It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman on a Friday night must be in want of a date. But on this particular Friday night Ruby Shaw, single woman, had a date. Not an ordinary date, with a clumsy conversation and sweaty palms. No, tonight's date would be what Ruby privately termed a "nirvana date." This type of date involved her sofa and a fluffy blanket, cheese and -- most importantly -- a new book with a handsome lead.

Nirvana.

Ruby had reached page ten of A Duke Worth Loving when her sister Opal burst through the door of their shared apartment. Opal, whose idea of nirvana typically involved crowded places and male attention, took the book from Ruby's hands and announced, "We're going on a date. Get ready."

"I have a date already," Ruby said, reaching for the book. "His name is the Duke of Bedford and I'm afraid he's going to have to fight a duel."
Opal tutted, dropping the book onto the armchair. "We're going on a date," she repeated more firmly. "Tad finally asked me out, but he's bringing his roommate. So you're coming too." 

"A blind date?" Ruby recoiled, drawing the blanket up to eye level. "That's the worst kind."

"No, the worst kind is when he brings his mother along and she cuts his steak and feeds it to him." Opal said, peeling the blanket from Ruby's fingers. She paused in thought. "Or maybe it's when his wife interrupts dinner and dumps a plate of chicken parmesan on your head. As if it were my fault -- I didn't know!" 

Ruby grimaced, recalling the fallout from these dates. Sometimes she wondered why Opal persisted in dating, after so many bad experiences. But what Opal perhaps lacked in success she made up for with stubborn persistence. Which meant she ignored Ruby's objections now and pulled her from the sofa, propelling her down the hall to her bedroom. 

"Tad is not married and his mother lives two hours away so I think we're safe," Opal went on as she picked clothes from the wardrobe. She tossed a dress, three hats and a sweater at Ruby. "He's completely normal and I'm sure his roommate is too."

Noticing Opal's choice of words, Ruby narrowed her eyes. "You haven't met his roommate."

"Not yet," Opal replied brightly. "But Tad says he's great."

Ruby had a spine. She stood her ground with impatient customers at the bank, and she argued regularly with their landlord about the water pressure. She'd even talked her way out of an unwarranted parking ticket once. But Ruby was also, by nature and habit, a good sister.

Which was why, one hour later, she found herself far away from the Duke of Bedford, her cheese plate, and nirvana. Her lazy ponytail had been transformed into a neat braid and the flannel pajamas had been swapped for denim, boots, and an oversized sweatshirt of Opal's that read Hello Pumpkin.

***

The pumpkin proved to be prophetic, as Opal drove them to a popular pumpkin patch on the outskirts of town. Even in the parking area Ruby could hear the overenthusiastic twanginess of banjo music. Her boots crunched over the gravelly dirt as they walked toward the entrance and their planned rendezvous.

"What are we doing here?" Ruby asked. "You hate being outdoors just as much as I do."

"It's autumn! People go to pumpkin patches."

Ruby shot her a look.

"Okay, it was Tad's idea," Opal confessed. "He wanted to do a haunted house, since it's Friday the thirteenth, but I refused. This is our compromise so you're welcome."

Ruby sighed, thinking of the Duke and the untouched wedge of Gruyère. "What's his name?"

"Tad," Opal replied, craning her neck to see over the crowd.

"I know that, I mean his roommate."

"Oh, um, Norman or something. I think."

Ruby sighed again. The Duke's name was Frederick. He stood a strapping six feet tall with swooping dark hair, and he had a penchant for defending a woman's honor in duels. Opal suddenly waved her hand, calling Tad's name.

Tad, it turned out, looked almost identical to Opal's previous boyfriend, right down to the black hoodie and piercings. Ruby braced herself afresh for Tad's roommate, Maybe Norman. Tad said something to Ruby, jerking his thumb in the direction of a man standing several yards off, his back to their group.

"What?" she asked. His words had been drowned out by the banjos, laughing children and loudspeaker announcements.

Tad clearly didn't hear her either. he draped an arm over Opal's shoulders and led her off into the crowd. Neither glanced back at Ruby.

Ruby, very good sister that she was, had been in this position before. Opal would likely not turn up again until closing time. But tomorrow she'd apologize and do something nice to make up for tonight's neglect, like clean the bathroom or do the grocery shopping. Tomorrow, Ruby would be glad that she could read A Duke Worth Loving instead of scrubbing the bathtub. But for no, she was on her own.

Well, not entirely.

Forcing her feet to move, Ruby maneuvered through the crowd toward Maybe Norman. He stood by the cider booth, evidently studying the sign. Stepping up beside him, she half shouted over the noise, "Are you Tad's roommate?"

Startled, Maybe Norman turned toward her. The light from the booth window hit him full in the face and he blinked, stepping sideways. Ruby's rapid assessment told her he did not have a penchant for tattoo parlors, like Tad, but neither did he have a penchant for fighting duels. His reedy, neat appearance implied he had a penchant for sitting in quiet rooms, drinking tea and possibly making those models of ships in bottles.

Straightening, he pushed his glasses up his long nose and said, "Yes. Yes, that's me. You must be Opal's sister."

Aha, she thought -- he didn't know her name either. "Yes. My name is Ruby."

"It's very nice to meet you, Ruby," he said, holding out a hand to shake hers. "I'm Arthur."

Not remotely close to Norman then.

"Do you want a cider?" he asked, gesturing vaguely to the booth. He wore a gingham checked button-down shirt, under a navy sweater. His jeans, she suspected, were ironed, and a layer of dirt had already settled on his smooth brown wingtips. There was nothing wrong with any part of his appearance, but there was nothing exciting either. No leather riding boots, no waistcoat. No pistol primed for a duel...

"Maybe later," she said. Now Opal had gone, Ruby found her good nature ebbing away. She didn't want cider or a date or this silly pumpkin sweatshirt -- she wanted a plate of cheese and the Duke of Bedford. She wanted nirvana.

"Later then. Promise," he said. He blinked, fidgeting with his glasses again. "Um, shall we walk about?"

With no better idea, Ruby agreed. Privately she wondered what mischievous whim of fate had made him and Tad roommates.

***

The next hour was, in Ruby's estimation, one of the most painful of her life. And this was taking into account all the other dates Opal had dragged her on. There had been the guy who sneezed every thirty seconds, the one who excused himself for the bathroom and never returned and, of course, the silver fox who turned out to be the father of Opal's date.

One infamous date had asked her intensely personal questions over drinks ("What is your bra size? Just to be clear?"), but Arthur seemed unable to ask her anything at all. He answered her questions as briefly as possible, never turning them back on her. Eventually she managed to learn he was thirty-three, worked in the local university's accounting depatrment and had a pineapple allergy.

Ruby nearly broke a sweat prying this very ordinary inromation from him and when the conversation lapsed back into silence, she left it that way. If he did not want to talk, she would not force him. At this point, she could only hope the heavy clouds would lead to rain and an early closure, allowing her to escape home to the Duke and her plate of cheese.

The corwd at the pumpkin patch changed as the hour wore on. The children filtered out, their faces grubby with dust, and floods of teenagers poured through the gate. They were even louder than the children, and Ruby's head began to ache. She and Arthur drifted fromt he patch's festive epicenter to the quieter edge. As they walked alongside the corn field, the banjo music grew fainter and the crickets grew louder. 

"Do you want to try the maze?" Arthur asked, halting at the entrance to the corn field. A weathered wooden sign arched over the gap, bearing the word enter in flaking red paint. Ruby studied the narrow trail leading deeper into the field.

"Are there people inside that jump out?" she asked, searching for another sign with further details. 

"I don't know."

The banjo band struck up an energetic new song -- something about punkins -- and Ruby grimaced. People began clapping along and her grimace deepened. Ruby liked her music to have some dignity. A group of teenagers barreled past, knocking into her shoulder as they laughed and hollered dares at each other. Suddenly the corn maze sounded like an oasis.

"Sure," she said. "Let's try it."

