None of them had said it, but the moment they were left behind, their chances of death increased dramatically. There was still many days of travelling to get out of the forest towards Loktath, and even longer to go towards Brün. The danger was clear regardless of the direction they chose, as that was the case, why not gamble big.
With what little rations they had they often had to venture into the forest to gather berries from the forest or water from streams. Their travelling was significantly slower than it had been previously. Luckily there was still fish to be found so that once in a while they could get something more sustaining.
. . . .
A mouse scurried out silently, its hunger too strong to make it stay underground. It ran along the forest floor carefully, alert, the morning dew cooling its brown fur. It found some wild berries growing low, it instantly began eating them, its hunger almost sated, but the sound of a twig breaking made it instantly return in a hurry towards its habitat. In its hurry back it rustled the plants making several droplets of dew drip down, the droplets reflected the leg of the creature which disturbed the mouse, it was visible for no more than a moment. It was a black hoof with stains of moss, its ankle covered in scales made of light brown bark, and then the creature was gone, as if it was never there.
It was but moments later that the lady with golden eyes appeared; she noticed the twig that had broken. Not even the creature could escape the mental influence that the Sjörn was giving off, it had gotten careless, and it was both good news and bad news to her.
. . . .
Four candle lanterns hung in each corner of the tent, giving off a warm light, casting the shadows of the people present onto the canvas of the tent as they moved their arms or shifted their positions. They sat on pillows on the ground, around a small low table. It was Elisa, Peter and the guard captain.
Peter had a worried facial expression “I just don’t feel right about leaving Edra and Bardo behind” he spoke politely while glancing at the guard captain for a moment, before looking at Elisa “even if we hadn’t known them, leaving anyone who isn’t at least level 10 in the middle of the Sjörn forest is almost certain death! I do not want their deaths on my conscious”
The guard captain kept silent, he was a middle aged man, clean shaven and he had a buzz-cut, his eyes light blue, it was obvious that he didn’t care much for Peter’s words, it was even more obvious that he wanted to scold him for speaking so casually to Elisa, but he kept quiet, it wasn’t the first discussion in the tent, and he had been told off by Elisa before, so he kept quiet.
She knit her brow together as she spoke up “I share your concern friend, I’m starting to feel that whatever is happening with the forest is affecting our minds and not just our moods” she sighed tiredly “however it has already been a week’s time since we left them” her expression and voice turned especially painful as she continued her sentence “they have either made it out of the Sjörn by now, or they have… had an accident” She knew she was to blame if something happened to them, had she not guaranteed them a safe journey? would they not have rather stayed in Loktath had it not been for her? The guilt had plagued her every day since they left them behind.
“It is obvious it wasn’t Bardo’s fault” Peter said exasperatedly “whatever relief the caravan got from leaving him behind, quickly turned back to the same old sour mood, that snake of a merchant Thomas!” he sneered the name in anger.
The guard captain frowned, and finally opened his mouth “regardless of the decision of leaving behind the two travelers, I do agree with Peter here, Thomas is not to be trusted, we should be careful around him, for whatever intentions he has, they are not clear” his voice spread through the tent as Elisa and Peter sat in contemplation of what the guard captain had said.
Meanwhile Thomas sat in his tent, with only a small candle flickering in front of him. He pulled out a worn piece of parchment, and then he cut a line on his skinny finger and began writing.
We are now more than halfway through the forest, something odd is going on, I will explain further when we arrive, the transport is unsuspected and I trust your delivery will be safe.
Your trusted subject
Thomas Siebling
After he had finished writing, he made a cross over the parchment, whereby he made a circle around the cross, as the circle finished the blood writing disappeared, leaving the parchment blank once more. Thomas’s twisted skinny face illuminated by the candle, a malevolent smile painted across his lips.
. . . .
Fear, what is fear? Is it when you are too scared to move? Or when you are on the precipice of losing everything, is it both? Or is it something else entirely?
She was standing completely still; it wasn’t that she couldn’t move, but that she was afraid of what might happen if she did. She was so close, no more than a few meters away from her, there lay the creature which she had sought, in all of its natural splendor, had it only been alone! Sitting behind it lazily on a moss covered rock was an old man, as much a creature of the forest as the one she had been hunting, if not more so. He was playing a pan flute, once upon a time he would’ve been known as a satyr, once upon a time that is. She surveyed how his skin had long since turned to wood, his horns to branches of the ash tree, his beard no more than leafs, his furry legs now covered in moss. The ones who made a deal with the Sjörn might gain power, but was it power that was worth it?
He had been playing since midday, the sun was now setting, cascading the trees and rocks around them in dark shadows and shades of orange. Eventually he stopped.
“Dryad, why do you seek this creature of the forest?” His voice archaic, yet it sounded like the water passing through a creek, like the rustling of branches he was unnatural and so was his voice.
The woman smiled slightly and kneeled, he spoke the language of the forest, and she responded in kind “Which lord of the forest might I be addressing?” she asked respectfully, her voice soft but sharp.
