by Faith Naff
Shimmer couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. Her body trembled just at the sight of this strange woman. She was like a tree that had taken elven form, a sentient being grown from the floor of the forest itself. She had no idea what to make of it. “Who… what are you?” she asked in a trembling voice.
The mysterious creature gave no response. She only turned sharply and began moving off deeper into the woods towards the north.
“Wait!” Shimmer shouted as she gave chase. It was unbelievable. This creature moved through the forest as if it wasn’t there. Her form passed through thick briars and dense bushes as if they were puffs of fog after a heavy rain. Shimmer had no hope of keeping up, but she was determined to keep this creature in her sights for as long as she could. Even once the mysterious tree-woman could no longer be seen, Shimmer continued to chase on in the direction she had been going.
Rounding around the trunk of a large oak, Shimmer was surprised to find the creature once again standing in front of her, but this time she was not looking back at the frustrated and confused elf chasing her. Instead, her gaze was downward, resting upon the forms of two elves lying on the ground. Shimmer looked down and gasped. It was her parents.
Relief first came when she saw them stirring. They were alive. With a racing heart and rapid breaths she ran to them and fell to her knees. The mysterious creature leapt into the air as Shimmer approached. She spread her arms out wide and gazed up into the brightening sky as her body began to rapidly change shape. In the blink of an eye, she had become a small birch tree with roots deeply imbedded in the soil and thick, full foliage that rustled in the morning breeze.
Though astounded and confused by the creature’s miraculous and sudden transformation, Shimmer’s first priority was to her parents. She grasped her mother by the shoulders and gently shook her awake. “Mother!” she cried out.
Slowly, her mother opened her eyes. She was dazed and unsure of where she was or how she’d gotten there, but seeing the face of her beloved daughter hovering over her brought a warm smile to her face. “Our little Twig,” she said warmly. That wasn’t Shimmer’s name anymore, but she didn’t care. To have her family alive and safe after such a terrible ordeal, she would gladly be their little Twig once again.
Chapter V
The trail of the escaping savage hoard hadn’t been hard for Valdin and his small army to pick up and follow. A myriad of broken limbs, parted shrubbery, and deep footprints gave away their course like a bonfire burning in the dead of night. Leading the way, Valdin pushed on through the flattened and broken trail blazed through the wild sections of the forest. They were at the edge of elven territory and moving southwest towards the faerie’s part of the forest.
The stream marked the boundary visually, but not all borders in the forest were understood by sight. An experienced ranger knew when he had crossed from one tribe’s region to the next by feel. Not all of the civilized races worshipped the Lady, but those that did each had their own high priestess, a woman that spent her entire life learning the magical arts.
For the elves, that high priestess was none other than Rosewood herself, who also presided as ruler of the village. The high priestess’ powers were unimaginably great and she, like the faerie’s own high priestess, cast a certain aura about the lands under her control. If you were traveling and the air suddenly felt different, or your mood changed rapidly for no reason, it was a sure sign you had crossed a border in the forest and the new energy was playing with your mind.
The army of elves marched behind him, each with weapon in hand and carrying a rage that could only come from hunting down the creatures that had destroyed their homes. Valdin was pleased. These were the kinds of companions to bring into battle, not like those two weakling females back in Moon-hollow. He shook his head as he walked. Why did they still fill his thoughts, the one with the fiery hair especially? He couldn’t shake the thought of her, even though those thoughts brought him only contempt and disdain.
“How far do you think they’ve gotten?” asked another Harmonious as he raced to the head of the pack with Valdin. His long, blond hair trailed behind him in a thick braid and his face was covered by a full beard with braided mustache.
“Their markings get fresher as we follow the path,” Valdin answered. “We are outpacing them.”
“A positive sign,” the other human said. “Do we have a plan once we catch up with them?”
“Scouts will go first and assess their movements,” Valdin said. “They may be anticipating an attack and I won’t send these men into a fight they can’t win.”
The other human laughed. “You really think these savages are smart enough to foresee anything?”
Valdin halted and turned his head towards the other human. “I think I will not underestimate an enemy that took us by such complete surprise.”
The other human took a step back. “I meant no offense,” he said. “I only…”
Valdin suddenly raised his hand to shush his human companion. Silenced, the blond human watched as Valdin shut his eyes and let out a long exhale. He was puzzled. Valdin acted as though he was listening for a sound that wasn’t there.
“What is he doing?” A spiky-haired male elf asked as he approached.
The blond human shrugged his shoulders.
Valdin’s eyes were fluttering under his eyelids. His body was stalk still and he didn’t make a single sound even when addressed directly. Finally, his eyes reopened. “They are coming,” he said.
A flurry of activity moved through the troops like a driving wind racing through the treetops. Swords were drawn, arrows were knocked, and eyes darted around wildly as panicked soldiers rotated in place, searching the trees for any sign of hostility.
Valdin’s hands shot out to either side of his body in a gesture for everyone to lower their weapons. “No! It is not the hoard!” he shouted. “Everyone lower your weapons!”
