Tinywen, Tinywen, tiny little thing. Part I

Mom always said that I was tiny enough to sleep on her palm. She used to sing and tell stories when I was a child. We didn’t know that my life would be a story too. But not like those nice fairytales with princesses and knights and happy endings.
My life became a horror story.

I don’t know how old I was when the Bogeyman came to take me away. I know I was very young, that I could walk and talk and sing like my mother. But I was too small to understand, that the man with the gray robe and cold smile was evil. Heartless. Dead from inside. Dead.

We were wandering in the woods with my parents. Dad said that it was a perfect day for a family picnic. He was carrying me on his strong arms and my mother walked next to us, a beautiful golden lyre on her hands, smiling her gentle smile. A large and sharp scythe hanged on my dad’s back, and I knew I was not allowed to touch it. I asked my dad to put me down, because I wanted to walk by myself. The grass tickled my small feet and air was warm. I followed my parents, but then I saw a nightingale in a tree. It was so beautiful and I stopped to look at it. It sang beautifully, but somewhat unhappily. Suddenly it seemed to fall asleep and dropped on the ground. I gasped and ran to the tree. The nightingale lay on the grass, still and quiet. Dead. Then I heard the voice of the Bogeyman.

“What are you doing here, tiny little thing? And all by yourself.” I turned to look at the man who stood in front of me. He was taller than me, of course, and scary despite his pointy ears, similar as mine. As I glanced around, I noticed, that my parents were gone. I was alone, alone with the strange man. Then the man followed my gaze and smiled. “Your mother and father are no longer with us, girl. Now I will take care of you. And you will obey me.” Without giving me the change to say anything, he took my arm and dragged me away. And then I noticed that his hand was nothing but bones.

Then I think I went unconscious, because I can’t remember anything about the journey to the Bogeyman’s home. The house was on a hill, and it was the darkest and gloomiest I had ever seen. He took me inside and into a big, dark and cold basement. During those years I learn to know every spot in that basement, but the first thing I noticed was the piles of books and strange instruments all over the cellar. The cellar was dismal, but it became my home for the next 75 years.

“I don’t need that one anymore”, he said with a cold voice, full of apathy and spite, and nodded towards a small elven woman on my left side. I was surprised, because I hadn’t noticed her before. She was pale and emaciated, obviously mistreated and possibly violated. She opened an eye, and I noticed that she was missing the second one. I couldn’t understand. The Bogeyman walked towards the woman and I saw that she was afraid of him. And so was I. The Bogeyman stood there quietly, pondering something. Then he said something with a strange language and the woman started to scream in great pain. I covered my ears and squeezed my eyes shut. I tried to hum and rock myself calmingly like my mom used to do, but I couldn’t ignore the coldness that surrounded me. The picture of her harrowing wince remained on my mind, and so did the terrified, echoing cry.

When I opened my eyes, the Bogeyman stood before me and stared down at me. He smiled, but the smile was horrifying, cold and heartless. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t dare. The Bogeyman told me to be a good girl, and then he left me alone with the woman. I shivered and crawled next to the woman. I studied her and she stared at me with empty eye. Gently I closed her eyes. She seemed calm, but felt cold as ice. She was beautiful, reminded my mom. I was alone, and I was scared…

… so I lay down next to her, nestled close to the corpse of that elven lady, and I hummed to her till I fell asleep.


The next morning the Bogeyman came downstairs to the cellar and said that he had a gift for me. He made me to undress the cold and already stiff woman and put on her old, ragged gray gown. It was so long, that I couldn’t walk without stumbling. Then the Bogeyman took the body and dragged it upstairs and left me alone. After hours of maybe days he came back and handed me a white lyre. It was different than my mom’s lyre, and every time I played it, it sounded like someone cried.

It was not until years later when I realized, that the lyre was made out of a bone.

---

The Bogeyman wrote:

*written with perfect handwriting in Silvanesti* 15th of Autumn Harvest 282 AC I have finaly given up on trying with the worthless woman, she had no potential for anything and was the biggest disappointment that I have ran into these past years. I can’t understand what made me even try with her this long. Her eye did turn out to be interesting after all but I had to let her go. I wonder why they scream so much every time they are set free? I would imagine it to be relieving experience. I visited the borders of my so called homeland once again and was able to receive some wine. Even though my deep hate for my kin I must say, they are the only race on face of Krynn to master the art of making the perfect wine. This time though I caught something much juicier also. I happened to run into a elven family and the daughter, perhaps around 5 years old seemed perfect for my upcoming experiments. When you reach out for godhood, why should you settle with materials less than perfect. All in all, it took just one spell to drive the childs attention away from her parents as my faithful pixie slaughtered her parents, leaving the mutilated bodies hidden in long crass. The thought of them never having a proper burial almost makes me smile. Anyhow, the child was unaware of this and was easy to drag away without anyone noticing. Who would miss her with her family gone? I’m eagerly waiting to see what potential is buried behind those deep, black eyes that almost remind me of the Devouring Dark looking down on us ever night. Zarnon

