Alden Oakwell hiked up the path, his rucksack heavy and laden. It had been a long journey from Gharn, not a perilous one, though he was ready to see that change soon. Alden had entered Wessfarrow, the western portion of the continent known for its fractiousness, with several giant clans at perpetual conflict outside the sphere of Gharn’s laws. Alden wasn’t in Wessfarrow to uphold any law or mediate justice, he was here on a mission from his guild to retrieve an artifact from an old ruin. It was more of a tedious task, with little expertise required. Those were the ones delegated to Alden nowadays, ever since he became known as the Artless.

Cresting the hills gave Alden a good overview. The woodlands were kind to the eye, the maple sparse and human-sized around this part allowing a proper view. Down the hillock he was upon, the scant woods continued west, and up against the side of another set of small hills was a humble homestead. A few giant-sized elms were taller than the hills. They made giants feel normal and made humans feel even smaller. Alden tilted his hat back, scratched his short brown scalp, then proceeded. The sun’s oppressive glare was unabating.

Alden made it all the way through the woods, until he could hear cows moo and their bells cling. He rounded their enclosure, crossed amidst a careless herd of sheep roaming freely, and closed in on the homestead. A man and his son dropped the haystack they were holding and met Alden, wiping their hands on their wilted shirts.

Alden removed his hat. “Good day to you, friends.”

“And good day to you, mister,” the father said, a perpetual frown upon him. It wasn’t made of a bad temper, but molded by the heat and toil of the day.

“I’ve come a long way, from Gharn. Might I rest here a while? I’ve got money.”

The son stepped forward, a teen just younger than Alden. “What brings you here?”

“On an errand, for my guild.” Their uneased looks were understandable, and Alden was quick to correct it. “They’re called the Tailglows, we’re not tied to the kingdom.” Alden retrieved his certificate from the side of his rucksack, offering it to the father. He also tugged at the collar of his brown shirt, revealing the purple Tailglow insignia on his chest.

The father handed the certificate to his son. “What does it say, boy?”

“Seems legitimate.”

“Go see Marley over there.” The father pointed to the porch of the house, where a young lady waved him over. Her dress was a faded green, the pinafore over it smeared with dirt. The young man led Alden to the house.

“Madam,” Alden said. The youngster introduced him and returned to his father’s work.

“This way, sir. We’ve some mushroom stew left from morning, if you’d like.”

“That sounds wonderful. Marley, was it?”

She nodded, opening the door and letting him in. The main room was spacious, the aromatic, earthen scent of mushroom stew greeting his nose first.

Alden put his rucksack down behind the open door. “Life around here seems quiet, quieter than what you’d hear about in Gharn.”

“They do love making devils of us over there,” Marley said, heading for the fireplace near the table where a cauldron hung over the embers of the fire. “The clans do war amongst each other, but we keep our heads low. Although… sometimes, it’s overbearing. There’s a nasty devil of a giant that comes by here every other week, she’s part of the Sorrel Clan. They own this territory. They’ve been at war with the Klint Clan for who knows how long. The Sorrel Clan’s strongest fighter, Big Bertha, she came through here once. Largest giant I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve heard of her,” Alden said. “She is the largest giant ever, at least on our continent. Who knows what awaits beyond the shores.”

“Hmm. There’s a footprint of hers nearby, still preserved when she walked by. Enormous feet. I can understand what Gharn sees in us sometimes. All barbarism and fighting.”

Alden sat by the table. “It’s no paradise over there either.”

Marley stirred the stew with a ladle. “You were from a guild, weren’t you?”

“Tailglows. We’ve no ties to the kingdom, so it shouldn’t rile anyone up here.”

“You’re assuming everyone here is reasonable.”

“The errand itself isn’t the hardest,” Alden said. “But not many are willing to take it because it’s in Wessfarrow.”

“Why did you?”

“Well… It wasn’t high-profile, so it’s the best I can take. I’m among the lower ranks in the guild.”

Marley took a bowl and filled it with stew. “What was your name?”

“Alden.”

She waited for more.

Alden hoped they didn’t know over here, deciding to give his full name. “Oakwell.”

“Oakwell…” Her expression was distant, thinking, as she came over to the table and handed him the stew and a spoon. “Isn’t that the great mage’s name, Gerard Oakwell?”

“Might be.” Alden swirled his spoon through the stew. Hopefully, she wouldn’t continue.

“And he had a son, I think. A promising young lad of great magical talent. But they said he was a failure, they called him the Artless, because he never reached an art.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m assuming that’s not you?”

Alden feigned a smile. “I’m a different Oakwell.” That was partly true. He wasn’t worth the name anymore.

“Lucky for you,” she said, taking her own seat. “It’s quite a tragic story. It’s not known for any mage to not have an art, once they’re strong enough. It was an embarrassment for someone like Gerard Oakwell, to have a child like that.”

“You know, I’ve heard that story too many times.” Alden tried to be polite.

“Oh, sure. How about you? Are you a strong mage?”