The corn did indeed do a marvelous job of muffling the other sounds of the pumpkin patch. Even the crickets were silent as Ruby walked along. Arthur murmured something and when she asked him to repeat it, he cleared his throat and said, "I said the weather has changed. It was cloudy before. Wasn't it?"

Ruby looked up and, sure enough, there was not a cloud in sight. "Yes," She replied, confused by the change and disappointed by it too. No rain after all. "I've never seen the weather turn so quickly."

"Very strange."

Arthur cleared his throat again as if he might elaborate, but he only slid his hands into his pockets. They walked on, and Ruby's thoughts, seeking consolation, wandered to duels and Camembert. The confines of the path forced her closer to Arthur, their arms occasionally brushing. He apologized every single time.

Now the clouds had fled, it was a truly perfect autumn evening. Crisp but not cold, breezy but not windy. With twilight settling in, the last streaks of orange in the sky faded to navy and black, pricked with stars. Grudgingly, Ruby admitted to herself that there were worse ways to spend an evening than walking through corn with a dull but polite companion.

Arthur seemed content to let her navigate, turning whichever way she happened to choose. The breeze ruffled the corn, rattling the dried-out leaves. There did not seem to be any costumed people lurking in the maze. In fact, there did not seem to be anyone else at all. 

Ruby began to say as much when Arthur, too, spoke. Their sentences collided, each apologizing and urging the other to speak first. Ruby, tired of being the one to break the silence, pressed him to speak.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. 

Surprised, Ruby halted at a fork in the path. "For what?"

"I'm not very good at this."

"At...corn mazes?"

"No, at being social," he confessed, adjusting his glasses. "I don't get out much. I definitely dont' date much. And I really only know how to talk about numbers and percentages. I don't um..." He threw up his hands. "I'm sorry."

"Oh," Ruby said, her sympathy sparking despite her recent resentment. She'd had many awkward dates, but no man had ever taken the blame for it before, let alone apologized for it. "That's all right. We're managing fine."

Arthur chuckled, running a hand through his brown hair. "That's very nice of you to say."

"Shall we keep going?" Ruby asked, gesturing to the path. She looked back to it just as a dark shape flitted down one branch of the path and vanished. Startled, she flung out a hand and hit Arthur in the shoulder. "Sorry," she said. "Sorry, I saw someone on that path and it surprised me. I was starting to think we were alone in here."

As if to confirm the truth, the sound of a child's laughter drifted back to them from further down the trail. Not alone, then, and apparently not all the children had left for the evening. Still, something about the sound and the shadowy figure made Ruby uneasy. She didn't like being uneasy. 

"Well, let's keep on then," Arthur said after a moment. They walked forward, Ruby taking the path the running child did not. Around them the corn stalks shifted gently. More stars appeared as night fell in earnest. Finally Arthur observed, "It's quite dark."

"Yes."

"I've never much liked the dark." Coughing, he added, "Ridiculous of me."

A crow burst out of the corn, flapping over their heads and cawing as it flew higher. Ruby jumped a second time, knocking against Arthur again. They watched the bird soar over the corn, coming to rest on a scarecrow that jutted above the field. It wore a floppy tattered hat and a ragged shirt, like most scarecrows. But it had a jagged black grin on its face, with narrow black eyes like sideways triangles.

"That fellow's a bit...well...a bit sinister looking," Arthur said in a low voice. "Don't you think?"

"Yes." Ruby laughed -- nervously. "I think we might have made a mistake, doing the corn maze."

Arthur nodded. "Let's go back to the entrance. We haven't gone very far, we can find it."

But Arthur's prediction proved to be false. After twenty minutes of back tracking, they found no entrance. "I swear it should be right here," Ruby exclaimed, waving her hand at another dead end. "I remember passing this broken stalk here when we first came in." 

Arthur walked to the end, where Ruby insisted they had entered and peered through the corn, pushing aside stalks. "I don't see anything but corn," he said finally. "And I don't hear any music either." 

"I was sure we came this way."

"No matter," he said, walking back to her. He smiled and Ruby, feeling rather down cast, couldn't help noticing he had a good smile. Nice, even teeth, and a dimple in his left cheek. She felt herself smile back, a little. "It's a maze -- it's meant to be confusing. We'll find the exit. I'm sure it won't take long."

Buoyed by his optimism, Ruby nodded and they set off again through the gloomy corn-lined paths. They had taken two turns when children's laughter bubbled up behind them, footsteps pattering on the dirt. 

Ruby and Arthur turned at the same time, readying to either move aside or be barreled into. But the path was empty. The footsteps raced on ahead of them, the laughter fading around a corner. 

"Arthur," Ruby choked out. "What just happened?"

"I...I don't know." Arthur looked down the path one way, then the other. She could see him swallow before he repeated, "I don't know."

They stared at each other for a moment. A crow broke the silence and Ruby turned toward the sound. Above the corn she saw the scarecrow again, with its jagged grin. Straw stuck out of the tattered hat, from beneath the draping collar and at the wrists, tied to the metal frame. Another crow landed on one arm.

Frowning, Ruby turned back to Arthur. He smiled, not as broadly as before. "Probably a hidden speaker or something. Let's keep going."

***

Arthur, Ruby soon realized, became more talkative when he was nervous. He said more in the next ten minutes than he had the entire preceding hour, telling her where he'd gone to college, how he met Tad (a "roommate wanted" ad) and that he once broke his toe in a wallpapering incident.

If Ruby had not surmised that nerves made him chatty, Arthur soon made that clear when he said in a rush, "I'm sorry for talking so much. I talk when I'm nervous, and I'm nervous because, well, part of me thinks we're trapped forever in some kind of corn maze nightmare."

He shook his head, stopping. "I shouldn't have said that. My mother always says attitude is everything. This isn't the time or the place for---" He swallowed. "---panic."

Ruby opened her mouth to offer something consolatory, but he added in a whisper, "It's just...I keep feeling that we're being watched. Do you get that feeling too?"

"Yes," she said honestly. Her spine had been shivering for the last few minutes, but she hadn't wanted to mention it. Mentioning it would mean acknowledging it. Acknowledging it would make it real. She looked over her shoulder, at the empty path, and heard the corn rustling behind her. Not in the breeze, but as if it were being moved. Pushed aside by someone or something. 

She turned so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet and stared into the sea of corn that had been at her back. The newly risen moon cast a pale light on the corn and threw long, dark shadows too. The rustling faded, and Ruby stepped back, bumping against Arthur. "Sorry," she murmured, moving away.

"I heard it too," he said. "I thought I saw something moving, but it must have been a trick of the light."

Ruby licked her lips and swallowed. She looked over at Arthur, his face draped with cold moonlight. He really did have a good nose, she thought. A Roman nose. Ruby had always been susceptible to a well-shaped nose. Thank heavens he was not a Tad. Somehow, she felt a little calmer just looking at Arthur, even though he was so clearly unsettled himself. 

Her gaze drifted away from his face and she gasped, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the corn at his back. "Arthur," she whispered. "Look."

The scarecrow loomed over them, not far from the path. Four crows perched on its arms now. The face, black paint on straw-stuffed burlap, looked positively wicked at this proximity.

"Wasn't the scarecrow way back there?" Ruby whispered, pointing in the direction they'd come.

"Maybe there's more than one," he said. Clearing his throat quietly, he added, "There are probably workers out here in the field, moving things about. Most corn mazes are made to be spooky past dark, right? And it's Friday the thirteenth too."

"Do you really think that's all it is?"

"It's the only explanation that makes sense."

One of the crows tilted its head, glaring at Ruby with one shining black eye. When it cawed, she jumped. "Arthur," she whispered. "I think we should keep walking. Maybe a little faster?"

Arthur only nodded and together they left the scarecrow and walked briskly down the trail. Ruby strained for any hint of sound or glow of lights from the pumpkin patch. Some sign -- any sign -- they were going in the right direction. But she saw only endless rows of corn and heard nothing but the faint stirring of the stalks, the quiet beat of their feet against the dusty earth. 

Coming to a turn, she looked back. The scarecrow stood sentinel in the same spot they had just left. Except -- Ruby coked down a whimper -- it had somehow picoted its stake to face their altered direction. Its grinning face watched her.

