Chapter 3: With Peace comes a New…Witch? (3)
A silence grew with tension, as the mage slowly closed his eyes, his mana spread beyond the old hut, across his garden, reaching out into the nearby forest. He searched, his senses attuned to any sign of trouble. His heart hammered in his chest, his breakfast forgotten. It was not before his sight was set on the sky, that he finally, calmly opened his eyes.
"Pippy." Demond called out, his voice firm yet calm. The parrot, who had been quietly watching the exchange, fluttered over to him, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "I thought we had no visitor today."
Pippy looked at him, his expression was that of a saddened child who had just realized their playtime was over. "Old Man! Outside! Danger! Death!"
Then as if in hesitation for his master's caution, Pippy stated again. "Stay in your house! Stay in your house!"
The old man gazed at the parrot with a mix of amusement and concern. "Death you say?" He leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully. The pixy's light grew fainter, her fear palpable in the still air of the kitchen.
"Right." The old man stretched his limb, as if the so-called death outside was just another mischievous pixy that needed to be shooed away. He stood up, his knees crackling like dry twigs. "I need to reply to my dear daughter. Peace banquet isn't really my thing but..."
He petted the parrot, who seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation and flew to his shoulder, her eyes darting to the door, then back to him. The pixy hovered near the window, her glow dimming to a faint blue as she peeked outside, her wings beating a frantic tattoo against the stillness of the room.
"Pixy." The glowing, mischievous creature looked at him with wide, terrified eyes. "It would seem our guest wishes for a...quiet meeting. Would you mind telling your friends in the forest to scurry away for somewhere safe? Let's see...right, the Cave for the Resting Wolves would do. Tell them it is I who sent you."
The pixy nodded vigorously, and with a flash of light, she disappeared, leaving behind a trail of shimmering dust that danced in the shafts of morning sunlight. Demond watched her go, his expression unreadable. He turned to Pippy. "Now, bird. Time to prove your worth. Get my staff, a pen and some papers. We'll play scribe and save the World once again, won't we?"