Another birthday, another visit from Wraithvine. Nimnae is sick and tired of the lessons, the trickery, of not getting anything out of the wishes. So Nimnae wishes that they would have the means of escaping this year no matter the cost. [Sequel to https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-04739-l355-birthday-wish -- Deathshead419
[AN: Wraithvine would have definitely hung around to make sure Nimnae learned ]
In the months between Lyala's birthday and Nimnae's, Wraithvine entered the local lord's household as a tutor. Promising to teach Nimnae everything he needed to know. The family, a little confused about their son and foggy memories, took hir on. Though they did insist on updating Wraithvine's wardrobe.
Nimnae was not pleased to see hir. "I'm gonna wish you away," he snarled. "You watch. You'll go away and never come back. I'll wish you dead."
"My goddess won't let you," said Wraithvine. "I'll remember, being subject of your wish... and my birthday is the day after yours." Ze let that knowledge sink in. No matter what the irritated eight-year-old wished for, he could only enjoy it for twenty-four hours.
The boy glared up at the Elven Wizard. "I refuse to learn from you."
"We will see," said Wraithvine. "We will begin with manners. You will say 'please' whenever you ask for anything, and 'thank you' when you receive it."
"No," insisted Nimnae. And thus, the games began.
Wraithvine had already instructed Nimnae's parents about the need to establish good habits. About how they all had to stand firm with Wraithvine's lessons. Including the servants.
Nimnae's howls of, "I want cake for dinner," was answered with either, "No," or, "What should you be saying?"
Nimnae tried screaming fits for two months. Two months of those, paired with plain, minimalistic meals and no dessert, that he finally mumbled something that could have been 'please' in a kind light. By then, however, nobody was inclined to be kind.
"Beg pardon?" said Wraithvine, "I'm very old and hard of hearing."
The boy glared at the Eternal Elf, who had previously exhibited over-the-horizon hearing for all misdeeds Nimnae attempted. His eyes said, Horseshit, but his mouth knew better than to say it. Not after the last three times. He calculated whether or not it was worth actually repeating his mumbled bleeth and receive whatever humiliation Wraithvine felt he deserved, or to finally buckle under.
"Please," grudgingly grumped Nimnae.
"Of course you may, now that you asked so nicely," said Wraithvine, conjuring the requested sauce for Nimnae's meal. "Now what do we say in gratitude?"
A small growl and another long calculation as the sauce remained on the cusp of being added to his plate. "...thank you," he said through gritted teeth.
He resented every second of it, of course. Right up until his birthday, where he went out of his way to stay up until the bells rang at midnight. Nimnae was certain he had a wish that nobody would want to undo. Which, if he thought further about that, might make him rethink his life to date.
"I wish I was dead," he said as the bells tolled.
Time stopped between the clunks of the belltower's gears.
A shadow departed from the corner, formed into the figure of a woman in black, but her head was the skull of a bird. Are you certain you want this wish? she said without sound.
Nimnae was so terrified, he couldn't speak. He could only shake his head.
He woke up the next morning in his bed, grateful to be alive. And never knowing whether or not Wraithvine un-wished that for him.
[Photo by Alexander Andrews on Unsplash]
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