A Clip From Chapter 19 Of JuNoWriMo 2012

Eyela and Stephan sat at a table, in the meeting hall of the castle. And they spoke. There had to be a way to save the girl. So she would not be abandoned. There had to be a way to prevent Scream from attacking the kingdom. There had to be something they could do.

That’s when Stephan suggested, “Talk to Scream.”

Eyela spoke into the air, “Scream! Scream! Can you hear me! I need to talk with you!” And Scream heard. He answered.

“Yes. Eyela. I hear you.”

“The people want to abandon Verdant Green.”

“I know. I can hear them.”

“I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.”

Scream was very calm. “I know what to do. I know how to take care of Verdant Green, and calm your people.”

Stephan stood, and like the King and soldier that he was, he demanded, “Tell us what you know.”

Scream explained. “Have Musica come outside to visit me. Then, have two soldiers escort Verdant Green out of the kingdom. Through the castle gates. Have the soldiers return to the castle. Leave Verdant Green outside. And then close the gates.”

Scream knew the King and Queen would be concerned. This was not abandoning Verdant Green in the wilderness somewhere. She would be in sight of the kingdom. She would be where the fairies could throw things at her. Or shoot arrows at her. Where they could call her names. And abuse her.

“Eyela. I promise. I will take care of her. We will take care of her.”

As promised, at the end of the two hours, Eyela met with the people once more. Standing on her balcony. Soaked to the bones. Not looking, and not feeling, like a Queen at all. “I will have two guards take Verdant Green outside the castle walls. There, Scream has said he will take care of her.”

Musica was only too happy to escape the mobs of people in the kingdom, to the calm outside the gates. Where there was only Scream. And underneath his wings, it was dry, and warm. And she played her flute. And laughed. And sang. Beautiful little tunes without any words at all.

Then, Eyela had two soldiers escort Verdant Green from the castle. Through the gates. Where they left her. The gates were locked behind her.

Verdant Green panicked. She was being thrown away! She was being punished! She was being told to leave! She screamed. She cried. She ran to the gates and pounded on them. The weather went insane. The wind howled. It screamed through the streets of the kingdom. The rain struck out at everything. Beating on houses, and stores. Beating on the castle. Pounding on everything, as if it were saying, “Let me in!”

It was Scream that stopped the storm. He walked across the gap from where he stayed, to the castle gates. Where he put a wing between the gates and Verdant Green. He was so gentle. He didn’t want to her the little girl. And he spoke with her.

“I told you that you were my friend. That I like you very much.”

“But my daddy’s dead because of you!”

“I know. Oh, how I know. And I would go back in time and change that if I could. I’m so sorry.” Scream looked very much concerned for Verdant Green. “We must get you away from the castle gates. The people are getting ready to shoot arrows at you. They may shoot arrows at all of us before this day is done.”

He gently picked up Verdant Green, and walked back to the place he stayed. Outside the castle walls. When Musica and Verdant Green were safe and warm beneath one of his wings, he looked up to the sky, and screamed.

It was a scream that split the sky. The loudest scream that anyone had ever heard. Then Scream was silent. And he waited. Protecting the little girls, as he’d said he would.

The day passed. And as the sun began to set, the people of the kingdom heard the screams of other dragons. Five of them soon arrived. In a rainbow of colors. All of them a different size. And Scream spoke to them. But every person in the kingdom heard the words he said. “Protect these children while I’m gone. They are blessed with wild magic. I won’t let the fairies hurt them. Keep them safe, no matter what, while I go to the Northern Forest. I’ll bring the White Witch here. She’ll know what to do.”

And with that, Scream used his wings to hurl air at the ground. And in just a few strokes of those wings, Scream rose into the sky. And was gone.

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A Clip From Chapter 13 Of JuNoWriMo 2012

Scream watched as Mystica landed on the mountain top. Just a few short steps from him. He said nothing. He simply looked at Musica, lying motionless, in his hands. Mystica approached. Her scepter held high. A white light shining in the crystal at it’s top. Lighting up the entire mountain top. She climbed into Scream’s hands. Kneeling next to Musica. She said nothing at all. It was not the time to talk. Both of them knew what she had to do. Both knew the had to heal Musica. And she had to do so quickly.

Mystica placed one hand on Musica’s left shoulder. Then, she closed her eyes. And a soft, white glow flowed down Mystica’s arm, encasing Musica completely. It was as if Musica was wrapped in daylight in the darkness of the night.

Scream watched as the bruises he had seen on his little fairy friend simply faded away. He watched as all the parts of her that were bent in ways that were just wrong straightened themselves out. He knew Musica’s bones were mending. He saw the broken pieces of Musica’s face re-arrange themselves. Returning to where they belonged. He saw her split lips, and torn cheeks become whole again.

And most importantly, he heard Musica’s breathing grow stronger. Steadier. And he listened carefully, hearing her heart beat grow in strength once more. Becoming the same heartbeat she’d had when he’d left her with the soldiers.

