I hugged my coat closer to me with frozen fingers as the wind howls past me. The bitter cold was to be expected. Journeying this far north usually meant nothing but ice as far as the eye can see, when you're not blinded by snow being whipped in your face by the gale, that is. Many an explorer has turned back before reaching true magnetic north. I suppose fame and glory can only motivate a man so much. Eventually wisdom warns against the pointlessness of continuing to a point not much different from any other and one where the only thing to bury you body is the ice and snow.
But, I was not an explorer searching for something worthless like fame or fortune. I was looking for the impossible. To break the laws of god and nature. Something that was pure heresy of science. And if the rumours are to be trusted, despite what my brain said against it, at the point of the true magnetic north, where the wind howls like a savage wolf and the cold freezes your blood before it reaches the snowy grave at your feet was a shop that specialises in the impossible.
I could feel a small smile tug at my tired face. Not too far ahead, through the unrelenting white of the gales winds, was a tiny cabin like building. Dark wood worn from age and the seemingly endless hale and snow was standing like an obelisk in a desert of pale. With shaky and uneven steps that sunk into the snow, I trudged towards it.
Eventually, my boots met surprisingly stable planks of wood rather than quicksand like snow. The wind seemed to die down around the cabin as if it where stealing away from the wood like a scared mutt from it’s master. This left the creaking of the wood and soft squeaking of the sign that hung by rusted chains in front of the door. The sign had rune like marks that where hastily painted over in bright yellow paint that read "The Raven's Hold."
I shook my head at the sign, you would think a shop that sells the impossible would have a neater sign. With that I walked up to the door. I held my hand up to it, hesitating. I certainly was not in the mood to trudge through the bitter cold back to the tiny town and try to hitch a ship back to England after coming all this way. But a part of me, of my very soul, wanted nothing to do with this place. The winds itself shudder away from the wood. So how much of a misplaced ego must a mere man have to just enter it if the relentless wind shied away?
I could feel my hand move to my locket, the cold metal biting though the tears in my gloves. I had come here for a reason and I will get what I am searching for. I can’t return back home empty handed. I won’t return home without at least trying. With a deep breath, I knocked against the wooden door, my word gloves doing little to protect my frostbitten knuckles from the worn wood. Nothing. I knocked again and again nothing.
I could practically feel the urge to laugh bubbling in my throat. All of that work, that danger, that hardship and the bloody door won't even be answered. I grit my teeth. I slammed my fist against the door, the impact causing the boarded up windows to rattle like some shuddering beast.
"Come on, you cursed, wooden bastard." I grumbled out before I had managed to calm down. I don't suppose the shop's closed at the moment or maybe it was abandoned, leaving behind nothing but the slowly rotting wood. Maybe it wasn't The Raven's Hold. After all, some wanna be jokester could have just wondered in and made the sign and left it here on a random hunting cabin. But no. It’ can’t me that simple. I refuse to let it be that simple.
Having nothing left to lose at this point, I grabbed the freezing metal handle and turned it. With a soft creak the door opened slightly, letting warm air and a soft orange glow flee from the inside of the cabin. I pushed the door open as a bell rang out above my head. I glanced up and noticed the small copper bell that would alert anyone inside of the door being opened. Rather charming addition if only it did it’s job.
I looked back into the store. It was small, with a small fireplace and lounge on one end and shelves lining every other wall. The shelves where a mess. Jars filled with taxidermy animals ranging from snakes to rats sat close to the edges while worn out and yellowed books and random trinkets where scattered about. A human skull was placed rather neatly on the top of one of the shelves, with runes lining the bones surface and dried blood covering it’s face.
I walked up to the shelves, curiosity capturing me before I could think through my actions. My eyes settled on one of the jars. It was quite a large jar, with a silver lid and small engraved tag on it spelling out some matter of runes. It was filled with a yellowish liquid that rippled as a heart in the jar would beat seemingly by itself.
"Oh, careful with those."
I snapped to look at the voice that had spoke in a tone too careful. It was a tall woman, or at least I thought it was a woman. Just like the voice itself, the owner was strange in a way I couldn't pin exactly. It felt like a primal part of my being was adverse to the woman's very presence. She didn't look that wrong. She was tall, graceful and eye catching. The type of person that would end up being used as a model or film star.
Which was probably what was wrong. She looked perfect. Her skin was like porcelain, shimmery but stiff. Her eyes seemed almost cat like with how they shined as they followed my every breath with predatory precision. She wore a perfect smile that looked practised and controlled. Her movements were graceful and effective as if she planned them out before doing them. Her voice was light and airy, like a calming and soothing song but much too sweet and smooth.
She walked closer to me. Her perfect smile not leaving her face."Well, welcome to The Raven's Hold. What can I get for you?"
Straight to the point. That was helpful but I didn't quite trust it. It felt like a salesmen trying to rush along a customer to buy something they hardly need or want. So I responded almost on instinct. "Oh, just browsing."
She laughed softly at that, covering her mouth with her hand. That gesture would have looked elegant on something less other worldly. "Just browsing for something particular?"
I opened my mouth to answer but she cut me off.
"We have plenty of goods. Ranging from small trinkets, to artifacts, to books. Most everything is for sale."
"Right. I could qu-" I began only for her to twirl on her heels, snatching a random looking necklace and holding it up for me to see.
"Ah, like this. Made of whale bones. It's stylish, classy and sure to win the heart of any dashing lady or gentleman."
I frowned a bit. I don't quite see the use of such a product. Even if I was looking for a relationship, a damned necklace wasn't going to just charm someone into falling in love. "Okay, I can see that. It looks alright."
