Made of Magic and True Grit

by Landry-Daniel Lié

  MADE OF MAGIC

  AND TRUE GRIT

  A NOVEL

  by

  LANDRY-DANIEL LIE

  © 2020 Landry-Daniel Lie

  Dedicated to the one who inspired the hell out of me for so many years and still does.

  1952 – 2017

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: The Dare

  Chapter 2: The Spell Of Life

  Chapter 3: Fire Foxes

  Chapter 4: The Silver Soldier And The Skull Army

  Chapter 5: I’m Leaving

  Chapter 6: Grief

  Chapter 7: Chavo

  Chapter 8: Vince

  Chapter 9: Thieves In Disguise

  Chapter 10: Leaving Town

  Chapter 11: Familiar Face, Unfamiliar Place

  Chapter 12: The Village

  Chapter 13: The Spell Of Power

  Chapter 14: The Spirit

  Chapter 15: The Humming Fairy

  Chapter 16: The Training

  Chapter 17: Nightmare And Swords

  Chapter 18: he Spectres

  Chapter 19: The Breakdown

  Chapter 20: The Last Try

  Chapter 21: Heart To Heart

  Chapter 22: Fairy Dust

  Chapter 23: Combat Training

  Chapter 24: The Wizards

  Chapter 25: The Gates To Mendy

  Chapter 26: Mendy

  Chapter 27: Bonhill

  Chapter 28: I Will Help You

  Chapter 29: Golems

  Chapter 30: The Humming Fairies

  Chapter 31: The Death Dance

  Chapter 32: Elmers

  Chapter 33: The Skeleton

  Chapter 34: The Plan

  Chapter 35: The Weather Farm

  Chapter 36: Jahny

  Chapter 37: Lion

  Chapter 38: Alone, Again

  Chapter 39: The Judgement

  Chapter 40: The Forest Tribe

  Chapter 41: The Final Battle

  Chapter 42: A New Home

  Prologue

  The Silver Soldier

  R arely were the nights ever animated around these parts of Fiby. Only when the habitants celebrated festivals that traditionally lasted a whole week did the city burst with life day and night. Other than that, the nights here were untroubling and untroubled.

  But lately, something was different. Something ill-willed—that only moved when dusk came—silently slithered in and out of the moonlight, observing and learning about its potential prey. That lurking evil had its eyes on one particular place called Soubrey: home to a large community of fairies. A city made of many villages, well hidden within the vast Fibyan forest. Folk there did not suspect anything was wrong. Of course, from time to time they paused and stared in the direction of bushes that ruffled a bit too loudly in places where it was supposed to be quiet. But suspicions were always brushed off seconds later.

  Professor Jups loved and lived in Soubrey. He taught the young fairies of the neighbourhood and was proud to call himself a scholar, but even he was none the wiser about what was to come. The old fairy started on with his usual early evening stroll, where he walked rather than flew, and what an evening for a promenade! The moon was particularly bright, and it shone on the dark green leaves, showering the village with pale green hues. Jups waved goodnight left and right as he crossed paths with his neighbours and old friends. House doors slammed shut here and there. He could see children begging their parents to let them stay out a little longer while others, framed by windows, ate at the dinner table.

  “That’s cheating, you idiot!” Jups heard before he could see them. A sudden rush of wind almost undressed him as two flying figures zoomed past. Jups had to hold on to his hat to stop it from flying off after them. They had come too fast, but he could see them now: two young fairies called Pinly and Lion. They were racing each other all the way up to their house, grabbing and pulling one another to get ahead. Lion’s hand suddenly lit up with a sparking red ball.

  “Not again! Don’t you dare, Lion!” Pinly changed course, but Lion blew on his hand, and the light bolted after his brother. The young fairy circled around trees, zigzagged through the air, but there was no getting rid of the ball.

  “Use the wind!” Jups shouted, but Pinly didn’t seem to have heard him. His trajectory now looked as though it was going to collide with Jups’. Pinly’s hand turned red as he made a ball of his own. He swiftly turned around and threw it at the one chasing him.