Someone had moved it, she told herself. Some pumpkin patch employee crouched there in the corn, rotating the scarecrow's stake and laughing silently at her fear. The thought injected her with a fresh sense of bravery. The laughter came from hidden speakers. Human hands turned the scarecrow about. 

Still, Ruby did not like being uneasy.

***

As they continued through the maze, Arthur fell silent again. Ruby could feel the fine, dusty dirt settling on her skina nd clothing. Silently she vowed  to be a less good sister in the future. Opal had probably reached her own nirvana by now, half drunk on hard cider making out with Tad behind the lavatories. Ruby kicked a rock from the path, mourning her unfinished cheese plate.

A burst of giggling broke the silence, coming from the corn on either side of them. Hidden speakers or not, it startled Ruby and she grabbed Arhtur's arm as they both staggered to a stop. Whispers joined in the giggling, the soft words too quiet to distinguish. Ruby heard at least three different voices, coming closer then backing away, drifting around them like moths circling a light.

One voice cut through the others abruptly, in a louder whisper. Beware, it said. Ruby gripped Arthur's arm harder.

Beware the Straw Man.

The giggling raced ahead and quickly faded. Behind them, there came a snapping sound from further out in the field. The dry snap of  breaking corn stalks. Ruby swallowed hard, unable to speak. She scanned the rows of corn, not sure she wanted to see the source of the sound, but neither could she ignore it. Another stalk broke, nearer.

The warning repeated in Ruby's head -- beware. She didn't have to wonder who the Straw Man was...

Arthur let out a strangled noise, half curse and half whimper. Ruby followed his line of sight ahead, where the path diverged into three. She barely held in a shriek when she saw what disconcerted him.

 A small dark figure, the size and shape of a child, stood at the fork. But this shadow child shape was featureless, like a silhouette, and hazy at the edges. A living shadow. It gestured to them, urging them to follow. Then it turned and raced down the patch going left.

"Arthur," she choked out. "Is this really happening?"

"It seems so." He glanced at her, his gaze immediately shooting somewhere behind her. Eyes widening, he said, "We've got to keep moving."

Ruby still had her hand on his arm, and when he moved forward, she hurried to keep pace. As Arthur made to follow the path going left -- the path the shadow had taken -- Ruby looked back. The Straw Man stood in the field, not six feet behind where she had been standing.

Arthur warlked rapidly now, and rRuby didn't ask him to slow. If only she'd stayed home, with the Duke of Bedford and her smoked gouda. As if his thoughts ran on similar lines, Arthur said, "I planned to stay in tonight. I had a new book."

"I had a book too," Ruby said. "And cheese."

"I love cheese," Arthur said fervently, possibly trying to distract himself and think about anything that was not this corn maze and what seemed their impending doom. "Tad kept eating my good cheese so I started buying cheap stuff and hiding the expensive kinds."

"I call that decoy cheese," Ruby said, thinking of the generic cheddar she kept at the front of the fridge, while her Manchego and Havarti hid in the old yogurt container.

"Decoy cheese," Arthur repeated, flashing a smile when he glanced at her. "I like that."

Whispers rushed through the corn alongside them, the shadow appearing again at another fork in the trail. Beware said the voice again. Beware the Straw Man.

"I didn't mean to sound like I blame you for this," Arthur said as he hurried to follow the shadow. He spoke louder now, but Ruby could hear the scraping sough of the corn leaves. "I think we both wish we were at home reading right now."

Ruby wished she didn't notice him glance over his shoulder, and then his sharp intake of breath and quickened pace. She couldn't bear to look back, but neither could she resist it, even knowing what she would see. The Straw Man, in the corn behind them. There was no explanation for it. No workers in the corn, no speakers or elaborate hoaxes. Ruby glanced at the sky, with its cold stars and full moon. Whatever was happening, it was real.

"You're very brave, Ruby," Arthur said as the shadow waved them forward before running on and vanishing again. "If my sisteres were here, they would have gone to pieces ages ago. If we have to be trapped in a corn maze nightmare, I'm glad to be trapped with you."

Ruby couldn't help smiling, even with the corn rustling and those whispering voices swirling around them. Beware the Straw Man. "How many sisters do you have?"

"Two. I'm in the middle. They used to sit on me and call me their Arthur Sandwich."

"Opal and I have an older brother," Ruby said. "He still likes to sit on us when he gets the chance."

"We're going to get out of here," Arthur said earnestly. "We'll get out of here and eat cheese and be sat on by our siblings again, Ruby. I promise."

Except they rounded a corner  -- as the shadow had advised -- and found themselves facing a long straight path with no turn.

A dead end.

In the beat of total silence that followed, Ruby heard her breathing, loud and quick. "Arthur," she bgan, not knowing how to end the sentence. 

The shadow materialzed at the far-off dead end, beckoning. A flurry of whispered voices swept around them, agitated and urgent. "Arthur," Ruby repeated, her voice a strained whisper.

Beware the Straw Man!

Ruby made the mistake of looking back. There, out of the corn and on the path, stood the Straw Man. His skeletal, ragged form hung on the t-shaped metal frame, which balanced perfectly in the dirt. He had towered over them in the corn, but now stood at their height. Somehow this made him infintely more terrifying. He had been tracking them through the corn but now he met them on their level.

Ruby glanced at the shadow as the whisperes filled her head. She and Arthur were trapped, caught between this dead end and the Straw Man. The four crows lifted off from his arms, flapping into the air but staying close, cawing triumphantly.

And then he moved. The Straw Man moved. A hand twitched, the boney fingers stretching. Then the other hand. His arm began to slide free of the frame. Ruby's mouth fell open, a scream stuck in her throat as her thoughts raced. He was climbing down, lowering himself from the post.

The whispers consolidated into one word, spoken by many: Run.

Arthur seized Ruby's hand and without a word, he broke into a sprint, away from the Straw Man and toward the shadow waiting at the dead end. Ruby raced alongside him, heart hammering as the scream stayed lodged in her throat. She couldn't look back, but she didn't need to. The Straw Man rushed up behind them like a wave washing toward the shore, drawing closer with every second.

And there was nowhere to go -- they were heading straight for a wall of corn. Arthur glanced back, blanching as he increased his pace. Ruby's breathing grew ragged with fear and exertion.

The toe of Ruby's boot caught on a rock and she went sprawling, hand tearing from Arthur's grip. Landing hard on the dirt, she looked up and met Arthur's gaze. He would leave her, she realized. He would escape, leaving her to be killed or swallowed by the Straw Man. Maybe he would turn her into a crow or perhaps he'd feed her to the birds instead.

But Arthur ran back, grabbed her wrist and hauled her to her feet, just as something she could only describe as a tentacle bgan coiling over her ankle. Tugging her foot free with a shriek, Ruby raced on with Arthur. Their hands grew slick with sweat, but he held hers tight, fingers woven between hers.

The dead end drew close, and so did the Straw Man. Ruby felt him at her back, a malevolent energy nipping at her heels. If she looked back, she didn't know what she would see, but it would be infinitely more terrifying that his straw and burlap form.

"Arthur!" She squealed.

"Don't let go!" he shouted, squeexing her hand tighter.

In front of them, the shadow vanished. They reached the wall of corn and plunged into the stalks. The dry leaves were stiff, the close stalks harder to navigate than Ruby anticipated, but Arthur pressed forward without releasing her hand. Crows cawed overhead, and the crack of corn stalks sounded like breaking bones to Ruby's ears. The Straw Man closed the gap between them.

All she could see was a sea of corn. She couldn't even see Arthur, thanks to the leaves and stalks. She could only feel his hand, warm against hers. A cacophony of sound rose behind them -- a mad tangle of frenetic whispers, cawing birds, snapping stalks and a grinding, growing sound beneath the rest.

And then, all at once, they broke through the corn into a world of string lights, carnival games and banjo plucking.