“I’d say so, trained since I was a boy. I’m seventeen, still ways to go. No, I haven’t reached my arts.”

She smiled. “It should come soon, then.”

“Sure.”

Although she couldn’t know why the topic soured his mood, Marley at least noticed it happened. She got up and pointed him to the room, took his rucksack there and explained the areas. “Ask, if any more is needed,” she said when finished.

“Thank you.” He was left to finish his stew. Alden refilled another bowl and wolfed that one down too, letting a burp rip when he knew he was alone. The sight of him sitting so ungracefully in this countryside would make his father bury his head in shame, if the man had any of it left. Alden was a dirty stain Gerard wanted to wash off, and a year of not having seen each other could count as having successfully done that. It was somewhat of a cyclic interaction Alden had with most people. When they saw the strength of his base magics coupled with his young age, they wanted to recruit him. The promise of what mage he could become was exceptional. And when he had to be honest and let them know he was without an art, the Artless, that his ceiling was far below what one might expect, interest vanished. Alden began to see what value people placed in the art. He was powerful still, well above the average of most mages, yet that detail made everyone lose faith in him. It wasn’t something anyone else had to deal with either; not having an art was unheard of.

As Alden got up, he felt the tremors, very faint but noticeable. A giant. Through the window, he saw two large, copper legs pass by. The palish brown of her soles had smatters of leaves and chips of branches on them. An absent-minded flex of her toes summoned a rich array of wrinkles across her sole, much of the debris dropping off as those pretty appendages showed their human-grabbing capabilities.

Alden snapped out of it. It was another embarrassing detail adding to his outcast status, one he tried to keep hidden and, to his knowledge, had failed to do, which was the matter of his affection for feet.

The giant was likely on some errand around here or was passing by, nothing that was any of Alden’s business. So he went to his room, took off his boots and shirt and delivered himself to the bed. Every part of his body seemed to sigh as he closed his eyes.

The door opened. “Please, Mr. Oakwell, can you help?” Marley pressed her lips together, nervous, but didn’t convey an alarming urgency.

Alden rubbed his eyes and sat up. “What is it?”

“This rascal of a giant, Mimmie, she comes by every now and then. She’s a bully, a fiend, and I can’t stand watching my brother and father endure her stupidities any longer.”

“And what should I do about it?”

“Go and scare her off. She’s no braver than a mouse, do some magical noise and you’ll shoo her away.”

Alden got up from the bed. “It’s really that simple?”

“Yes! You can stay the whole night without pay, and I’ll stock some provisions for you.”

“Ehh.” Alden got up and got dressed while she thanked him. It felt like she concluded too early that he would do it. He could have pushed back, but a free night sounded lovely.

Marley lead him to the window. The giant stood sixty feet tall with a relatively thin frame, towering over both the father and son of the homestead. She had a tattered beige skirt ending at her thighs, a strap over her flat chest and nothing else. Her dark hair was thrown up in three slapdash pigtails, looking younger than even Alden, a teen at most. Alden stepped outside.

“You know we asked you to be quiet, madam,” the father said. “You scare the livestock.” Both of them had to crane their necks all the way up to find her face.

“You know you’re supposed to call me Queen Mimmie!” The shrillness of her voice complemented too well the bother she seemed to be.

“Of course, Queen Mimmie.”

“Now, I did wait over the hills, but you were too blind to see me.”

“Uhm, I’m sure we looked, right, Father?”

Mimmie pouted. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No, we’re not, Queen Mimmie.”

“And what do you mean I ‘scare the livestock’. Are you calling me ugly?”

“Absolutely not. You’re the fairest of ladies, my queen.”

Mimmie crossed her arms. “I don’t buy it. You’re just saying things. There’s only one way to fix this, and you know what it is.” She pointed down, her ten toes waving about buoyantly. They were small and cute, but stuck on a nasty little brat. “Start kissing! And next time I come, I shouldn’t even have to tell you, you’re just going to do it.”

Marley nudged Alden on. “Do something, please.”

Alden stepped down the porch, and right as the father and son got on their knees to bring their lips onto her expectant big toes, Alden called, “Hey, bitch.”

All three of them turned to him.

“Why don’t you get out of here, hmm? Find someone else to annoy.”

“And who the hell are you, tiny?”

The men used the chance to get up and away from her feet.

“Is it too much to ask of you to stop annoying these people? They’re just trying to get by.”

“So am I, and I want to have fun. I can do what I want.” She walked forward, purposefully putting weight into her steps to bring those tremors which shook the ground. Alden cast a glance at Marley. From her description, he expected the giant to be less confrontational.

Mimmie’s two feet took position to either side of Alden. He stared at them for a stupid moment, then looked up, and despite her thinness, she absolutely dwarfed him.

“I’ll make you kiss my feet, since you stare at them so much.” Following those copper-colored legs, he could see her underwear past the skirt. Her annoyed look was gone, more pleased now. She was happy to have someone to bully without any excuses.

Alden got ready to summon his magic.