by Lee Walsh
“Seems a bit far-fetched,” I replied. “Your species are useful for the whole of Mayr. I can't imagine them cutting your friends and family down for materials.”
“I'm not going to lie to you,” said the woodperson. “What's your name, wizard?”
“Percy Sunsword,” I declared. “And I'm on a quest to put an end to all this nonsense. Won't you join me, good sir?”
“I shall,” the woodperson replied. “You can call me Wyrdomilkin of Droppenklanheim.”
“Erm... can I just call you Woody?” I asked.
“Woody suits me, Percy wizard,” shrugged Woody before we set off on our mighty adventure of danger.
Woody and I became the best of friends during the next day or two. Being friends with a wooden person as both its ups and its downs. Great to have at least a friend, bad because the creature had a fear of fire and the nights were cold with the lack of a campfire. Nevertheless, we managed to get through our struggles while making our way ever closer to the city of Ark-Gaiu.
On the second night came the disaster. A disaster that was unexpected and quite the spectacle to watch. Hanging Gardens – the former floating island prison had lost its power altogether and began descending in a gracious and elegant manner. The night was silent and the sky was clear. Not a bird was singing.
“Oh no,” said Woody pointing to the falling island.
What was once Hanging Gardens fell down at a steady pace. In slow-motion, the previously floating island came down towards the ground. It got closer and closer.
CRASH.
The island pierced the land, throwing a wave of dirt and rock into the air at a high altitude akin to a volcanic eruption. The noise was incredible. The silent night was no longer silent.
Hanging Gardens had pierced the land of Mayr and thrown everything on the ground into the air – including the Orcish Mountains, and maybe a few orcs.
“Poor sods,” I said. “They don't have it easy do they?”
Woody looked at me, “don't you have a heart? Can't you see what's going on?”
“I can,” I replied, “Hanging Gardens has crushed the orcs. What's the big deal?”
“The big deal is that it's a sign. A sign of Mayr coming to an end. Sooner or later, we'll all end up in the human realm,” said Woody.
“Nothing wrong with that,” I replied. “Actually, it's quite nice at this time of the year.”
Woody responded with some common sense after I had spoken, “for you, maybe. But how do you think the magicless humans would react to a walking, talking tree?”
“I think they'd quite like you,” I replied.
Woody met my reply with nothing but a blank look on his wooden face. Woodfolk had holes for eyes and holes for a mouth. There was nothing expressive about them. Maybe from knowledge of what I had said to the poor fellow, or maybe from eternal wisdom that I had developed, I knew he was staring at me blankly.
I took shelter under the branches of Woody in order to avoid the falling debris from the now utterly destroyed Orcish Mountains where not a single orc could have survived. Hanging Gardens had well and truly destroyed everything that moved and that all that didn't when it plummeted to the ground. The ground shook when the ripples of the collision reached us.
Looking back, I saw Hanging Gardens still intact. One of its ends sticking high up into the air and the other end sticking well into the ground where the Orcish Mountains had been for millennia.
+
On the third morning together, the daylight came at the right time – nature didn't change that part, and we could see the mess Hanging Gardens had made of the Orcish Mountains. It seemed like something enormous had fallen straight out of the sky and landed on the mountains with the perfect aim and precision needed to cause the most chaotic scenes.
We looked on in amazement at the sight from a safe distance – the remnants of what was once a forest far away from the devastation.
“It's only going to get worse,” said a voice.
“Was that you?” I asked looking at my companion.
“I thought it was you,” replied Woody.
“It was me,” said the voice. “Behind you, you idiot.”
“Brownbeard! Am I glad to see you!” I blurted out. “Are you coming with us?”
“Coming with you? Where to?” Brownbeard asked.
“On a mighty quest to unburn wood and bring my family back,” replied Woody.
Brownbeard and I both turned to look at Woody. “Should you tell him or me?” asked Brownbeard.
“Not yet,” I answered. “Maybe later.”
“Of course I'll join you,” shouted Brownbeard as he walked towards me to wrap his arms around my waist. “I missed my favourite Wizard, I did.”
