It Is Said (Mathias Bootmaker and the Keepers of the Sandbox) by Edward Medina

Village Darke, where it is said that for many years its people lived and worked in relative peace and happiness. Under the governance of the Darke family, they lived their lives without incident, raising their children to grow up to be skilled artisans, industrious farmers and smart shopkeepers.”
    “They worked together as a community, to solve whatever problems arose, and they celebrated together whenever something wonderful happened, as they did the day when Lady Darke gave birth to their firstborn. A son.   They named him Oracle.”
    There was a loud bang as the innkeeper began to shutter the large windows. Satisfied they were secured, he snatched his knife from the table and returned it to the sheath at his hip. He closed the door and locked it. He slid the key from the keyhole and held it up for Alma to see.
    “There will be no wanderings for you tonight. After this, this story you’re telling to this stranger. It won’t be safe for you to be out and about.”
    “It’s never safe for anyone to be out and about,” she whispered under her breath.
    The innkeeper did not hear what she said, but he could recognize her mumblings of defiance. He began mumbling himself as he walked back behind the bar to the storeroom. He slammed the door hard.
    Alma looked at the closed door and smiled a strange little smile. She reached behind her stool for a long thin cane that rested against the wall. Rejecting an offer of assistance from Mathias, the woman pushed herself up with the aid of the cane. She was much taller than Mathias had first thought.  
    She seemed to glide gently across the stone floor of the inn. Her long layered skirt trailed respectfully behind her. She moved around the room to each of the other tables and blew every candle out until only the one on her table remained. Finished setting the stage, Alma returned the cane to its proper place against the wall, sat down slowly, and faced Mathias once more.
    “As time passed and little Oracle grew up, Lord and Lady Darke were consumed with the affairs of ruling the land and running a well organized and efficient household and as such, had less and less time for him. Feeling very lonely, being the only child in a huge castle, Oracle, like many children his age, created an imaginary friend to keep him company.”
    Alma quickly turned to the empty stool to her right.  
    “What was that you said?” she asked in a child’s voice, of no one there.   “Oh, of course,” came her reply to the air.   “No, I promise no one will ever know, but remember, you are my friend and you will only do my bidding.”
    “And he kept this secret,” she said to Mathias in her own hypnotic voice. “This was his friend, and no one else could play.”
    The woman began to gather the extra layers of fabric from her skirt that rested on her lap.   She bunched up the cloth until it formed a little bundle.  
    “Oracle was ten when Lord and Lady Darke had another baby, a little girl they named Rebecca.”
    Alma could see the baby in the bundle she had created. She nestled it in the crook of her arm. She playfully wiggled her finger in front of the bundle baby’s face. She rocked it gently back and forth. She spoke sweetly to the child.  
    “Instead of being happy that he would now have company and someone real to play with, your brother could only imagine how you would soon take away whatever little attention your parents had afforded him before you were born. As you grew older, his heart grew ever colder.
    “He spent hours conspiring with his imaginary friend ruminating about how grand it would be if your parents disappeared, leaving him to be supreme ruler of his kingdom. What would your fate be then, sweet little Rebecca?”
    She slowly released the bundle of fabric from her grasp, and the baby disappeared. The candlelight had caught Alma’s eye. Mathias followed her gaze as it swept down the length of the candle. She found a spot on the table just in front of the brass