ELO

by E. A. Cross

  Faelorn took a moment to respond, looking from Bree to Elo. He said, "well, I suppose that could apply to a human that stayed in the forest long enough. In theory, if they don't become bereaved, they would become more fae-like." Bree, still sketching and listening, interrupted. She tugged on Faelorn's whiskers excitedly, signing, "What is that?"

  Something moved in the river; at first, it looked like a massive fish, but its form appeared to be human on closer inspection. The creature spotting Faelorn, leaped onto the shore. It beached itself, and Bree, startled in amazement, clinging to Faelorn nervously. It was a creature that looked half man half fish. Its skin was greenish-blue and molted with gray. Its large black eyes had small white pupils, its hair was long and wavy like seaweed. Bree was breathless, as bizarre as the creature was, it was beautiful. Faelorn muttered quietly. "That is what humans call a mermaid, but it's really a type of fae. It is not related directly to humans; some lore says that they come from the same worlds and were created by the same God. Hence the strong resemblance." Its hand's where webbed, and its skin shone brightly in the sunlight. The creature began basking in the sun, ignoring Bree and Faelorn unperturbed by them. Bree signed, "she's not bothered by us." Faelorn lowered his head so that he was near Bree's face.

  "He is not bothered by us, no. They know of me and I of them. He must have been near enough to hear my request that he decided to visit you. You can approach him, but treat him with respect. Humans have hunted their kind for a millennium. His reaction to you will depend on if he sees you as a human or as a creature of this realm." Bree was shaking with excitement. She got up and immediately started sketching the merman. She sat a respectful distance, her nose in her book, taking notes as Faelorn recited facts about the merfae. He said, "they are not as intelligent as the elves, who rival and better man in most aspects. However, they are very cognitive and capable of learning. They simply have no need for written language, as they communicate through sonar and with telepathy. They live in pods deep beneath the ocean in depths where dragons and sea monster dwell. They are fond of coming to the surface, to eat, hunt fish, and soak up the sun." As she took notes, she did not notice that the merman had waddled up to her. He was inches from her when she looked up from her notes.

  Bree stared, and the creature stared just as fascinated with her as she was with him. He looked down at what she was doing. Bree shook, her heart in her throat. He seemed to recognize that she had sketched a picture of him; he traced it with a long curved fingertips before stretching his palm out to her. Bree's heart was racing, and she reached out gently and touched palms with him. Images flashed in her mind, the merfae was swimming in the forest. He wasn't, she realized he was in the river, but his mind could hear the trees. Strangely, his thoughts swam in the woods; he was aware of everything within his mind's sight. Bree sensed that he wanted to tell her something dire. A terrible creature could be seen stalking through the trees. It was a creature with a single red eye, and many other closed eyes on its body. It took the form of an attractive woman, but she had shadowy tentacles following her. Bree took a deep breath. The merfae was swimming, he could feel the change in the water. The trees were dying, and a creature stalked, threatening to break into the realm hovering its terrible tentacled body a miasma threatening to destroy everything. Bree felt tears sliding down her face.

  The merfae took her hand and showed her a scar running along his side. He told her in images of something horrible; he had been swimming, and then something had tried to rip him from the water—a creature of shadow. The monster possessed pale eyes; it clawed at him and attempted to suck the merfae's body of life. Bree's throat burned like fire, her nightmares of the icy eyed wolf surged in her mind. It was Faelorn that pushed the merfae from Bree. The merfae hissed and leaped in the water.

  Faelorn asked, "Are you okay? Did that fae hurt you?" Bree shook her head and wiped her eyes. "He told me that something is in the forest. I keep seeing it in my dreams." Bree got up and kneeled by the water, the merfae looked at her. Bree stretched out her hand, and the fae touched it gingerly. "Thank you for telling me…." She watched the fae swim away, Elo and Faelorn stood beside her anxious.

  "what was that about..?" She said. Bree wiped her eyes " It's what Joltrun talked about, the miasma, that fae said it was spreading, that he had been attacked." Faelorn eyes were troubled. "I will patrol the river more." Elo stared up at Faelorn. "Faelorn, it's going to be okay." She looked at Bree, "why did that fae tell you and not Faelorn?" Bree shrugged and signed, "I'm not sure."

  Faelorn’s eyes had changed to slits. "Elo, this is my forest. I should be able to keep it safe. The fae are my people; they need protection. More and more incidents are being reported over the last few weeks. Yet this thing, this miasma. It evades me everywhere I go. I see evidence, but I find nothing. No witches, not since the one that attacked us. Nothing, not yet."

