I know I’m not a good person. The sins I’ve committed as a fairy elder are unforgivable. But, I wasn’t always like this. I used to have girly dreams of finding the tangy-sweet edible clouds hidden in the sky, or the sparkle dancers of the solstice said to reside only on the water’s surface two times a year. Not all wisdom is without consequence. And, not all dreams come true, particularly those most fantastic.
It’s funny. I don’t dream of the edible clouds anymore, now that I have ways of wishing for them to exist. And yet, I never have. I wonder if a fairy who becomes wise loses that desire to make dreams come true. The wonder evaporates with innocence, and magic becomes a tool rather than a gift. Fairy elders don’t need or want young fairies to grow up before the time they are needed. A fairy that grows up no longer inherently trusts others.
She becomes aware of how the world really works.
And, she might learn the truth.
Anyways, since I’m probably the least likely to benefit from writing any of this down, I hope you appreciate that I’m not ALL bad. The fact that you’re reading this probably means I’m dead. And so, since I probably never will have the courage to atone for my sins in life, allow me to atone in death. As you continue reading, you’ll find at least some of my wisdom over the years, minus the painful learning of lessons leading to that wisdom. Spells, conspiracies, threats to the world, and the spirits. I’ve learned much over my three hundred or so years.
I came close to figuring out how the spirits were sealed away, but the Holy Order beared down on me, and I had to wish amnesia upon them just to get away. I do know, though, that not too long ago, a fairy escaped from the diamond castle.
Oh? Skeptical? Well, it’s real. I can’t prove it, but the castles in the sky did exist, and I believe she escaped from there, pregnant with a child. She was desperate to prevent her child from being subjected to torture in exchange for a wish. In fact, I believe I heard other fairies sacrificed their wishes for her to escape, costing their captor their wishes and two additional fairies. It was obviously a moment of oversight or hubris.
Likely what will do me in as well.
***
Lykha closes the fairy-sized diary as the last and most poignant line of the page she was just reading strikes at her heart. She wipes her eyes clear. Learning who Yanari was makes it even more difficult to accept what happened. She was undeniably selfish, but she also had a point. She wrote the journal for others as much as for herself. Lykha’s already been able to start learning and practicing several spells she had no idea a fairy could cast, such as the sonic repulsion spell she used to create the oasis, as well as several illusion spells. She documented techniques for practicing spells to become more proficient; her basic spells becoming offensive abilities rivaling even Holy Order Mages.
Yanari was a wellspring of knowledge.
And Lykha killed her.
Or rather, she put Yanari in the position to be killed.
The trunk winder is still tilted at a near vertical as Coco is driving up to a stable limb to make camp. The trunk they’re climbing is the only route they have up a massive mountain in the middle of the forest. It’s like the mountain grew around the tree, in a sense, and the tree allows them to ascend the steepest section without losing traction. The young fairy tucks the diary back into her gear bag and hovers out into the hall. It’s a long drop to the cargo-bay, but not a problem for her. She floats up towards the cockpit, finding everyone else other than Murtoa. Kessa, kicking her feet as she idly awaits the drive up the trunk, smiles at Lykha. “Morning, Lykha!”
For whatever reason, Kessa’s tone and genuine personality lifts Lykha’s spirit with ease. She smiles, joking in reply, “You don’t have to lie to me. I know it’s the afternoon.”
The young teen -the kinder version of Coco-, reveals a fun, wide grin. Coco says over her shoulder with her usual level of snark, “Aye! Ye sleepin’ ye whole life away more tocks -mmm- hours than awake.”
The young fairy takes a seat next to Maerin, who is writing down formulas in her notebook. She retorts, “In my defense, I was reading, this time.”
Maerin says a little coldly, “Be careful with what you read in that book, Lykha. Old fairies know more things about the world than mortals should know. And, that makes it easier for them to lie, as well.”
Lykha nods, “I’m well aware… Some of the things she’s written…” Lykha trails off as her thoughts grow restless.
“You’ll never see the village grandmother the same way again, will you?”
Lykha is silent for a moment.
Kessa suddenly speaks up, “Can I ask a question?”
Lykha, surprised, asks, “Of me? S-Sure. Always.”
Coco, however, takes the moment to retort, “Ye already di’, ye swish-headed fluff.”
“Be nice to your sister, Coco.” Maerin’s tone was serious, but obviously teasing in nature, and Gyrryth chuckles.
Kessa asks, “What’s a trunk ripper?”
The others share glances, and all eyes shift towards Gyrryth. He replies, “I have spent time in the forest, but I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with such a term. Just going off of this vehicle, I would assume some sort of vehicle.”
Kessa shakes her head. “I’ve heard people talking about being attacked by them.”
