by James Day
“Yes many. My faerie magic has no limits just as long as I remain alive.”
“Good, you are to go ahead of the group. Take a Fae Wolf and set a trap at the Snap. I want half of their company dead before they reach Skydark and Mayens Hall.”
“As you wish.” She climbed onto a Fae Wolf and began changing. She became more human dressed in leather leggings and a black vested top, arms and hands sprouted into human form as her eyes became brown. Her face became flushed with color as ruby lips and carefully lined eyebrows grew. No longer was she ugly, but a sight to behold and any man would want her. Her thin slim body showed off all the woman qualities that were most beautiful. Her crown of thorns remained as a head dress which complimented her as something to be feared. She darted off on the Fae Wolf toward the Snap.
The Dark Fae Warlock smiled.
He had released one of the deadlier creatures to do his bidding.
He had released the Dark Fae Wood Witch and she would use her powers to destroy them.
A plan was being formulated to lead them into a trap.
Then without warning, he disappeared into the woods as the sun rose.
SIX
After days of traveling the large company reached the Snap. The Snap was a gap between the mountains of the north and south. It was made of a valley of hills and mountains where the two Kingdoms of Dwarves and Gnomes traded. Great battles and borderline skirmishes had been fought in the Snap. Now, it was a trading route where the Dwarves and Gnomes traded. Even the Silver Gypsies, a Nomad People had settled down with great caravans. They traded with the gnome farmers and dwarven coin masters. Both races were now at peace since the siege of the Crimson Seekers which had nearly destroyed both Kingdoms six years ago.
The air was clean smelling and the noise of the traders rumbled throughout the mountain pass. On a dirt path, tents were set up where wares, food and furs were being sold. Dwarves, Gnome and Gypsy’s did trade with the farmers and Mountaineers. The company decided to stay on the outskirts while Prince Grandur and Noleann took Llyendrie and Shydrie to the tables. One seller sold cold pints of ale straight from the barrel. The four companions noticed small talk as the two Elves stride past the tables. The Dwarf Assassin Razor remained cloaked and hidden as did his counterpart Gnome Assassin Dirk. Both of them did not like crowds, but kept a distance watching the four stop and drink. The seller spoke about strange happenings and sightings of creatures that ran like lightning Mysterious deaths occurred and all with burn marks on their faces. Whole farms had been burned out now the villagers had hired men to patrol the area. There was talk that the Ogres were also coming down from the mountains and assaulting the townspeople.
Just as they finished their pints and put the mugs down, they heard screams and people started running for their lives. Men drew swords as others left the tables. A pack Ogres came rushing down to raid the bazaar and steal their food. The huge lumbering beasts moved more quickly and swung clubs. They went to Prince Grandur who noticed that the Sword of Shannon began glowing. Noleann turned unsheathing her broadsword as the Ogres attacked. The She-Elf Warrior and Spellmaker reacted instantly fighting off the attack. Shydrie rolled as two lumbering Ogres swung their clubs. She swung around one shoulder smashing the other in the face with her boots. She then stabbed the other Ogre in the shoulder. It turned and ripped out the knife and went after her. Prince Grandur and Noleann fought two more Ogres that held broadswords. They thrusted and parry, defending their moves. The Bounty Huntress spun around cutting the side of the creature as it howled in anger with a groan. Prince Grandur was knocked to the side and rolled to the ground as a club went down. The Sword of Shannon blocked the crushing blow as the club cracked. The Prince rolled back and jumped up thrusting it into the beast stomach. It went down. More Ogres appeared as Dwarf Assassin Razor and Gnome Assassin Dirk stepped in cutting them down one after the other. An Ogre slammed Llyendrie to the ground as it went to smash his head in. The Spellmaker burst forth with green fire that slammed into the body of the beast sending it backwards. The monster’s skin sizzled and hair singed in the fire.
A moment later, Mystic Dayven and his father, Dunnganon joined with blue fire that swept across as another five Ogres joined in the melee. The guardsman joined in with their arrows striking the necks of the monsters. The lumbering giants went down one after another.