Momentum had Arthur toppling forward, tripping and falling flat to the ground. Still holding his hand, Ruby followed after, crashing against him as the dirt plumed and swirled around them. Ruby blinked, coughing as she struggled to sit up. After the darkness of the corn maze, the string lights were blinding and the banjo music -- blessed banjo music -- was deafening. The air smelled of fried food, thick with laughter and happy voices. No birds. No whispers.

Ruby looked back the way they ahd come and saw only the wall of the corn field. She could not even see where they had broken through. No scarecrow rose from the field. No crows flapped above the stalks. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and she looked up. The sky was clouded over, not a star in sight.

Arthur, still prone in the dirt, asked faintly, "Are we dead?"

"There you two are!" exclaimed a familiar voice.

Ruby looked toward the sound, blinking again in the light. Opal stood over her now, Tad beside her with his arm still draped over her shoulder. "We've been looking everywhere for you," Opal went on. "Where have you been? And what on earth are you doing down there?"

"We fell down," Arthur said, rolling over and staring up at them.

When no further explanation came, Opal said, "Well you both look disgusting. Have you been playing in the dirt? Ruby, don't expect to get in my car without dusting off really well."

"This place closes in an hour -- we'll meet by the entrance then, yeah?" Tad said. "Sooner, if it rains."

Not waiting for agreement, Opal and Tad moved on. Ruby brushed dirt from her sweatshirt; the dusty dirt almost totally obscured the words Hello Pumpkin. Dirt coated her face and tangled hair, the braid wholly unraveled. She spat dirty saliva onto the ground and wiped her mouth with a dirty hand. Arthur didn't look any better. His glasses had a thin coating of brown on the lenses and his hair stuck up sideways. His navy sweater and jeans were now brown. 

"Oy, get a move on!" ordered a brusque voice. An employee stomped toward them, his expression the very definition of irritated. "This is a family place. No shenanigans."

"That's not--" Arthur began. Disentangling himself from Ruby, he got to his feet and said angrily, "We nearly died in your insane corn maze tonight!"

The man shook his head. "Don't be daft, we've got no corn maze this year."

"There's corn right there," Arthur protested, pointing to the corn field.

"Yeah and what you can't tell from out here is that most of the field was ruined with a blight," the man snapped. "There's no corn maze."

"Excuse me, but we've been stuck in it for the last--" Ruby glanced at her watch as she got to her feet. "--two hours!"

But the man pulled a face and waved them off. "I don't have time for this. Clear off. I catch any more shenanigans and you're out of here for the rest of the season."

"But--" Arthur began. The man didn't linger, tromping off toward the pumpkin displays. Frowning, Arthur said to Ruby, "Come on, we'll show him the entrance and prove him wrong."

Except they found no corn maze entrance. They reached the exact place where they had entered the maze, where the entrance sign had arched over the opening. But the corn field had no sign and no opening. They both peered through the rows, pushing the stalks to the side to get a better view of the field's interior. There was no path, and many of the stalks were stunted and weedy. Arthur looked from the corn to Ruby and back again.

"I don't know what to say," he said. "It was real. Right?"

"Yes," Ruby said. She reached up and tugged a glossy black feather from beneath the neckline of his sweater. A crow feather. "It was definitely real."

Thunder rumbled again, dry and low. The clouds were thick, the lights bright and the music vibrated through Ruby's bones. Yet there had been no sign of any of these things inside the corn maze.

They stood in silence for a moment, each contemplating the question of where they had been and how. Not to mention the narrowness of their escape. The banjo band played on, teenagers laughed by the carnival games and the nearest loudspeaker announced a car in the lot with tis lights left on. Ruby had never been so grateful for a crowded, bustling, obnoxious place. Survival was its own kind of nirvana.

"I drove here," Arthur said at length. "I can take you home. This has probably been the absolute worst date of your life."

For a moment, Ruby thought of her cheese plate and her booka nd felt tmepted. She could shower, put on her pajamas and pretend none of this had happened. Arthur, this awkward, filthy accountant, was certainly no Fredrick, Duke of Bedford. Then again, the Duke was only words on a page. Arthur stood in front of her, real and solid. She felt calmer, just looking at his dirt-smeared face. 

"Actually," she said finally, "I've had worse. And didn't you promise me a cider?"

Arthur smiled, his teeth extra white next to his dirt-browned skin. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he said, "That's true, I did. Shall we then?"

"Yes, please."

Still smiling, Arthur turned in the direction fo the cider booth. Ruby, remembering how he'd pulled her to safety when he could have run, slipped her hand into his. Arthur's smile broadened and he squeezed her hand. Perhaps nirvana, she thought, could be shared.

"I want to hear more of your thoughts on cheese," he said, "More of your thoughts on everything, really."

"And I want to know what book you were planning to read tonight."

They passed a large trash can. Ruby tossed the crow feather into it.

Dale straightened his bow tie and cleared his throat. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous. This date wasn't going to be all that different from the rest. At least, not really. 

He finally worked up the courage to knock on the door.

Knock-knock.

It only took a minute for Poppy to open the door.

"Hello, Dale!" she said eagerly. Poppy wore her usual work clothes and crooked smile, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail.

"Hello, Poppy. How is Miss Julietta today?" He fidgeted slightly.

"Today is one of her good days. I'll go fetch her."

Dale nodded and waited outside. Julietta was very particular about who she let into her home, so he made sure to stay put on the welcome mat.

Just a few minutes later, Julietta and Poppy appeared around the corner.

Dale sighed. Julietta was beautiful.

The smile lines around her eyes made them sparkle. Her silvery-white hair, once darker than the night sky, was wavy and rested on her shoulder. She walked slowly -- she had to use a walker now -- but gracefully toward him. She wore a red dress. Red was her favorite color. It was his favorite, too.

"Julietta, this is Dale," Poppy said as they neared the door. "Do you remember Dale?"

Julietta frowned at Dale. "No, I...I don't know him." Dale's heart sank.

"Dale is a friend of mine. He's very nice. I asked him to take you to lunch today. Is that okay?"

Dale gave Julietta a little wave. Something about the gesture calmed Julietta down.

"Yes. I think that is okay."

Poppy beamed. "Wonderful! I'll help you get stttled in the car."

Dale helped Julietta over the door frame and gently guided the walker to the car. Poppy helped him get Julietta into the passenger seat before waving them off.

"Have fun, you two!"

Dale waved to Poppy as he backed into the street. Then he turned to Julietta.

"Now Julietta, Miss Poppy says that Indian food is your favorite, is that right?"

***

Julietta is quiet on the drive to the restaurant. But Dale expected as much. So he talks and talks -- he tells Julietta about his daughter, Mariana, and about her job at the hospital. She is helping so many people. He talks about his grandson Gabriel, who loves animals, and about how his parents might get him a puppy this year. He talks about the walks he went on this week and all the beautiful birds he saw and heard. He is really into birding right now.

All while he talks, Julietta just sits and listens. But she doesn't seem to mind. And though Dale always tries to be a safe driver, he can't help but sneak a glance over at Julietta once or twice to see her smile. Did he mention hers is the most beautiful smile in the whole world?

Once they get to the restrautan, he leads her to the red booth seat in the back corner. It is his favorite spot, and he knows she will love it too.

"This is cozy," says Julietta, after Dale has helped her into her seat.

"It is, isn't it?" Dale says. He nods at the young waiter who has just brought their menus. The waiter recognizes Dale right away.

"Hello, Dale! And Julietta, how are we today?" The waiter smiles at the two of them. Julietta frowns. She doesn't know how this boy knows her name.

"We're just fine, Stephen, thank you. How is school going?" Dale and Stephen chat for a few minutes while Julietta looks over the menu. She decides Dale must know Stephen's family somehow. Maybe they are neighbors or something.

"Excuse me," she interrupts them. "I haven't been here before. Do you have any suggestions?"

Stephen smiles at her, but he seems sad. "Of course, I have a feeling you'll love our butter chicken. It's one of our most popular dishes."

Julietta nods. "Okay. I'll get that. Thank you."

Dale hasn't even opened his menu, but he orders the same thing. "Oh, and a mango lassi, please." He hands their menus back to Stephen. Julietta swears she sees Stephen wink at Dale.

