The Trickster's Bargain

April's first morning in the small village of Eldergrove was crisp, with the earth still damp from last night's rain. The sky, an ethereal wash of pale blue and silver, hinted at the warmth the day would bring. Beneath the towering canopies of ancient oaks, the village stirred gently, the low hum of life beginning to swell, but for all the charm of this place—quaint cottages, cobblestone streets, and the scent of bread fresh from the oven—something felt off.

Ruby, the village seamstress, stood at her window, gazing out at the mist as it curled around the twisting branches of the trees. Her thoughts were tangled in the strange invitation she had received the night before. The parchment had been simple, almost delicate, the ink written in an elegant script. Come to the heart of the forest at dawn. There, answers await. Her pulse had quickened, a twinge of both curiosity and hesitation twisting within her chest.

She had no idea who would send such a message, yet something inside her told her to go. So, she did. She left her cottage, the warm light of the hearth still flickering behind her, and walked into the woods, leaving the familiar village behind.

The trees loomed, tall and silent, as she ventured deeper into the mist. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth. As she walked, the undergrowth crunched beneath her boots, but no birds sang, and no wind rustled the leaves. The silence was suffocating, oppressive, as though the forest itself held its breath.

Then, in the heart of the woods, she saw him.

He stood at the edge of a small clearing, his figure slender and lithe, with hair like spun silver that caught the dim light filtering through the trees. His eyes, gleaming like twin moons, held a glint of mischief. He wore a long coat of deep crimson, embroidered with intricate symbols she did not recognise, and his boots were polished to a mirror-like sheen. In his hands, he held a staff—a slender branch of silver wood, crowned with a curious knot at the top.

He smiled, his lips curling in amusement. "Ah, Ruby," he said, his voice like a breeze through the trees, "I've been waiting for you."

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. "And how do you know my name?"

The figure gave a soft, melodious laugh, his eyes glinting with something between delight and danger. "Ah, you may call me Althior," he said with a bow, "though many others know me as the Trickster. As for your name, well, let's just say that in my line of work, one learns how to listen to the whispers of the world."

Ruby frowned, crossing her arms. "A trickster? What is it you want with me?"

Althior's smile widened, his teeth sharp and gleaming. "I don't want anything from you, dear Ruby. Rather, I offer you a bargain."

"A bargain?" Her tone sharpened, her suspicion rising. "What kind of bargain?"

"A bargain of opportunity," he replied, stepping closer, his voice lowering to a soft, enticing murmur. "I offer you the chance to change the course of your life. To see your desires realised, to shape the world around you in ways you’ve only dreamed of."

Ruby's heart skipped a beat, though she fought to remain composed. "And what do you ask in return?"

Althior's eyes glittered, the depth of them unfathomable. "Ah, that's the catch, isn't it? Every choice comes with a price. A price that you must pay, though you may not understand it now. But," he leaned in closer, his voice a mere whisper, "the reward will be worth it, of that I assure you."

A flicker of unease passed through Ruby, but her curiosity overpowered her caution. "What kind of price?"

"You’ll find out when the time comes," he said cryptically. "But it will not be immediate. I will not deceive you, dear Ruby, though I am not known for my honesty, either. You will have time to decide, to see if this bargain is truly worth the cost."

Ruby took a deep breath, her mind racing. She had lived a simple life, one filled with the rhythm of daily work—sewing, mending, and tending to the small tasks of village life, but there had always been a restlessness within her, a yearning for something more. She had dreamed of adventure, of standing on a mountaintop and looking out over lands she had never seen. Althior’s offer—the chance to change everything—was tempting.

She had heard tales of those who had made bargains with tricksters—tales of promises unfulfilled, of people paying far more than they had anticipated.

Still, the idea of altering the course of her life, of seeing the world beyond Eldergrove, was too alluring to dismiss outright.

"How do I accept?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Althior’s smile deepened. "You need only speak the words, Ruby. Declare that you are ready to accept the bargain, and it shall be done."

Ruby hesitated. For a long moment, she stood in the clearing, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. She thought of her life—so small, so predictable. Then she thought of the adventures she could have, the places she could see, the person she could become.

“I accept your bargain,” she said at last, her voice steady, though her pulse quickened. “I am ready to see what lies beyond this life.”

Althior’s smile stretched wide, almost too wide. He raised his staff, and in a flash of silver light, the air around them shimmered. The forest seemed to hold its breath.

“You are a brave one, Ruby,” he said, his voice lilting with amusement. “But remember this—every choice has its consequences. The path ahead will be paved with both wonder and peril. And you may not always like what you find when the price comes due.”

With that, he turned and walked into the mist, vanishing as silently as he had appeared. Ruby stood alone in the clearing, the weight of the bargain she had just made settling heavily in her chest.

The days that followed were filled with strange, wondrous changes. Ruby's sewing grew faster, her work more intricate. Her shop became busier, attracting customers from distant villages, even from the city. She was able to weave fabrics that shimmered with an almost magical quality, and her creations became renowned throughout the land. As her fame spread, so did the whispers.

Some said she had made a deal with the Trickster. Others claimed she had sold her soul for her success. The rumours did not bother Ruby, not at first. She was living the life she had always dreamed of—riches, attention, and endless opportunities.

As the months passed, she began to feel the price of her bargain. It started small—an unsettling feeling, a sense that something was always just out of reach. Her nights were filled with restless dreams of vast, dark landscapes where shadows whispered her name. She would wake in a cold sweat, her heart racing, unable to remember the details of the dreams, but always feeling the weight of something lost.

Then, one evening, as she was closing her shop, Althior appeared once again.

He stepped into the doorway, his eyes gleaming like stars. “Ah, Ruby, how well you’ve done,” he said, his voice smooth as honey. “Your success is exactly as I promised.”

Ruby straightened, her heart pounding. “I’ve had everything I ever wanted,” she said, her voice strained. “But there’s something missing. Something I can’t quite grasp.”

Althior’s smile deepened, and he stepped closer, his presence a suffocating pressure.

“That’s the price, dear Ruby. The more you gain, the more you lose. The bargain is a delicate thing. You can never have everything without giving something away.”

Ruby’s chest tightened. “What did I give away?” she whispered, the question tasting bitter on her tongue.

Althior’s eyes sparkled with cruel amusement. “Your peace, of course. Your happiness. The thing that cannot be bought, only earned. But it’s a small price, don’t you think? For all you’ve gained?”

Her stomach churned, and for the first time, Ruby saw the full weight of the trickster’s bargain.

She had gained everything she thought she wanted, but in the end, she had lost the very thing that had once made her feel whole: the simple joy of living.

So, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Ruby knew that no amount of fame, fortune, or magic could undo the cost of her choices. The price would always be with her, lingering in the shadows, reminding her that even the sweetest bargains come with a bitter taste.

In the distance, she could hear Althior’s laughter, echoing through the trees, a reminder that nothing comes without a price.