The lord began chuckling lightly “So there are still some young’uns who learn of the old ways, eh?” his question not a question “The mighty Sjörn bestowed upon me lordship of moss, and the title of Lord of Moss” he looked joyful as he spoke reverently about the Sjörn “now that the pleasantries are out of the way, answer my question child” his ancient gaze peering deeply into the dryad’s golden irises.
. . . .
The sound of flint scratching steel echoed out shortly, before the sound was drowned by the increasing winds from the east. The increase in wind quickly lit up the small bonfire which Bardo had set up. The sound of the branches catching fire gave a quick draft like sound followed by a soft crackling. Edra finished setting up the tent and sat down next to Bardo on a semi soft cover. They both just stared into the flame as it licked against a black iron pot which contained a simple fish stew. The last rays of light disappeared soon after leaving the bonfire as the only light-source, no stars covered the skies that night, nothing but clouds with a promise of rain were rumbling above.
“Do you think we’ll ever be able to wash off this smoky smell” Edra asked half joking half serious whilst he sniffed his arm, which had gotten a smoky after the repeated bonfires on the trip.
Bardo laughed loudly “It’s the sign of adventure friend, the smell of smoke and battle that is the mark of men!” He proclaimed confidently.
Edra looked at his friend with a smile, it was obvious that he was still affected by whatever afflicted the forest, but he had gotten a whole lot better since they left the prying judgmental gazes and whispers of the caravan, his smile quickly turned bitter when he thought of the journey ahead, and whether they could survive it or not. “Alright so according to you the guys working at the smokehouses are real men too? How about the maids who set the fire? How about…”
Bardo lifted up his hands in surrender interrupting Edra “Okay okay I get it, I admit defeat! Let’s just take some of that fish stew already, we’ve barely been eating since we separated from the caravan” he moved his big hands towards the lid of the pot, only to have his hand slapped with a wooden ladle.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Patience friend, it needs a while more” Edra said calmly, sniffing in the smell of stew.
“Care to share with an old lady travelers?” an old voice broke the two’s conversation from in front of them, where an old lady walked into view of the bonfire’s light.
Edra and bardo both jumped up grabbing for their spears when they heard the voice, but when they saw the lady they somewhat loosened their guard. They looked at one another, the confusion clear in each other’s reflection. Edra thought quickly “Please take a seat ma’am, you can use our cover, I’ll be right back I need to go take a whizz” He blinked with one eye at Bardo as he left.
Bardo picked up on it “Yeah me too, we’ll be right back, don’t eat the stew just yet, it needs to simmer” he spoke as he followed Edra.
After a short walk to a nearby bush Bardo whispered to Edra “suspicious! Very suspicious! The Sjörn is not some place your regular grandma would come to, and even if there are almost no creatures because of this oppressing feeling, it should only warrant having people stay away from here” the concern in his voice was obvious.
“I concur! Regardless of who she is, we need to be careful, but who knows, maybe she is just passing through, looks can be deceiving after all, we should ask about her story, either way we are almost certainly weaker than her” a sense of powerlessness was emanated from Edra’s voice as he finished speaking.
The old lady sipped the hot soup from a small wooden bowl; her expression didn’t betray whatever her thoughts about it were. Edra and Bardo sipped the soup too, silently looking at each other and at the elderly lady, they didn’t really know what to say about the entire ordeal, eventually Bardo spoke up “So what is an elderly lady, such as yourself doing out here in the Sjörn, my apologies, but you do not seem like a mage or warrior?” he was impolitely slurping the last soup from his bowl while speaking, Edra couldn’t help but smile at the man’s straightforwardness.
The elderly lady looked amused “I live here” she spoke gently, almost as if it was the most normal thing in the world, the flame reflected in her playful eyes.
“Ah, so you live here” Edra responded calmly, only to realise what that meant a second later “wait, you live here ma’am? Isn’t this forest a bit too dangerous for you?” his voice strained as he rushed the sentence.
The elderly lady laughed joyfully “why yes, it is dangerous, but you see birds in the trees, boars and mice on the ground, why can’t I live here too? If you know where to go” and she looked into Edra’s eyes, holding his gaze “and more importantly, where not to go! Then it is a different matter entirely my young friend” she blinked, her gaze releasing Edra’s, she looked back into the fire as she sipped some more soup.
“I’m very impressed lady, I’ve never heard of anyone living in the Sjörn, I guess myself and my friend here are a couple of bumpkins” Bardo laughed awkwardly, it was clear from his voice and facial expression that he was impressed though “speaking of, you wouldn’t know what ails the forest? I personally feel the oppression every day, only in the evening around the campfire do I feel relieve, and even then I still feel a chill in my heart” he spoke candidly about his fears.
The lady seemed to be in a good mood as she was smiling warmly “the very reason that I’m out and about is to investigate this, although I fear that with what little ability I do have I’ll be better off leaving for Brün until the forest returns to its normal self” although still smiling, her eyes and brow was serious “Enough about me, where do you hail from friends?” and so their conversation turned to other matters for the night.
