A Tale of the Weorbyn

The weorbyn is a fuzzy creature with black fur and yellow button eyes. Its round stature stands five inches above the ground and its floating demeanor of movement allows it to be mistaken for a ball of dust. The weorbyn is a rare creature, found within the thicket of bushes. Many have forgotten the legend of this small, yet malicious animal. Do not be fooled by its honey-like voice infiltrating your ears and slow blinking, reminiscent of puppy eyes. While a Kraken or Griffin is rightfully feared for their strength and horrific presence, a weorbyn might entice laughter for its small presence and inability to inflict apparent harm; however, those who cross paths with a weorbyn, face deadly repercussions. 

Guide to the Lost Creatures of Deception

***

The Burke family has lived in the quaint town of Avamerre for centuries—well, just a few minutes outside the town where the hills rolled endlessly and mist cloaked the skies from summer to the frosty winters. The air smelled sweetly of grass and the autumn trees were a treat to the eyes. Tourists from all over the country came to see the striking red and orange leaves of the trees native to Avamerre. It was a sight like none other and I could devour this view each day for the foreseeable future. If only the rolling hills near my beautiful home were where I could stay indefinitely. 

The trees and bushes behind our five-bedroom abode with a cream exterior and white picket fence were like a fairytale I had to leave constantly. Living in Avamerre came with its perks, but also an unbearable downside. Avamerre was a distinctly suffocating town—not because of its breathtaking scenery, but because of its foul-mouth, taut townspeople. Gossip flooded the place like the gush of water from Niagara Falls and no one was ever cut slack for having an awful day. The town felt stuck rigidly in the past I knew of from television—where evening parties and old-fashioned dress-ups were held almost every other day. 

I fixed the last lock of curl on top of my head and brushed my lips with the glossy pink lipstick I always ate up before we even reached our destination. 

While I walked down the stairs, my hand gently grazing the wooden banister, my mother yelped from the bottom of the steps. 

“Why, what’s the matter?” I said with a fear-riddled tone. Was my blonde hair too frizzy for her liking? Did I eat up all my lipstick already?

“Cassandra Madeline Burke, you look stunning! That silver dress is doing everything for you. It is especially hiding some of that fat around your stomach very well.” She sounded ecstatic. 

“Thank you, Mom.” My thin lips turned into a frown once I reached the bottom of the steps. With mother cinched in a sultry black dress and her flaming red hair tied neatly in a bun, I looked like an apple that fell from another tree. I peered through the window from the kitchen window and wished to be in my overalls, running through the autumn trees. 

“David!” Mother yelled from the bottom of the staircase. Her neck was craned to the left as she eyed my father slowly walking out of the master bedroom and down the stairs with a calm expression, but I knew the grave irritation that lay beneath his surface. He never liked it when she yelled. 

“Yes, Stephanie, I’m right here.” He adjusted his tie and I noticed his spikey salt and pepper hair had a few more whites than before. As he reached the bottom of the steps, he paused briefly while eyeing Mother and me. “The two of you look immaculate.”

“Yes, darling,” Mother planted a stiff kiss on Father’s cheek. “Now let’s go. We wouldn’t want to be unfashionably late.” 

I looked out the kitchen window again and exhaled at the site of crisp autumn trees and the breeze that ruffled the striking leaves. In that instant, I wished, with all my heart, I didn’t have to go to these parties anymore.

***

When I stepped out of the black Mercedes, I shook my head with all my might and a few pins scattered on the pavement beneath my feet. Cassie, you’re twenty-five now, Mother said from the front seat as she powdered her face for the tenth time. That Benjamin is a doll. He’s from an affluent family, one of the wealthiest in Avamerre. He also studied at Harvard. Do speak to him. Mother finished blotting her lipstick and then, as usual, fixated on my face with the greatest scrutiny. Did you forget to wax your upper lip, Cassie? How many times have I had to tell you to do that? Especially before a party. Please don’t forget next time. As she pointed out each detail of my face while we were in the car, I leaned my forehead against the window and my head bobbled side to side as I longed to be running along the picturesque rolling hills. 

***

Evenings at the Chesters' were always the most decadent. With their patterned tiles, high-rise ceilings, and trays of exquisite canapés you could hardly decipher, the Chesters knew how to throw the most divine parties for the backward people of Avamerre. Benjamin Woodward was at the party and seething looks from Mother forced me to feign a conversation with him. I merely stood next to Benjamin and discreetly mouthed a laugh or two to satisfy my mother from afar. Her flaming red hair caught the eye of many men and women at the party. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and then allowed my footsteps to seize when I saw my reflection in the mirror with dishevelled hair and eaten-up lipstick. My lower lip trembled and I clenched my insides, hoping a breakdown wouldn’t find its way in this flood of frivolity and extravagance. Sounds dampened and movement slowed down as I tried to get through the evening without a single cry. 