  “No!” Jups shouted, but too late. An explosion of wind and sparks sent the Professor soaring back. He had a hand over his eyes but heard Pinly’s body land in a rough tumble.

  “Phew!” Pinly giggled.

  “You are going to kill us all one day!” Jups shouted as he dusted himself off.

  “Alright, no need to be so dramatic,” the young fairy replied as he stood up.

  “I beg your pardon!”

  “Oh Professor, I didn’t know it was you. I was just…”

  “What is the first rule that I taught you just this morning about dealing with small fires or artifices?” Professor Jups asked.

  Pinly’s face contorted with the effort of remembering. “Not… Not to counter it with fire? Maybe?”

  Jups shook his head. “You do not need to keep up with your brother’s shenanigans, Pinly, and isn’t it a bit late for games?”

  “Don’t tell me, tell him!” Pinly pointed up, but his brother was already gone. “Obviously…” Pinly whispered.

  Jups was always amazed at Pinly’s power, and the fact that the boy couldn’t see it himself was to say the least, baffling. Power constantly flowed out of Pinly like torrents, while it barely oozed out of other fairies. But Jups also thought that that great outpour of power was the reason Pinly struggled with his magic; it was just too much to control for such a young fairy. To avoid making him feel different from the others, Jups and the boy’s parents had decided to keep that from him. To be frank, they didn’t quite understand it themselves.

  “Look at you.” Jups pinched at Pinly’s torn shirt. “Surely there are better ways to play.”

  “I must admit…” Pinly straightened his shirt. “It can get a bit rough, but racing home is just what my brother and I do. I mean, you understand, you have your…” Pinly waved at Jups’ feet. “Your walking that you do and we have our racing.”

  “I fail to understand how my civilised walk compares to the savagery you call racing.”

  “Hm, well…”

  “I don’t need an answer, Pinly. Now fly on home. I trust you have practiced your takeoff?”

  “Of course I have! Look at me,” Pinly said proudly. The young fairy had to jump twice before managing a bizarre takeoff. “Maybe don’t judge me on this one!” the boy said as he soared upside down.

  Jups shook his head and muttered his disapproval as he continued his walk. Before long, Soubrey was deserted, everyone having flown home. Jups glanced at his precious watch. He had acquired it long ago; “a family heirloom,” he’d tell anyone proudly whenever asked. He would never be separated from the watch, and everyone knew that.

  As most lights were now out, Jups decided he had done enough walking for the night and he should probably call it in. It was quite a walk he had taken, in fact, and a shortcut was essential if he wanted to get enough sleep to deal with the children in the morning, so he took the route through the forest.

  Snap! Jups heard branches crack under someone—or something’s—feet.

  “Hello?” he called out. No response. He thought it might be one of those fiery-tailed foxes that seemed to have migrated to the region recently, marvellous creatures. He began whistling and crouching as he ventured further into the forest, then su
ddenly came to a halt. His mouth gaped as he straightened up.

  A figure stepped from the dark into the bright moonlight. Jups’ hand flew to his chest. The sheathed sword attached to the figure’s side, the shiny armour— it was a soldier.

  “You scared me, my good fellow,” Jups chuckled.

  The soldier remained quiet. It was only then that Jups realised he wasn’t standing in front of a wandering human. Jups cautiously moved his head forward as he took in the many strange features of the fellow standing opposite him: His hair was a shiny silver colour—at first Jups thought it was the reflection of the moonlight upon blond hair, but no, it was as silver as the armour he wore. His ears were as pointy as two blades, but most striking of all were his eyes: they glowed green like fireflies.

  “You must forgive me, my good sir, but you have the most striking features I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve lived for quite a while.” Jups laughed nervously now. The soldier’s stillness began to worry him. He observed Jups with a curious animosity that the professor did not understand.

