Chapter 6: Pebbles and Revelations

  “I ugh… I can see him!" I said, not sure exactly what was going on or if I even believed what I was seeing.

  Bromm stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his expression shifting between wary and outright baffled. His eyes flicked between me and the imp perched smugly on the cupboard, but he wasn’t reacting the way I expected. No alarm, no sudden reach for his musket. Just confusion. He doesn’t seem the type to just let this slide.

  "Hey, Bromm," I said slowly, trying to gauge his reaction. "Do you not… see this creature here?"

  Bromm’s thick brows pulled together. "Ugh… no, lad. I don't know what the hells ya’ guys are on about." His frown deepened, and he gave me a long, scrutinizing look. "I thought maybe yer’d gotten some Madcap dust in ya’. That…or ya’ finally cracked from seein’ Bob glare at ya’ for too long."

  I blinked, glancing between him and the imp, who was now grinning like this was the best entertainment it had seen in years. "You really don’t see him?" I asked again, pointing.

  Bromm exhaled sharply through his nose. "Ain’t gonna change my answer, lad. Unless yer pointin’ at a particularly smug moth, I ain't seein' a damn thing."

  Veldrin let out a wild, triumphant cackle, throwing his arms wide like a deranged prophet who had just been proven right by the gods themselves. "AHA! YOU SEE?! I AM NOT MAD!"

  "Debatable," Bromm muttered.

  Veldrin ignored him completely. His manic glee only intensified as he spun to face the imp, jabbing a bony finger in its direction. "YOU EXIST. I KNEW IT!"

  The imp, still perched atop the cupboard, gave an exaggerated yawn before flicking another pebble straight at Veldrin’s forehead.

  Plink—

  Veldrin flinched, rubbing the spot with an irritated scowl. "INSOLENT CRETIN!" He whirled back to me. "And you! YOU can see him! Which means—" He gasped, eyes widening in realization. "—you are ALSO CURSED!"

  I did not like how he said that. "Hold on, hold on," I said, raising both hands. "Cursed? What? No. That’s not—"

  Veldrin clutched his head, pacing like a madman and cutting me off. "OHHH, THE SUFFERING, THE HORROR! DOOMED TO WITNESS THIS ABOMINATION, TRAPPED BETWEEN WORLDS—"

  "Or," I interrupted, "maybe I just have really good eyesight?"

  Veldrin stopped mid-spiral and glared at me like I had personally insulted his entire ancestry. "DON’T BE RIDICULOUS! THIS IS A MATTER OF THE ARCANE! OF SPIRITUAL IMPOSITIONS! OF—"

  "Alright, enough of that," Bromm cut in, rubbing his temple. "Can someone, ANYONE, explain to me why it looks like ya’ two are arguin’ with the wall?"

  I hesitated, then turned back to Veldrin. "So… just to be clear, you’re saying that this thing," I gestured to the imp, who was now plucking something from its sharp little teeth with a claw "isn’t actually… here?"

  Veldrin made a strangled noise in his throat. "OF COURSE IT'S HERE, YOU SIMPLETON. It exists—just not on the same physical plane as us!"

  "Great, so I’m hallucinating," I muttered.

  "You are NOT hallucinating!" Veldrin snapped. "You are perceiving beyond the veil! The wretched thing is TRAPPED BETWEEN WORLDS!"

  "…Right."

  Veldrin inhaled sharply through his nose, clearly straining to keep from throttling me. "Let me make this simple for your underdeveloped mortal brain." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "The imp is… displaced. It lingers in a state of phase shift. Stuck. It cannot interact with this plane. It cannot be touched." His eyes flashed. "But you can see it."

  I slowly processed that. Then frowned. "Wait. But it keeps throwing rocks at your head?"

  "YES," Veldrin hissed. "AND I WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE TO KNOW HOW."

  Another pebble hit him. Veldrin lunged at the imp, swinging wildly. His fingers passed clean through it like smoke. The imp, entirely unfazed, let out a delighted "Heheheheheh!" and lobbed another pebble. Veldrin snarled, snatching a candle from a nearby shelf and hurling it at the imp with the force of a man who had completely abandoned rational thought. The candle passed right through the imp. It did not, however, pass through the wall. Instead, it hit a bookshelf…a very overloaded bookshelf. Which immediately tipped forward with an ominous creak.