Fairies : Wild Magic (Part 3)

On that night, when the men had stopped to rest, Rose spoke to the Alpha Wolves that were accompanying them. She explained to them what she would like for them to do. The wolves had agreed, and off they’d gone. Howling all the way.

And it had not been long at all until the number of howls began to grow. And it kept on growing. The rain had kept pouring down. It had not let up since the previous night. The wind continued to howl through the trees. More wolves than ever howled in the night. There were no stars. There was no moon. It was nearly totally dark. And every time a man closed his eyes for just a little while, he woke up screaming from the nightmares that he’d had.

Musica had begun to play her flute once more. A song of someone being hunted. A frantic melody that simply would not let up. One of panic, and of fear. That the men in the camp could not help but hear. And many of the men paced to and frow. Some sharpened their axes. Some practiced with their swords. Some of them talked nervously among themselves.

Not one of them got any sleep at all.

One hour before the dawn, the wolves returned. Fifty or so of them. They silently approached the camp with all the men. And suddenly, all at one time, the wolves raced through the trees, and into the camp of the men. Howling. And growling. And snapping their teeth. They did not attack the men. Instead, they stole bows and arrows, and axes and swords. They didn’t get everything, but they did get away with nearly half of all the weapons that the men had brought with them.

As they’d raced through the camp, the men had panicked. Scattering in all directions. Some had been to terrified to run at all. They just stood there, and didn’t move. A look of complete shock on their faces. A look that said they were certain they were going to die.

The fairies were very excited. Their plan was working so well. Surely the men would give up, and leave Mystica alone. But once the sun came up, they learned that they were wrong. For the men regrouped. And they talked among themselves.

“It’s them! They’re doing this! There was the one that made the rain and wind. There was the one that could get the animals to do anything. there was the one that could put nightmares in your head. There was the one that played music that you could not escape. It’s them! The ones that we abandoned! The ones the witch saved!”

And with that, the men spread out through the trees, and brush of the forest. They were searching for the girls. If they could find those girls, they could put a stop to all this weather, all these things the animals were dong, all the nightmares they had when they tried to sleep. And they’d make sure that those girls could never bother them again. That’s what they’d do.

They’d hunt down those girls, and kill them. That would cure the problems they were having. And when they’d done that, they’d go after that witch.

The fairies were shocked. They were stunned. They stayed right where they were. Hidden in the forest, near the camp of the men. They did not know at all what they should do. So it was not long at all before the men found them. “There they are!” And the few bows and arrows that were left among the men were suddenly being drawn. And arrows were launched through the air.

Arrows that were incinerated in their flight. Bursting into pitch black flames. Other men had raised their axes, and their swords, and were racing toward the girls. The girls were terrified. Until Merlin himself stepped forward. He opened his wings, and spoke. His voice sounded like a sheet of metal being crumpled up, and torn apart. As he screamed, he swung his wings forward, toward the men.

A linear wind lashed through the forest. A wind that took down everything that was within its path. It uprooted trees, and hurled them through the air. Trees that didn’t get uprooted, but held fast in the ground, snapped into pieces, leaving shattered stumps along the ground. And those trees hurtled toward the men. The wind struck the men first. Some of them were lifted from the ground, and hurtled through the air. Being smashed by the wind into the forest, and the trees. Some of them were impaled on tree branches. Some of them bounced off the trees, their bodies being broken, and shattered.

Other men were pushed flat to the ground. where they grabbed at anything that they could. To keep from being blown away by that wind Merlin had made. And that was when the trees the wind had collected reached them. It was as if a wall of trees and brush collided with the men. More men were swept away by the wall of trees and brush. Collected up, and crushed, and tossed around. Being smashed and bashed between tree branches, and tree trunks.

It was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Not one man was left standing. Over half of them had died. And many more were likely to.

That was when Merln spoke again. This time in a voice that you could hear inside your head. “These are my children. I will protect them. They are in my care.”

And that quickly, Mystica was there.

She saw the destruction that had been wrought. And could not help but cry. It was such a waste of life. So many lives destroyed by blind hatred, and anger. She wished very much that Merlin had been left with another choice to make. A way to avoid the action he’d had to take. But she knew he’d had no real choice. He’d done what he had to. To protect the little fairies that he and Mystica loved so very much. He’d protected their family. And she knew she would have done the same thing if she’d been there. If she’d been in his place.

She called forth the white magic. Using it as quickly as she could to mend the broken bones and bodies of the men that were still alive. She did her best to keep as many of those men as she could, alive.

By the time the sun was fully up, and the storm was gone, and the wind had died, the men that were left were gathered up, in a little group. Surrounded by that pack of wolves. With Merlin standing next to Mystica. The witch had healed them. For some reason that they could not understand.

And it was then that Mystica spoke to them.

“Go back to your villages. Tell them what happened here today. Tell that not to come into my forest again. Tell them I will not let them hurt my family. Or the villages with which I am a friend. Tell them what happens to those that try.”