  “Are you from around here?” Jups gave a tense smile to the soldier. “You’re obviously from far away; we don’t see folks like you around here. May I ask what you are from?” This attempt at conversation also proved unsuccessful. There was a long stretch of silence. He didn’t know what to do with himself anymore, and his worry grew with each moment of silence.

  “Well, it’s getting quite late, I won’t be bothering you any longer.” He smiled politely. “You have a good night now.”

  But before Jups could walk away, the silver soldier blocked his path. The speed at which he had moved from one place to another baffled Jups. Before he could say another word, the soldier had his hand at his throat. Jups felt the suffocating grip about his neck as the soldier raised him in the air before dropping him. Jups trembled on the ground. He did not understand what the soldier wanted. Why would he do this?

  As Jups crawled back on his elbows, the soldier crouched down to his level. “What do…” he began, but the soldier shushed him with one finger.

  “I’ll be the one asking the questions.” He grabbed Jups by the collar and began dragging him deeper into the forest. Jups was overwhelmed with a sense of panic. What was this all about? For once he didn’t know what to do. He screamed and cried, he held onto roots and branches, trying to escape his attacker’s hold, but nothing would do; he seemed doomed to endure whatever the green-eyed soldier intended for him.

  The pulling finally stopped. Jups sobbed in the dirt, his clothes now entirely blackened with mud. The soldier moved around him, his armour clanking with each step, each step sounding more terrible than the last. Jups sat up and turned around, in an attempt to plead one last time, but what he saw almost made him faint. It wasn’t the green-eyed fellows leaning on the nearby trees—or the fact that they were armed to the teeth—that disturbed him. It was the other creatures standing by them, so many it was impossible to count. His eyes darted in all directions—he had never seen anything like this.

  Before him were giants that appeared to be made out of tree trunks, vines and leaves. Other creatures, with bodies made of bones intertwined with thick roots and skulls for heads, stood tall and strong. They held swords, shields and were wearing helmets just like ordinary soldiers. He had no words. He didn’t want to plead with anymore or say anything, for that matter. This had to be a nightmare; no such horrors could be real. He covered his eyes and began crying,

  “Wake up!” he muttered to himself.

  Then the most terrifying sound he had ever heard began to spread. He glanced through his fingers; it was coming from the skull soldiers—their jaws opened and shut in quick intervals, making their rotten teeth clack together. Soon it grew so loud he had to cover his ears.

  The silver soldier waved a hand at his army, and the noise stopped. Jups heard his attacker chuckle.

  “You think you can take it all from us, huh? You think if you side with her, you will come out victorious?” The silver soldier softly; it was as though he was talking to someone out of sight. Jups wiped his tears and looked up at him, confused. The silver soldier glared down at him.

  “There must be some kind of mistake, I...” Jups didn’t have time to finish. The soldier backhanded him faster than his eyes could follow the movement. His cheek burned with pain.

  “Do not lie to me!” The soldier shouted. “I may not have seen her, but I have felt a powerful presence here. I will get the truth out of you somehow.” His nostrils flared with a rage that the professor knew he would not be able to soothe, even if he had any answers for the soldier, which he didn’t. Then it dawned on him: Pinly… The soldier was mistaken, the young fairy had to be the powerful presence the soldier felt. But no matter how scared Jups was, there was no way he could give them Pinly. Yes, the boy was powerful, but at the same time powerless, unable to hurt a fly.

  “I don’t know what you’re looking for?” Jups’ voice trembled as another green-eyed soldier approached. This one was much younger, but the resemblance was uncanny, like an identical twin born years later.

  “Father, what if she was hiding even from them? She could be here but also hiding from these fairies,” he said. Turning to Jups, he asked, “Are there creatures other than fairies living here? Witches, maybe?”

  “Half humans, but that is all,” he replied. The soldier seemed to ponder this. “Whatever you are looking for is not here, sir,” Jups said. The silver soldier’s green eyes burned in Jups’ direction, as if he had just insulted him.

  “How would you know?” the silver soldier asked. Jups looked down in fear. “Are they strong?”

  “Strong?” Jups repeated.

  “Yes, strong, can they fight?”

