“Seark,” she said firmly. The inflection in her voice caused the unicorn to turn toward her. “I cannot…will not do this anymore. The time has come for you to let me go,” she stated, clearly indicating that it was not a request.
Seark looked upon the kelpie sternly for several moments before bursting into laughter. “You speak utter nonsense. I thought you above such things, yet I thank you for the laugh. Now return to your work and trouble me no more with meaningless defiance,” he commanded.
“No,” said Kelisay simply.
The fire in Seark’s eyes rose as he stepped toward Kelisay. “No? No? You do not get to tell me no. Not now. Not ever in this world! I am Seark and you are beneath me. Such rebelliousness is laughable at best. Now silence yourself at once!”
“No,” said Kelisay again, shaking her head.
Seark offered a feral snarl. “Then perhaps you need a lesson in understanding your place,” he growled.
“Or perhaps you need a lesson in humility,” countered Kelisay.
The room began to tremble with Seark’s displeasure. “I will give you one more chance at reason before I am forced to break you. I suggest you take it,” he said.
“It is I who offer you a final chance, Seark,” said Kelisay defiantly. “Show me there is more to you than just greed. Show me this and I may yet stay as a companion instead of a piece of property. I still wish to believe there is good in you. Please prove me right.”
Seark barked more harsh laughter. “You are a fool, kelpie, for you could never be my equal. I am Seark, son of Ornock the Land Guardian of all Lunaria. I have power you can never hold, and I am elevated above all other creatures. If you value your life, you will know your place and be silent once and for all,” he said.
Kelisay nodded. “Very well then, Seark. I do know my place. And it is not here,” she replied.
Seark shook his head. “Then let the lesson begin,” he said, advancing upon her.
“Yes, let it,” replied Kelisay as she set herself to action.
Kelisay drew upon the amulet around her neck and the water offered to her from Elor. The kelpie sent a rush of force and steam upon Seark, temporarily blinding the great unicorn. As Seark howled in surprise and pain, Kelisay used the water she possessed to draw from the ground around her. It was an endeavor made easier by the amulet, for she could feel its power bolstering her, yet she was uncertain still if it would be enough. She brought these waters bursting through the walls of Seark’s home, crashing mud and liquid upon him. She then froze the gathered water, buying herself time to garner her escape.
Kelisay looked about the place frantically. Seark was already fighting his way through her trap and he was placed between her and the door. The great unicorn began lashing out with the land about him as he struggled towards freedom. Kelisay had to avoid his rage in the form of flying debris as Seark’s home quickly fell to shambles. Kelisay looked up as the ceiling began to give way. She quickly realized that it was her way out. She gathered her full will and what waters she could as she channeled her focus into one daring attempt as Seark freed himself from her trap.
“Kelisay!” Seark bellowed as he charged toward her.
Kelisay could hear him, but refused to be distracted by his fury. Drawing all the strength that she could, the kelpie sent the waters encircling her to spiral upward, allowing herself to be pulled in its wake. Kelisay shot straight up, tearing through the ceiling and the dirt beyond it as Seark vainly grasped at her. She could feel the rock and soil around her scraping at her skin, trying to hold her back, but she refused it. Kelisay pushed strongly, unwilling to hold back or be forced to return to the clutches of her tormentor.
The kelpie almost cried out in joy when the soil opened and coughed her out. Dirt and rock spat outward as Kelisay recovered. The light of the Firestar hit her skin and reminded her she was closer to freedom than she had been in some time. Clearing her eyes and working through the pain, Kelisay looked skyward as she drew the remainder of the water to her to take to the air. It was there that she would be free of Seark. It was her only chance.
“No!” Seark’s voice raged in her wake as the lands came alive to assault Kelisay. The kelpie screamed as a tendril of land wrapped around one of her hind legs, attempting to pull her back down. As Kelisay fought it, she looked down to see Seark slowly rising from the hole she had just created. The fury in his eyes motivated her further as she fought harder than she ever had in her life.
“Release me,” Kelisay commanded.
The unicorn shook his head, unmoved. “You belong to me, now and forever!” Seark roared as he formed more tendrils of land to reclaim his prize.