Then Mystica had turned, and picked Fauna up like the tiny little girl she was. She reached down and held Sunshine’s hand. Dream had climbed up on an Alpha wolf’s back. And Rose had spread her wings, and floated into the air, next to Mystica.

Mystica had turned once more to face the men. “Leave my forest. Now.”

Then she’d turned, and walked away. Leaving the men surrounded by the wolves.

The men had left the forest. Fleeing for their lives. They’d run for days. Sleeping only when they could not keep going, and collapsed from sheer exhaustion. They did as Mystica had told them to. They returned to the villages from whence they’d come. Telling everyone what had happened to them when they’d gone into the forest to hunt down and kill the White Witch.

And so it was that the legend of the White Witch grew. And it would be a long time indeed before anyone in the villages would enter the northern forest once again.

Fairies : Wild Magic (Part 2)

That morning had been awful for the men in the forest. The wind was howling through the trees. The rain was pouring down. Most of he men had not slept at all that night. Those few that had managed to get to sleep in the wind, and rain, woke up screaming from the nightmares that they had.

But on that next morning, they got up, and got organized, and continued their journey into the forest, toward the lake, where Mystica lived.

Mystica watched everything play out on the surface of the water of the lake. She knew the nightmares the men had were caused by Dream. She knew the wind and rain were caused by Sunshine. She was so amazed that her adopted little girls were doing what they could to help her. And she was so happy that Merlin and Whisper were there, with them, to take care of them. She knew, of course, that Merlin, on his own, could completely destroy the men. Leaving no one alive. She knew the power of his black magic. She knew of his speed, and grace. She knew that swords and arrows were harmless to him. She knew that the men could not hurt him in any way.

She knew Whisper had wild magic of his own. Although she didn’t know what the wild magic had given to him. She’s spoken with Merlin during the night. “I’m watching, you know. You take good care of our girls,” she’d said to him.

“I will. And I will let you know if he time arrives when you are needed.”

And now, she watched the images as they played out on the lake. Wondering what those little girls would do next.

As the men started to move that day, Musica began to play her flute. But she didn’t play a song. At least not one that you would recognize. Instead, she played a tune that blended in with the forest. This was her wild magic. The magic of the flute. The magic of music. Her tune was like the howling of the wind. And slowly it became the howling of the wolves. And the screeching of the eagles and the hawks. The men in the group became even more nervous. Moving more slowly. Always looking for wolves or other predators all around them. It was exhausting. The men could not rest. It was as if the forest itself was fighting them.

While Musica played her flute, Rose flew ahead of the men. As she went, she spoke with the trees, and all the vines. The trees flexed their branches. Closing off pathways between themselves. Making walls to block the path the men were on. The vines draped themselves between the trees. Making more walls. Further blocking the path the men were on. Making it more and more difficult for the men to continue their journey to the lake.

It was an exhausting journey for the men that day. At times it seemed to them that the forest itself was trying to stop them from reaching the White Witch, and doing what had to be done. They were on this journey to kill that witch. To protect themselves. To protect everyone. From those little girls. Each of those girls had hurt people in the villages. Some had even killed. Those girls were demons. They could not be trusted. You couldn’t let them around people. Those girls were supposed to be abandoned in the wilderness. Left to die. So that the villages could be safe from the. So that they would not be able to hurt anyone.

It was a sad thing. No one liked abandoning a child. And those girls had been loved very much. They’d brought happy times to families and friends. But then, the problems had began. That one girl that her village had called Rain. Any time she got angry, or sad, the wind blowed, and the rain came. The rain and wind had cost her village much. Destroying crops. People working in the fields had been injured while working in the wind and rain. Two people had died from their injuries. That’s why she’d been abandoned. To keep people safe.

There were similar stories for the others. For the one named Dream, where her entire village had nightmares every night. They couldn’t sleep. And then there was the day that Dream’s parents had never woke up. They’d gone to sleep, and had nightmares that night. And the nightmares had apparently scared them to death.

There was the one girl that the animals obeyed. And so did the people. Doing what she wanted. People stopped working, and played with her. All day long. The only way to get order back into the village had been to drug her food, so that she slept for hours, and while she was sleeping, haul her off, and abandon her. And to be sure that she couldn’t fly back to the village, they’d had to tie her up.

Then there was the musician. Her music could make you angry, or sad, or happy. She’d played a tune one day, out of curiosity, and people in her village had fought with each other. Half the village had injuries that day. And three of the children had died from them.

And of course, there was the little one. The one that protected the animals. You try killing the cow for meat around her. Swing the axe to kill the cow, and you experienced all it’s pain. Slay the wolf to protect your livestock, and end up writhing on the ground, wishing you could die.

Those girls were dangerous. They had to be abandoned. Left to die. For the safety of everyone.

