider on a cold night, and an old, tender hand stroking his auburn hair lovingly.
Tender first kisses beside a roaring river, far away from the eyes of the sleeping village.
“No,” Alver grimaced as reality settled once more and the memories raced away. “But, then again, where else would I go but the road?” With that, Alver exited the cabin and shut the door as quietly as he could, venturing out into the summer heat, leaving the man alone with his thoughts.
Outside the doorframe, Alver leaned against the thick wall and sighed deeply. When he opened his eyes, he noticed small, glowing beings dancing just on the peripheral of his vision in front of his face, always managing to stay just out of the center of his eyesight no matter where he looked.
“Hasn’t been a full day yet and they’re already managing to find me,” he groaned in aggravation and took a thin, hand-rolled cigarette from his pocket, placed it in his mouth, and lit the paper with an intricately designed silver lighter. He took a deep inhalation, and blew the smoke into the air above his head. The little pests scattered, fleeing the cloud as fast as they could. “Time to get going,” he mumbled to himself and took another puff from the cigarette, but just as he turned away from the house, he caught sight of Emily sitting hunched over next to a tall, gnarled apple tree. From his position, he could only make out the top of her golden head thanks to the tall grass surrounding her, but she seemed to be extremely interested in something. Alver crept up as silently as he could behind the child until he was merely feet from her.
“What’ve you got there?” he asked. Emily jumped up in  fright and turned to face him, one hand hidden behind her back.
“Nothing,” she whispered, frowning at the foul smell emanating from the cigarette still in his mouth. It was a sour, pungent odor that smelled nothing like the tobacco her father smoked. However, Alver seemed genuinely unphased by the scent.
“It’s far from nothing. Whatever it is, you were pretty interested in it. I’d like to have a look, if you’d share with me,” he grinned kindly and threw the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before crouching down to look Emily in the eyes. The child nodded slowly and brought her hand out from behind herself. She opened her tiny, loosely-curled fist to reveal a large, glowing, bright-blue butterfly that emitted a fine golden dust with every slow beat of its hole-ridden wings. “Wow,” Alver chuckled in disbelief, leaning closely towards the creature. “I’ve never seen one with such a bright color, let alone one that let you catch it.”
“I found it sleeping on the tree, but it doesn’t shock me like the ones we had around my house. I really like this one.”
“I can see why, but you should probably let it go, I bet it’s got places to be.” he glanced upwards and after a few moments pointed up to a golden cloud that was specked with a faint blue color that managed to stand out against the backdrop of stormclouds in the distance. “See? Looks like his pack’s about to leave him behind.”
“Alright,” the little girl pouted and Alver gently tapped the Hodach with his forefinger, prodding it into action until it finally and suddenly fluttered away towards its siblings, showering them with a golden dust. Alver pulled a small, empty glass bottle from his pants pocket and held it open for a small pinch of the glittering soot to fall into, however, the moment it touched the glass it dissipated, leaving no trace of it ever existing.
“Well,” he sighed, replacing the bottle from whence it came, “that’s disappointing.”
“Are you leaving, Alver?” Emily asked as she watched the flock fade into nothing more than small specks on the horizon.
“I am, but I’ll be back soon, around your next birthday, and then you’ll come with me to meet a friend of mine. He’ll teach you everything he can about the Hodach.”
“So I’ll be able to make friend with all kinds of them like with the butterfly?”
“Well, not exactly. The Hodach are strange creatures, like I said earlier. While not all of them are inherently trying to hurt us like the one I saved you and your father from, not all of them are exactly keen on us humans either. They’re not our friends, but they’re not always our enemies either. More like very unusual neighbors. So, there’s very rarely a case where you can actually trust a Hodach. If you do, you might find yourself in some pretty serious danger, so it’s best to avoid playing with them.”
“Oh, okay, Alver,” the child nodded, her face now pale with disappointment. Alver grimaced, patted her head gently, and rose to his feet. He began to stroll down the hill at a leisurely pace, humming a soft tune with every step of his feet.
“However,” he called, turning his head back over his shoulder as he continued down the hill, “you’re perfectly free to like them.”

We cannot slow the passage of time. Fall will come as spring enters its deathbed, children will grow into old men and women, and the moon will rise as the sun falls in the distance. But spring will return, children will be born once more, and the sun will rise again, just as bright as before. What will come will come, and always sooner than we expect. We must instead treasure what we have within our grasp while the moment lasts, lest our lives pass by without a care.
Close your eyes.
Count to ten.
Look.