  Veldrin’s face went pale. "Oh—"

  The entire shelf crashed down, sending books, scrolls, and an alarming number of glass bottles shattering across the floor. A plume of multicolored smoke hissed upward, releasing what smelled disturbingly like burnt cinnamon and sulfur. A long silence followed. Veldrin, frozen mid-flail, slowly turned to glare at the imp. The imp, lying lazily on its stomach, propped its head up on both hands and smirked. Then—

  "Hey."

  The voice slithered into my ears like oil over water—high-pitched, scratchy, and layered with something unnatural, like a goblin trying to impersonate a noble while gargling gravel. I stiffened, then turned around. "Huh?" I said stupidly.

  The imp’s grin widened, showing rows of needle-like teeth. Its ember-like eyes flickered with something unreadable.

  "Soooo… you can hear me?" it drawled, its voice half-amused, half-calculating. "That is… pec-u-li-ar." It drew the word out, tasting it like a particularly juicy piece of gossip. It tilted its head, tapping its claws idly against the wooden cupboard. "Very… interesting."

  "You know…" The imp drawled, its ember-like eyes flickering with mischief. "It’s pretty obvious what happened to you, right?"

  I frowned. "Obvious?"

  From behind me, Veldrin emerged from the wreckage of fallen books and shattered jars, his robes dusted with colorful powders and something that smelled dangerously close to vinegar and rotten eggs. He grumbled under his breath, muttering curses about imps, gravity, and “damn unstable phase distortions.” Then, he stopped. His head snapped toward me, eyes narrowing.

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  "Are you…" His fingers twitched, pointing toward the imp. "Talking to him?"

  I hesitated. "...Yes?"

  Veldrin inhaled sharply—then lunged forward, grabbing me by the shoulders with alarming force. His fingers dug in like a man holding onto the last thread of sanity.

  "YOU CAN HEAR IT, TOO?!" he practically shrieked, his voice an octave higher than I thought physically possible.

  The imp giggled, kicking its legs playfully in the air. "Ohhh, wizard-boy is gonna lose his mind over this one." It rolled onto its back, claws tapping against its stomach. "I told you I was real, Veldrin. But nooo, ‘Hollow Madness’ this, ‘delusions’ that." It waggled a claw. "Tsk tsk. Should’ve trusted your own brilliance, old man."

  Veldrin looked like he was either about to pass out or explode. "I—YOU—NO!" He shook me slightly, as if trying to rattle my brain into a more acceptable reality. "I CAN’T HEAR IT"

  I blinked. "Wait…what?"

  Veldrin's grip tightened. "I have been staring at that wretched little thing for YEARS, watching it mock me, throw things at me, ruin my work, and it has NEVER spoken a single word to me!" His pupils were blown wide, his face caught between manic triumph and absolute horror. "You…" he jabbed a frantic finger at me. "...can hear it?!"

  "Ohh, this is delicious. The wizard is spiraling again, this is my favorite part of the day,” the imp said.

  I pulled back from Veldrin’s grip, rubbing my shoulders. “Hold on, can we back up? You—” I said, pointing at the imp, “what do you mean by ‘obvious’? Do you know why I’m here?”

  Veldrin’s wild eyes darted between me and the imp, his voice dropping to a frantic whisper. “Ask it! Ask it why it’s here, why it’s been wrecking my life! You’ve got to help me get answers from that little monster!”

  Before I could respond—CRACK! A sharp, static pop split the air, like a thread snapping in reality itself. Veldrin and I both looked over. The imp was gone.

  “What the hell? Did he just disappear for you too?” I asked.

  Veldrin let out a deeply relieved sigh. “He comes and goes. He never stays around long. His phase shift… it’s unpredictable.”

  He walked over to the fallen bookshelf, recovering it from the earlier disaster. His hands pressed flat against the empty wooden surface, fingers curling slightly. His voice dropped, quieter now, tinged with something I hadn’t heard before, something almost tired.

  “I was… once a man of nobility, honor. Renowned for my magical prowess.” He exhaled, shoulders tensing. “Then, ran out of town like a madman. Forced to live here, in the Hollow.” His fingers tightened. “And after enough years, I started to …believe it, that maybe I did have the Hollow Madness. Maybe the problem was me.”

  He trailed off, his eyes distant. Then, slowly, he turned to face me. “…Then you come along.”

  His fingers twitched against the wood. His pupils, already too wide, somehow widened more. “Do you know what that means?” he whispered.

  “It means the Hollow didn’t take my mind… It sharpened it.”

  Bromm loudly cleared his throat, stepping forward like a man cutting off a conversation that should never have started. “So, Veldrin, do ya’ think ya’ have answers for him?”