“Great,” I replied. “We're going to need as many people as possible.”
“Wait,” Brownbeard hesitated. “What exactly am I joining here?”
“A quest,” I answered. I looked over at Woody who had been distracted by the sight of Hanging Gardens once again. “We need to do something about all the mess in Mayr.”
Brownbeard let off a belly laugh as loud as he could, “what mess? This is wonderful.”
“Shush,” I whispered. “Don't let Woody hear you. What do you mean?”
“I'm a dwarf. Dwarves fight. We're at war,” he declared.
“At war with whom?” I asked. “With the orcs evidently dead now, there's no-one for you lot to wage war against.”
“Are you really that absent, my old friend?” asked Brownbeard. “You'll see in time. I have to join you now if not just for the entertainment value. I love a good quest, I do.”
Alas, there were three of us.
+
Each of us took turns during the dark, cold nights to keep a lookout. Brownbeard wanted to go first, second, and third before it was his turn again and Woody sat talking about his memories of his brothers and sisters and cousins and his uncle's ex-wife's cat's second-cousin, three times removed.
I concentrated on what was to come of our little band of not-quite warriors. As I enjoyed 'listening' to Woody's stories, a badger approached us. Woody smiled, “how cute are these little beings?” he rhetorically asked.
At first, I found myself to be a little scared of the badger from the thoughts of my soul being sucked out of me but then I remembered Wanda and her knowledge of the human realm. So, I gave the badger a stroke.
“They are,” I replied. “I cannot believe I, along with many other wizards and other creatures, went for so long being scared of these?”
Woody smiled at me, “my friend, nature might be ferocious at the worst of times but when you look into the deeper meaning of what is around you, you begin to realise that everything natural happens for a reason.”
His statement left me gobsmacked – how could a tree be so wise about nature? Then I remembered who I was talking to and the question burning in my brain was answered – he was nature.
Woody played with the badger while Brownbeard waited with his axe at the ready for anyone who might have approached to feel the sharpness of the blade that twinkled in the light from the moon. I shivered in the cold as Woody would still not allow any fires.
After some quiet time just relaxing under the stars, Brownbeard stood and yelled, “who goes there? Do you want to feel the wrath of a dwarven axe?”
“No thanks,” a voice said from the shadows. The voice had an unusual accent and one I was unfamiliar with. It sounded vaguely French. “I come in peace.”
“Why?” asked Brownbeard. “You're scared, aren't you?”
“Not scared,” the voice said.
“Then show yourself, man,” Brownbeard shouted back.
The figure moved a little into the light of the moonlight. His long white hair and pale skin glowed in the light and I stood up and looked on in sheer amazement, “you're an elf!” I shouted.
“Correct,” replied the elf. “I cannot come any closer.”
“Why not?” asked Brownbeard.
“I j
ust can't. May I ask you, do you have any tissues?” asked the elf.
I hesitated but certainly had tissues – like any good wizard with a hat, I also kept tissues in my robe especially when on a quest. It's impossible to know as to when they would come in handy. I took a few steps forward to hand the tissue to the elf.
“Wait!” the elf shouted and took a step away from me. “Can't you bring it?” he asked of Brownbeard.
“You're scared of a wizard?” I chuckled.
“Obviously not,” the elf replied. “I just don't want to go near you.”
His words angered me, I stepped closer. I don't know what I would have done had he not stepped back once again but I felt powerful and frightening at that moment in time.
“Please,” pleaded the elf. “Don't come any closer. I beg you.”
This was quite possibly the funniest moment anyone could have expected whilst on a dangerous quest. An elf feared a wizard such as me. Wizards didn't really have much magic – especially when compared to an elf, we rarely used magic and had forgotten most useful spells, but the elf seemed terrified to meet a wizard in a dark forest at night accompanied by a dwarf and a woodperson.
I handed Brownbeard the tissue who took it to the elf. The elf snatched the tissue from Brownbeard's hand and covered his face before deciding to come closer so we could see him.