So it went throughout the day. The forest itself seemed to be blocking their way. The men had to use axes to hack through the trees and vines so that they could keep heading toward the lake. And they were all cold, and soaked to the bone from the howling wind, and torrential rain. And they were all exhausted from having been unable to sleep the night before.

And so it was that the men finally settled in for another night in the forest. Making camp once more. It was so windy and wet that they couldn’t even get a fire to burn so that they could cook. They had to eat everything cold. Eating dried meat, nuts, and berries. But they had all the water they could ever drink. Just hold out your mug, and let the rain collect in it.

And that night, not only did the rain and wind grow even worse. Not only did they all have nightmares once again, so that they couldn’t sleep. That night, all the men were on edge, and nervous. For through the night they couldn’t help but hear the howling of the wolves.

And each man could not help but think that the forest itself was trying to protect that evil white witch.

Fairies : White Witch

Mystica had come to the foothills of the mountains as quickly as she could. Using white magic to power her flight. The white magic had shown her a tiny fairy girl in the foothills. Abandoned by her village. The child could have been no more than two years old. The magic had told Mystica that she was lost. And alone. And frightened. And very hurt. One of her wings was damaged. She’d fallen down a small cliff. Maybe ten feet high. And she’d landed badly. Damaging a wing. And breaking her left leg.The little fairy could not walk. She’d been unconscious for a while. But had woken up. And when she did wake up, she tried to move. And howled in pain. And cried. Poor child. Hurt, and in pain, and all alone in the foothills. Either she would slowly starve to death, because she couldn’t get food, or die of thirst, because she had now water to drink, or die by the actions of the predators of the foothills.

Merlin had been most concerned when Mystica had declared she was heading to the foothills. That there was a fairy child there that needed her help. He’d asked her to wait until dark, and the two of them would find the child, and bring her back safely. But she had refused. She could not let the child suffer any more than she already had.

Whisper had urged her to use great caution on her journey. He made this comment, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” as Mystica had prepared to leave. And as she’d taken to the sky, she heard Merlin. His voice thundering through the air, sounding like it always had. A solid sheet of metal being torn in half. But this time, it seemed to come from everywhere. As if the air itself were being torn in half.

And now, Mystica was approaching the place where the child was. To honor Whisper’s and Merlin’s requests, she called upon the white magic to protect her. And to protect the child as well. For the last little bit, she flew under her own power. So as not to frighten the child.

She found the child at the bottom of a steep hill. The poor girl had pulled herself along for a little distance. Trying to move. But now, she was lying on the ground. Exhausted. And in pain. The little one had no tears left to cry. Mystica was afraid she would not last much longer. Quickly, Mystica used her flying skills to land on the ground, next to the little girl.

“It’s OK, little one. I’ve found  you. I’m here now. I’ll help you. And I’ll take care of you.” She knelt beside the child. Barely two years old, and placed her hands on the child’s broken leg, calling forth the white magic. Using it to mend the broken bones. To heal the damaged muscles, and tissues. To put the child’s broken leg back together. As if it had never been broken. She kept going. Using the magic to heal the abrasions, cuts, and scraps on the little girl’s body. On her arms and legs.

When she was done, she hugged the little one so close. As a mother hugs her child. Mystica stood up, picking the child up with her. Letting the child rest her head on her shoulder. She reached to her waist belt, and pulled lose the flask of water that she carried. And she let the little girl have a drink. It was the first drink the child had had in several days. Mystica was very careful not to let her drink to much. Just a little bit at a time until she was better.

When she felt it was safe to move the child, she spread her wings.

TWHIP!

She heard the sound. She knew instantly what it was. The sound of a bow firing an arrow. It was followed by several more thwips. The white magic protection around both her and the child flashed brilliant white as arrows collided with it. And were stopped dead in their tracks. And burned instantly to ash.

And more arrows came. And even more. Followed by a group of men with swords. The surged toward Mystica. Their swords held high. Ready to strike. The white magic protected her, and the child. But still the men kept trying. They kept swinging their swords. They kept firing their arrows.

Mystica did not want to use the white magic any more than she had to. She did not want to say that single word, “burn”. She did not want to hurt these people in any way. She did not want to cause them to become enemies to her. “Stop!” she cried. “Please! I don’t want to hurt anyone!” And still they struck. “I just want to help the child!”

It was then that the air split with the voice of a scream. A scream that brought absolute terror to all the men. They froze in their tracks. A scream that struck to the very heart and soul of whoever heard it. A scream that spoke one single thought. Destruction.

Mystica knew it was the voice of Scream. She realized then that Merlin’s call, as she’d left the lake toward the child, was an order to Scream. And when Merlin, the black magic dragon, ruler of all the dragons, as he had been for over 10,000 years, ordered a dragon to act, that dragon acted. Without question. Without doubt. Without hesitation.

Following the scream, that shook the ground, and the trees, and the rocks, was heard the sound of great, powerful wings, pushing the air around. In an instant, Scream was there. One wing draped over Mystica and the little fairy child. The other folded away on his back. The talons of his front legs sweeping through the men. Many of them died instantly. Shredded by the talons. Large chunks of them simply gone.