“What could be coming then?” the blond human asked as he continued to scan the surrounding forest with sword in hand.
“It is something that will prove far more dangerous if you don’t put that weapon down!” Valdin said. His eyes were searching the forest as well, but his were staring up into the treetops above. A chill ran down his spine as he heard the call of a sparrow hidden in the branches. More bird sounds began to fill the air. At least a dozen distinct sounds calling back and forth between the trees.
“Quite a few birds to gather so suddenly,” the spiky-haired elf said. His blade was still in his hand as he circled over and over in place.
“Those aren’t birds,” Valdin responded. “We mean you no harm!” he suddenly shouted up towards the treetops. “Our objective is the savage hoard that stole our harvest! Please, allow us safe passage!”
“Who are you talking to?” the blond human asked. He tone was shifting from questioning to demanding. “How do you know something’s even out there?”
“This is ridiculous!” the spiky-haired elf shouted as he resumed his march towards the edge of the stream. With sword in hand he bounded hastily onward, stomping his feet with each step out of frustration. “The hoard is escaping with our harvest and we’re standing around shouting at birds!”
“Come back!” Valdin cried out. “You must come back!”
The blond human was rather perplexed. Valdin’s wide eyes and short breaths suggested to him that he was genuinely terrified. If it weren’t for these signs, he would be marching off after the elf. What could have him so frightened?
The spiky-haired elf stepped into the cool, running water of the stream and was upon the other shore soon after. “I can’t believe you’re all wasting so much…” He suddenly stopped talking. Actually, the young elf had stopped moving as well. He was completely still, frozen in place mid-step with sword in hand. Everyone fell silent, watching the elf on the far shore for any sign of movement. At last, the young elf’s sword fell from his hand, landing in the grass with a soft thud. He dropped to his knees and fell forward onto his face, never to
rise again.
The elf army’s ranks became a sea of chaos. Shouts and cries filled the air as a flurry of moment rustled the low-lying plant life on the forest floor. Valdin knew he could not control this frightened group of elves and humans. They lacked understanding and had never faced a foe like this before. He knew more death here was avoidable, but he would have to somehow prove that he spoke for the whole and make their invisible adversary see that they were no threat.
As the army panicked, Valdin made his way to the edge of the stream. His soldiers were making such a fuss they didn’t even notice he’d moved. They were too busy spinning around in place with their weapons ready, looking for an enemy they would never see. He stopped at the water’s edge, not daring to take even one step off of dry land. With his feet locked firmly in place, Valdin pulled his sword from its sheath and thrust the tip down into the water-logged soil beside him.
“What are you doing?!” the blond human shouted as he finally realized the man responsible for leading them to this unknown danger had wandered off. He began rushing towards the edge of the river, but stopped when Valdin’s hand rose up beside his head in a gesture for him to halt. Restlessly still, the blond human watched on with confusion and anxiety. He had no idea what was happening, what Valdin knew, or what he was attempting to do.
Assured he would remain alone, Valdin crossed his hands in front of him with his open palms facing towards him. His thumbs wrapped around each other and his fingers turned slightly upward. Keeping his hands in this position he slowly raised them up over his head. The army behind him had quieted. Though he wasn’t looking back at them, he could imagine the strange looks they were giving as his quirky behavior became more interesting than the imminent danger they were in.
With his hands up in the air, his palms open, and his thumbs wrapped together, it was no time at all before their visitors finally made themselves visible. From behind the leaves, inside the bushes, around the trunks, and over the flowers came swarms of small faeries. The tiny creatures lifted off into the air, hovering in place. The males had four, slender wings like that of a dragonfly. The females had large, colorful wings like butterflies. Standing an average of six inches tall, faeries looked much like tiny elves. Their features were very bony and jagged, with a wide range of skin tones. They had tight skin about their long faces with small mouths and enormous eyes.
The swarms of faeries filled the air like bees from a ruined hive, looking down on the army of elves and humans with a mix of curiosity and distrust. A single male dashed over the stream from the far side and stopped just in front of Valdin’s face. He had darkly bronzed skin with wavy, black hair and dark eyes.
Valdin lowered his hands. “Thank you,” he said.
The male faerie glared at him. “If you seek retribution for your fallen elf you will find none,” he said. “He crossed our border off the path of a safe road and with weapon drawn. The laws of the Tri-leaf Pact permit…”
“I’m aware of the law,” Valdin replied. “You are right. My man acted foolishly and deserved what he got. Please know that he did not represent the intentions of the rest of us.”
“Which are what exactly?” the fae asked.
“We track a hoard of goblins and trolls that marched through here,” Valdin answered. “They attacked Moon-hollow without warning or provocation and made off with our harvest. If we do not retrieve what was stolen, we will not last the winter.”
The faerie rested his right hand on the hilt of a tiny dagger on his belt. At his side was a small bladder filled with a mysterious red liquid. He made no motion to draw it. His intention was to subtly remind the human that it was there and that he was in charge of the situation.
