It was a calm morning in Baba’s house, if that is even what you would call the giant hollowed out tree. Zvanimir awoke to the smell of a plethora of different herbs entering his nostrils.

It was a pleasant smell by all means, but a fierce one. As if the aroma forced its way into his nostrils so he wouldn’t have a choice but to enjoy it.

“What is that smell, it’s so sweet.”

He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath through his mouth, hoping that the sweet herbs would have a lesser effect that way. He realized his mistake the moment the air entered his mouth and he could feel the intense sensation, as if his mouth had been stuffed full of sugar.

It’s not as bad as the cockroaches at least.

It wasn’t. Few things were.

“Good morning soldier. You have slept in, there are things to be done today.”

Baba greeted him cheerfully, more so than at any point yesterday.

He pushed both of his arms down to lift himself up. That was when he felt the stinging pain.

“Argh!”

The hand which had roots growing into it yesterday was now perfectly fine on the outside, but his bones still ached. It was as if somebody had tied a rope around them and every movement of his muscles made it tighten more.

“That arm will be useless for the rest of the day. That is what you get for tampering with things you do not understand.”

She was right. Zvanimir’s actions were hasty, he hadn’t thought them through. But then again, he had thought few things through since waking up in that tomb.

The roaches could have been poisonous.

The tomb could have been filled with wild animals or beasts that would chew him up.

The small chamber he escaped into while the ceiling was collapsing could have been equally unstable.

Up until he met Baba, he was making stupid decisions. He tried to run from a man on a horse while malnourished. It was one mistake after the other.

Even trusting Baba at first was not something he should have done so lightly. She could have been a threat to him, trying to poison him with her herbs. Really, she still could be if he thought about it.

But there was just something about her. Something that made him want to trust her. It was difficult to explain, but he didn’t feel like she was harbouring ill intentions, at the very least not towards him.

If it really came down to it, he could still try to run away. Wait for her to tell him where the nearest city is and just disappear while she’s busy doing something.

No, that wouldn’t do. She’s an old woman who lives alone in a forest. It would be cruel to leave her like that.

But then again, he knew so little about her. Where was she from? Why was she in this forest? How did she get this tree house? What even was her true name?

All of these were things to be suspicious of, reasons not to trust Baba.

Here Zvanimir found himself at a crossroads, one where his decision would drastically change his fate and, for the first time since awakening, it would be one he would carefully consider first.

“Hold out your finger.”

Baba’s words interrupted Zvanimir’s train of thought.

He looked up to find her holding a bowl of white paste. Coincidentally, the white paste was also the origin of the overwhelming smell that had been filling the tree house since he awoke.

Zvanimir let the thoughts he had previously had flow through him once more before answering.

“What is that?”

Baba held the bowl closer to him so he could take a look.

“It is a medicinal paste created to be applied to your teeth, it keeps them clean and healthy for a long time if used regularly.”

Zvanimir inspected the strange white-greenish paste. He put some on his index finger and studied it, or rather just looked at it very hard.

“You use it like this.”

Baba took some and put it on her index finger as well. She then put the finger in her mouth and began rubbing the paste onto her teeth.

Zvanimir hadn’t noticed until that point, but for a woman of her age, her teethe were nearly pristine. None appeared to be missing and almost all of them were a marbly white, party due to the layer of paste on them as well.

Baba continued to rub the paste on her teeth for another minute, after which she took some water and began to gargle the mix in her mouth. She then swallowed the concoction in one big gulp.

“It usually tastes very bitter, but I added a lot of sweetness to it to make it go down easier.”

Zvanimir looked back at the paste on his finger, which was drooping down his finger and onto his knuckles by this point. He saw no reason not to do as he was instructed, but he was hell bent on being careful.

“And this won’t make my face numb or make me say all my thoughts out loud again?”

Baba replied with a chuckle and a wave of the hand. At this point it really all came down to how much he was willing to trust her words.

He trusted her enough.

With his other finger, he scooped up the drooping paste from his hand and put it into his mouth. While doing so, he noticed his finger brush against something. There was hair on his face.

How am I feeling this only now?

His other hand flew up to touch his chin and lo and behold, a light layer of beard covered most of the area around his mouth and on his cheeks. It was strange, however, he was sure that there was no such thing on him when he felt himself back in the tomb.

“Is something wrong?”

Baba was staring at Zvanimir’s bewildered face as he grasped around his chin.

“No, I just wasn’t expecting to be growing a beard.”

“…”

His words were met by a moment of silence, followed by Baba turning around and searching through her belongings.

After a moment of metallic clanging and shuffling around through a large chest, she turned to face him again and handed him what seemed to be a metal razor.

“Use this if you want, it should take care of it easily. You might want to do something about your hair as well, it will get in the way.”

She was right. He could feel the hair rest on his shoulders and curl around his neck. He hadn’t really bothered to inspect his own appearance until that point.

What colour is my hair even?

He took a strand and pulled it in front of his eyes. It was blonde, not a pure golden blonde, but rather one of those dirty brownish blonde colours. His beard probably matched.

He took the razor, smearing the paste that was still resting on his finger onto Baba’s hand.

