by Susan Harper
The cheering stopped, and everything was quiet until Rosemary and the safety witch at last stood up after collecting themselves, and there was a second wave of excited cheering and celebrating. Wysteria’s home team was going to the finals!
Monica, Holly, and their familiars followed the excitable Mona down to the field where they met up with Deimus, who was jumping up and down, hugging and laughing along with his teammates. They had lifted the bruised and battered Rosemary up on their shoulders and were chanting, while the werewolves on the team howled. Trixie, the female dwarf on Deimus’s team, shouted over the team’s cheers, “Party at the hobbit holes!” which was met with much enthusiasm.
The next thing Monica knew, she and her friends had made their way to the nearby forest in the midst of a hobbit village. There were a number of bonfires set up, and spiked pumpkin juice was passed around. Even though the team had left the town, Monica could still hear excited chants from all over Wysteria. The town was ecstatic. Monica could not even remember the last time Wysteria’s Romp-A-Room team had made it to the finals.
The hobbits, friends of Trixie’s and all thrilled to be hosting the victory party, came flooding out of their homes to serve dinner and drinks. Some even whipped out flutes and played upbeat tunes that resulted in some of the more excitable players hopping around the bonfires and singing and dancing. “This is so much fun!” Holly exclaimed, teetering a bit after having tried some hobbit drink that wasn’t sitting well with her.
“You all right?” Monica asked, amused.
“I’m seeing spots,” she admitted.
“Yeah, most non-hobbits have at least a light aversion to pickled berry snaps,” Monica said. “That’s hobbit booze, by the way.”
“Eww,” Holly grumbled, shaking her head.
“It’ll wear off if you don’t drink anymore,” Abigail said. “Idiots—getting so excited over such a silly sport.”
“It’s fun, you little downer,” Monica said, and she heard fireworks being shot off in the distance. “It’s friendly competition. Sports are a fun way to bring the community together.”
Rosemary walked by them, limping slightly and gripping another teammate’s hand in the midst of her laughter. “Nice play today, Rosemary!” Monica said.
The witch turned, smiling at Monica. “You’re…Mona’s sister, right?”
“That’s right,” Monica said. “And this is my friend Holly. She’s still learning the rules of Romp-A-Roo.”
“How do you not know the rules to Romp-A-Roo?” the warlock with Rosemary asked.
“I was raised in the mortal realm,” Holly said.
“But still?”
“By mortals,” Holly explained further.
The witch and warlock let out a loud “Ohhh…”
“Well, this is Leopold,” Rosemary said giddily, tapping his chest. “He plays first green.”
“First green?” Holly asked.
“The green podium furthest from the visitor’s side is where he stands at the start of each play,” Monica explained.
“Oh, so that’s how you refer to positions,” Holly said.
“Other than the goalie—that’s just goalie,” Rosemary said.
“Mona told me she went on a double date with you two last week,” Monica said.
Leopold smiled. “That’s right. Good player. Good team captain. I was shocked at the number of non-wizards he and the coach brought on at first, but dang! I take back my skepticism.”
“Exactly how unusual is it for non-wizards to play? I remember seeing Trapper the centaur play the last time I went to a game,” Holly said.
“Poor Trapper,” Rosemary said, shaking her head in memory of that terrible last game of his. “Well, it’s not too unusual anymore. But most teams are at least two-thirds wizard. Our coach is a sprite, we have three werewolves, a dwarf, and a selkie—that only leaves three warlocks and two witches. It’s a pretty unique makeup. Trixie is the first female dwarf to ever play professionally, and Clowdia is the first aqua-mystic ever to play period.”
“Well, I just love it,” Holly said. “I’m all about diversity. So, if you don’t mind me asking, can you tell me who plays what positions?”
“Let’s see…Gale, the redheaded werewolf over there, she’s our goalie. Does a heck of a job. Clowdia, the selkie, gorgeous girl, Ida the werewolf, Trixie the dwarf, and myself are all blue podium players. I’m the jumper.”
“Yeah, I saw that,” Holly said.