"What's that you ordered?" Julietta asks.

"Oh, it's a drink. It's kind of like a smoothie, I guess. I'll let you try it first when it comes."

***

Julietta tries Dale's lassi the second Stephen sets it on the table. She's sure she's never drank something so delicious in her whole life.

Julietta's eyes go wide. "That's so good!"

Dale beams. "Well, you have it then. I'm glad you like it!"

"Really?" says Julietta, still sipping on the lassi.

"Of course," says Dale. "It's for you." He takes a bite of his butter chicken and tries to smile while chewing politely. He's only partially successful.

Julietta blushes a little. Dale seems so sweet. Very talkative, though. She enjoys listening to him as he keeps rambling about his family and his birdwatching. His stories and his voice are so comforting, they almost feel familiar to her. Before she knows it, the food is gone and the cups are empty and it's time to leave.

Dale pays for both of their meals and Julietta sees him slip a twenty-dollar bill to Stephen before they leave. So he's sweet and he's a good tipper? Julietta likes Dale more and more.

"Tell your folks I say hi, alright?" Dale says as Stephen starts to clean up their table.

"Sure thing, Dale. They'll be glad to see you again soon, I'm sure! You two have a nice day!"

Dale helps Julietta to her feet and drags over her walker to her. He leads her back out of the restaurant and to the street. 

"Hey Julietta, do you mind if we walk the long way back to the car? I know my old knees could use a little exercise."

"Okay," says Julietta. She's trying to remember the car they took to get here.

They walk past some of the shops, peering through the windows as they go. Dale keeps one hand on Julietta's walker the whole time, keeping both of them steady.

There's a flower shop that smells of lavender and roses and a bookstore with the cutest black cat in the window. There's a small cafe that Julietta swears she's been to before. And in between the cafe and the stationery store just beyond, is a photo booth.

Dale stops to look at it. "Hey, have you ever seen one of these photo booths?"

Julietta frowns. Has she ever seen one before? She isn't sure. "I...I don't think so."

Dale adjusts his glasses and then his bowtie, as he keeps staring at the thing.

"Well, what do you say? Do you want to try it out? It might be fun."

Julietta shrugs. "Why not?"

The two of them meander over to the photo booth and squeeze onto the seats. Dale seems to know how this one works, and after popping a few quarters into the machine, they start posing for photos. Julietta giggles. This is fun.

By the time they made it back out of the photo booth and back on their feet, the photos had already printed. Dale holds them out proudly for both of them to see.

"There's even two of them, so we can each take one home."

Julietta takes one and admires it for a minute, and even when Dale insists on carrying it for her, she refuses and grasps it in between the walker and her thumb.

On the walk back to the car, Julietta shyly asks if they can stop in the flower shop. The scent wafting out the shop's front door is so inviting, and she can't resist walking around inside for just a minute. 

They step inside to admire the fragrant flowers. Julietta takes her time, trying to see all the different arrangements and bouquets around the shop. Dale disappears for a minute while she is admiring some colorful hydrangeas and comes back moments later with a bouquet of lilies in his hand.

"These are for you," he says nervously. Julietta smiles and smells the bouquet. It smells like home.

"Lilies are my favorite! How did you know?"

Dale chuckles. "Lucky guess, I think."

***

Before long, it's time for Dale to drive Julietta home again. They've been out for a little while, and he knows she doesn't always have a lot of energy these days.

He helps her back into the car and makes sure she has her photo and lilies before setting off again. This time though, Julietta is the one doing the talking. She keeps raving about the Indian food and how kind their waiter was. She talks about how fun the photo booth was and describes all the lovely flowers she saw at the flower shop.

Dale thinks he's never felt happier.

They pull into Julietta's driveway and he sees Poppy watching them through the front window. She's waiting for them. Like always. She steps outside just long enough to help Julietta out of the car and grab the lilies from her hand. 

"My, these are lovely! Looks like you two had a fun day!" Julietta blushes. She definitely had a fun day. "I'll dgo find a vase for these while Dale helps you inside."

Poppy disappears back into the house, and Dale guides Julietta's walker to the front door.

"Thank you for lunch," Julietta says.

"Thank you for a fun day," Dale replies.

"It was fun, wasn't it?" Julietta's eyes are sparkling. "It is good for me, I think, to get out of the house."

"Yes," nods Dale. They've made it to the front door. "Maybe, if you'd like, we can go out somewhere again tomorrow?"

"I'd like that," says Julietta. "I like being around you."

Dale smiles, and all the nerves come back. I like being around you, too." Poppy meets them at the door and ushers Julietta inside. Dale feels on top of the world.

He can't wait for their date tomorrow.

***

Dale was back at Julietta's house the next morning. He adjusted his bowtie. He knew he had just seen Julietta yesterday, but he still felt nervous.

Knock-knock.

Poppy took a little longer than usual to answer the door.

"Come in, Dale," says Poppy softly. Dale knew immediately that something was wrong.

"Poppy, where's Julietta? Is everything okay?"

Poppy gave a pained smile and gestured for Dale to sit on the sofa. "I'm sorry I didn't call sooner, but I knew you would come this morning. You always do."

Dale nodded and shakily sat down. He had knocked on Julietta's door every morning at 10:30 for the past five years. This was the first time Poppy had let him in. 

Poppy swallowed. "Julietta passed in the night, Dale. She was gone before I showed up this morning."

Dale felt weak. His head swam and his heart beat too fast. Julietta...Gone?

"But..." Dale started.

"I know," said Poppy. "I'm so sorry Dale." She grabbed the old man's hand. He was sweating and shaking and frowning. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that yesterday had been their last day together. Their final date.

Yesterday had been their wedding anniversary. Dale and Julietta had been together for fifty years. Because of her memory loss, she may not have remembered a single minute of the last five of them. But Dale remembered every single moment. Every single day.

Every day, he picked her up. Every day they got Indian food for lunch at her favorite restaurant, and he ordered a mango lassi and gave it to her before ever taking a sip -- because he knew they were her favorite. And every day, they made a stop at the photo booth and the flower shop before he dropped her off at her home at the care center. It was her favorite date they had ever been on before her memory started to go, and he wanted her to relive her favorite day every day, even if she wouldn't remember it.

Julietta was everything he wanted in life. She had been his best friend, his love, the best mom to their children, the one who supported him through promotions job loss, the one who was by his side through family tragedies and sicknesses. The last five years were the least he could give. In fact, he flet he owed her at least ten more.

Poppy took his arm and walked him back to Julietta's bedroom. He sat in the armchair next to the bed where she was resting peacefully, her silvery-white hair framing her face just like her veil did on their wedding day. She was still just as beautiful. He took her cold hand in his for one last time and immediately began to sob.

Dale didn't know how long he sat there like that. He didn't care. What would come next? What would he do now? What would he do without their lunch dates and the flowers and the photo booth? What would he do without Julietta?

But eventually Poppy came back into the room to check on him. She held in her hand a large envelope, contents bulging.

Dale started rambling as soon as he saw Poppy. "D you think it even meant anything to her, all those date she can't -- remember? Did she love me? Was she happy?"

Poppy handed Dale the envelope. He opened it slowly and almost sobbed when he looked inside. The evelope was full of dozens of photos and dried flowers. Julietta had saved them as mementos from their dates. Every single photo they took at the photo booth together for the past five years was in that envelope. Every single one.

And in every single photo, he saw that sparkle in her eyes -- the one she had when she was beautifully, indescribably happy.

"She may not have remembered you," Poppy said, eyes wet, "But she was so happy. And she sure loved you."

Dale's vision blurred with tears. "And I sure love her too."

Henderwil's eyes blinked open. He groaned as he realized it was now the start of another excruciating day. The flickering stars he glanced at out his window served as a reminder that he was going to be the only one out-and-about at this time of night.

Henderwil was precise.

Which is why he didn't even need to check his pocket-watch to know that it was 2:25. He always awoke at 2:25. It was his routine.

