The village of Dnullib was not one that many knew of. It was a peaceful little place that didn’t have any sort of excitement, unique exports or important role in Knighton’s economy. It only showed up on a couple of local maps, and for the most part was extremely unnoteworthy. But even the most unnoteworthy of places have their history and legends.

In Dnullib, it’s said that the tallest hill near the village - the one with the small canopy of trees at the top - has a curse over 100 years old. Some say it was by some sort of weather deity, others say it was Forest Monsters. No matter who or what cursed the hill, the villagers believe that going to the top of the hill will transfer the curse to whomever reaches it. Ever since the barkeep’s great-grandfather told his patrons of the bolt of lightning he spied strike the hill on that fateful night, no one in Dnullib has dared to approach it.

Harvey Hillsman, however, did not know this at all.

Harvey was from a town in south Knighton, and an avid hiker. One day, he decided to hike all across the kingdom, so he packed his things and set out. He was now on his way to Dnullib, which he had only learned existed just a couple of weeks ago when he bought a map from a nearby town.

Harvey reached the top of the tallest hill he had seen in the area. It was a bit of a tough climb when he hadn’t encountered many tall hills for a while, but the view of Dnullib from the top of the hill was great payoff. Letting out a sigh of relief, Harvey looked around. He had seen the trees at the top of the hill from behind while climbing up, but looking at them again now revealed they made a lot of shade. It was the perfect place to sit down and have lunch.

Harvey walked up to the canopy as he reached for a strap of his backpack. He came to a stop as something strange caught his eye. Staring at it, he murmured to himself, “Huh…?”

Nestled in the darker shadows was some sort of purple forcefield with a human baby hovering inside. The forcefield itself was more transparent than he thought a forcefield would be, and it was flickering rapidly. The baby looked to be a few months old, fast asleep with no awareness of where they were. Thankfully, they were also clothed.

Harvey took a couple of slow, hesitant steps toward the forcefield as he reached out to it. As soon as his hand connected to it, it vanished in a burst of bright light. The baby immediately stopped hovering. Panicking, Harvey dove forward to catch the falling baby in his arms. Fortunately, the baby fell safely into his arms. Harvey let out a sigh of relief, then stood up.

The baby slowly opened their eyes. They looked up at Harvey, seemingly baffled, for a split second before they started wailing at the top of their lungs.

“Oh no- Oh my god-” Harvey forced a smile as he told the baby, “Hey, hey hey, please stop crying! I’m not going to hurt you! I just found you here, I didn’t mean to… free you from that… force…field…” Harvey sighed. Why was he talking to a baby anyway? They couldn’t understand him. They were a baby.

As beads of cold sweat started to drip down Harvey’s face, he glanced around. His eyes landed back on Dnullib. It was then that the thought occurred to him that he could get help there. If anyone at all knew why there was a forcefield baby on this hill, it would have to be them, right? Without further delay, Harvey jogged down the hill and into Dnullib.

As soon as he entered the center of the village, Harvey called out, “Hey! Hey, excuse me? Can someone help me out please?”

Several townsfolk had turned their attention to him. They walked over to him, curiously eyeing the baby in his arms. One member of this small crowd, a woman in her mid-30s, said, “Of course! What is it that you need help with?”

Harvey took a deep breath in before explaining, “So I was just making my way to town and I got to the top of that tall hill with the trees on it, and I found this baby in some sort of forcefield there? And I accidentally broke the forcefield and now I have this baby? Where… What should I do with them? I can’t raise a baby, I’m just a hiker.”

The crowd, which had since grown a bit in size, stared at him with disturbed looks. The woman then asked, “The tallest hill? With the trees at the top?”

“Uhhh, yes? That’s where I found them.”

The crowd gasped, then broke into hushed murmurs amongst each other. Harvey stared blankly for a few seconds before asking, “Is that a bad thing?”

Another member of the crowd said, “Of course it’s a bad thing! That hill has a curse on it - clearly you haven’t heard.”

A third member corrected, “Had a curse on it! That baby probably is the curse! And this stranger gave it to himself and carried it right into town!”

From there, the crowd devolved into argument. The baby was not pleased by this, and started crying at the top of their lungs again. Harvey nearly jumped when the baby started wailing, but quickly composed himself as best as he could and rocked the baby back and forth while singing a lullaby. The baby couldn’t hear him over the crowd and their own wailing.

The crowd only fell silent after one member got smacked on the back of their head, which caused them to yelp in pain. Everyone in the crowd turned to see the source of their fellow Dnullibian’s pain: an old woman.