Scream screamed a second time. Looking toward the rocks and boulders, and the underbrush where the arrows had come from. As he screamed, blue-orange flames arched from his mouth and nose. Easily breaching the distance between Mystica and the men with bows and arrows. Setting fire to everything they touched. Even the rocks and boulders burned.

Mystica knew no one was left alive, save for her, and the little fairy child.

Scream turned to her, raising his protective wing. And then he spoke quite softly. In the tongue of dragons, yes, but still. So softly. In the way of a fairy, or a human. “I have done as Merlin asked.” Then he lowered himself until he was on the ground, his neck extended. “You have expended much tonight. I will carry you and the young one back to the lake.”

Mystica had climbed up on Scream’s dragon neck. Right behind his head, with it’s dragon horns, and dragon ears. She still carried the little girl. The little one was very scared indeed. “It’s OK, young one. It is. I promised I would take care of you. And I will.”

Scream then took flight. It was on the journey back to the lake that Mystica spoke with the child. “I’m the fairy Mystica. I have a small family of fairies that I take care of. We live in tree houses by a pretty lake. Would you like to live with us?”

The little child nodded her head, yes. And then she’d almost cried. “You’re Mystica? They call you White Witch. They want to kill you. I don’t know why. They told me I was evil. And had to die. And you were evil too.”

Mystica shook her head, “No. Child. No. We are neither of us evil.”

“But you have dragons as your friends! How can you not be evil?”

“In time, you will learn that dragons are not evil. They are a strong, proud people. With very honorable ways. They do not think it is appropriate for villages to throw away little fairy girls that life gives the gift of wild magic to.”

“Wild magic?” The little girls eyes were the size of saucers. “Wild magic?”

“Yes, little one. You have wild magic. That’s why they wanted to kill you. Because they can’t help you learn to control the magic that is yours. Because you can hurt people with your magic until you learn to control it, and use it, like the gift it really is.”

Scream landed in the clearing of the lake. The sun was rising. And the colors of the world were coming back to life. The fairy Dream was standing by the edge of the lake, holding hands with Musica. Rose was flying over the lake, letting her toes trace little lines on its surface as she flew.

Dream spoke first, “You’re back! I had a dream last night. I saw you, and Scream, and watched as you rescued the little one.”

“Sunshine’s sleeping in. She was really tired last night, you know,” Musica declared. Then she asked, “What is her name?” as she walked up to Scream, and reached up with her little fairy hands, and tried her best to scratch behind his ears.

“What do they call you?” Mystica asked the little girl.

“I haven’t got a name.”

The little girl looked very sad. As if she were going to cry again. Musica and Dream looked so sad too. And Rose had landed, next to them. “They never even named you?”

“I haven’t got a name.”

Mystica looked into the eyes of the little girl. And then she hugged her neck.  “That will never do.” She smiled, as she hugged the little girl. “Is there anything you like? Something you are very fond of?”

The little girl nodded once again. “Yes! Yes! I like frogs!”

“Frogs?”

“Yes! Frogs!”

Mystica smiled, “Do you like other animals too?”

“Yes! I love to watch deers. And birdies! And rabbits!”

Mystica’s smile grew, and her eyes glowed with a happy light. “Then your name is Fauna, she who loves, and cares for the animals of the forest.”

“And I won’t call you White Witch, like everybody did. I’ll call you Mystica.”

And so it was that Fauna became the newest member of Mystica and Merlin’s fairy family. It would take time, but Mystica knew that in the weeks ahead, they would all learn what Fauna’s wild magic gift was.

Mystica also knew, as did Merlin, Scream, and Whisper, that it would not be long before the people of the villages turned against them, and their fairy family. She wished very much that such a thing would not happen. But she knew it would. That somehow, she’d become the White Witch to them. And they would reach a point where they would try to rid themselves of the White Witch of the Northern Forest.

With Merlin and Scream, and the wild magic of the little children, Mystica hoped very much that any of the villagers would survive.

NaNoWriMo 2011, Day 15.

Fairies : Mystica and Merlin

Chapter 15 : Life Was Looking Up

The captain looked out the window of the second floor of his home. He wondered how the troops he’d sent into the Northern Forest were doing. How many villages they’d destroyed. How long it would be before he ruled the Northern Forest.

He’d done well since that bitch, Eyela, had thrown him out of the kingdom. He now ruled the Grey Hills, and the mountains. He had an army now. And he was almost ready to take his army, and add the Southern Plains to the lands he ruled. He would rule the plains. He would rule the fairy kingdom. And when he did, he’d give that bitch what she deserved.

A long, slow, painful death.  That would take weeks. She’d pay very much indeed for what she’d done to him!

As for Stephan. He’d enjoy cutting Stephan’s innards out. One organ at a time. And showing them to that bastard. Yes, he would. Stephan would know pain. Stephan would pay for having returned. He should have stayed away. Where he belonged.