Kelisay’s eyes widened as she saw the tendrils rise to swarm her. She was so close now, yet she could feel the waters running dry. She was still in Seark’s element and at a great disadvantage. By the time she gathered more water it would be too late. She had one chance and precious seconds to accomplish it. Looking at Seark’s eyes again, she let herself focus on his selfish tirade. It was enough to harvest her last-ditch effort.
“Never again,” she grunted to her captor as she placed her entire will into once final action.
Drawing on the waters and amulet, Kelisay used them both to propel herself upward. The kelpie shot like lightning, tearing through the tendrils set on reclaiming her. The winds whipped through her mane as she heard Seark’s displeasure from below. Higher and higher she rose, unsure and uncaring about her destination, so long as she was free of the unicorn.
At last, Kelisay reluctantly opened her eyes. There before her was an open sky as she soared for all that she was worth. Instantly she relished the sensation, elated to be free again at long last. She wept with joy as the winds and magic swept her further and further from Seark’s clutches. Yet she would not stop, not until she could no longer hear the bellowing rage of her tormenter in the distance.
Kelisay pushed herself harder than she ever had in her life. Now free, she promised herself she would never be caged again. The distance between her and Seark increased, but she refused to stop despite the strain she placed upon herself. Kelisay grabbed what water from the air that was required to keep pushing forward, fixated on only that Seark would not be there when she landed. And so she pushed on into the night, further and further until exhaustion claimed her and she came crashing down upon the ground and into the dark unknown.
The Price of Choices
Thorn-Ren
With the Firestar waning in the deep sky, Alethia readied for nightfall. Through the dusking skyline, the town of plants looked colorful and glorious as its inhabitants prepared for rest. The great tree Nibiru stood stoically above the plants; a silent protector and giver of renewed life. Even in the distance, the sight of it drew heavily upon the heart of young Thorn-Ren the milk thistle.
The little weed watched with purpose and joy, for he had two reasons to appreciate the view. Alethia always held a sway over him with its beauty, even if he was only allowed to appreciate it from afar. Soon the Firestar would fully set, and he would embrace the joy that awaited him in the form of Calla. The anticipation that filled him made his heart flutter in the most splendid of fashions.
To Thorn-Ren, the setting Firestar seemed reluctant to relinquish its light as the little weed began to fidget. He’d not felt in such a way before and was still trying to deal with such feelings. Calla simply resonated with him and the fact that she could see past him being a weed made things even more exciting and terrifying to Thorn-Ren. And so, he willed his limbs to stillness and practiced a very difficult bout with patience.
At last, Thorn-Ren was rewarded with nightfall and he wasted not a moment of it. Stealthily the little weed made his way toward Alethia, careful not to alert any of its people or guard. After his last encounter with Lennix and his comrades, Thorn-Ren was going to be careful with his chances. Yet even as he carried like a whisper to Nibiru and Alethia, Thorn-Ren knew somehow that such a risk was truly worth the price.
Reaching the edge of
the town, Thorn-Ren removed the pack he had brought, carefully procuring one of its contents. He felt foolish at his next endeavor, yet he would accept such foolishness for Calla. Brandishing a hat fashioned with flower petals, Thorn-Ren placed it on his head as he hunkered down and grew still as stone. Now what was left to him was to wait.
“Well my, my,” came an enchanting voice through the darkness. “Don’t you look altogether cute and silly.”
Thorn-Ren smiled yet kept his face hidden under the large flowery hat. “A fee that must be paid for exquisite company. So, I implore you not to ruin it by blowing my cover,” he whispered.
Calla chuckled as she looked on at him. Though he was not looking at her, it was quite easy to remember and imagine her beauty by memory. “Well I grant you points for creativity, but I do not see this ruse passing anything but the lightest scrutiny,” offered Calla teasingly.
“Indeed,” whispered Thorn-Ren. “Which is why it is meant only for a brief duration, preferably to arrange a time and location for a more formal and less silly reunion,” he said.
“Of course,” said Calla with a giggle. The sound lifted his spirits further. “I just felt the need to tease you somewhat. I needed the time to remember this scene always in my mind.”