“She means she can start play at any of the blue podiums while Clowdia, Ida, and Trixie have assigned blue podiums where they have to start play. Rosemary can start play on any of the three blue podiums, sharing a podium with one of them,” Monica explained.
“I usually start on the middle podium with Trixie—more room standing next to a dwarf, as you can imagine,” Rosemary laughed. “Then that leaves the guys. Deimus plays fourth green podium, he’s also the team captain, and I told you that Leopold is first green. Jonathan the warlock and Bolt the werewolf over there with the green stripe in his hair, they play the center two green podiums.”
“Thanks for that,” Holly said. “I’m still learning!”
“Always glad to see a new enthusiast,” Rosemary said, and after a moment, she and Leopold scurried off to spend some alone time together.
The music was still going, and now that Holly’s head was a bit clearer, they headed over to one of the bonfires where Deimus was re-telling the story of their latest victory. “And then, did you all see Rosemary? What a shot!” he exclaimed. “Makes the goal while falling! She had to be twenty feet below the goal, and she still made it!”
“You’re the one who passed to her,” Gale, the werewolf goalie, said. “You’re one heck of a team captain. Where’s the coach at?”
“Right here,” the small sprite said from right beside Gale. Her wings fluttered, and she flew right next to Deimus, hovering near his face. “And she’s right! You’re one incredible team leader. I’m so impressed. You’ve formed quite a team here, Deimus.”
“Couldn’t do it without you, Coach,” Deimus said, and all the team players who were still around cheered.
There was suddenly shouting from the opposite end of the village. Monica and Holly exchanged glances before both instinctually going toward the noise. A group of hobbits were gathered around a single hobbit hole, all looking quite flustered and alarmed. “Who did this?” one of them asked. “Why would you do this?”
“It is Cinur, isn’t it?” asked another.
“Cinur?” Monica asked, glancing over the shoulders of all the hobbits who had gathered, and sure enough, she saw the discomfiting symbols of the Cinur language—the secret language of the cult known as Remembrance.
“What does it say?” someone asked. “Does anyone read Cinur?”
“I know someone who does,” Monica said, and shouted for Abigail.
Abigail hurried over, looking a bit alarmed that Monica was calling for her. The black cat jumped on a nearby rock, trying to assess the situation as all the hobbits looked painfully on edge. “What’s wrong?” Abigail asked, but then she spotted the red symbols. “Oh!”
“Can you read it?” Monica asked.
“Um… Hold on…” Abigail stared at the symbols for a while, looking slightly strained. “Yes, it’s a warning.”
“A warning!” one of the young hobbits shouted. He stood upright. “This is my house! What are they warning me about? It is Cinur, isn’t it?”
“It’s definitely Cinur,” Abigail said. “Ugh, I am not fluent at all… Warning you about your…chicken?”
“Chicken!” he yelped.
“Nope, property,” Abigail corrected.
“My property?” he questioned.
Monica observed the home for a moment, taking note that it was the furthest from the center of the hobbit village. “Did you recently build?”
“Yes,” he said. “I just finished up with the roof last week.”
“Ah, okay, I see,” Abigail said. “Looks
like Remembrance is warning the village not to build any closer to the edge of the forest… They seem worried about you…” Abigail bit her tongue.
“About what?”
“Their words, not mine…but infecting the purity of nearby wizarding communities,” she said. “In other words, they feel that your home was built too close to a predominantly wizard town.”
“This— This is my property!” he exclaimed. “If I wanted to purchase a home in the middle of their town and build there, I would!”
“I believe that is what they are concerned about,” Abigail said. “They’re…wanting you to know your place as, and this is their words, as a lesser breed.”
The hobbits all let out worried shouts. Monica and company had only recently learned that Remembrance, a very old and formerly thought extinct cult, had reemerged into the shadows. It seemed now they were getting bold. A messenger was immediately sent to gather local authorities, and soon the whole forest and the surrounding towns were being searched.