The Bogeyman wrote:

3rd of Spring Dawning 290 AC I have started my experiments with the girl they call Tinywen. I believe she has potential to be a success finally. Yesterday she didn't obey me so as a lesson I lashed her back with few flames. Seems, as if the pain awakens emotions in her and make her cry. Fascinating. I couldn't stand to hear the sobbing for the rest of the evening so I locked her to cellar again. Test subject seems to have learned her lesson. Zarnon

_________________
~ Lily Derinus, former Highmaster the Dragonarmy
~ Tinywen Devine, Bard of Branchala
~ Evey Lache, young red-haired rogue
~ Saaga Neri Cadaverous, Magus of the Devouring Dark
~ Thomas Lache, serious business

Friends come and go, but epix are soulbound.

Tinywen, Tinywen, tiny little thing. Part II

I tried to count days, weeks and months. Soon it became too hard. I couldn't even say what year it was. I didn't know my age anymore. I spent my days in that cold, dark basement and I learned to read, to write and play my bony lyre. Sometimes the Bogeyman let me go outside or walk around his house, but he was always with me. Eventually I started to think that being alone in that basement was better than be under his observing eyes. It was like he was studying me... making notes of some kind.

When I was old enough, he started to make his experiments. I wish I couldn't remember those abysmal moments in his basement laboratory. I didn't understand what he wanted and he punished me often. I became his guinea-pig, the research subject. And at the same time I absorbed his knowledge. I was the Bogeyman's reluctant pupil.

After years, after decades, after hours of pain and agony, studying and reading, I had a birthday. It was my first birthday after my parents deaths, and I didn't even know it was my birthdate. But the Bogeyman said, that it would be a special day. He brought me a new gown, gray as the old one, but clean and softer. He made me dress it and then follow him. At the first time he took me into his chamber. It was comfortless room with big bed. I realized that it was my first time sleeping in a real bed. I had no clue what he was thinking about.
He took me next to him and wrapped his bony, deathlike arms around me. I was terrified...
We stayed there for a while, completely still. I could feel my heart beating, but not his.
Then he leaned closer and whispered to my ear. His breath smelled death.
"Tinywen.... Oh, my dear Tinywen. You are so warm. Too warm. And too alive. For now."
I lied still, didn't dare to breathe. I saw the silver moon through the blackened window. And then I felt he grabbing my arm and dragging me back downstairs, and again he abandoned me to the basement.

"Too alive. For now."

It was the last time I saw the silver moon...
I saw it again in my dream. Protecting me...

Tinywen, Tinywen, tiny little thing. Part III

Next twenty years I lived in that basement. I was not allowed to leave it. I slept, ate and washed myself there.
And he was always there, keeping an eye on me.

Then came the day of my 80th birthday. The day I don't want to remember. The day I don't want to talk about.

The Bogeyman wrote:

357 AC Today I was ready for the final test; could a living organism be driven to state of undead without killing it. I succeeded. Seems as if magic had peeled the skin and fless off of the test subject and her left arm was left with nothing but a bone. Miraculously the arm still works. Everyone attempting on doing this operation, beware. The situation is extremely bloody and seemed to be painful. Prepare extra clothing for yourself, cover floors and walls and get the subject gagged before starting. Zarnon *this is the final marking of Zarnon's notebook*

The day when I killed the Bogeyman

* * * * * *

Afterwards I stood with bloody dagger on my bony hand and stared at the body. It did not move. It did not breathe. First time I felt I was free. I left everything there, except that dagger. I ran, and I ran. I didn't know where I was going, but it did not matter. I found my place.
At the graveyard of Palanthas I found my grave to be I knew there I was supposed to be.
For I was not alive anymore. I had became faulty. One of then. Those who whisper in my head.
And I didn't want to live anymore.

But then He came. My guardian...

* * * * * *

I know my life seems to be quite normal nowadays, but you have to understand something...
You can never kill something already dead.

No, my little darling, you cannot kill the Bogeyman,
Every time you do it, he comes back knife in hand.
If you try to hide, find you he will,
Try to be faster than the Bogeyman you can not kill.

Tinywen Devine

_________________
~ Lily Derinus, former Highmaster the Dragonarmy
~ Tinywen Devine, Bard of Branchala
~ Evey Lache, young red-haired rogue
~ Saaga Neri Cadaverous, Magus of the Devouring Dark
~ Thomas Lache, serious business

Friends come and go, but epix are soulbound.