Shydrie was grabbed and thrown into a cart as it came right up to her and picked her up by the neck. She struggled with her legs dangling as the others attempted to save her. Then the words of the spell echoed in the afternoon and light exploded from her palms burning the eyes of the Ogre, blinding him for one moment. It was then she plunged a knife and gutted him like a pig.
Bodies were strewn all over as the company decided not to stay around. They took off heading east and then south. The Mystic Dayven led the way on horseback as the others followed. They decided to ride on the side of the mountains’ edge with the valley below. It was safer and less out in the open. No one said a word while they rode all afternoon long. The trail went down into a large valley where the woods thickened, and streams flowed. No one had been killed, but it had been close. The company had escaped without injury and none of the townspeople were around for them to greet. It was better that way, to remain secretive toward their trip to Skydark. Things were becoming more dangerous and they knew that time was running out. Some of the group wondered if it was a planned raid or an actual attack on the them. The coincidence was large, and it did not sit well with Dayven. The Fire Imps had not been spotted, neither had the Dark Wolven Elves. It seemed that it was too easy. Then screams were heard behind them and alongside the back of the group where the Spellmakers and guardsman were galloping. The Fire Imps came fast and swift running right behind as Dark Fae Wolves were moving as the Dark Fae Wolven Elves that carried broadswords and charged with the wolves. They were closing in on the back as the guardsman attempted to cut them down. Two horses with the Spellmakers were taken down as a guardsman turned and jumped down while the company regrouped.
Green fire laced all around as the two Spellmakers attempted to ward off their attackers. A Fire Imp exploded into flames, but there were to many. Two of the other guardsman reacted releasing their arrows into their foes. One Spellmaker went down as fire exploded from three Fire Imps turning him to ash. The guardsman attempted to help the Spellmaker, but they were surrounded as the company rolled around and began charging. The She-Elf Warrior worked her bow and arrow as the Dwarf and Gnome Assassins made their way through cutting down some of them. But it was too late, the guardsman was torn to shreds by a group of Wolven Elves as the other Spellmaker died trying to save his life.
The Mystic Dayven rode with blue fire erupting from his fingertips as Prince Grandur swung the Sword of Shannon cutting another Fire Imp down. But they were coming by the dozens and time was running out. The company had lost three and decided it was best to get out of the valley and find higher ground where the fight would be to their advantage. The horses galloped fiercely their nostril blasting out air as the screamed while tons of Fire Imps came out and began to corral them into the mountainside. In a few moments they would be trapped. Then a path was found as Gnome Assassin Dirk and Dwarf Assassin Razor killed a few Fire Imps behind them. The group rode hard on the mountain pass and threw forests as the trees and shrubbery thickened. The path became smaller and all they could do is ride in a single line. Nothing blocked their path as they charged past boulders and over dead logs. They rode for a long time and four remaining Spellmakers were flanked by the two guardsman while the assassins and O’Dea rode in the back. A long time passed as the horses began to tire and needed rest. Then a giant clearing came into view and the forest opened up. It was an old encampment long abandoned, old log cabins and scattered packs and supplies were the only things left. From what the company could make of it, they were Gnomes that had abandoned their post for whatever reason. No bodies were around. An old campfire was cold and burned out. Not one ember remained as the compan
y tied their horses to trees and let them graze. Everyone had dismounted and formed a protective camp, guarding the only way in. None of the Fire Imps had followed. The Dark Fae Wolven Elves were nowhere to be seen. They had all vanished or even worse, retreated to find some other mountain pass to attack from. The road up ahead split into three paths that went into deep dark woods.
“We need to check the area out,” the Mystic Dayven said as they all nodded. “We need to find a way out and go back down to the valley and Skydark. Hopefully, we have lost the Fire Imps. O’Dea will stay with the Spellmakers. Spellmaker Hickory and Llyendrie decided they could defend themselves. The She-Elf Warrior decided to go out with two of the guardsman down the left path. The Mystic Dayven and Dunnganon decided to take the middle path. Noleann and Prince Grandur decided to take the path to the right. Dwarf Assassin Razor decided to back up the line with the Shydrie watching from afar just in case anything came from behind. Gnome Assassin Dirk decided to go with Noleann and Prince Grandur to watch their backs.