The festivities halted for a moment, and everyone gathered around the largest bonfire, all whispering about Remembrance and any rumors they had heard about the group as the authorities searched the surrounding area. After nearly a half-hour, they heard the swooshing of broomsticks in the distance as well as a number of blasts from powerful spells being shot off. The witches and warlocks in the group all drew their wands, encouraging less powerful beings to remain behind them in the event a fight broke out with a secret cult member. But there was no need. A group of witch and wizard officers appeared, a young warlock standing with them with his arms bound at his sides with a glittering, magically-summoned rope. He snarled as they marched him forward. One of the witches shot up green sparks from their wand to signal to the rest of the search party that the culprit had been captured.
“Noah?” the hobbit whose home had been vandalized stepped forward. “You did this? I know you! You’ve joined Remembrance? I thought of you as a friend!”
“I thought of you as nothing more than an amusing stray,” Noah snarled. Everyone gasped as one of the witches from the hunting party waved her wand in his direction, removing his voice.
“He confessed rather quickly,” the witch said. “He was quite proud of his graffiti.”
A wizard stood outside the hobbit hole, attempting to cast a spell to remove the paint for the rather upset hobbit. “He used some sort of spell when he put the paint on the door. He’s going to have to replace the door.”
The hobbit swore under his breath, but he thanked the authorities for their swift action. The arresting wizards told them that everything was safe now and to continue with their festivities—they had done a thorough search of the forest and surrounding area and were confident that the young warlock had acted alone. They flew off with the boy, Noah, on broomsticks, and though it took a bit of time for the shock to wear off, the party continued late into the night, their spirits all a bit lifted knowing that a member of Remembrance had been captured.
3
“Remembrance,” Deimus said with absolute disgust. “That group… I remember my grandfather telling me about them.”
The party was still in full swing. There was still dancing and music, and Monica and her sister, along with Deimus, Holly, and the familiars, were seated by the fire. Bolt, Ida, and Gale—the werewolves on the team—were seated together, a bit shaken up by the Remembrance fiasco. “We’re all sure there aren’t any more Remembrance people roaming around these woods?” Ida asked, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears anxiously. As it was far from the night of a full moon, Ida and the other werewolves could practically pass for mortals or wizards—not that that stopped them from being nervous.
“Are you three all right?” Mona asked. “The hobbits were the ones targeted tonight, and you three are acting like you’re frozen to your seats with nerves.”
Bolt, Ida, and Gale exchanged glances for a moment before Gale finally spoke. “Two weeks ago, during the full moon, a werewolf was killed. It was a fairly young werewolf, and they’re sometimes known to go a little mad during their transition. It was written off for a while as self-defense until someone noticed the Cinur tattoo on the assailant’s wrists, and he later admitted to murdering the werewolf youth by luring him onto his property with food. They thought it was just a random act, but these incidences keep popping up all over the place. There’s been a few more warnings sent to werewolf packs.”
“Mine received one last week,” Ida said. “Threatening to do harm specifically to the children in the pack. It was horrid, and the authorities found nothing and were unable to learn who sent the letter.”
“I’m so sorry, Ida,” Deimus said. “I had no idea. But you don’t need to worry here. You’re surrounded by friends. And I’ll personally see all three of you home tonight.”
Bolt smiled. “We appreciate that, Deimus. We’re a bit defenseless right now. The middle of the lunar phase is our weakest point of the month.”
“All the more reason to be so impressed with your performances at today’s game!” Deimus exclaimed, and the three werewolves laughed a bit at this, eventually drifting away from the fire, feeling reassured by Deimus and more inclined to join in some dancing.
“They’re not the only ones worried,” a soft, soothing voice spoke, and Clowdia slipped into one of the now empty seats by them.
Monica smiled at the beautiful woman, the selkie. Monica did not know many selkies. She was gorgeous, as Monica had heard most were. She could see that Holly was rather transfixed by Clowdia now that she was up close. Everything about Clowdia from her voice to her appearance to the way she carried herself was mesmerizing. It was hard to believe something so lovely and delicate-looking had become a professional Romp-A-Roo player.
