The Inn Was Eerily Strange Today
The morning had been clear and bright, but by afternoon, dark clouds rolled in without warning. A fierce gust of wind swept through, carrying all our freshly laundered clothes straight to the back mountain—including, incidentally, Red-Eyes’ bellyband (??).
"Who hung up my clothes?! WHO?! And with lemon-scented fabric softener?! Are you trying to turn me into a lemon chicken?!" Red-Eyes shrieked as he burst out of the woodshed, chasing after his fluttering garment while muttering curses under his breath—completely ruining any semblance of dignity he might’ve had.
I followed behind, mostly just to watch the chaos, but to my surprise, he actually chased that bellyband all the way to the old well at the back of the mountain. Then… he suddenly froze, his face turning to stone.
"...Do you hear that?"
"Hear what? Your bellyband calling your name?" I joked.
Red-Eyes didn’t laugh. Instead, he shuddered.
"I think… I hear him calling me." He pointed at the stone well, his voice dropping to a whisper.
I immediately sobered up. Because I remembered that well—back when I was researching the inn’s history, there were records of it. A century ago, a monster had been sealed inside.
"Who? Who do you hear?" I asked.
Red-Eyes lowered his head, his feathers trembling slightly. "Big Tail… that damn fox who always dragged me around on reckless adventures… He’s been sealed here? All this time?"
I stayed silent, quietly stepping closer to the well.
The wind howled around us, but the well itself was deathly still.
Then, a faint voice rose from the depths—hoarse, as if parched beyond endurance:
"...Chick… you finally came… You still owe me five taels of silver…"
I couldn’t help but snort. "Was your friend starved to death or something?"
Red-Eyes’ eye twitched. Then… his voice cracked.
"He… he still remembers me. Even remembers the money I owe him. He… never blamed me."
I reached out and patted his back, saying nothing.
——
That night, Red-Eyes kept vigil by the well until dawn.
No more complaints. No more griping about the shabby rooms. He just said, quietly:
"If I can free him… I’ll pay him back. Not just five taels of silver. But all the courage I owe him, too."
I listened, then simply nodded.
Some monsters aren’t vicious. They just have knots in their hearts—knots they’ve spent lifetimes too afraid to touch.
And this inn?
It’s here to help them, little by little, unravel those tightly tangled days.
ns216.73.216.168da2
and then Add to home screen.