  Elo nuzzled Faelorn. She said, "let's go home, we can take Bree to see more fae when the sun is highest." Faelorn said nothing; he stared in the direction the merfae had gone. He asked, "why didn't he talk to me, but to Bree…?"

  Elo shrugged with her deer body, which would have been comical to Bree if she wasn't sobered by what she had learned. Elo suggested, "Maybe you scare him, Bree's smaller and not as scary as you." Bree packed her supplies and turned back to Faelorn. Faelorn transformed into a mighty stag. "I'm ready to go..." she signed. He lowered his long neck, and she mounted. Elo followed, and the group retired to the spring for the afternoon.

  Chapter 15

  Days passed, and Bree practiced every day her signing. When she was not signing, she was copying notes that Joltrun gave to her on the fae. Tharin started coming to visit weekly. Mostly he would test her signing and correct her when she made mistakes. The elf was always dressed impeccably, clean, and armed with books and scrolls for his lesson. He did seem to change his clothing frequently, sometimes within the same day. Bree supposed it was cultural, but it felt rude to ask. Mostly Bree was too shy and intimidated by the elf to speak with him outside of lessons. His invitation to look at her curse had made her distrustful. Seeing him regularly interacting with Bakura and Joltrun made her reconsider his offer. He was cruel; when she signed, he would make rude comments. "You're too clumsy with your movements. It's those clumsy human hands," he groaned, "not like this, you sign like a brute, graceful delicate. Expressive with you face." He exaggerated his face, and both Bree and Elo started giggling madly. The elf insulted rolled up his scroll, "Fine, we'll end the lesson there. If you going to be so rude." Bree signed an apology, but the elf would have none of it. He said, "If you not going to take this seriously, then I will leave." The elf offended left with his belongings to the entrance of the cave. Bakura was watching, obviously amused by the elf's dramatic behavior. Bree sighed, and Elo said, "don't listen to him, he just rude coming and going as he pleases, even eating my food. He a harsh teacher to always be criticizing our humanity." Bree looked to the forest, Faelorn was late. He usually arrived to spend time with her and Elo by early morning. She decided to practice her archery as she did every afternoon before nightfall. Little Eli seeing her reach for her bow, excited ran after her and watched her practice shooting. They had gotten into a ritual where, wherever shooting, fishing or drawing. Eli would come and watch, join in, or simply ask her questions. He would usually turn into a little boy when she engaged him. She had even begun to teach him how to sign essential words.

  Eli giggling signed, "My turn." Bree gestured wordlessly, she gave him her bow, and he clumsily tried to shoot it. He missed, but he was getting better in technique. She demonstrated for him once more, with good posture and stance, she impaled her target (a dried-up sun fruit) clean through sending it flying from the stone pile. Eli ran to retrieve the arrow, and she slid the bow onto her shoulders.

  "That was good form, for a human," Tharin said behind her. Bree flustered, turning red. She had sworn she had seen him leave. Obviously, he had returned rather quickly. This time he was wearing his red robes. H
e presented her with a dagger. Bree stared, and the elf continued. "I have no use for this; Faelorn took it from a goblin. I believe you were there. I purified it, as it was filthy with goblin blood and feces. It is completely clean and goblin proof." Bree took the dagger, and Tharin handed her a sheath that he had draped over his shoulder. Now that the blade was clean, it was beautiful. It was as light as a feather but solid enough to have weight. The elf continued snippy, "I have no use for this kind of weapon; you can have it if you would like." Bree smiled and nodded, signing, "Thank you. I'm sure that it will be useful." The elf handed her the dagger and turned, heading for the woods turning back once to say. "I will be back next week, practice your lesson; I expect you to know everything we went over today." Bree nodded, and Elo stretched lazily. As soon as the elf was out of earshot, "Good riddance, what a snob that elf. Help me make lunch, will you? I wonder where Faelorn is?"

  Bree wordlessly began helping to prepare more stew. Elo started to gut a fish from the spring.

  Bree looked towards the woods. Over the past few weeks, she and Faelorn explored together. He brought her new fae, mostly fairy's, and she would sketch them and take notes on what he knew.

  She flipped over her new sketches. The book was half-filled with drawings of animal fae who were stunningly colored and intelligent. She wrote the colors down hoping to make paints out of herbs and maybe manage to color them someday. She reread her entry on different fairy's, their habits, what they looked like.