She cut me off again, placing the necklace down on a shelf. "Ah, but you're not a necklace guy. No, you want something better? How about this here ring. I know, sliver isn't as beautiful as gold."
It was my turn to cut her off. I was getting annoyed of this constant peddling. "I'm not trying to romance someone."
She seemed taken aback by what I said. Her eyes trailing over me as if she was inspecting my appearance. Her head tilted at an odd angle like a confused hound. She quickly brushed of the strange shift and spoke again. "Oh, right, right. My apologies, Sir. I do suppose I was quite mistaken. I could see you already achieved in that department."
I could my muscles tense up and my hand move to cover my ring even if it was under my glove. It was a strange response but the way she said it felt like a thinly veiled threat. Before I could even fully process her words she continued like nothing had occurred.
“Now, how about a gift for that wife of yours?”
A short silence settled as I was not yet sure if she was going to begin her ranting again. Once I was sure I was free to talk without getting cut off, I spoke. “I heard this shop can do the impossible. Is that true?”
The woman seemed to smile a bit wider. With a nod of her head she answered. “I don’t suppose it would be impossible if it can be done. But to answer your question, yes. This shop can do quite most anything.”
I could feel my heart sink a bit at that. ‘Quite most anything’. What does that answer even mean. It was a not answer if anything. Any shop can do quite most anything if you twist the meaning of anything to fit your work. Most doctors can do quite most anything. I spoke again, my voice taking on a harsher tone. I was getting sick of this woman’s strange behaviour. “What is quite most anything? What can’t you do?”
The woman looked around the store before answering. “I can’t make you truly immortal or a god.”
I stayed quiet again, having expected her to go on. “You can’t make me immortal or a god?”
“Quite. You see, we will all die regardless at the end of the world and godhood usually becomes a slight problem with the powers that be. Besides, neither are things anyone truly wants. With all the draw backs and such.”
I scoffed at her words. Was she joking or being serious? Her tone seemed honest but her words were outlandish. “What about death? What can you do about that?”
She stayed quiet for a second before she leaned a bit closer to me. “I can bring someone back. I mean. Depending on what you want. A good servant, I suppose a zombie will do. If you want to maintain your status and appearance, a vampire. Ah, but no. You wouldn’t be able to do that, will you?”
“Of course not! Are you mad!” I shouted out. I couldn’t even bear the idea of doing that. If that was the only options Olive would be better off dead than some sick rotted corpse or bloodthirsty monster.
The shopkeeper gently placed a hand on my shoulder, as if offering comfort. As if anything about this creature pretending to be human could be comforting and her nails felt like claws on my skin. “There are other ways to bring back the dead. I’m sure we can make an arrangement.”
Other ways. Ways that won’t turn my dear Olive into some brainless corpse with a mockery of life. Was such a thing even possible? Was such a thing right to do? “Go on.” I urged her.
She turned and walked the short distance to the counter before she took a seat on the small chair behind it. With the speed only brought about by habit, she pulled out an old and dusty tome. She flipped to a page covered in ink marks and diagrams and pointed to one of the pages. I glanced down towards a yellowed page that sported a crude drawing of some sort of human with the same usual runes lining the pages. “I can make an artificial body, find the soul and done. New life and a new chance. Good enough for you?”
I didn’t know at the time. Was that good enough. Just recreate Olive. Just make my daughters body anew and put the same soul back into it. Would that be the right choice? And more importantly, what isn’t she telling me. “What’s the catch?”
She laughed again. “What do you mean catch?”
I narrowed my eyes. Was she genuinely confused on what I asked or messing with me. “The trick. The thing that you’re not telling me up front.”
“Ah. You think I am scamming you. Or lying about what I can offer?” Her eyebrows creased together in the first expression other than an unmoving smile she had gave.
“Yes. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable here. You can’t deny this shop is-” I took a second to find the right words for it. What would you even call this? A freak show. A little shop of horrors. Some black magic nonsense. I was a civil man and being unreasonably rude was unneeded. Eventually I settled for unique.
She tilted her head again. “How so?”
I let out a breath in sheer disbelief. How so? What did she mean by that. How was the shop not weird, or strange or the type of thing you’d see in a horror film. “The skull or jar with a beating heart! Look, just be honest. What is the catch?”
She sighed softly before ruffling through the drawers of the counter. She placed a piece of parchment onto the counter writing with a quill as she spoke. “It is more expensive. In part because of the resources and the finding and collecting of the correct soul. You wouldn’t want a changeling or anything of that sort. Trust me on that. So of course, you might want to think about it more.”
I answered quickly. I had suddenly felt as if there was a chance for what she was saying to hold some truth to it. And if that were the case I could see my little girl again. “I can pay any price. I am willing to get any amount of money. Just tell me the amount.”
She slide the parchment to me. It was lined with writing, listing out the resources and prices for each. Things like candles, clay, pure salt, gold and other less legible markings. At the bottom of the parchment was a place for me to sigh and the total. The neat and elegant lines marking out the price as one soul.
I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It’s unfortunately the cost of removing a soul from the realm of the dead. I do hope you understand.”
Understand. I couldn’t. Not fully at least. I didn’t even know what a soul was. Or what losing one would be like and how that would leave me. I didn’t really think at the time how that would leave my family. “I understand. I mean, this does the impossible. I guess the prices have got to keep up the trend.”
She let out another soft laugh, that sounded a bit more artificial than the other two. I reached for the quill pen before signing my name. The ink seemed to turn red as a small burning feeling filled my chest. Before I had fully finished signing the contract, she pulled it from my hands. “Wonderful. I’ll get right to work on your order.”