The following morning the elderly lady asked if she could come along to Brün, she feared the forest, and would rather seek refuge until it settled. The group travelled together for five days, until one morning the elderly lady was gone, and so was any memory of her.
. . . .
The lord of moss was still sitting on his moss covered rock playing his pan flute, the creature lying in front of him comfortably. A light drizzle could be heard from the treetops, but little rain made its way down to the forest floor.
“Tell me child, what you learned of the people passing through the forest?” he had put his flute on the side of the rock as he asked the dryad, who was kneeling in front of him.
“They were mostly humans” she spoke with indifference, her head low “the forest affecting them, yet there was a clear difference” the last word spoken with a bit more emotion.
“Oho, very good child” the lord of moss clapped his hands jovially “yes, yes that is true, they are different, regardless of the forest, tell me more” his mood changing from joyful to serious constantly.
The dryad had met other lords before when she was with her master, then she had been young, whatever she remembered of them was little, what she did remember was what she was taught
- Always keep traditions with the lords of the Sjörn, they might not seem to care, but they may not hesitate to punish you if forget, and always remember that every lord is different, the rules of one, might not apply to another, be careful always!
She heaved a breath slowly before she continued “the first people I came across was a caravan coming from a place called Loktath heading towards the city of Brün, they were fearful, more so than the other group I met” she contemplated on the experience a bit more before she continued “I suspect that the more people are present, the more their emotions are disturbed by whatever ails the forest”
“Very good, very good my child, this is true, well deduced, you’ll be a great druid yet” the old man said amicably.
What didn’t the lord know? When he had set the trial for her she had complied, but it felt as if he had been watching her the entire time? She continued “The caravan denied me entrance, they were too fearful, they warned me to stay away and shooed me off” her voice no longer indifferent, but it could be heard that she was bothered.
“And the second group?” the old man asked impatiently.
“The other group was suspicious too, they were very weak, so they feared that by not letting me stay I would bring harm to them” her bothered expression began changing as she spoke “despite their fears they shared their meals and water with me, they showed trust in me, foolish as they were” despite of her words it was clear that she was not berating them, quite the contrary.
“You did well my child, you have passed the test, I shall take back my artifacts now, come lay them here” he pointed at the spot next to the pan flute on the rock.
The dryad walked up next to the creature, so close, her heart beat faster as she stood next to it and placed the artifacts next to the flute. There was a necklace that allowed her to create illusions, and strange pinecones which when applied with a target’s blood, and when burnt, would then make whoever smelled it forget about that person. The dryad had been surprised the most about the pinecones, she had never heard of such a strange artifact.
“Do you know why I wanted you to take this trial?”
The lord’s question stunned the dryad, there was a reason? Wasn’t it just on a whim? She answered honestly “no”
He scratched his wooden tummy as he responded “moss can only grow with water, and where there is no pollution, similarly with people, they cannot grow well where there is polluted, the caravan had pollution, it would not allow you to grow, so to speak, but the other group did” his ancient gaze held much wisdom as he looked at the dryad “you look confused child? What I’m saying is that you need water and a clean environment to grow, the people are water, their character is either polluted or not” it was as if the explaining was boring the lord as all of a sudden he shooed with his hand impatiently “I’m done now, take your reward and be gone, I have much to do here still” then he picked up his pan flute and began playing again.
The dryad couldn’t help but think about how eccentric the lord was, but his words still bore on her mind, she was used to doing everything by herself, ever since her master left. She was truly surprised at the insight of the lord as he seemed to know everything about her, but for now she had other concerns. She looked at the creature; she could finally absorb and contract its essence. She lifted her gnarly staff and began speaking in the druid’s language; power flared in her eyes, her staff hummed as it was charging up for every word she spoke. The strangest thing was that the creature simply lay there, pacified by the lord of moss. Then she put her hand on the creature’s head, it shook, a process that would normally be extremely painful, a process of killing. The live left the creature, its essence gone its once majestic and mystical body cracked to pieces. The dryad observed the broken husk, her golden eyes showed pity, but then they steeled she could feel the creature in her soul, she had succeeded where many had failed, a Forest Kirin was not a creature easily subdued, not to mention found. She summoned its essence, as a green, yellow and brown light shaped into the Forest Kirin; its scales of light brown bark, its mane and hair ephemerally green, its eyes shining yellow orbs, the dryad jumped onto the summon, she gave the flute playing lord of moss one last look before she rode away, her hunt over.
. . . .
Bardo and Edra walked out of the forest in relieve “I cannot believe we made it through without any attacks!” Bardo exclaimed loudly, he turned to look back at the forest looming over him “we should be no more than a couple of days away from Brün, let’s hurry there, I have no mind to stay here any longer” his shoulders shook involuntarily thinking about the oppressing forest, a feeling which still lingered despite having exited already. Edra nodded in agreement, and the two headed towards Brün briskly, the drizzle increasing in strength cleansing them of their fears.