He wore a long, black robe with no markings. A rope tied around his waist and his long, white hair drooped over his shoulders. His eyes looked tired and I'd imagine he had a long face too but he had a tissue covering most of it.
“Why are you covering your face?” I asked.
“It's embarrassing,” the elf replied.
“Your face is embarrassing?” I screamed in hysterics. “This is brilliant!”
“No,” replied the elf. “I'm allergic to you.”
My laugh stopped. Brownbeard looked at Woody who looked at me. I looked at the elf with a purposefully raised eyebrow. The elf looked back at me still with the tissue covering his face.
“What do you mean, you're 'allergic to me'?” I asked.
“Why do you think we had to imprison wizards for all this time? Elves are allergic to wizards,” claimed the elf.
“This is some kind of joke, isn't it?” my tone became serious. All the laws and evil oppression that had been bestowed upon wizards and witches were just to avoid a sneeze.
“It isn't a joke,” replied the elf. “When one wizard disguised as an elf came to Ark-Gaiu, people everywhere began sneezing uncontrollably. It played hell with our sinuses. Then one thing led to another and my elven friends and family evacuated. We had no reason to suspect the wizard there and didn't know what else it could have been. Many evacuated but many perished.”
“Perished? Like, died?” I asked. “Surely you can't die from a sneeze – no matter how bad it is.”
“No, they didn't die from sneezing. But sneezing does cause a violent reaction of the head and many elves died when they banged their heads on walls and other things. It was a terrible sight,” said the saddened pointed-eared elf.
The elf had a morbid tone in his voice and looked to the ground in sadness. The elf was evidently suffering from an extreme bout of depression and it was absolutely hilarious. I tried to hide my sniggering but the snort akin to that of a pig made it clear what I thought of the elf's claims. Brownbeard didn't hide his laughter as he burst out into a fit and rolled around on the floor trying to hold his belly in one hand and the axe in another. Despite my thoughts of trees lacking any sort of emotion, Woody was the only one to approach the elf and offer him comfort. The elf's eyes pierced both Brownbeard and me like a spear but we couldn't hold the laughter back.
Eventually, Brownbeard and I managed to calm ourselves down to a point of normality. We had a quest ahead of us and had to be serious and keep our composure in order to remain focused on the task in-hand. Then the elf sneezed.
+
With little sleep from the night before, we were over halfway to Ark-Gaiu where King Billy 'The Silly' Tart sat on the throne and, without a doubt, ate grapes served by attractive young ladies.
The four of us made our way through the forests of Mayr getting ever closer to the city fortress when a horde of centaurs approached us.
“Hold there!” shouted Brownbeard taking his lead at the front of our miniature party.
The centaurs did exactly as they were instructed to do.
“Are you the mighty 'Warriors of Fortune?'” the lead centaur asked in a commanding and intimidating voice.
“Who? No, we're...” I began.
“Yes, we are,” interrupted the elf. “We are Warriors of Fortune and we will strike you down with the force of a thousand dwarves.”
Brownbeard turned, “you underestimate dwarves.”
The centaurs paused for a moment and looked at one another, “are you sure?” their leader asked. “You don't look how we imagined orcs to look.”
“No, we're the Wizards on a Rampage,” I blurted out.
“Wizards?” the leader of the centaurs looked confused. “There's only one wizard among you.”
“Yes,” I replied and stepped in front of Brownbeard. “My friends, times have been hard and I have lost friends. Join us in our quest.”
“What quest?” the leader asked.
“Centaurs, our quest is that of danger and a journey into the unknown. We are to make our way to the great city of Ark-Gaiu, once my home, and retake the throne,” said the elf. “You already know my name.”
I turned to face the elf and realised that I didn't even know his name despite spending the night and morning with him, “come to think of it, what is your name?”
“My name is Alf,” said Alf the Elf. “The centaurs know me well.”
“Uncle Alf?” said the leader.
“Yes, my son. It is I,” said Alf.