“Oh, very well,” mumbled Thorn-Ren. “I hope the sight is now burned merrily upon your memory. That being satisfied, are we still on for this evening?”
“Indeed, silly,” said Calla. “Where is it that we shall meet?”
The excitement built in Thorn-Ren as he replied. “Meet me at the Oaken Grove in one hour’s time. I’ve a surprise for you there, Calla,” he said.
Calla laughed softly again. “You mean there is more to this gift than seeing you in this attire? Why, Thorn-Ren, I do believe myself to be spoiled on this night,” she replied.
“Indeed,” said the little weed before raising his head to grin at her. “I shall see you then.”
“Yes, you will,” replied Calla.
Thorn-Ren took her right hand softly before kissing it gently as he savored the sensation and the feelings it wrought. “Until then,” he offered before turning and heading off.
“Bring the costume!” Calla whispered loudly, playfully in his wake.
“You’ve had enough fun at my expense for one night, I’m afraid,” he challenged back before sprinting off into the night.
As anticipation swelled within him, Thorn-Ren made his way toward the Oaken Grove, careful again not to alert others of his presence. The little weed had been preparing for this evening for some time and was overjoyed at finally being able to see Calla once more. With as much difficulty that came in acquiring such a rendezvous, Thorn-Ren was going to make the absolute most of it. He now ran to his destination with renewed vigor, refusing to offer Calla anything less than a perfect evening.
Reaching his destination, Thorn-Ren took a moment to reclaim his breath. Smiling, he looked upon the grove. The ample tree cover and gentle grasses made it the ideal location for his evening with Calla. The little weed had searched the area with great care, seeking out the best place for a picnic while gathering all the necessary items for the evening. Now recovered, the little weed set about to work, putting the last details on his preparations.
Rushing to the tree he had marked, Thorn-Ren removed a cover he had fashioned from a fallen branch, revealing the contents he had hidden earlier. There rested a small basket of food and drink, a cloth for sitting and a small bag tied closed with twine. Thorn-Ren gathered all the materials, taking them to the heart of the grove. It was there he laid down the cloth before setting out the food and drinks. He didn't know what Calla enjoyed, so the little weed was happy to offer a variety.
Satisfied at the set-up, Thorn-Ren picked up the tiny sack, undoing the twine that held it closed. As soon as it had opened, a warm shine rose from within. Thorn-Ren smiled at the sight, thinking to himself the trade he had made with the woodland sprites of the area had been worth it. Reaching into the bag, Thorn-Ren procured the handful of the spritelytes he had obtained. Rubbing them together in his little hands, the little weed activated their magic before tossing them in to the air. The spritelytes scattered as they ascended, settling some feet above the ground and offering a cheerful light to the Oaken Grove. Thorn-Ren took a moment to admire his work, hoping it was enough of an effort to impress Calla.
With his preparations complete, Thorn-Ren gave himself a once-over, making sure he had not made a mess in his rush. He was wearing all new clothes he had fashioned on his own and had bathed in a nearby stream. His thistles had been combed and his belt straightened. Thorn-Ren thought about leaving his little thorn daggers behind but could not bring himself to relinquish his caution. He wished to have this night with Calla but would not sacrifice her safety no matter how safe he thought they were.
Content, Thorn-Ren nodded upon awaiting picnic. "Well that about does it. Now we wait," said the little weed to himself, satisfied. Yet this satisfaction was quickly marred by nervousness welling in his stomach.
Minutes etched by with dull slowness, enough so that Thorn-Ren was almost convinced that time was taunting him. He hated having so much time to think, to worry if Calla was okay or if she was even still coming. To busy himself, the little weed drew his daggers and practiced strikes and blocks, hoping that the activity would speed up time once more. But even such an endeavor did little to quell his nerves.
It was when he felt the wait would not end that the stillness was ravaged. Thorn-Ren was startled by a loud crash. He turned in the sound’s direction, weapons at the ready. The little weed hovered in complete silence for long moments before he heard a creature’s cry of pain. Instantly he felt himself pulled in the direction of that cry, yet something gave him pause then. Frozen in place, Thorn-Ren suddenly felt a soft, subtle voice permeate his thoughts.