  A few days prior, Faelorn had introduced her to two new fairy's. The first was the flower fae. This fae species looked like flowers during the spring season but were plain and insect-like for the rest of the year. The other fae was small and dog-like; they walked on two legs and were extremely hairy. They lived underground and used sticks to dig with. Bree was proud of all her sketches and notes. She wished deep down that she could show her grandmother. The past couple of weeks had been relatively peaceful and uneventful. Quiet walks with Elo and Faelorn, lessons with Joltrun and Tharin. She even had Bakura sit in for some of her experiences, mostly observing but offering occasional wisdom on the fae. The day passed her by, and Faelorn still had not arrived. Worried, she slept fitfully, having the same nightmares as she usually did.

  It was very early the next morning that Bree woke startled. She dreamt of the icy eyed wolf stalking her in the forest. Shaking with adrenaline from her nightmare, she pushed the dream from her mind. Bree's stomach growled loudly. Hungry, she decided to walk to the field and look for a small game. Elo was still sleeping, and Bree did not want to wake her. Dressing and arming herself with a bow, she tucked her dagger into her belt. She glanced at the herd of sleeping deer. Bakura was gone, perhaps patrolling the field, sometimes the woman left for a few hours at a time. Undoubtedly it was for some important business. Bakura was mysterious, as was her magic.

  Most of the other deer were still sleeping—a few were up and grazing by the spring. Bree, armed with her bow, started looking for small game in the field. She spotted a rabbit just at the edge of the woods. Taking aim, Bree let her arrow fly, only to have it miss. She picked up the fallen arrow, watching the rabbit run into the woods. Tracking the critter, Bree spotted it stupidly sitting at the base of a tree. She aimed, confident that she would catch the beast. She missed again, frustrated, she stormed into the woods and picked up her arrow. Bree looked back at camp and the spring. She didn't want to fish today. She wasn't supposed to be in the woods at this hour, and she wasn't allowed to be unsupervised. Bree was particularly hungry. Just a few minutes, she thought. Maybe she could catch something small. After searching the forest's edge, it wasn't long until she spotted a squirrel smuggling nuts into a nook of a tree. She aimed and shot him through. The creature was instantly killed, Bree picked up his body. She inspected the carcass; there would be little substance. If Bree was careful and disinfected the meat well, her kill would go right into a stew. She wiped her bloody arrow against her boot and inserted it into her sling with all her other arrows. Taking the carcass, she turned around and slammed into someone.

  Bree looked up at a stunningly beautiful woman. Her hair was as black as her eyes, her skin as pale as the moonlight. She wore a silk gown, and her hair seemed to blow in an invisible wind. Bree swallowed nervously, the woman smiled at her sweetly. She could tell by the way that the woman was looking at her, something was a miss. Bree took a deep breath, straightened, and tried to quickly run past the woman. The woman smirked coldly and stepped in front of her. She put a hand on Bree's shoulder. She said, "I heard you were very interested in the fae." Bree nervously looked back at camp." With her damaged voice, she wasn't sure if she could call or scream for help. The woman pulled her close, holding her hand forcefully. "I can take you to some fae right now." Bree pulled away, and the woman clawed at Bree's pack. Bree froze, watching as the woman held her precious journal. Black tentacles appeared from under the woman's hair. She gave Bree a cold smile, and she flipped through the pages with her unnatural appendage.

  Bree tried to pry the woman's grip from her arm. The woman held her firmly, and she squeezed so tightly the Bree whimpered. The woman twisted Bree's arm. Bree was forced to her knees.

  "All these beautiful fairy's," the woman giggled, caressing the pages. She threw the book on the ground. "Come with me, child." Bree struggled and was dragged by the woman. The woman half-carried Bree who was gasping, trying to scream, trying to fight as the woman effortlessly held her. "Bree, Bree, Bree. Daughter of Actaeon descended of Bridgette, the saint. Slave from the east. Your far from home. Normal humans aren't allowed in this realm, did you know this? Not unless their witches." Bree was lost; she tried to kick and wretch herself free from the witches' grasp. The woman only seemed to get bigger and taller. She said, "I want to take you to my Lord."

  Bree was shaking with fear. This tall, slender woman had her trapped in a vice grip. "How long we have waited for you. Your a tricky one; not even my spell has managed to break you. You have such a beautiful voice, all those nights singing to the trees in your grandmother's little hut. How we listened..." The woman salivated, she said, "this was supposed to happen sooner, I've been waiting, yet you did not heed my call." The woman's body stretched her skin came loose. "Ah curse this body, this body of an underling. I can never fit into the vessels of my inferiors." The woman's pressed her body against hers, looking the terrified Bree in the eyes. She held her tight, Bree was crying in terror. Her left arm was pinned tightly, and her right barely had enough room to wiggle free. The woman's face stretched, becoming more pointed, her eyes became slits. She whispered, "you don't belong here, little poppet. It's time, your use is over..."