“Old Lady Agatha!” one crowd member exclaimed.

“A stranger brought a baby down from the cursed hill!” another told her.

The old woman, Agatha, rolled her eyes before replying, “Please. All of you are too superstitious! Just because someone’s great-grandfather saw lightning strike a hill doesn’t mean it’s cursed!”

The crowd shifted in place, casting their eyes to the ground. By now, the baby was starting to quiet down a little bit.

Agatha let out a loud sigh before saying, “Let me see the baby.”

The crowd parted down the middle in awkward shuffles. Agatha walked down this opened path and up to Harvey. She held out her hands, and Harvey handed the baby to her. The baby fell silent upon being held by Agatha. They looked at her with teary eyes and a quivering lip, and for a moment it seemed that they would start bawling again. But, miraculously, they didn’t.

Agatha smiled at the baby. “You’re a good little bubba, aren’t you?” she cooed. “You’re just scared, that’s all.”

Everyone gathered watched in awe as Agatha cradled the baby in her arms and started bobbing them up and down. The baby started to giggle after a few bounces.

The woman that first talked to Harvey asked, “So… does this mean you’re taking care of this baby now, Old Lady Agatha?”

“Of course it does,” Agatha replied. “None of you lot have the spine to if you think they’re cursed.”

Although glad that the baby now had a home, Harvey was still a bit worried. “Will they be okay without their mother?” he asked Agatha.

“They should be. They look to be a few months old, I think they’ll be fine with cow’s milk,” Agatha told him. She then turned her attention to the baby and cooed to them, “Let’s get you to your new home, little one.”

Harvey and the crowd watched as Agatha headed back to her home, baby in arms. Once she had made a turn that put her out of sight, the crowd turned back to Harvey.

“…I take it you guys don’t want me to stay long?” Harvey asked the crowd.

Their reply was a resounding yes.

---

The weeks in the aftermath of the allegedly ‘cursed’ baby becoming a resident of Dnullib were weeks of adjustment. The second youngest person in the village was the mayor’s daughter, who was a couple of years older than the baby was. It would be weird to have another baby in the town. For Agatha, it would be weird to raise another child after so long. She knew she was up for the task, but to be doing it at such an old age… it was strange. She usually didn’t let it get the best of her.

After the baby was unceremoniously announced to be a boy (Agatha counted gender reveal parties under superstition), she named him Clay. Of course, she had no idea what his mother had named him, but he responded to the name either way. He was an energetic baby; always bouncing and babbling about who-knows-what.

The years went by surprisingly quickly; Clay learned to walk and talk, and he quickly became part of Dnullib, even if he was a part not many liked.

The day after Clay’s fourth birthday was when Agatha told him she wasn’t related to him. His reply was a nonchalant, “I know.” While she was shocked, she was reassured by the fact he had caught on so quickly. So she also told him the story of how he came to Dnullib. He listened intently and absorbed every word, but it was hard to tell if he believed it.

One warm summer’s day, something rarely seen in Dnullib happened. Three men in bright blue armour slowly passed through the village, talking to the townsfolk and making sure everything was alright. Their brightly coloured armour and generally how out of place they looked in the village caught Clay’s attention as he played with his hand-me-down toys by the window.

Clay pointed out the window and turned his head to look at Agatha, who was sitting in her rocking chair nearby, as he asked, “Agatha, who are those people? Why are they dressed like that?”

Agatha cast a glance out the window before returning her eyes to Clay and replying, “Those are knights. They protect the kingdom from danger and help people in need. The armour they wear helps protect them.”

Clay’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Really,” Agatha confirmed with a nod.

“That’s so coooooool!” Clay started bouncing a little as he said, “I wanna be just like them!”

With an amused chuckle, Agatha told him, “Well, you’ll have to do a lot of learning and hard work. Being a knight isn’t easy.”

“That’s okay! I’ll work super hard! I’ll be the best knight ever!” To emphasise his point, Clay threw his hands into the air as he said ‘ever.’

Agatha’s smile was as wide as can be. “That’s good to hear. Maybe one day you’ll get into the Knight’s Academy.”

From that day on, it was Clay’s dream to become a knight. He would often let his imagination run wild as he commanded his very own squad of imaginary knights. He would use going out to get more food for Agatha and sweeping the house as opportunities to practice his knightly ways. He would do as much as he could for Agatha as she fell ill - she said herself that a knight helps those in need. Even as she passed away during the next winter, Clay held onto his dream.