From there, it took him 10 minutes (on the dot) to get out of bed. Like always. After that, he completed his scheduled morning routine. His morning routine of getting dressed in a simple brown tunic, eating mushy leftovers for breakfast, yelling at the crickets chirping outside his window, neglecting to water his (now dead) house plants, and grabbing his most important tool, took exactly 25 minutes. Not a minute more, not a minute less.

Henderwil was very precise.

He always followed his routine.

He never strayed from his routine.

"And I can't start doing it now." Henderwil grumbled as he opened the front door to his house and stepped into the cold darkness.

***

Deep in the land of Tempermist, there were many changes going around. From wonderful new recipes for biscuits, to mages uncovering a spell that could turn someone into a radish. There's no doubt the world around was sloly becoming different.

One of the most important changes that took place (though maybe not as important as the better biscuit recipe, because everyone knew that that was the discovery of a century) was within the Queen's elite force of warriors.

The Queen's Regiment was being reassigned to different positions among the regions.

Yora practically bounced in excitement. She couldn't wait for this opportunity. Standing among the other warriors in her previous assignment, she tried to contain her bubbly anticipation at the thought of a new mission. She'll get to meet new people, see new places, get to know her new coworkers, defeat more of those monstrous Grinders...the possibilities are limitless!

Yora softly squealed as she saw the high official in the distance, coming in with the new assignments. Though everything about getting reassigned sounded great, in Yora's opinion the best thing about a new position is the chance to help people. That's why Yora became a part of the Queen's Regiment in the first place! She wanted to help people and become a role model to young children. She wanted to be a hero, so she became one.

"Hey, Yora?" 

Yora turned to see her colleague and fellow warrior Frell address her. "Yeah? What is it?"

Frell smiled sheepishly and rubbed a hand on his neck. "Well, the likelihood of us being in the same position after this reassigning is very slim." He took a deep breath. "So I wanted to tell you something before we head our separate ways."

Yora smiled. It's nice to know that Frell cared about her enough to want to talk with her before they part ways. "Yeah? What did you want to say?"

Nothing could've prepared Yora for what Frell said next (nothing of course except for a preparation spell cast by a skilled mage, but Yora didn't know any mages nor did she know she needed preparation). "I just wanted you to know that I think you're really annoying. There's nothing fun about having a job where you destroy Grinders all day, yet you act like it's the best thing in the world. You don't have to sound so bubbly and happy all the time, it's quite a bother." 

Yora's jaw dropped as she stared at the uncaring face of someone she thought was her friend. They would have sat there in awkward silence if the sounds of the high official slowly approaching and the other warriors whispering to each other hadn't broken it. Frell smiled and slightly bowed his head, "Farewell, Yora. Hope our paths never cross again."

Before he could leave Yora grabbed his arm and pulled him back over she wasn't going to let him leave without sharing her opinions.

"I...I..." Yora didn't know why her mouth wouldn't work. She didn't want Frell to leave with the last laugh, but she couldn't think of anything to say... "Well...I-I-I... You...you're really lazy!"

Frell rolled his eyes, "yes, I already knew that."

"A-a-and...uh..."

Frell groaned and rolled his eyes. "Spit it out!"

"And you still owe me 10 coins, you uhh....never paid me back for that one time."

That was when Frell's face dropped. Success! The argument probably would have continued if the high official hadn't shown up and started giving out reassignments. Suddenly Yora's attention was turned to the officer as he shouted out the new positions.

"Grends, you're reassigned to Polun, near the town Reide. Tillin, you're reassigned to Loh, near the town Onwisp. Frell, you're reassigned to Tolik, near the town Thumberd."

Yora almost gasped in horror as she heard the other warriors congratulating Frell. She tunred to look at him and saw him smiling wider that she's ever seen him smile before.

Of course he would be smiling, she thought to herself. he just got assigned to the most 'Frell-like' place in the world.

The Tolik region was known for its gorgeous fruitful trees scattered among grassy fields, beautiful meadows, and glossy clear rivers. The village of Thumberd was considered one of the happiest in the land and the best places to get sales on roasted potatoes and boot straps. But that wasn't what made the place so enviable to the other warriors.

The Regiment's primary job, or rather their ONLY job, was to defeat these monstrous creatures known as Grinders in order to protect the country. Grinders, the scaly blue monsters that infect Tempermist at an alarming rate, are the number one cause for death in the whole world (aside from being turned into a radish by a mischievous mage). 

And the town of Thumberd had NONE of them.

None.

Zero.

For 20 years in a row.

No one quite knows why Thumberd is so safe compared to other towns (though some scholars suspect it has something to do with the essence of magic in the area, and the commoners suspect that the cheap roasted potatoes and boot straps take a part in it) but after people started realizing that the Grinders stay away from there, Tolik became one of the fastest growing regions history had ever seen!

And in the cases of the warriors assigned there, it is the easiest and the laziest position anyone could ever have. No monster, no work. And you still get paid.

So of course Frell, the laziest warrior in Yora's opinion (the actual laziest warrior was someone named Portid, but she didn't know that), was the one to get assigned there. Yora rolled her eyes as she could tell Frell was screaming for joy inside his head.

Deciding to ignore Frell for now, Yora turned her attention back to the high official. She stood straighter when she head him say her name. "Yora, you are reassigned to Tolik, near the town of Thumberd."

Yora wanted to scream in complete horror, Frell basically did. "What?!"

After his small outburst, Frell pulled himself together and the high official continued sharing the reassignments. Yora couldn't even hear the rest of his words, she was too distracted by what he said to her. Tolik? Thumberd? Her? Why? Why couldn't she have any other place?

The one thing that semmed to snap Yora out of her head for a bit was when she heard a Frell sign and turn to face her. "Well, this is going to be fun..."

While being stuck in a new position with Frell was annoying, the thing that bothered Yora was much more serious. If Thumberd had no Grinders and nothing wrong with it...

How could she be a hero?

***

3 weeks into the new job and Yora was bored out of her mind. There were no assignments, no people who needed help, and no Grinders.

Yora considered herself quite good at destroying Grinders. Sure they were 11 feet tall and typically take 4 warriors to defeat, but Yora still did a good job with her colleagues. She enjoyed being in the Queen's Regiment and helping people. She enjoyed being a hero.

Thumberd didn't need heroes though.

It hasn't had any Grinder attacks in years, so Yora was forced to do what the other warriors were doing, 'living life'.

Unfortunately, after 4 days of sitting around, taking things slow, and buying new boot straps at half price, Yora officially had lost her mind (officially is a loose term, technically she didn't lose her mind yet, she'd need a permit for that).

So Yora did the rational thing, she tried to convince her commanding official to giver her a new position. But try as she might, Yora couldn't get one. She was stuck in Tolik until the next reassigning. Her superior officer said to consider this new position as a well deserved break, causing Yora to pound her head against a tree and scream, "Why me?!"

Yora hated breaks.  (Which is odd, considering if you ask anyone else in Thumberd, 99% of them would say that they loved breaks. They loved sitting around all day, taking life slow, and buying new boot straps at half price and roasted potatoes on sale.) Yora felt like there was something missing, something that needed to be done. She needed to help someone by doing some grandiose heroic deed. She needed to be a hero!

But so far, the only heroic thing she has done is have normal conversations with Frell without punching him in the face.

So far...

"Isn't this place perfect? We don't have to work, and I still get paid! If I ever had any doubts about joining the Queens Regiment, they're gone now! This place is heavenly!"

Yora rolled her eyes as Frell latched an arm around her shoulder. Not only did she find it odd that the man who called her 'annoying' suddenly grew a keen interest in spending time with her, but he had to get into her personal space?

Yora slid the arm off of her shoulder and continued walking through the crowded marketplace, Frell annoyingly following behind. "Heavenly...really? Because with you here, this feels much more like the other place..." Yora noticed that Frell really has embraced living at Thumberd, so much so that he only wears small pieces of his armor and not the full set. If he ever got caught in a fight, Yora was positive that he would at least lose an arm of a leg.

Frell elbowed her shoulder, once again invading her personal space. "That's actually a good comeback coming from you, I'm surprised!"