***

As our car rolled up into the driveway, Mother and Father were wrapped up in their disputes, to my comfort, and I managed to trot out into the backyard where the autumn trees and the beautiful landscapes of Avamerre were in clear sight. Completely disinterested in my silver dress, I plopped down onto the damp grass and picked up a daisy to inhale its fresh scent. As my eyes closed, I heard the crunching of leaves and shuffling of branches nearby. I quickly whipped my head around, wondering what it could be. It was hard to tell under the mist that cloaked our beautiful skies, but I believed I saw a pair of yellow button-like eyes inside the thicket.

“Cassandra!” My heart pounded at the sound of my name being said in that awful shriek. 

“Coming!” I yelled back and brushed myself off before entering the kitchen through the back door. 

“There you are! We were worried sick,” Mother said.

“I was just in the backyard, that’s all.” I shrugged, diffusing the tension my mother escalated in a heartbeat. 

“Sure.” She blinked rapidly while massaging her temples with those spider-like fingers. “Your father and I will be going for golf tomorrow morning. Do you want to come?”

“I think I’ll pass,” I replied instantly and Mother took a step back to indicate the physical push caused by my harsh verbal communication. I roll my eyes in my head.

“Okay then. We won’t be back till late afternoon tomorrow, will you be fine alone?” 

“Yes, Mom, I’m old enough to handle myself.” She didn’t have the courtesy of rolling her eyes in her head like I did. 

“Good night, darling.” She ambled off to the master bedroom as I stepped outside to inhale the cosy scent of autumn air in Avamerre.

***

I woke up with a lightness knowing I wouldn’t be met with the glares of Mother and Father that morning while descending the staircase, but what I didn’t expect was to meet the yellow button eyes I saw in the bush last night. As I jerked out of bed, a dizzying weight pushed me against the headboard. The little creature with yellow eyes sat quietly at the end of my duvet—its black fuzzy exterior and tiny round frame were adorable. It could be mistaken for a ball of dust, except for those button eyes and tiny ears. 

“Hello.” I heard something inside my head: a melodious voice that allowed the butterflies in my stomach to fly away instantly. 

“Hello?” I question the little creature cautiously. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Are you speaking inside my head?” I was puzzled.

“Yes, that’s how weorbyn communicate.” The little fuzzball said inside my mind as my eyes nearly popped out. 

“What? What’s a weor—, uhh, weorbyn.” I tasted the word in my mouth slowly.

“We’re shapeshifters.” 

“Oh, neat.” I fumbled over my words a few times before asking, “What can you turn into?”

“I can turn into anyone in front of me.” 

“So that means—” Before I could complete the sentence, the weorbyn had fully taken the shape of me. Those thin lips, blonde frizzy hair, and crooked nose were before my eyes like I was staring into the clearest mirror in the world. 

“Hi,” the weorbyn said. 

“Hi?” My voice reached an alarming tone. 

“I’m Cassandra,” it said to me with a smile so much like mine, that I gasped. 

“You look exactly like me. You sound exactly like me!”

“Yes, that’s because I am you.” It said with great conviction. 

“Can you be me for the day once my parents return?” I asked with great hope and was met with the exact response I subconsciously dreamt of all along. 

“I surely can. Like I said, I am you.” The weorbyn smiled and headed off downstairs. 

It took a moment, but I quickly skittered off my mattress and jumped into my overalls, excited for the day ahead. Instead of listening to my mother talk about my bleak future or my untamed unibrow or attending the party hosted by the Fleetwoods in the evening, I could saunter along the rolling hills of Avamerre all day. 

The weorbyn was seated at the dining table. Her back was facing mine as I bounded into the kitchen for a bowl of yogurt and toast for breakfast. My hands were trembling as I glanced at the clock. There were hours till late afternoon, but the possibility of my parents returning earlier than expected couldn’t be ruled out. As I sat on the table with the weorbyn in front of me, she was eating the same breakfast I always did and reading, just like I always did.

“Hi, weorbyn,” I mumbled, unsure of what to call this peculiar creature. 

“Cassie, please call me Cassandra to make things easier.”

“Okay!” I smiled and dug into my yogurt. My smile began to fade as I heard our car roll into the driveway. They were back early, as I feared. “Hey, Cassandra,” I whispered.

“My parents are back early. I’m just going to head out from the kitchen door and you just…be me for today, okay.” I gave her an uncomfortable double thumbs up and she mirrored me. 