The Spellmakers and O’Dea lit a fire as the others went exploring for a few minutes. They scavenged the camp for any clues that might have happened, but nothing was there. It was if the encampment had totally vanished. Faerie Magic, O’Dea thought as he watched them disappear down the paths.
The two guardsman went down the path as the She-Elf Warrior walked behind them. Something was strange. She noticed footprints down the soft earth. They were fresh and maybe the Gnomes were alive and hunting for food. Dwarf Assassin Razor called to them to make sure that everything was okay and Shydrie just rolled her eyes and responded that everything was fine.
Dayven and Dunnganon went down a rocky path as the thickets grew out with heavy thorns. “This does not make sense,” Dayven said to his father. “It seems wrong to me. I think the Fire Imps and Dark Fae Wolven Elves forced us up onto this path. They all came from nowhere as if they had been waiting for us.”
“Your assumption is correct Dayven. They did force us up here, but I do not know why. They have no advantage up in the mountain pass. It is too thick to attack from the sides. There is only one way in and appears to be one way out. Only one of these roads the group is exploring leads out of here.”
“Maybe they took the lower pass and went up from the north. They can attack from both sides.”
“No, I think something else is happening here. Just stay on your guard.” The Boy-Mystic strode behind him.
Prince Grandur and Noleann traveled with Gnome Assassin Dirk directly behind them. The Sword of Shannon was sheathed in his belt and everything appeared to be fine except for one thing. There was no wildlife, no birds chirped, and it was to quiet. Noleann noticed it to as she saw the path open up to large pink mushrooms that someone could sit on. A huge black oak tree was in the middle of the patch. The Gnome held them back as he circled around looking at the white stems. It seemed unbelievable, like something out of a fairy tale book. Then a sweet smell of flowers overwhelmed their senses as they all inhaled the sweet odor. It was pleasant, no longer deadwood, but something alive and beautiful. Noleann yawned for a moment feeling a little sleepy as the Prince moved forward. She decided to wait with Gnome Assassin Dirk and explore around. Grass grew thick as red Silverthreads danced throughout the woods. Noleann realized something was wrong as she unsheathed her sword. Something evil was about, some kind of Faerie Magic. She called out to the Prince who responded that there was nothing. The path ended at the end of cleared opening. Then a red greenish light appeared on top of the large mushroom as the Prince stood there. Noleann and the Gnome watched with some apprehension. The light grew brighter as a form evolved inside the light. It was a large elderly Silverthread with wings. The woman wore a cap and dress as she kneeled over looking at the Prince of Shannon.
“I will only speak with you,” her words were enticing and magical like, drawing him in. He gave them a hand signal to wait where they were. “You seem so tired from your journey young Prince of Shannon. You and your friends are safe here in my woods. I will protect you.
“Who are you?” Prince Grandur asked.
“I am a friend of your quest. A creature of faerie. Nothing can get to you. I can lock the Fire Imps and Dark Fae Wolven Elves out. My magic is powerful.”
“What of the faerie war?”
“One is coming,” she answered in a grandmotherly like voice that was sweet and kind. “I can protect you. Watch.”
She raised her hands and the woods seemed to come alive as thick vines came out of the ground and began surrounding the company. The trail was cut off as the Gnome Assassin went to interfere, but Noleann held him back. The dead trees appeared to grow with fresh green branches, bushes blossomed with flowers and roses popped up with little thorns.
“Why haven’t your people helped us?” The Prince asked as he noticed that the Sword of Shannon was glowing blue.
“The clans are in communion. They are discussing the matter.”
“Will they help us?”
“In due time,” she said with a smooth voice.
Gnome Assassin Dirk noticed the foliage was getting thicker and thicker. The path back was completely cut off as young elms sprouted upward, and pines grew out of the ground. Noleann unsheathed her sword. Large orchards, and all kinds of flowers bloomed around. The place was so magnificent, but the Bounty Huntress had a bad feeling.
“Are you causing all of this growth,” the Prince said noticing the tickets becoming green as bushes had bloomed with red berries. A canopy of leaves grew over their heads hundreds of feet up as the greenery appeared to encase the group.