Valdin nodded slightly in response. He knew how to interpret the faerie’s understated, non-verbal communication. A blade that tiny would do little more injury to a human or elf than scraping bare skin against a thorn. It was the bladder below that made the fae a force to be reckoned with. The blade itself was no threat, but a blade coated in that liquid meant instant death after no more than a scratch, a lesson his spiky-haired elf soldier had tragically learned the hard way. Faeries were experts with the most deadly potions conceivable, making an army of faeries a difficult thing to battle for even the largest of creatures.
“We saw your hoard pass through,” the male faeries said. “You are tracking them westward, but that is not the path they took to Moon-hollow; when they came upon you, the came from the south.”
“They must have passed directly by Windsong then,” Valdin said.
“They did,” the faerie answered.
As Valdin stood face to face with the tiny faerie hovering before him, a peculiar realization crossed his mind. He knew their path would take them across the border into faerie territory, and not on a Tri-leaf Safe Road, but this was on the outskirts of their realm, far from the village of Windsong that sat at its center. For being on the outskirts, this was quite a large gathering of faeries to come across.
“Why are there so many of you here?” Valdin asked as he looked around. There were soldier faeries amongst them, sure, but more than a handful of civilians as well. Upon closer inspection, he could even see tiny babies being carried in the arms of their mothers. The wild woods were no place for such younglings. There was no doubt in his mind; these were refugees. “Was Windsong destroyed as well?”
The faerie closed his eyes as his head turned down and to the right. He sighed deeply. “Windsong is lost, yes, but not to your hoard.”
“By what then?” the blond human asked as he came up behind Valdin. With the mystery solved, the elven army had moved closer, trying to get a better understanding of what was happening. “What else could have toppled your village in the treetop?”
The faerie shook his head. “You do not understand,” he said. “Windsong has not been destroyed like the fate that befell your village; the structures, high in the canopy, still stand as they have for years, but the forest is… is…”
“What is it?” Valdin asked.
The faerie’s face rose. His eyes were full of sorrow and confusion. “Dead,” he said. “The forest is dead.” A series of confused murmurs echoed through the ranks of the army as, high above, the tiny faeries wept.
“What do you mean dead?” the blond human asked.
The faerie sighed. “It came upon us like a creeping storm. We could not see the force passing over us, but every growing thing it enveloped withered and died right before our eyes. Fruits rotted instantly upon their branches. Flowers turned black and fell to the dust. The leaves became brittle and fell as though autumn had already passed. Nearly the entire territory is lost.”
“How can this be?” Valdin asked. “What could have possibly done such a thing?”
The faerie shook his head. “We do not know. All we know is that a dead world cannot sustain us, so we are moving on to try and outrun this terrible blight.”
“Outrun?” the blond human asked. “You mean to say it is moving?”
“It is. It creeps through the forest, spreading like a slow wildfire.”
“I must see this,” Valdin said. “I must see the blight with my own eyes.”
“What of the hoard?” an elf soldier shouted from behind them. “They make off with our food!” A collective outburst from the rest of the soldiers echoed through the trees.
“If your hoard stays on their current path, they will cross over into the blight,” the faerie said. “You will all see it for yourselves.”
Valdin looked off to the southwest where the path of the hoard was still visible. Windsong was southeast of their location. “You mean to say the blight reaches that far?”
“We have seen no end to it,” the faerie responded.
Valdin pushed his palms to his forehead as he gritted his teeth. If this faerie’s words were true, the situation was far more serious than anyone could have possibly comprehended. These faeries were on the move, their entire village migrating northward to escape this mysterious blight. If i
t continued to spread, the elves and humans of Moon-hollow would be forced to do the same.
“May I have your hand?” the faerie asked.
Valdin nodded and extended his right palm up in front of him.
The faerie landed upon his hand and allowed his wings to fall to his sides. “I feel we may be able to strike an accord,” he said. “Moon-hollow and Windsong have had their differences, but we have been allies in the past, even before the War. If our soldiers help you track down and slay this goblin hoard, will you return our kindness with a portion of your harvest for our journey?”
“You assume there will be anything left when we get there,” the blond human said. “If enough is not left to get us through the winter we’ll…”
“Come now, human,” the faerie responded. “The ration to sustain two or three of your families through the winter would feed all the faeries you see here for a year. By the description of your battle with the hoard in Moon-hollow, the food you’ve lost to them may be countered by your loss of mouths to feed.”
“How dare you!” the blond human shouted. “Have you no respect for our dead?!”
“Facts are facts,” the faerie snapped. “Even if the hoard has eaten some of your harvest or lost it in their stupidity, you will still likely walk away from this battle with a surplus. What we would require would be of no consequence to you, but our aid will be vital to retrieving it.”
“He’s right,” Valdin said. “We should take his offer.”
The blond human grumbled as he took a step back.
“I am Valdin,” he said to the small faerie in his hand.
The faerie hooked his thumbs together in front of his face as Valdin had done and bowed his head. “I am Cricket,” he said. “Commander of Her Majesty’s deadliest and most feared assassins: the Rose Thorns.”