“Are you worried, Clowdia?” Mona asked.
“What’s she got to worry about?” Trixie asked. “She’s listed as a desirable by Remembrance. Dwarves are listed as worthy of genocide.”
“Desirables?” Holly asked.
“Yes, because becoming slaves to a bunch of pure-blood-loving wizards is just the future I want,” Clowdia snapped, then glanced at Holly. “Remembrance calls some mystics desirables, meaning we’re pretty enough to keep around so they can gawk at us while we do their bidding. It’s disgusting, and to think that there are members of this group right here in Wysteria.”
“I’m sorry, Clowdia,” Trixie said. “Didn’t mean it like that. I just mean you probably don’t have to worry about being jumped in the street.”
Clowdia remained seated, her arms crossed, and Trixie joined them, intent on showing Clowdia she hadn’t intended to sound spiteful. Eager to change the subject for Trixie’s benefit, Holly looked at Clowdia and asked, “So, how does it feel to be the first selkie to ever play Romp-A-Roo? Trixie, you’re the first female dwarf, right?”
Clowdia smiled. “I’m just thankful to Deimus for filing to grant my kind permission to play. Most aquatics are still not permitted, though it is rather hard to imagine a mermaid flailing about on one of those podiums.”
A few of those around the fire giggled. “Yes, I suppose that would be difficult to accommodate for,” Deimus said.
“But there really was no reason for selkies to not be permitted,” Clowdia said. “Since we can shapeshift to humanoid form, it makes us perfectly capable of inland sports. I feel like the expectations are rather high.”
“Same,” Trixie said.
“You’ve more than proven yourself, Trixie,” Clowdia said. “Never seen a more aggressive and agile Romp-A-Roo player.”
“Thanks!” Trixie said.
“Do you all realize how big of a deal our team going to the finals is going to be?” Deimus asked with a grin. “Whether we win or lose on the first day, it’s going to be an international sensation! The team with the sprite for a coach made up werewolves, a dwarf, witches, warlocks, and a selkie! This is more than just about winning a game for Wysteria. It’s going to make groups like Remembrance look like backwards fools. No doubt th
at had something to do with Noah targeting that poor hobbit tonight—because we were all here. Remembrance thinks of this as an embarrassment, but I call it progress. This is one of the best teams Wysteria has ever seen, and I can’t wait to see how we do in the finals!”
“Could you imagine if we actually win at the finals?” Clowdia said, giggling. “Going to the internationals?”
“Wysteria has never been to the internationals,” Trixie said. “But if anyone can do it, I bet this team could.”
Jonathan, one of the warlocks on the team, came marching up the fire with a smirk on his face. “So, Clowdia, I don’t know what’s going on, but Leopold is looking for you.”
“Looking for me?” Clowdia asked. “What for?”
“Um…” Jonathan cleared his throat, removing his smirk. “He just dumped Rosemary.”
“What?!” Mona shrieked. “They’ve been dating for years!”
“Oh no!” Holly said. “What happened?”
“Yeah, seriously,” Abigail said. “Rosemary and Leopold couldn’t keep their hands off each other ten minutes ago.”
“Apparently, er…” Jonathan now looked as though he regretted being the messenger. “Apparently he’s in love with Clowdia.”
“What did you do, bat your eyes at him, Clowdia?” Trixie joked. “That selkie charm… It’s just like they say, huh?”
“Shut up,” Clowdia said, standing up. “I’ll go talk to him… Idiot…”
Trixie laughed and trotted after Clowdia and Jonathan, evidently eager to see how this conversation turned out. “What happened?” Holly asked. “What did Trixie mean?”
“Selkies, unintentionally of course, tend to have a sort of mystical infatuation aura that affects men around them,” Monica said. “Leopold probably just let himself stare at her too long. He’ll get over it in a few hours.”
Deimus shook his head. “Rosemary is going to want to kill him by tomorrow, though.”
“Have you ever stared at her too long, Deimus?” Mona asked, and Deimus’s cheeks turned red.