“Oh, shit! Sorry about that.”

His head was met with a swift slap.

“Language soldier, this is not a tavern. You will speak properly in my home.”

“Sorry, I’ll watch my language in the future.”

Baba shook her head, but proceeded to take the bowl of paste and hand it to him again.

Zvanimir took another dollop of the paste and proceeded to repeat the process that she had shown him. The paste was definitely more pleasant once it was in your mouth and it did wonders to wash out some remaining bits and pieces of the roaches that were still stuck between his teeth.

At that moment something else occurred to him. It had been at least two days since he had awoken, but aside from the roaches, he hadn’t actually eaten anything and he wasn’t sure if the herbal mix that Baba gave him really constituted food.

Unlike in the tomb, however, thinking of food this time didn’t cause him a surge of hunger, he was actually feeling perfectly fine.

He finished washing out his mouth with the paste and turned to Baba.

“We didn’t eat anything yesterday, did we?”

“Do not worry about that, I made sure you wouldn’t go hungry while treating your wounds. It isn’t a replacement for proper food, but it lasted you the day.”

Another mystery taken care of.

“I will make some porridge today, but until then there is bread and cheese. I also have butter if you want some with that.”

“Do you have cows hidden somewhere around here?”

“I often venture into the nearest village to trade for necessities, it is much easier that way.”

Her words made some sense, but they also made Zvanimir think of how difficult it must be for an old woman like her to do all that on her own. Especially if she had to carry everything by herself.

“Do you have a horse?”

Baba gave him a quick glance and proceeded to avoid direct eye contact.

“Something of the sort.”

“And you won’t tell me?”

“In time, soldier.”

He could take a look for himself later, if she had a steed, it would be somewhere close to the tree house. For now, his plan was to take care of his appearance to whatever degree was possible.

“Make sure to cut your hair outside, I do not want to clean everything up after you.”

Zvanimir’s hair was already clasped in his hand and the blade in the other when Baba said that.

“Of course, I’ll head outside.”

-

Once outside, Zvanimir was greeted by the piercing rays of sunlight that managed to make their way through the dense ceiling. It was a tranquil sight, the rays flowing down like small strings through the branches and leaves of the trees, somehow still managing to illuminate the area.

He walked several steps away from the house and once again grasped his hair as tightly as he could. There was no way of doing it precisely, so he just took as much as he could into a bunch and cut it off.

Most of the hair fell to the ground around him while some remained in his hand. He lowered his eyes slowly, following the hairs falling around him in the air until he finally reached the lump that he was holding in his hand.

At least I know what my hair looks like, but I still don’t know what my face is like.

He let the remaining hair spill out of his hand and touched his face once more. The touch of his fingers did little to tell him of his own appearance, or at least he lacked the skill to make any use of it.

The best that he could tell from it all was that his nose was not overly large. There was a size to it, just nothing he found alarming for the time being.

Content with his nose, he proceeded to, to the best of his abilities, shave the beard that had grown on him. Feeling where the blade needed to go was not overly difficult, but he wasn’t used to the motions.

-

Baba was preparing the porridge quietly and in peace, that is until the yelps from outside reached her ears. It didn’t take long to conclude what their source was as there was only one other person here beside her.

“What a handful you are, soldier.”

-

The shaving was successful in the sense that a success was removing the facial hair. From a different perspective it could be considered a failure as many cuts now adorned Zvanimir’s face, all shallow, but very visible.

I could have done better on that. Maybe next time. Or maybe I just shouldn’t bother.

He wiped the blade off on some of his clothes and put it away. Almost reflexively, he turned towards the tree house and almost began walking to it. Almost.

Maybe I should wait a bit.

It dawned on him that he had some time to himself. Some peace to ponder on everything that had happened to him up until now. It seemed like that was something he should have done sooner, but it’s better he do it late than never.

The woman I saw in the dream, she looked the same as the one I saw in the tomb before I woke up. They might be related somehow and finding out who she is would be a good thing to do moving forward.

I should also ask Baba about the Alcari. If they can come to hunt me in my dreams like that, there’s probably some way to fend them off. If only I had a weapon or something to protect myself.

…

Right! The sword.

Zvanimir’s hand reached for his belt, the place where he had been holding the shattered blade.

What? Where is it?

There was no blade to be found on his person, except for the blade that Baba had given to him to shave with.

Damn it, where did it go? I can’t have left it back in the valley, it was strapped to my belt the entire time.

Then again, would the sword appear in my dreams if I had it with me?

No use in asking such questions right now anyway. I should probably focus on learning as much as I can from Baba first and also learn more about her. There’s something strange going on with her, but I just can’t figure out what.

One moment she’s incredibly helpful and then the next it’s as if she’s a different person entirely. Maybe it’s just because she’s old and alone, but I shouldn’t take it so lightly.

Should I just leave right now?

He lifted his head and looked at the tree house. He could see Baba inside, cooking what was probably the porridge that she mentioned. There was a slight smile on her face as she prepared the meal, stirring and making sure to taste everything regularly.

I don’t think I could, even if I tried.