Yora herself was quite surprised that she actually gave a good comeback. Where was this 3 weeks ago when Frell called her bothersome and annoying? Maybe if she gave a good comeback then, Frell wouldn't be bothering her now with his happy-go-lucky grin. The only thing that could make a bad day a horrible day, is seeing your rival have a good day.

After a moment of both of them walking in silence, Frell sighed. "I know we don't get along with each other, but even you being here isn't deterring me. This is the best position I've ever gotten, and I won;t let you ruin it."

"How am I ruining it? Isn't your life just perfect?"

"Yeah, but your negative attitude is interrupting my vacation!"

Yora laughed. Was he for real? "Your vacation? This is work, we have a job to do! Why do you have to be so lazy?"

At this point both stopped walking and had a heated argument in the middle of the marketplace. 

"So what if I'm being lazy? There's no work to do here anyway..."

Silence. Yora didn't know what to say. There was no work to do here, and that was the problem. What could she do? How could she be a hero?

Frell sighed and looked down at the floor. "I uhh...I want to say sorry for all those things I said...you know, before we came here. And to uhhh...give you something."

Before Yora knew what was going on, Frell threw something at her. She barely managed to catch the small object before it hit the ground. Yora looked closely at it when she felt her gloves getting warmer. After a quick examination, Yora guessed it was a hot...potato? Before she could ask Frell why in Tempermist he threw a potato at her, he interjected.

"You can eat this wonderful roasted potato and accept my sincere apology!"

Yora blinked. Frell...gave her a potato? As an apology gift? "I..." What would she say? "I accept your apology, I suppose, but you can have your potato back." Yora tried to pass the potato back to Frell. "I don't like potatoes."

Frell gasped and nearly dropped a second potato that he was apparently holding. "Don't like potatoes?! What kind of twisted person are you?"

Yora ignored him and pushed the potato into his hands.

Frell frowned. "And you aren't even going to try it, Ms I -love-doing-dangerous-new-things. You know I spend 6 coins on that potato for you!"

"No you didn't."

Frell groaned. "Fine, you're right. It was just 3 coins and it was buy-one-get-one-free." He took a huge bite out of the potato in his hands. "But seriously, why do you gotta be so grumpy?"

Yora cringed when he spoke with his mouth full. 

"You're just as bad as old man Henderwil."

Yora blinked, "Wait...who?"

"Henderwil. Heard he lives on the outskirts of town. Let's see, uhhh..." Frell moved slightly closer to Yora and she noticed that he was looking all around the market place for...something. "That's him! I think?"

Yora turned in the direction that Frell was pointing and spotted a rough looking old man with white hair and a scraggly beard. He was wearing an oversized brown tunic and carrying an ornate wooden walking stick. But the thing that really caught Yora's attention was his face. He looked like the market salesperson he was talking to had deeply offended him. In fact, he looked like the whole world had deeply offended him. His blue eyes were narrowed in disgust and anger, as he traversed through the crowded market.

Needless to say, Yora didn't appreciate being compared to the bitter old man.

"According to the other villagers, he's always grumpy." Frell explained, "They say that he has a strict schedule and anyone who messes with his schedule gets to face his fury..."

Yora's eyes widened as she turned back to Frell. "Face his fury? What do you mean by that?"

Frell shrugged. "Beats me! I only eavesdropped on the town gossip while buying those delicious potatoes that someone refused to accept..."

Yora rolled her eyes. "Just be happy that you get to eat another potato."

"Oh, right. I forgot about that..." Frell looked to be lost in thought at the idea of eating another potato. "But anyway, from the gossip I heard, Henderwil does some strange things at night."

Yora piqued with interest. "What kind of strange things?"

Frell leaned in closer and whispered. "Illegal things, most likely. Everyone says that he leaves his house at exactly 3 in the morning, every day. No one knows what he does or where he goes exactly, but some people think he's a part of a rebel force that is trying to overthrow the Queen."

Yora stared at Frell, her head filling with thoughts and wonders. Overthrow the Queen? Illegal? 3 in the morning? Henderwil was definitely up to something. But what?

Maybe if she could figure out about this mysterious man and catch a group of criminals planning to overthrow the queen, the she could be a hero! She could finally do something other than speculate how roasted potatoes seem to be getting cheaper and cheaper.

Suddenly Frell shrugged. "But hey! That's just what I heard from the town gossips while I was buying potatoes."

"Ha ha, yeah...hey quick question, where exactly did you hear this?"

Frell stared at her blankly. "Considering I know that you aren't going to buy potatoes, that question makes me kind of nervous."

Yora smiled michievously.

***

Yora looked down at the papers in her hands. After a day of research, she couldn't figure Henderwil out. After talking to the town gossips and other townsfolk, Henderwil seemed to remain a mystery to her.

Apparently he was considered the most grumpy and cynical man in all of Thumberd. With the baker going as far as saying he's the grumpiest in the whole land of Tempermist (though that's not true, the real grumpiest man in Tempermist is named Ulink, but no one cares about him).

Apparently Henderwil also never leaves home without his walking stick. He also has a routine that he follows everyday, and any distraction from his schedule leads to heated words and loud shouting. 

Yora stared at the notes she wrote about him, most important of all was his schedule she deduced.

At exactly 7 in the morning, he would go to the baker's shop and buy odl stale bread. At 7:25 he would go to the marketplace and go to each stall, in order, until he finished shopping at 9. From there he would go back to his house and stay there until the next day rolled around.

The only thing on Henderwil's schedule that didn't make sense, are the rumors that he probably leaves at 3 in the morning to go on a long walk. But where's he walking to? Why?

At that moment Yora decided something very important.

She would find out where he goes.

She would follow him.

***

"So you're going to wake up before the sun even rises to follow that grumpy old man wherever he goes on his morning walk?"

Yora turned to face Frell and smiled. "Yep!"

Frell stopped walking and sighed tiredly. "Why would you do that? Don't you know how dangerous it is to sneak around at night? What if you run into a Grinder? You'll never be able to handle one alone!"

Yora glared at Frell. "Ignoring the fact that you think so highly of my skills as a warrior, I'll be fine! There are no Grinders here even if I wanted them to be."

Frell looked uncharacteristically worried. "You don't have to do this, you know? You've got nothing to worry about, this is your chance for a vacation. There's no reason to be up at 2 in the morning!"

Yora looked past Frell and saw Henderwil stumbling through the marketplace, exactly on schedule according to the villagers. Yora noticed that his face was scrunched up and eyes narrowed in exhaustion. "Exactly...so why is he?"

In response Frelll groaned and walked away. "Whatever. Your vacation, your problem I guess. I'm going to buy more potatoes."

***

Yora always enjoyed a good night's sleep after a long day (something she and Frell somehow have in common, much to her dismay), but Yora is wiling to give up a good rest for the right reasons. Reasons being to catch a wanted criminal, save the Queen from an assassination plot, maybe get a medal of honor, and cure her aching boredom.

So that is why Yora stood hidden behind a tree watching an old man leave his house at 3 in the morning. Despite the darkness that enveloped the night, Yora could clearly see Henderwil creep out of his house and move down a marked path.

The case begins.

Yora stayed a steady distance away from Henderwil in order to not get caught, but it didn't stop her trying to be as silent as possible. Yora inwardly screamed each time her heavy armor clanked against itself. Why did armor have to be so loud?

After following Henderwil for a while, Yora noticed that he stopped next to a large boulder with his walking stick a few times. He muttered something to himself, then he continued along the path. Yora was confused, but nonetheless she continued following.

A couple miles later he stopped by another rock and hit it with his stick. Yora started to wonder if he hated rocks and loved hitting them with sticks.

She continued following him and the same thing happened again, then again. After that Yora realized that Henderwil was walking all around the outskits of the village in a circle. Just what was this man doing?

After following him for a couple hours, Yora thought about giving up and going back to sleep, but she stelled herself. If this man was a criminal, then it was her job, her duty, to catch him in the act. She would not let any harm come to the Queen.

And she would not sit around doing nothing and being bored all day.