“Yes, it is my magic. It will protect you. Nothing will harm you. Stay a while and rest. I will protect you from the Dark Fae.”
All light seemed to be blocked out for a moment then the red Silverthreads lit up the patch, thousands of them were creating a soft glow which was mesmerizing.
“We need to go.” The Prince felt a sense of danger without showing any warning. He smiled gently staring up at her.
“The Fae Wood protects and is a friend to Humankind, but humans do not treat the timbers and all that live within it with respect. Just bask in the glorious wonders of my world,” she purred. “Just give me a few more minutes and I will send my Silverthreads to speak to the clan. They will help you out.”
The Mystic Dayven and Dunnganon walked down the dark path and noticed that the woods were getting thicker. A green fog was rolling in and it alarmed them for a moment. They slowly made their way forward as the trees grew leaves and bushes blossomed. Flowers peppered the walkway as thick green leaves grew out of the deadwood. The trees went from black to green. Then the Mystic looked back, and the path was being overgrown. New trees were coming from the ground and growing straight up into the air. Pines, oaks, and evergreens sprouted out and up. A canopy of vines grew overhead as the two Mystics watched curiously. The sight was beautiful, and the smells were sweet. They felt safe for a moment as butterflies went by and bees buzzed in the new flowers.
Calm cool air wafted through the air as a small stream formed with sparkling waters that rolled through the sides of the forest. Rabbits and birds began moving around the timberlands. They moved forward to a group of large trees and their trail ended. Vines twirled in and out all around the trees blossoming with gigantic flowers that were filled with yellows, bright oranges, and deep reds. The Mystic Dayven’s sixth sense warned him of something deadly and dangerous. He realized they had been tricked as he looked at his father. Dunnganon bowed acknowledging his fears. Faerie Magic was at work somewhere in the forest and the others were in danger.
“What do we do?” Dayven whispered.
“We wait until it reveals itself,” he responded.
The two guardsman and Shydrie ended up at a curve in the road that led to a path to the side of the mountain. It was there that they would have to travel and go to Skydark. The She-Elf Warrior looked around as she noticed that the forest was changing. All the deadwood was disappearing and being replaced by fresh gro
wn growth. The Dwarf Assassin Razor knew something was wrong and he voiced his opinion.
“This wood is haunted,” he explained. “We need to get back to the others and get out of here.
He turned as a tree broke through the dirt and sprouted straight up in front of him, vines twisted around as he released his broadsword and began cutting the freshly grown foliage. The two guardsman were not about stand around as the path behind them was closing up quickly. They and the She-Elf Warrior chopped away the vines to quickly make a path back and clear it. The smell of flowers struck them making them tired and sleepy.
“Quickly, the others are in danger,” she said as they cut their way back onto the path toward the remaining party. As quickly as they cut it down, it rose up again. This time the path behind them was blocked off. “Don’t let it cut us off. We’ll be trapped.”
They cut into the woods and vines chopping down saplings and trampling ferns. Thorn bushes grew alongside the path with thick thorns and huge florae. They struggled as they slashed away, making their way through.
The two Mystics saw the path blocked off. Green leaves formed by great boughs which twisted and interconnected. Vines grew in the path, then thick thorns came out blood red and deadly. They began meandering toward the Mystics.
“We must find the source and destroy it,” Dunnganon reacted as blue Mystic fire exploded into the wall of vines. They singed to ash as Dayven joined him, surrounding themselves in blue fire. All around the vines died and turned black, but it continued growing after the fire had incinerated them. The Boy-Mystic led the way as seedlings of trees exploded upward and the blue fire destroyed them. They were making headway as Dayven used his power to widen the sides of the path as the foliage attempted to enclose and destroy them. Dunnganon cleared the path in front as Dayven cleared the sides and the back. Overhead vines twisted down and dropped reaching for them like tendrils of mist. Blue fire burst upward setting them ablaze as they ran forward. Embers and deadwood came back as they held the Faerie magic back. They would reach O’Dea and the Spellmakers in a minute. Flowers opened up shooting darts at them as they ducked and moved. The poisonous plants were burned to a crisp. The path was widened as the magic continued.