Then there was the matter of the witch. Mystica. He still could not believe that Eyela had made such a worthless thing a princess. Oh, yes. He’d kill her himself. Put his sword through her heart. Then cut her head of. And cut her body into pieces. All he’d leave of her was prepared food for wild animals to pick at, and eat. And he’d watch. And laugh as she died. His heart would sing happy songs that day. For he’d finally have his full revenge on her!

He looked at the sky, and the forest in the distance. You could see it from his home. His castle. Yeah. That was what it was. His very own castle. He’d wanted one. He’d had one built. Just for him, and his officers. So, some people had to die for him to get his castle. So what? Wasn’t that what people were for? Human resources. Expendable resources. Replaceable resources. None of them worth anything. But they were good for performing the work he wanted done. If a few of them were injured, or died. Well. That’s how life was supposed to be.

And he had his castle. And his army.

He sighed. And looked out through the window one more time. Then he returned to the bed in his room. Where some sweet young female was bound, and waiting for him. Right there. On his bed. Arms and legs tied to the bed posts, so she couldn’t fight back at all. He’d had a lot of fun playing with her the past few days. Using her like she was meant to be used. He figured in a day or two, he’d get bored with her. Then he’d just throw her away. Oh, he’d have fun cutting her heart out first. And watching her die. But then, he’d throw her away. Like he had so many others of her kind.

That’s what women were for, wasn’t it? To be used by him, and then thrown away? But that was for another day. Right now, he was ready to have more fun.

That night, someone knocked on his door. “Captain! It’s urgent!”

He shrugged. Playing would have to wait. He got dressed, and then answered the door. “Yes, what do you want?”

“It’s the squad you ordered into the Northern Forest, sir. They are returning.”

“They aren’t supposed to be returning yet! I’ll have them killed for this!”

“Sir! Many of them are already dead. And most of the ones that are returning are wounded. Some are barely alive. We’ve been trying to talk with them. To find out what happened. But we haven’t had any luck so far.” The man looked very nervous. Very scared. He knew it was never good to tell the captain bad news. The captain could go off in one of his rages, and cut off his head. There was no way to know.

“Take me to them,” was all the captain said.

The man lead the captain to a large open space, where a makeshift hospital had been set up. There were beds that men were lying on. Every single man that the captain saw that had been among the soldiers he’d ordered to the north was absolutely terrified. They kept mumbling things about dead people coming back to life. And some kind of fire that didn’t burn. They spoke of the agony the fire had left them in.

The captain soon realized that none of his officers had returned. “What happened to the officers?” he asked. One of the soldiers heard him.

“The officers are gone, sir,” he responded. Then a look of sheer horror crossed his face. “The fires that didn’t burn anything, roasted them alive. Every one of them. It was horrible sir. Horrible…” Then he closed his eyes, as if trying to shut out the world. As if closing his eyes would some how stop him from seeing those officers burn once again.

The captain turned to him, and asked, “What happened?”

The man swallowed. Then he tried his best to tell the captain the story of the day the dead had come to life. “We had killed everyone in 5 villages. Just like you ordered. And we were heading to the sixth. When we got there, we attacked. And killed everyone. Every one. No one was left. But once we’d killed everyone, and were getting ready to form up and leave, all the dead people… The dead people got back up… And then, they turned into these balls of white. White fire it was. That’s the only way I can describe it. And the white fire attacked us. We fought. We used our swords. And our cross bows. But it was no use. All our weapons did was pass right through the flames. We couldn’t fight them. Some of us grabbed water from the village well. And threw that at the flames. But that did no good at all.”

“Everyone the flames touched screamed in agony. I felt one of the flames catch my arm, and then all of me… Captain… I’ve never hurt so bad. I never knew I could. It was like… Like… I don’t know. Really. Maybe like my soul was on fire? I just know it hurt. And it hurt so bad that I passed out. When I woke up, I staggered to my feet. And I did like everyone else was doing. I ran.”

“We dropped everything, and we ran. When we finally stopped running, we gathered up. Formed a group. And tried to figure out what to do. All we could think of was to return here. And tell what had happened.” The man closed his eyes. “That’s when the wolves found us. I don’t know how many of us the wolves killed that day, before they left.” The captain could see the scars of the memories of the events that the soldier had survived written in his eyes. This man was no coward. Something real had struck at his soldiers. Something very real indeed.

Something magic.

“The witch! Mystica! The witch! She’s in the Northern Forest!” the captain bellowed. A look of blood lust in his eyes. “At last, I know where you are hidden!”

He put a hand on the soldiers shoulder. “You did well, coming here to tell us what you’d seen. What you’d learned.” Then the captain walked away. He told the people caring for the soldiers that returned to take care of them. If a single soldier died, he’d have a caregiver killed. One for one. The way it was supposed to be.