She followed close behind as Henderwil appeared to be entering a meadow. It was nice and grassy, with gorgeous blue and purple flowers scattered all about. There were a couple of stray trees for Yora to hide behind, and the dark of nighttime gave her perfect cover as she watched the old man walk further.

Maybe he met with other rebels and this was where the meetings happened? Maybe he hid a weapon among the tall grass? Maybe he--

Yora's thoughts were cut off as Henderwil slowly bent down and plucked a shimmering blue flower from the earth. Yora watched in awe as he straightened himself and stared at the flower. Maybe he was up early picking flowers for a local sweetheart? Maybe he was an avid gardener in his free time?

Maybe he's not the insane rebel assassin she initially thought?

Then, before Yora could comprehend what was going on, he crushed the flower between his hands. The poor petals were almost crying as they floated to the ground. Yora's jaw dropped.

"Nevermind, he's insane. Definitely insane." Yora whispered to herself underneath bated breath as she slowly backed away from where she was hidden behind a tree. Still watching she notices Henderwil picking and destroying another flower. And then another one.

Yora would've screamed if it wouldn't give away her position. She followed a crazy old man of hours just to see him destroy sapphire flowers! She really shouldn't have believed the town gossips. This man was not dangerous, only crazy!

Yora sighed and faced the ground. How could she be a hero now? There was absolutely nothing to do!

Yora's attention was turned to the small blue flower by her feet. It almost seemed to be glowing, and Yora felt an etheral feeling around it. The 5 sapphire blue petals opened up and made it look beautiful.

Yora was determined not to walk out of this pointless quest with nothing, so without thinking, she bent over and picked the flower. Maybe she could sell it to the town florist, considering the lunatic loves destroying these gorgeous flowers?

Yora snuck away as quietly as possible, and would have succeeded at it too, if it wasn;t for the shrieking roar.

What was making so much noise? Yora reached up and tried to cover her ears, but the object in her hand prevented her from doing so. The flower in her hand was growing, and it wasn't a flower anymore...

Yora dropped it and backed away. She watched in shock as it grew dark blue scales and sharp teeth. The creature was now over 8 feet tall and stared at her with fury. Yora could recognize that creature anywhere, considering her line of work.

It was a Grinder.

Yora wanted to jump for joy. Finally, something to do! She could definitely go back to being a hero once she defeated this heinous Grinder!

A loud snarl escaped the monster and it lunged at her with its sharp claws blaring. That's when Yora remembered that it usually takes 4 or 5 warriors to defeat one Grinder. She quickly realized that this might not be a good thing.

Yora jumped to her left and barely missed the Grinder's attack. She unsheathed her trusty sword and slowly backed away as the Grinder turned back to face her.

Yora wasn't planning on dying like this, but what else could she do? The Grinder was getting closer, and there was no way she could handle it on her own.

"CHARGE!!!"

The loud shout echoed in her head as a man jumped on the Grinder's back and stabbed it with a sword. A loud shriek came from the creature as it tried to buck the opponent of of its back.

Yora stared in shock. Who was that? Was that Henderwil? How did he do that?

Before Yora could figure out what was going on, the creature finally succeeded in knocking the man away. He flew backwards and landed rough on the ground. Yora quickly ran over to help him.

That's when she noticed that this man was much younger than Henderwil. And instead of a brown tunic, he wore a single metal chest plate...

Frell groaned as he rubbed his probably aching head. "I really should have worn all my armor..."

Yora would've said that he should always be battle-ready, but she was too happy to care. Frell was here! She wouldn't die, or at least she wouldn't die alone! "Frell! You...here. But why? How?"

Yora helped Frell up to his feet as he sighed. "Figured you'd find some trouble and need backup!" Frell grinned at her mischievously. "But seriously, did you expect me to let you go wandering along at night with a possible murderer? What kind of hero would let that happen?"

Yora wrapped her arms around Frell and pulled him in for a tight hug. "THANK YOU!"

Frell pushed out of the hug. "Thank me after we beat--"

He was interrupted by the Grinder charging in between them. Jumping backward, Yora took up a fighting stance and noticed that Frell was ready too. She charged at the monster and with a swift motion slashed at its scales with her sword. A loud roar escaped and it lunged at her, claws outstretched.

An attack from behind made it growl with fury and turn on Frell. With its back turned on her Yora stabbed its arm and pushed her sword deeper into the beast.

"Yora!" Frell shouted as he attempted to slash the Grinder, only to miss. "We need to fall back!"

Yora tightened her grip on her sword and pushed it further into the wound. "What? Why?"

"Grinders take at least four warriors to defeat! There's no way we'll make it out of this! We don't stand a chance!"

Yora realized that he was right. Grinders are almost impossible to defeat with only the two of them. Pulling her sword out of the creature and running around to get to Frell, she shouted. "But the village is just a couple minutes away. We have to do something!"

"How? We can't do something if we're dead!"

Suddenly the Grinder ran towards them at full speed. It was slightly hurt, but not dead. And it was coming right for them.

There was no way that they would make it out of this.

Yora gripped her sword tighter and took a step forward. If she was going down, she wasn't going down without a fight. She took on a fighting stance as the Grinder appeared right in front of her.

Its claws were inches from her face as it--

"TUN-GERI-SH!"

Suddenly a bright flash of red light flooded Yora's vision and the Grinder that was almost right on top of her is suddenly frozen. Yora looked past its huge form and saw a mage holding his staff directing magic on the creature.

A mage that wore a brown tunic and had long white hair, and a staff that looks an awful lot like a walking stick...

"Henderwil?!" Yora gasped in surprise. He's a mage?

Henderwil groaned. "Can you finish this thing off with your swords? My magic won't last forever."

Yora was as frozen as the Grinder but out of shock and disbelief, not out of mage magic. Frell came foward and delievered the killing blow, causing Henderwil to look on with both disgust and annoyance.

"Great, now I'm 5 minutes behind schedule." Turning around, Henderwil grabbed another blue flower from the ground and destroyed it.

Yora stared at him with shock. "You're a mage..." 

Henderwil didn't answer, he only continued to eliminate the blue plants. After a moment of silence, Frell spoke up, stuttering. "I-I-I heard that m-mages can turn people into radishes. P-please don't do that to me!"

Henderwil groaned and turned to face another flower. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on it." He plucked and smashed the petals. "Even if you two idiots deserve it..."

"You're right." Yora broke out of her trance and took a step forward. Then she realized what she said and chuckled sheepishly. "About not wanting to turn us into radishes, not about us being idiots. Though that might be true..."

"Speak for yourself." Frell muttered under his breath as he folded his arms.

"A-Anyway!" Yora said. "you don't turn people into radishes, you turn Grinders into flowers!"

Yora pointed at Henderwil and he tunred to glare at her, but she remained silent. Yora continued. "You wake up in the middle of the night to destroy the monsters you turned into flowers before the rest of the village gets up!"

"Those rocks around the border must be a protective ward that transforms them." Frell added. "You go to make sure the protection's working and then come destroy the flowers."

Yora took one step closer to Henderwil. "We're right, aren't we? You're not a crazy old man or a rebel assassin, you're a mage who is protecting the village without them even knowing."

Henderwil didn't answer, but the look on his face proved that they were right. Yora realized that she may have misjudged this guy. Just how long has he been secretly doing this? There hadn't been a monster attack in Thumberd for over 20 years...

That's when Yora realized that this guy deserved a medal.

More than that actually, this guy deserved a break.

Yora leaned down and picked a flower and crushed it between her hands, somehow feeling joy as the crushed petals wisped down to the ground. She looked up to see Henderwil staring at her with a look of confusion.

"What? We can't let you have all the fun." Yora smiled mischievously.

"And besides," Frell plucked a flower and crushed it with one hand. "Destorying Grinders is our job."

Frell winked at Yora and she smiled. She tunred back to face Henderwil, who was looking at her with a slight grin. "You're not alone anymore." And while she sait it to the mage, she felt it true for herself as well.

It may not be as adventurous as she was used to, but helping people in any way is always heroic.

And that was enough for her.