Song of the Piper

::21:: Anton (Part 1)

Music is Spikeroog from The Witcher 3 OST. Play it!

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Vertigo was overtaking my senses. I lurched dizzily, not sure which way was up and which was down. I was flailing. But my limbs couldn't find any purchase. I tried to focus on my surroundings, only to have my vision blurred even further. It was dark. That was all I knew.

I suddenly landed on my face with a splat. All the air was knocked out of my lungs, and I sprawled on the ground painfully. Spitting dirt out of my mouth, I scrambled onto my feet. I was in the middle of a town square; people rushed by me without taking the slightest hint of notice. Apparently having a girl dropping out of nowhere and into their land was a common occurrence for them.

My head swam, and I staggered sideways, clutching onto an immobile cart for support. The sun was dying out, casting long shadows at my feet. My eyes darted about wildly. Confusion sang in my ears, and shock was numbing my body.

No. Just a memory, a small voice at the back of my mind reminded me. I inhaled deeply, fighting the urge to scream out of hysteria.

"Papa, where's Mama?"

A voice floated over the cacophony of the crowd. I wondered how I could hear the girl. In fact, the noise around me was rather muted; I felt like I was listening to them while my head was ducked underwater. Yet those words had rung out so clearly.

Automatically, my feet guided me towards the voice. I saw myself walking, but I wasn't in control of my actions. I took another deep breath, loosening my tense muscles. Just go with it, I told myself. At least my bad leg wasn't aching. I'd expected at least a throbbing of some sort, considering my undignified landing upon the cobblestones.

"Back at the inn, dearest," replied the girl's father. "She needs her rest."

I continued to walk towards the voices. The square was packed with bodies, but I managed to slip past everyone easily, as though I were a whisper of the wind. I had a strange sense of familiarity as I navigated the area. A nagging feeling told me that I should recognise the place. There was just something about the way the buildings were aligned and the layout of the town that spoke to me.

Then I knew why—this was Hamelin.

My eyes widened in amazement at the realisation. In my stupor, I accidentally bumped into someone. My throat choked up in fear when I recognised the man: Karl. The man who had snapped my wrist when I was young. The one who had started the notion of using threats to squeeze money out of my poor Papa Gunter.

He brushed past me without a word, even as I stammered a 'sorry'. Like I hadn't even bumped into him at all. Odd. He was the one who was finding fault with others; and if others gave him a chance to do so, he'd gladly seize the chance. Why did he let me go?

I shook my head, forcing myself to move forward. There would be plenty of time to contemplate the situation later.

"Why are we here, then?" asked the girl.

"You wanted to explore the town, no?" The man's voice was deep and complacent, and had a sparkling charm to it. I think I could listen to him talk about grass and never get bored.

"I want to play with Josef," the girl whined.

"Perhaps later, dearest."

Eventually, I pinpointed the father-daughter duo. It was obvious that they were related, if their dark, curling hair was any indicator. They were strolling ahead of me, sticking close to one another. The girl was clutching onto her father's hand, her only anchor to the world. They were garbed in simple yet sturdy clothes, suited for travelling. Mud and dirt gathered at the hems, and they walked with a wary vigilance to their footsteps.