“Gotcha,” she said and it sounded like I was listening to a recording of myself.

As I blundered out the kitchen door towards the glorious rolling fields, I heard the distinct creak of the main entrance being opened. 

“You’re back early,” I heard Cassandra say. 

“Your mother wasn’t feeling too well, so we thought we might rest before dinner at the Fleetwoods’ tonight,” Father said. 

“Which reminds me, are you still—” Mother’s voice was fragile. 

“Going to wear the red lace dress you just couldn’t stop talking about the past week? Yes, Mom, let’s get you to bed now. You look weak.” The weorbyn caught on every detail of my life. I had no reason to be preoccupied the whole day. 

***

Darkness cloaked the misty skies of Avamerre as my hand pushed the same doorknob that led me out into the open, to live one day that was truly well spent. After running on the plush green grass barefoot, reading under a large tree that smelled faintly of sap, and eating a creamy butternut squash and cheese toastie while the sun set against the flaming horizon, I spent a day that I wouldn’t forget in a long time. 

All the while, I wondered how Cassandra, the weorbyn, was being tortured in that suffocating red dress at the Fleetwoods’ party. I eyed the dirt stuck underneath my toenails and fingers. It really was a day to remember and that heavy stone weight on my chest was finally lifted. 

I slowly crept into the dim house and then hurried to my bedroom. The car headlights would illuminate the house at any moment.

An hour passed and then another one, but there was no sign of anyone shuffling through the main door. Anxiety crept up in my stomach as I thought of everything that could have gone wrong. What if the weorbyn kidnapped my parents? What if she killed them? Anxiety coursed through my veins and I felt like my insides might explode from the bubbling nervous energy. Fortunately, I heard the faint rumbling of the black Mercedes and laughed at the nonsensical fears I churned up in an instant. 

“There you are! I was worried,” I said as the weorbyn entered the room; heels in hand and feet blistered to a vibrant red colour. 

“I have no idea how you walk in these.” She nudged her head towards the heels—which were now scattered on the floor. “And, this dress is suffocating,” the weorbyn unzipped herself and stood there in the peach-breathable slip dress. 

“Bad night, I guess?” I sat cross-legged on my bed. 

“Not at all, I had a great time. Your mother—I mean, Mom, made me talk to Benjamin. He’s quite lovely. We’re going out for coffee tomorrow.” She said while wearing a set of pajamas very similar to mine. The weorbyn sat in front of my worn-out vanity and scrubbed the makeup off her face vigorously. 

“Oh, okay. I guess I need to pick something to wear for the date tomorrow.” I stared at the floor pensively, perturbed by the changes happening with the presence of the new Cassandra. 

“Cassie, honey! Do you want to come down for a nightcap?” I heard my mother yell from the kitchen. 

“Wow, she’s never asked me that before. I’ll go down now and you can feel free to leave whenever you like.” I headed towards the door, but the weorbyn stepped in front of me as I approached the door. Something about her stance made me squirm on the spot. “Sorry, can I get through?” I said. 

“No need,” the new Cassandra smiled at me, and my body shuddered from fear of that malicious twisted lip. She looked nothing like me at that very moment. “You can rest, I’ll go down. After all, she’s calling me.” 

“No, she’s calling me, I’m her daughter,” I said as I nudged the weorbyn to the side with my elbow. In those few moments, I found myself pinned to the ground with her arm as she whacked me across my face multiple times. My ears rang and something warm swelled around my right eye. I lie there in agony while clutching my face and writhing side to side. The tears stung the slit near my eye and I heard the faint closing of my door; the weorbyn went downstairs for the nightcap I had been looking forward to for a long time. 

***

When I woke up the next morning, I screamed at the top of my lungs for what felt like an eternity. No one could hear me because my body lay sound asleep in bed. The weorbyn hovered over my pale face, peeking out from under the soft duvet. 

“How could you do this!” I yelled as the weorbyn skipped towards the vanity and applied that very pink lipstick I always ended up eating off my lips before any party.

“Why aren’t you listening to me!” I screamed and forced my arm onto her shoulder, but my hand just went right through and I topped over onto the vanity. As Cassandra trotted out of the door, shutting it with an abrupt jerk, I stared into the mirror and realized I no longer existed and no one would ever know. 

***

While other frightful creatures of myth might devour you whole, inflict harm on you, or trap you for days, the weorbyn does something else entirely. The weorbyn becomes you. No one knows the tales of this small creature, for if they did, they would beware of what is to come. Anyone who has crossed paths with this deceptive animal has never lived to tell the tale. For those alive, beware, a weorbyn might be amidst the crowd, disguised as someone you love the most. 

Guide to the Lost Creatures of Deception