As Mark and Anabel made their way to the caravan to see them off with the rest of the villagers, Anabel leaned in further on the arm that she was holding hands with Mark with and grabbed his arm with her free hand. They wordlessly made their way to the middle of the village, where the caravan was finishing up with packing their wagons.
Upon their approach to the middle of the village, where they started to see the beginning of the caravan and the villagers watching the caravan people pack up, Mark and Anabel were stopped by the crazy witch lady who was approaching from one of the sidepaths leading to the main road from her area in the village.
"Mark! Mark! Maaarrrrk!"
Alerted by the gravely old voice of the witch lady, Mark and Anabel turn to see her running toward them. More like hobbling toward them since her knees weren't very good anymore in her old age.
"I did it! Look Mark! I finished the potion!!"
It was awkward seeing the old frail lady running at them at a full spring with her cane and hunched back and all.
Mark couldn't help but think, 'Oh, great. Why did she have to come up with another blood concoction today? And where the hell did she get the blood?'
Anabel turned to Mark to ask, "What is the crazy old witch lady talking about?"
Mark turned to Anabel in reply, "She is trying to make a blood potion that I can drink, though every one so far has made me sick. I indulge her only because my father told me of the time she saved my mother's life when my mother was sick when she was still a child."
Meanwhile, the crazy old witch lady was still hobbling toward them with her cane, but now she had a box in her other hand, which she seemed to be cradling with utmost care.
When she finally made it to Mark and Anabel, who had stopped in the middle of the road near the sidepath that the old lady was taking, she bent over her cane for a few seconds as she caught her breath.
"Whew, I almost didn't make it there! Hehehehe!"
She randomly started crackling when she was done breathing hard, showing why they called her the crazy old witch lady.
When she was done laughing, she held out the box for Mark to take.
"This here is the final form of my potion, and it should not make you sick this time! Just indulge this crazy old lady one last time, hmm, Mark?"
Mark reached out and grabbed the box with reluctance. He had never been sick before trying these potions, so the experience was one he was hesitant to experience again.
Nevertheless, Mark grabbed the box and pulled it to his side.
"I really hope this is the last one, old woman. The potions really make me feel like I am dying at times."
The old lady started crackling at the reply from Mark.
"Hehehe!! Oh, I believe this one will be quite the opposite experience!"
Then she leaned in to whisper to them, suddenly with a serious expression on her face.
"Just don't let the caravan people see it."
Then she promptly turned around and hobbled back toward her home.
Anabel just looked at Mark in confusion, to which Mark replied with a shrug to imply this is just how the old lady always interacts with him. With the weird experience out of the way, they went to find a good spot where they could see the caravan off.
They settled into a spot where they could wave off Mr. Li and then the other crazy old lady with the good food as they passed. There were no other villagers who were too close, so they could have some privacy without having to overhear the nosy village gossip.
While waiting for the caravan to make its final preparations before setting off, Mark went ahead and opened the small wooden box to see what the crazy old witch lady had prepared for him.
There was no bottle in the box, just a spongy-looking cake that was blood red in color. Mark poked it, finding that it also had the feel of a moist cake.
'What a weird thing to call a potion. . .'
Seeing that Mark was playing with the box, Anabel nudged him to let him know the caravan was leaving. Mark looked up to see the wagons being pulled by, and soon Mr. Li and his wagon started to pass.
Mark and Anabel waved to their friends as they passed, and when everyone they wanted to wave off was gone, Mark went back to looking at the weird potion the crazy old witch lady gave him.
During his examination, at some point, a young child appeared and started looking at it with him. Mark noticed the child after a while and turned to get a good look at him.
'Hmm, this is no child that I know.'
Seeing that Mark was looking at him, the child looked up into Mark's eyes.
"Hello, mister, what is that you have there in the box?"
Mark smiled and spoke softly to the child.
"Oh, this is just a potion the crazy old witch lady made me, but who are your parents? I bet they are worried that you have wandered off."
The young child stroked their chin out of habit, almost like they were used to stroking a beard.
Then the child asked, "How old are you, mister?"
Mark played along and replied, "I am turning 16 in just a couple of weeks when the winter really sets in. And, how old are you, kid?"
The kid just shook his head, and took on a serious look.
"Mark, you need to consume that potion as soon as possible. The sooner the better. In fact, I would have you consume it today if possible. Do not forget to use it before you turn 16."
Mark was a bit stunned, but was pulled out of his shock when Anabel spoke up from next to him.
"Mark, who are you talking to?"
Mark looke over at Anabel to reply.
"Ah, I was talking to this kid. . ."
When Mark turned to gesture to the young child, there was no one there.
Anabel stated the obvious in confusion, "There is no one there, Mark. . ."
Mark laughed a little and replied, "It must have been a caravan kid messing with me. Probably why the old lady said not to let the caravan people see it. I bet he saw his parents going by and ran after them."
Anabel just nodded her head, accepting his answer, and went back to watching the rest of the caravan leave.
Mark, though, looked down at the box in his hands with a bit of unease.
'Did he hear someone calling me by name, or is there something more going on with that kid? . . .'
After the caravan had left the village, Mark and Anabel went their separate ways, since it would be easier for Anabel to make it to her home in the dark from this point in the village.
Mark made it out to his house, thinking about his weird encounter with the child, and as he passed the elder tree, the weird bird made its weird sounding coos.
Mark got a shiver down his spine and quickly made it to his hovel, where he lit a lamp and set the box on the table before sitting down to take a look at it.