Then the captain returned to his castle. To his room. Where the plaything of a female waited for him. Tied and bound to his bed. But… He wasn’t interested in playing any more. Oh no. He wasn’t. For he’d finally learned what he wanted to know. He knew where the witch was. And on that night, that’s all that mattered to him. That’s all he cared about.

He now knew where to look for his most hated enemy. The daughter of the whore that had caused him to lose his career in the castle. The whore that had cost him his life. He’d had her killed. And then started working to find her daughter. And have her killed to. Even more importantly. Now that he knew the witch was in the Northern Forest, he’d go there with his men. And hunt her down himself. So he could kill her. So he could enjoy watching the life seep out of her. Watching her blood spill on the ground. So he could cut her up. Into little pieces. And then feed those pieces to the wolves.

Oh, yes. He would do that. He would enjoy that very much. He’d have his revenge on her at last.

But before that. Before that, there was another detail he had to attend to. Yes, another detail. Before he could hunt down that witch, he would hunt down that bitch, Eyela. And her lap dog Stephan.  He’d send his troops into the kingdom. To wreck havoc. And force her to act. Force her out into the open. And then, his troops would kill her.

Gods, but he prayed she died a painful death that lasted several days. The thought of her dying in great pain pleased him. He would be happy knowing that she’d died slowly. And in agony.

Yes. Things were looking up for him. And before too long, things would be set right. And he’d be ruling the kingdom. Oh, yes. He would. But more than that. He’d rule the Southern Plains, the Grey Hills, the mountains, and the Northern Forests. Who knew? Maybe he’d even invade the land of ice and snow? Why not? Why shouldn’t he rule the entire world?

But first, he’d take care of that bitch, Eyela. And her lap dog Stephan. He could just see that. His own hands, cutting Stephan’s organs out. One at a time. While Stephan was still alive. And the caregivers kept him alive for days.

Yes. Life was looking up.

NaNoWriMo 2011, Day 14

Fairies : Mystica And Merlin

Chapter 14 : Witch

As she stood in the middle of the village, Mystica wondered what there was that she could do to help the people that lived there stand against the soldiers that were coming. She knew that she didn’t know how to fight soldiers. That she’d never fought anything, or anyone, in her entire life. She didn’t know how. Neither did she know if the white magic she possessed would be of any use. She knew it could heal. She knew it could help her fly. She knew it could show her things. But she didn’t know at all if it would help her in the coming fight.

So she stood there, in the village, for a while. As she thought. Until she decided it would be best if everyone in the village was awake before the soldiers arrived. So she closed her eyes, and spoke a single word. “Wake.” A white light encased Mystica. And little balls of that light shot off. Each one going to a different house. One by one, house by house, the villagers woke up. Well before the dawn. They were all confused, and wanted to know what was going on.

They couldn’t help but see Mystica standing there. Encased in pure white light, in the darkness of the night. They also couldn’t help but see her wings. The wings of a fairy. The oldest of the adults approached her slowly. There were two of them. One woman, and one man. “Who are you?” they asked. “Was it you that woke us up?”

“I am the fairy, Mystica. I came to warn you, and to help you in any way I can.” She looked into the eyes of both of them. “Soldiers are coming here. Evil, mean soldiers. They will be here with the dawn.” Both of the adults looked at her. “There is a village, two days journey from here. The soldiers entered that village two days ago. And they killed everyone. Even the children, and the babies.” The villagers looked at her. “And they’ll be here soon.”

“Are you certain?” They were beginning to look worried. “Are they coming here?”

“Yes,” Mystica responded. Then she spoke again. “Show me the soldiers,” and a white ball of light formed, and hung in the air between Mystica and the village elders. In that white ball, everyone around could see the soldiers. Everyone could tell they were on the trail into the village, and it would not be long before they arrived. They could see the hard, cruel looks on the faces of the soldiers. They could see the cross bows. And the swords. That the soldiers carried.

Mystica spoke again, “Show what they have done.” The images in the white light changed. Replaying bits and pieces of the violent attack the soldiers had made against a defenseless village just two days before.

Everyone was silent. It was the woman that spoke first. “What are we to do? We have no way to defend ourselves. No weapons of our own. No way to protect ourselves from the soldiers. Surely they will kill us all.”

Mystica then shared her plan for helping the people of the village on that day. “Scatter. Head into the forest, as fast as you can. I’ll do the best I can here, to delay the soldiers, and keep them from tracking you. I can’t guarantee anything. I wish I could. But I’ll do the best I can.”

So the villagers fled their homes. Heading into the forest, just before the dawn. They headed out in all directions, except the one the soldiers were coming from. Mystica watched them as they disappeared among the trees.

And then she waited for the dawn.

As the sun rose, and the colors of the world began to come to life again, Mystica spoke to the white magic once again. “Let the village be filled with people.” The magic listened to her words, and little balls of white light appeared here and there, through the entire village. Then those balls of light took forms. Of men. And women. And their sons, and daughters. Even taking form as babies now and then.

