Collector of Oddities - A Stormlight Archive FanFiction

(Interlude 1-4) Fairytales

[Mother and son, Somewhere in Jan Keved]

-- 9 Months Ago | Days After the Falling Star --

The young boy huddled up under his covers, listening as his mom read him a story from a chair just beside the bed. She held a candle in a metal holder which kept the hot wax from dripping onto her fingers or the pages of the book. With her freehand she turned the page, then followed the glyphs with a finger as she read.

"And the great big dragon hissed; 'This world has become mine and you can't stop me, Axehoundman!' With that, he lifted his wings and roared into the sky!" His mother declared, changing her voice as she read for the dragon.

The little boy picked the covers up to hide his face, slightly cowering as the story came to life in his mind. "Wh-what happens next, ma?" He almost whispered, peaking over the covers to his mom.

She smiled warmly to him and ran a hand through his hair. "It's alright, I know that the dragon scares you, but it's just a story. And, guess what?"

The boy squinted for a moment, thinking with all his might, and his eyes shot open. He tossed off the covers and pointed at the ceiling.

The mother and son, in unison; "I, Axehoundman, will not allow you to destroy this world, could creature!"

He falls back on his pillow, giggling. His mother laughs lightly with him, helping him again with his blanket.

"And with that, the hero rocketed off and punched the dragon! The world was saved and Axehoundman stood proudly with Rufus, his axehound dog, by his side. The day was saved."

She shut the book gently and looked back to the boy, who was staring up at the ceiling in wonder and amazement.

"Can I be like him when I grow up?" He asked, out of the blue.

"Well of course you can!" She gets up, tucking the book under her arm, and leans to give him a kiss on the forehead. "Sleep tight, Ala."

She left the room quickly and quietly and began her way down the hall to her own room. They had a small, quaint little home complete with a tiny kitchen and a small hearth in the living room. On the wall hung a single portrait, but it was dusty and slightly off-center.

The mother made it to her room just down the hall, grabbed hold of the doorknob, and—

A knock at the door.

She stood there, frozen. Looking to the window and pitch black night outside, it had to be nearing the hour of nine. Surely she had just—

It came again, this time softer than the first. It ended with a slight scraping noise, as if something was dragged against the wood.

They quickly entered their bedroom and closed the door behind them, fearing anything at this hour of night. A deep breath was all she needed to calm down, before setting the book and candle aside and preparing to crawl into bed. Just as she had blown out the candle to set it on her desk, the rains began, and they pelted the wall facing Eastward.

"Oh-" She almost laughed. "Forgot about the highstorm, the knocking must've been the wind." With a shrug and a yawn, she heads to bed.

-

-

[The mother, Isla]

The mother, Isla, heads out to the market early the next morning to pick up a handful of things for the next few days. Fruit and vegetables were often sold cheap after the highstorms because of the quality, but for a family of two, it was a steal.

Four bags hung from her arms as she wandered the stalls; feeling lucky to have caught the market just before most others flooded the streets. It was quiet beyond the sounds of counted spheres and chopping produce, as well as the whispers that always seemed to travel around town, just as quickly as any highstorm.

The exotic fruits stall was rather empty—which was not strange after a storm of such power—yet the stallkeep still stood behind the counter. She was an older lady with crooked teeth and dark, almost navy eyes that seemed to pierce everything they looked at. Many just called her the "Crow" because of her keen sight and cawing-like voice.

"Have ya' 'ears?" The Crow slid down the counter, trying to get closer to Isla as the women passed by with her arms weighed down with shopping bags.

Isla tried to ignore the older woman and press forward, but The Crow cawed again. "Ya' might not got 'ears..."

"Y-yes, ma'am? What is it?" Isla stopped, turning her head but not giving the elder an ounce of attention.

"She does 'as 'ears, she does!" The Crow clapped happily, then slapped the hands onto the counter palm down. "So, 'ave you been listenin' with them 'ears? Seems there'sa ghost in'a town."

Isla rolled her eyes, playing along. "A ghost, you say?" Along with the part, she lifted her sleeved safehand to her mouth in 'shock'.

The Crow cackled, nodding. "'Ere is, some say they were walkin' about 'own all night long, scratchin' doors and what notsits."

To her chagrin, Isla found herself intrigued Mx thinking about the door just the night before... "Did this ghost look of anything? Or say anything, perhaps?"

The old woman shook her head and hummed while waving around her finger. "He was crazy, a drunk, probably. Says' that he was going on about a los' pet and tha' all should know him as a 'ero and whatnot."

"A pet? As a hero? Sorry?" Isla actually laughed. Crazy drunkard, must've thought he was Acehoundman or something. A superhero of some kind! Only in Jah Keved...

Isla bowed her head and thanked The Crow for the news, then continued home with her groceries in tow. There was no way it could be true, the character was- well- just that. Something out of a myth and nothing more.