As Alex continued exploring the area near the unnatural gap, he noticed something partially hidden beneath a bush nearby. Moving closer, he directed one of his ravens to fly down and investigate. “Is that… a house-elf?” Alex muttered in surprise as the shared vision of the raven revealed the tiny figure beneath the foliage.
The house-elf lay motionless, covered in dirt and scratches. Its tattered rags were stained with blood and grime, but it seemed to be unconscious rather than dead. Realizing this might be his best chance to get answers, Alex hurried over to help. He carefully turned the elf over, checking for signs of life. Placing two fingers under its nose, he felt faint but steady breaths. The creature’s small body was covered in bruises, and while the blood loss wasn’t severe by human standards, it was enough to endanger the elf’s life.
Alex quickly pulled a nourishing potion from his bag and gently poured a few drops into the elf’s mouth. At the same time, he cast a basic healing charm to close the worst of the wounds. It wasn’t perfect, but it would stabilize the creature for now. Minutes later, the elf’s breathing grew steadier, and its eyes fluttered beneath its eyelids—a sign it was starting to wake. “Wake up, little one. Can you hear me?” Alex asked softly, pouring a small amount of water onto the elf’s parched lips.
The elf stirred, mumbling weakly. “Master… no… don’t… help…” Its voice was barely audible at first, but as it gained consciousness, its expression shifted from confusion to sheer terror. Suddenly, the elf’s eyes snapped open, and it screamed, “Help! Master, Wimzy is scared! Don’t kill me! Don’t hurt Master! Help!”
The house-elf’s panic only grew as it realized Alex was a stranger. It thrashed in fright, tears streaming down its face. “Hey, calm down!” Alex said firmly, trying to soothe it, but his gentle words had no effect. The elf kept wailing, its voice rising in pitch.
Finally losing patience, Alex shouted, “Quiet!” At the same time, he unconsciously released a wave of fear magic—a spell he rarely used on sentient beings. The effect was immediate.
The elf froze mid-sob, its wide eyes locking onto Alex. Even its tears seemed to pause as the overwhelming aura of fear left it momentarily stunned. “Now,” Alex said, his tone sharp but controlled, “you’ll answer my questions. Understand?”
“S-s-sir, yes, sir!” the elf stammered, its small hands trembling as it clasped them together. “Please don’t hurt me!”
“What’s your name?” Alex asked, his voice softer this time.
“Wimzy, sir! My name is Wimzy!” the elf replied, nodding quickly.
“Alright, Wimzy. Why are you here? What happened?” Alex leaned forward, trying to keep his tone calm to avoid scaring the creature further.
“Wimzy came here with Master… to do business,” the elf stammered. “We walked through the forest for a day and a night… and then… and then…”
As Wimzy spoke, its voice grew shaky again, and its eyes filled with fear. “Take a deep breath,” Alex said, pulling out a calming draught. He uncorked the vial and handed it to the elf. “Drink this—it’ll help.”
Wimzy hesitated but obeyed, sipping the potion. A moment later, its breathing steadied, and its trembling eased. “Good. Now, tell me slowly—what happened when you got here?” Alex encouraged.
Wimzy nodded nervously. “We reached the meeting place… but then scary monsters came. They attacked Master! Master told Wimzy to run, so Wimzy ran… but then something hit Wimzy, and everything hurt… and then Wimzy doesn’t remember. Where’s Master? Is Master okay?”
The elf’s voice cracked with worry, and Alex could tell it was struggling to keep its composure. He gently placed a hand on its shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. But first, I need you to focus. These ‘monsters’—were they werewolves?”
“Yes! Werewolves!” Wimzy nodded frantically. “But Wimzy saw a wizard first. He was talking to Master… then he got angry… so angry. He shouted like a wolf, and then the monsters came.”
“A wizard?” Alex’s eyes narrowed. “He was with the werewolves?”
Wimzy hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, sir! He was human at first, but after yelling, the werewolves appeared. They surrounded us. He… he took Master’s box. Wimzy sorted the cargo, but the wizard got mad. He yelled again, and Master told Wimzy to run.”
“What was in the box?” Alex pressed.
“Wimzy doesn’t know! Master didn’t tell Wimzy—just said it was for trade,” the elf replied, its voice wavering.
“And how many werewolves were there? Did you see anyone else?”
Wimzy began counting on its fingers. “One, two, three… six! Six werewolves, sir! But only one wizard.”
‘Six?’ Alex frowned. He’d only seen five sets of werewolf tracks earlier. ‘Where was the sixth one? And why would a wizard be working with them?’ “Do you remember what the wizard said to your master?” Alex asked.
As Wimzy continued her story, her voice trembled with emotion. “The wizard… he was so angry. He yelled at the master, saying there was no Draught of Living Death, only a Sleeping Draught. And he complained that the Erumpent Potion wasn’t enough to bring down a unicorn. He didn’t know that Master had already tried so hard! The herbs needed for those potions aren’t easy to find!”
“Unicorns?” Alex interrupted, his tone sharp. “Are you saying they were targeting unicorns?”
Wimzy nodded hesitantly. “Wimzy doesn’t know why, but the wizard kept shouting about it. Then he started drawing his wand. Master told Wimzy to run after that.”
Alex pieced the story together in his mind. Wimzy’s master was likely a black-market dealer, meeting the werewolf wizard to trade illicit potions. The deal must have gone south when the goods failed to meet the wizard’s expectations. Perhaps the wizard heard the howling signal from the lone werewolf nearby—this location wasn’t far from the meeting point.
The werewolf wizard, realizing the trade wouldn’t go as planned, had likely decided to eliminate the merchant altogether. A Thunderbolt Charm seemed to be the cause of Wimzy’s injuries and the merchant’s demise. The werewolves had left Wimzy for dead, possibly due to time constraints or simply dismissing the house-elf as unimportant. Still, something didn’t sit right with Alex. Why would a black-market dealer tell his house-elf to run first? He glanced at Wimzy, curious. “Was your master… kind to you?”
Wimzy’s wide eyes brightened, and she nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes! Master was very kind to Wimzy! He only beat Wimzy once every five days and gave Wimzy one whole meal every day!”
Alex blinked, momentarily speechless. ‘That’s your definition of kindness?’ Shaking his head, he pressed on. “Why didn’t you Apparate when your master told you to run? House-elves are naturally skilled at magic, even without wands.”
Wimzy tilted her head, her large eyes blinking innocently. “Wimzy can Apparate! Wimzy uses it all the time to travel with Master. But Master told Wimzy to run, so Wimzy ran!”
Understanding dawned on Alex, though he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity. The merchant likely wanted Wimzy to Apparate them both to safety, but the elf took the instruction literally. Worse, the merchant had likely tried to reach Wimzy during the attack, only to be struck down in the process. Wimzy’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Sir… do you know where Master is? Wimzy misses Master…”