  “No…” Jups shook his head. “We do not need to do such things in Soubrey. It is a peaceful city.”

  The soldier smirked. Jups saw evil on that face such as he had never seen before. Not even the skulls behind looked as dangerous as that green-eyed savage.

  “I say we burn this place down to the ground,” the silver soldier’s son said. Jups’ heart began to beat as if it was going to explode with panic. Jups had to do something, fast. He felt the warmth of his aura travel through his body as he concentrated it in his hands. He acted quickly and waved. It sent a powerful gust of wind. Jups took advantage of the confusion to make a dash for it.

  He flew through the woods, but he wasn’t foolish; he knew he would not escape this. He knew this was the end for him, but if he could just alert someone, anyone, it would have been worth trying. Arrows whistled past. Some landed in the trees in frightening thuds, but others grazed him, leaving fiery trails of pain. Only then did it dawn on him: he would never see his folk again, his wife Doria—he loved her so much. Jups dipped his hand in his pocket, took out his precious watch, kissed it one last time—it meant so much to him—and then threw it as far as he could.

  Just as the watch vanished out of reach, he was surrounded once again by the glowing green eyes. They were the last thing he ever saw.

  Chapter 1

  The dare

  H ow am I going to get myself out of this? Pinly tried to think of every possible reason not to go through with the dare.

  “Are you going to jump already or just chicken out as you always do?” Lion mocked Pinly in a tone of impatience.

  He had been stalling a jump from the highest cliff in the forest. It dwarfed the biggest trees and just the thought of it made Pinly sick to his stomach.

  Their teacher had deserted the school for over a week, and to their parents’ strong disapproval, the young fairies had been left to enjoy their free time. For Pinly, though, it had been a week of nothing but hardship, all inflicted by his brother. Although he hated it, at that moment, Pinly wished school was back on, that Professor Jups would show his long, crooked nose and call them to class.

  “It’s too high. Can I do something else instead? There must be something, anything…” Pinly’s legs trembled beneath him.

  “No.
You have no excuse.” Lion crossed his arms and glared down at his brother. Pinly really had begun to run out of excuses—the other boys had jumped at least five times in front of him. Nevertheless, it was a free fall into a deep pond, and their reckless prowess did not reassure him. What if he hit a rock? Or the bottom of the pond? It was deep and he wasn’t the best swimmer. The scariest thoughts began to run through his mind.

  “Come on! You’re such a wuss!” Lion grunted, making the other boys chuckle.

  “Don’t rush me!” Pinly shouted. “I’ll do it when I’m ready.”

  Lion sat down. It was Pinly’s initiation. If he wanted to hang out with his brother and the rest of the gang, he would have to do this. No matter how annoying Lion could be, Pinly couldn’t help but look up to him. To Pinly, Lion was the bravest and most talented fairy— of his age, anyway.

  Pliny decided not to show any signs of weakness. He straightened his back and looked straight ahead to give the impression of bravery. The goal was to stop as close to the water as possible without touching it. Pinly could trigger his powers using what Professor Jups called “aura”—as all fairies did. It wasn’t something visible, but he could feel it. His aura was wrapped around him like a cloak of fire; even more than that, it was a part of him just like his arms and legs. He could still feel his aura whenever it separated from his body to materialise itself into whatever he had conjured. The aura only diminished when he used too much power or flew for too long. So what could go wrong?

  The problem was, Pinly wasn’t very good at using his powers, and he had barely learned how to fly properly before he accepted his brother's dare to jump. It was a stupid attempt at bonding with Lion.

  A freezing breeze swept by the boys. Pinly shook, and as he rubbed his arms, he tried to make it pass for coldness—but deep inside, he knew that he was shaking from fear more than anything else.

  “He’s never going to jump, let’s go!” It was Voly, one the young fairies, who spoke. His arms were crossed impatiently. Two other boys hovered behind him, Miki and Lofo. Pinly had never heard those two say much, but he had seen their yellow teeth on many occasions as they laughed at his expense.