The rest of us sat down and discussed the situation unfolding before our very eyes. Centaurs and an elf catching up on old times. Talking of how Alf had trained the centaurs and bred them. Alf the elf had made a name for himself in training the centaurs and they knew him as Uncle Alf.
Once they'd finished, Alf turned to Brownbeard, Woody, and me to introduce us. We each walked forward and shook hands with the leader of the centaurs.
“You destroyed my balloon,” I said as I got closer. I stopped for a second and wondered whether I should shake his hand or his hoof but settled on his hand.
“That was you?” the centaur asked. “Sorry about that. My kinsmen see colours that aren't natural to the forest and immediately want to shoot. There's no stopping these guys sometimes thanks to the training from Alf.”
Alf smiled and bowed, “and now you will join us?”
“Of course!” replied the centaur. “Wait, is that what I think it is?” he asked as he looked over my shoulder at the approaching being.
“They call me Woody,” said Woody. “Yes, I am a woodperson.”
“This is incredible,” the centaur was excited by Woody's presence. “No centaur has ever met a woodperson before. I'm the first one.”
“That you are, my friend,” replied Woody. “It's a shame it is in these dire circumstances.”
“Tell me about it,” the centaur sighed. “We're losing more and more trees to these factories and the wildlife has nowhere left to hide. The only ones we need to get rid of are the nocturnal beings.”
“I thought you were scared of them?” I asked.
“We aren't scared of them as such but because of their smell, we don't want them around. Plus the fleas give us a real itch,” he said. “Vile rodents.”
Things were beginning to make a little bit of sense to me at this point. Alf the Elf, Brownbeard the dwarf, Woody the woodperson, and me, the wizard. Plus a hundred or so centaurs. Our party was strong and we were destined to reach Ark-Gaiu and put an end to the madness that had taken over Mayr with its now smoggy atmosphere and distinctive odour which reminded me of the human realm. Then my mind wandered off to Wanda. Oh, how I m
issed the little witch.
+
18
SEEKING ANSWERS
The ferocious battle-ready army arrived at the gates of Ark-Gaiu in silence, in the dead of the day with the sun reflecting off the snow and blinding all those who dared look down. Percy, shielding his eyes from the brightness of the day, yelled up to the towers of Ark-Gaiu to attract any guards that may have been awaiting the arrival of the seemingly infamous troops of doom.
“That wasn't our name,” said Percy. “But I like it.”
+
NOBODY CAME TO the gates when I shouted at the top of my voice. “Is anyone there?” I shouted the same again but again my voice echoed around.
“Maybe try pressing that button,” suggested Brownbeard pointing to a silver button with the instruction 'press' written on it. I pressed the button to hear an electronic sound.
“Yeah,” a sleepy voice yawned over the newly-installed loudspeaker system. “Come in.”
There was an incredible buzzing sound like a million bees from the human realm had invaded our lands and were preparing their attack. We all covered our ears at the sound before it stopped. The voice spoke again, “well, don't just stand there. Come in.”
The buzzing came back as we each looked at one another. We had never expected it to be so easy to enter Ark-Gaiu and I hesitated in my thought process wondering if it could have been a trap. We walked across the already lowered bridge towards the gates. The loudspeaker system coughed and groaned before we got to the gates, “are you coming in or what?”
“Yes,” I shouted. “Open the gates.”
“When you hear the buzzer, they're open. It's really not rocket science,” said the loudspeaker.
The buzzing came back, I covered my ears again and walked to the gate, placed my hand on the knob and turned. The gates opened as if by magic from an unknown source. This was the kind of magic that I hadn't seen anywhere in Mayr before. This was the type of magic only the humans were capable of.
The centaurs waited outside the gates of Ark-Gaiu while the rest of us entered. The pavements donned a golden trim where the cracks had appeared. Buildings with classic architecture I remembered from the historical towns and cities in the human realm. Every building unique in its own right and every building built to last. A very different place from Ecklewood where the buildings are built to have something there and knocked down just as quickly to give extra resources to Mayr. They didn't need the bulldozers, though, most of the buildings in Ecklewood would have blown over on a particularly windy day.