There is no need to trouble yourself with such matters. You have done your part. All that you desire, all that you want in the world will soon be in this grove. Do not tempt the fates. Relish in what you have earned. All is how it should be.
The little weed felt the influence press upon him and felt even more rooted to the ground. He clenched to the little daggers in his hands as he closed his eyes. Temptation and justice pulled him east and west. This moment was a moment he had waited for all his life; to feel something as true as the stars shimmering down their light.
The creature cried out once more. In his stillness, Thorn-Ren could even hear the faint sounds of a struggle. Whatever was transpiring was escalating quickly. Thorn-Ren had a feeling it would not be long now. Still he held to his daggers as the unnatural compulsion held him in place.
For every action, just or wicked, there are consequences. Do not tempt the fates. No one has to know.
Thorn-Ren shook his head. “But I will know, and it will be burned upon my soul for all time. And I would never be able to face Calla’s eyes without such a knowledge ever again,” he said to the compulsion holding him at bay. “And for that, I must go,” he added before charging forward. As he did so he could swear he heard the soft sounds of laughter.
Thorn-Ren rushed quickly through the darkness, leaving the comfort brought by the spritelytes. Ahead of him, the sounds of struggle intensified. Soon he could hear voices as well, and the familiar sounds of these voices made his heart sink. His guts told him that his brethren of Bunda-Bas were up to no good and no good would come of this for the little weed. But still he pressed on.
With the Oaken Grove behind him, Thorn-Ren pushed further into the gentle forest that rested between Alethia and Bunda-Bas. He soon came to a small clearing and it was there he found the source of the commotion. Before him, Thorn-Ren saw sentries from his home engaged with what appeared to be a magical horse of some kind. The creature was beautiful and toted a glowing amulet around its neck. Currently, the horse was fighting against vines that had it ensnared while trying to keep the weed sentries at bay.
Instantly, Thorn-Ren saw Pyron leading the charge as he and his underlings att
empted to get the advantage on their larger quarry. The magical vines they had used upon the horse would only work for so long. It appeared to Thorn-Ren that Pyron was seeking a killing blow. If he had to guess, the little weed surmised it was all due to the magical amulet around the horse’s neck, for such an acquisition would indeed be a boon for any who laid claim to it.
Regardless, it was still not right, and Thorn-Ren knew he had to act. Looking about, Thorn-Ren took note of the three sentries holding little torches, the two trying to maintain the vine trap and the six others including Pyron trying to bring the horse down. Taking a few calming breaths, Thorn-Ren prepared himself as a plan formed in his mind. And when the horse cried out as Pyron jumped upon its back, the little weed knew the time had come to act.
With all focus set upon the horse, Thorn-Ren sprinted forward into the skirmish. Throwing three of his thorns with great precision, Thorn-Ren snuffed out all three torches before he crashed through a few of the sentries. Leaping upward, the little weed kicked Pyron for all he was worth, sending the sentry leader toppling off the horse. With precious few seconds to use, Thorn-Ren made quick swipes with his daggers, cutting the horse free of the vines.
“Flee while you can,” hissed Thorn-Ren as he leaped from the horse and sprinted into the night.
As Thorn-Ren fled, he could hear the hoofbeats of the horse as it fled from its captors. Through that, he could hear Pyron shouting curses and orders. Thorn-Ren knew that they would give the horse chase, but still some may come after him. The little weed kept a hard pace, changing direction often and doing what he could to cover his tracks. He ran until all he could hear again were the sounds of the night. Coming to hide in some bushes, Thorn-Ren caught his breath as he made sure that he had eluded anyone giving chase.
Several minutes passed and Thorn-Ren saw no indication that he had been pursued. His little foray had been successful. Still not taking any chances, the little weed made a cautious venture back to the Oaken Grove, pausing periodically to make sure he was still in the clear. At last, when he could see the glow of the spritelytes once more, the little weed picked up his pace. A slow smile crept upon his face as the anticipation once again returned.
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