  Veldrin’s head snapped toward Bromm, like he had completely forgotten we weren’t alone. His wild stare flicked between us, then softened into something vaguely amused.

  “Of course I do,” he said. He turned away, fingers drumming absently against the wood. “When we study demonology, we learn the rules. The laws of summoning. A tether is created—a link between worlds. A snagged soul, plucked from its plane of existence. Normally, the right soul is pulled. Normally.”

  His gaze flicked back to me, eyes gleaming. “But there are many worlds, layered, shifting, overlapping. A summoning can misfire, catch something it wasn’t meant to.” He gestured vaguely toward me. “This young man? He died, and at that precise moment, he was caught in some summoning crossfire. A soul without a destination, yanked from its path.”

  Veldrin’s voice dipped lower, almost reverent. “That’s why he can’t go back. The tether is severed. His spirit is no longer recognized by his world—cut off. Which means…” his lips curled into something between fascination and pity “…a lost soul in a world that never asked for him. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

  I felt numb. “This is happening way too fast!” I snapped. “I don’t understand how you guys are just…so used to this! My world was nothing like this!” I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair as I tried not to spiral. “How am I supposed to just start over?”

  Bromm shifts his weight. Calmly, he said, “Ya’ need coin, a place to stay. Means ya’ need work. I could use a second set of hands. Maybe we start small. See if ya’ can swing that axe without choppin’ yer foot off.”

  I hesitate. “You’d actually help me?”

  Bromm lets out a slow exhale, rubbing his beard. “Ain’t about helpin’, lad. It’s about takin’ the next step. Ya’ want to sit around bellyachin’, or ya’ want to stand up an’ get movin’?”

  Veldrin lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Oh, fine. I suppose I should tag along.”

  Bromm raises a brow. “And why in the hells would ye’ come?”

  Veldrin scoffs. “Come now, Bromm, why do you think?” He gestures at me. “This young man can see and speak to a demon that has plagued me for years. He may be the only one who can help me be rid of it once and for all. No more torment. No more madness. Things can finally go back to how they were. Of course I’m coming. I need this man alive.” He straightens, folding his arms. “Now… what is our next step?”

  Bromm looks at Veldrin for a long moment, then turns to me. “Well, lad,” he said, smirking. “If yer gonna live in this world, ye’d best start learning how it works. And to do that… ya’ need gold.”

  He adjusts the strap of his musket. “We head back to town. That bounty board’s waitin’.”

  I glance at Veldrin. “You ready for that?”

  He waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Unlike you, I don’t need time to adjust to reality.”

  With that, he turns on his heel and sweeps toward the door only to stop abruptly. He pivots, lowering his voice.

  “One moment. I need to say goodbye to the missus.”

  Then, with all the reverence of a noble parting ways with his beloved, he leans down, whispers something inaudible, and presses a quick kiss to a battered old teapot sitting on the shelf. Bromm and I just stared. Veldrin straightens, dusting off his robes like nothing happened. “Right then, off we go!”

  Bromm shook his head, muttering, “Hells help me,” before pushing open the door.

  We step out into the thick, humid air, the woods stretching ahead. Bob grunted as we approached, shifting his weight with a bored snort.

  Bromm pat his side. “C’mon, Bob. We’ve got work.”

  And just like that, we set off down the winding path—a dwarf, a mad mage, a man in a world not his own. And Bob. The woods thickened around us, the undergrowth growing dense. Chittering noises echoed from the canopy above, rustling through the leaves. I glanced up just in time to see small, wiry creatures darting between the branches—TuffTails. They moved in skittish bursts, long bushy tails twitching as they scurried along the treetops. One paused, peering down at us with beady black eyes. Then, with a chirping screech, it hurled something. A fat, oversized acorn whizzed through the air, spinning toward us.

  —CRACK!

  A searing green bolt shot past my head, leaving a streak of heat in its wake. I barely had time to register it before the Tufftail’s perch exploded into splinters, the branch disintegrating into ash. I whirled, as did Bromm. Veldrin stood there, smirking way too proudly. His fingers still crackled with residual energy, his expression downright smug. Bob, however, was starstruck. His little beady eyes shone with admiration, his tail gave an approving twitch, and, most alarming of all, he let out a deep, pleased grunt. Then, without hesitation, he walked straight up to Veldrin and nuzzled his leg.

  Bromm’s face went pale. “Oh, no.”

  Veldrin, now looking incredibly pleased with himself, scratched Bob behind the ears. “Ah, see? A creature of refined taste.”

  Bromm just slowly exhaled.