Some of those images rested in beds. Some worked in kitchens, fixing breakfast for their families. Others were outside, starting their chores. All those images appeared to behave as if they were real villagers that day.

Mystica was very happy with the work she’d done. She prayed it would be enough. Then she spread her wings, and took flight. She hid above the trees to the village’s East. Just out of sight. And then she watched.

The first sign of the soldiers was a barrage of cross bow bolts striking the images the white magic had brought to life. The images that were struck appeared to bleed, and fall, and die. They even looked like the crossbow bolts were striking them. Bolts sticking out of body parts. “Pretty good,” Mystica thought, “for a bunch of white light.”

The soldiers continued their assault. Killing everything they saw. Men and their sons first. Then they grabbed the women, and their daughters. Brutalizing them, and killing them when they were done. They played their nasty games with the babies of the village once again. Smashing them against the walls and trees, and other things. Leaving mangled baby bodies on the ground.

As she watched from her hiding place in the tops of the trees, hidden from the view of the soldiers below her, Mystical felt her blood begin to burn with rage. As it had done before. And in her rage, she spoke a single word. “Burn.” It was barely a whisper. But all that she could think was that the soldiers, and the way they behaved didn’t belong in this world. That they should be burned from the face of the world. And forever gone.

The soldiers cried out in surprise, and shock, when the bodies lying on the ground returned to balls of white once more. And then those balls of white became balls of white flames. The soldiers screamed in fear, and the flames came after them. Encasing them, one by one, in a pure white flame.

Each soldier that the flames attacked screamed in agony, and fell to the ground, writhing in pain. None of them were burned. At least not visibly. But Mystic knew what those flames were doing. Those flames were of white magic. And they were burning the darkness from the hearts and souls of the soldiers on that day.

The soldiers started fleeing. Heading back the way they’d come. But the flames followed them. Hunting them down, one-by-one. Mystica watched, as some of the soldiers actually died. Others were left alive. But were left on the ground, unconscious, or in horrible pain. And still the white flames tracked the soldiers down. Until at last they came to the leaders of the soldiers.

The leaders were the most evil of the soldiers. This much Mystica knew. She could see the hatred, and the rage, and even the fear, that was inside of them. She could see how they believed that the people of the villages deserved to die. But even she was stunned by what the white magic fires did to them. For as the fires burned the darkness from their hearts, and souls, they actually burned. Their bodies igniting with real flames.

The leaders swung their swords. They struck back at the white magic flames. But it was no use. Nothing that they did hurt the flames in any way. And pretty soon, the fires consumed each of them. Roasting them alive. Leaving charred husks of fairies and men on the ground. The life in them having been burned clean away.

There had been no good in them at all. And when the white magic fires had burned the evil in their hearts and souls. It had burned everything they were. And there was nothing left of them, except for empty husks where life had once been.

Mystica flew to the center of the village. The fire in her blood was gone. Having burned itself out. Some of the soldiers that had survived, were waking up, or overcoming the pain they felt. And as they did, they got to their feet, and they fled. Scattering into the forest. Heading back in the direction from which they’d come.

They left their cross bows, and their swords, lying on the ground. They fled in terror, and panic. Without any thought at all.

Mystica examined the crossbows. And the swords. She recognized them. She had seem their kind before. They were the kind that had been used to murder her mother, Ivy. And so many others. In the kingdom on that dark day that had been months and months ago. She knew the soldiers had been more of the former captain’s men. And somehow, even though she didn’t know why they should be so far north, she knew also that her path would cross theirs once again.

With the battle done, and the soldiers gone, Mystic closed her eyes, and wished that the people of the village would know that it was safe for them to return to their homes.

The villagers, hiding in the forest, scattered everywhere, were now many hours from their homes. But they heard Mystica’s voice. It was a clear as if she’d been there, right with them. “It’s safe. You can come home.”

Mystica waited in the village, until every villager, ever man and woman, son and daughter, and baby too, had return to their homes. Once she knew that every one was safe, and well. And had not been harmed. She said farewell to them. And too to the sky one more. It took her 6 days of searching to find her way to the lake once more. 6 days and nights spent in the forest. On her own. Until she found her little tree house. Hidden in a tree, just beyond the clearing on the East side of the lake.

When she got home, Mystica stripped off everything, and then she dove into the lake. And there she swam, and washed. Until she felt clean once again. Until the dirt, and grime, and sweat, from her long flight, and the fight to save the villagers she’d defended from the soldiers, was all washed away from her. She floated, naked, on the lake. On her back. Looking up at the stars. And let the water of the lake calm her. Heal her. Until she could find her smile once more.

Then she washed her clothing, until the dirt that had collected in her skirt, and in her corset, and her undergarments, was all washed away. Then she left her clothing on the tree branch right outside the little door to her tree house.

And she went inside.

And at last, Mystica slept.

But as she slept, word began to spread from the village she had saved. That there was a defender of the people of the forest. Someone that would fight for them. Someone that would help them. And her name was Mystica. A fairy. And a witch.