  She opened her mouth, which stretched long enough to swallow Bree's head. Bree silently screamed and freed her arm in panic. She grabbed the elven dagger and plunged it into the neck of the witch.

  The witch was caught off guard. She screamed violently. The dagger sliced into her left shoulder. Bree slashed into the witches' chest, neck, and even her face. The witch held her face screaming. Bree realized that witches' skin was smoldering with silver fire. The dagger began to burn the witch with its elfin purity. Bree stood shaking, unable to move, paralyzed with fear. The blade was the only thing between the witch and her. The dagger gleamed unnaturally in the moonlight, Bree held the short sword with both hands. The witch howled her wounds where steaming.

  She screamed, "you little bitch!" she gripped her neck and burning face. Bree could hardly breathe, panic set in. She stood stupidly, terrified, unable to flee. The witch was an awful ghoul, her true nature revealed by the dagger: her face was horrible. Her body was emaciated, black tentacles curled up her spine and neck. She screamed in a deep unnatural voice. She said, "I'll kill you!"

  Behind Bree, a lion roared. Faelorn crashed through the trees, antlers first. His massive body transformed, his vines swinging wrapping around the witch, tearing her flesh with thorns. The witch half embraced him, clawing him at the same time. She said, "oh Faelorn, my child, how long its been
." The witch hung limp in his grasp, grinning as she touched Faelorn's angry face. His fangs tore her flesh, and his vines threw her against a tree. The witched laughed as she called. "My children, come and feast on this creature." Giggles from all over the forest could be heard. Beautiful women slid from the shadows, the eyes colorless, there faces pale in the moonlight. They were half-naked covered in thin cowls.

  Faelorn was surrounded; his mouth was bleeding. He growled, towering over Bree protectively. The witch clutched her stump of an arm. Bree stared in terror at the severed arm that lay wiggling at her feet. The witch leaned against the tree, she turned to ashes. "You can't kill me, Faelorn, and my coven will tear you to pieces. I will take back the forest." The witch smiled as she turned to ash, "Mother says hello, Faelorn." The witches attacked, leaping in mass at Faelorn. He threw his entire body in front of Bree, shielding her. The women pressed into Faelorn, biting him with their mouths. He was quivering with rage and began thrashing, deadly vines tearing, ripping, and sending witches flying through the air. Despite how many fell to Faelorn, the witches would not stop attacking. They came chanting, holding daggers, giggling madly as they touched his body and tore at his mossy fur. Bree cowered, crawling into the roots of a tree. Faelorn screamed in pain as he was stabbed, clawed, and bitten. Bree hearing his cry snapped out of her fear. She stood far from Faelorn, the witches' eyes on him, not her. She pulled her bow and arrow up, taking aim. A voice on the wind howled and cried, "Feast on him, my children, make him weak. Our Lord will awaken and arise once more."

  Bree's throat was burning; she ignored it. Focus, she said, it's just like the time a wolf attacked her in her grandmothers forest. Imagine them as sun fruits and rabbits. Bree quickly sheathed her dagger and armed herself with her bow. Miraculously, she had not lost all of her arrows when the witch had dragged her. In fact, the witch had found her such a little threat that she hadn't disarmed her. Bree shivered and took a deep breath, steadying herself. She aimed and fired, hitting two witches. She hit the first in the face and the second in the throat. Her mind was clear; she drew her bow back, taking aim as the witches piled onto Faelorn. Bree climbed up a tree quickly, looking for a vantage point. One witch noticed her fallen sisters. She pulled herself from the chaos that was the fight. She sneered at Bree with a grin. She chased after Bree climbing up her tree. As the witch touched the tree, Bree noticed that the branches around her blackened and wilted. She realized with horror that the witch was spreading the miasma in the forest. The witch was under her, leaping attempting to pull her down. Bree kicked her enemy in the face. The witch slashed up at Bree, and Bree's bow went flying from her grasp. Bree climbed higher, arrows spilling from her pack. The witch giggled, "here, chickadee." Bree pulled her dagger from its sheath and slashed wildly as she hung from a thick branch. The witch laughed, her voice shifting pitches, "aren't you a sinner? Don't you remember a woman's place." The witch called playfully, her face split into two. One was that of Bree's father, and the other was that of her mother.