Coco grumbles, “I don’ne think a preemcess shoul’ be trekkin’ monsty slayin’ like us if she does’ne know that coul’ still be a runna.” The teen makes some small adjustments on the control panel, ensuring the trunk winder is running smoothly as she keeps her left hand on the controls.
Kessa crosses her arms, retorting in a low tone, “Well, either way, it’s hiding from us.”
The cockpit is awkwardly quiet for the moment, and Maerin scrambles to the edge of the seat she’s sitting on, shouting, “MURY! MURY WE NEED YOU!”
Coco grabs the radio microphone, calling to the back, “Love! Natterjaw sayin’ we bein’ spied by a trunk rippa!” She releases the button, and the warrior’s voice comes back.
“Does she know what a trunk ripper is?”
Coco looks at Kessa, who shakes her head. “Just what the adventurers coming through called it.”
Maerin sighs, “You know its name somehow?”
Kessa whines, “I can’t explain how it all works! I wished that I knew all of the secrets of the world! I thought it would tell me who I was and who my parents were and where…” She trails off, hugging herself. “I just know stuff now. I know how it sounds. For a long time, NO ONE listened to me. You’re going to ask me where it is or what it looks like, and I can’t say. I just know it’s secretly watching us.”
Murtoa says from below as he climbs up the ceiling ladder into the cockpit, “Sounds like it might be a Green Nishkatan. Gyrryth, be ready to operate the winch cannons. Any chance you’ve made any explosives, Maerin?”
She smiles, though an air of uneasiness is behind it. “O’ course. But, you know the price.”
He nods. “In your bunk or locker?”
As Maerin answers her locker, Lykha asks uneasily, “What is a Nishkatan?”
Gyrryth replies to the young fairy, “The Auburns are more common in Yaelach. Ape-like beasts. They have a penchant for throwing whatever they can get hold of.”
Murtoa tightens his gauntlets, standing on the rear wall if the trunk winder was level. He says, “Greens have large antlers that they knock branches and bark clear with. They’re known for being territorial against vehicles.” He opens one of the secured cabinets at his feet, removing a harness. “Coco, do NOT stop. We need to get to level ground, or it’s going to knock us free, winches or not. It probably will anyways.”
Maerin asks, “Can’t we use the down locks?”
Murtoa shakes his head as he puts the harness on over his armor. “No. It’ll hit us harder.”
Lykha asks, “Mury… What are you planning on doing?”
“What else? Kill the nishkatan before it kills us.”
She frowns at him, crossing her arms. “And, where do you intend to do that from?”
“The trunk winder is unarmed, Lykha. A nishkatan can rip this vehicle apart.”
“Sh-Should we go back down, then?”
“Not if it already knows we’re here.” Murtoa climbs carefully to the roof hatch, saying, “Whatever happens, get to level ground.”
Maerin growls, “Murmur… I’ll give ya a discount if you come back unhurt.”
Kessa stands up, adding sweetly, “I’ll give you a Princess’s kiss.” Lykha and Coco glare at her, but Coco suddenly snaps her gaze back to the front, shouting, “OY! LOVE!”
“I see it. Get to the limb, Coco.” Mury opens the hatch quickly, and Lykha asks, “Wait! What about Maerin’s bombs!?”
“No time.”
“I’ll get them! DON’T close the hatch!” She darts down into the belly of the trunk winder, finding Maerin’s locker. No one locks their lockers, as the five -now six- of them have an immense amount of trust among each other. Lykha scoops as many of the bombs as she can carry into her arms, lifting into flight towards the cockpit. She nearly drops them when a powerful roar rattles her bones. She swallows the brief moment of fear that grips her, racing up into the cockpit. Maerin calls out from the hatch, “Hurry, Lykha!”
The young fairy threads her way through the hatch and past Maerin, who is watching Murtoa as he hangs from a much smaller winch attached near the hatch. He has Zaermaa drawn, and Lykha glances up the tree. The creature is swinging by its massive arms, nimbly navigating around the trunk that does a lot less to dwarf the monster than it does the comparatively tiny vehicle. Though the nightenmael was larger than the nishkatan, the creature is much larger than the silveryourds. As Gyrryth briefly described, the creature appears to be almost humanoid in shape, but with a bestial ferocity and posture. Its arms and legs are thick with powerful muscles, and a massive blanket of fur hangs shaggily from its body, with several species of moss or other plant life clinging within and providing a natural camouflage in a forest with similar symbiotic plants growing on the trees. Great antlers, chipped and scarred from heavy impacts and coming to sharp points, spread like great wings of a demon from the monster’s head, and it roars again, batting them against the trunk of the tree. It doesn’t rush them yet, and Lykha asks, “A-Are you sure it’s not just… being territorial? S-Some birds…”
“That’s a challenging stance. It was too late the moment it saw us. Lykha, deposit the bombs in my bag, please. Quickly.” The young fairy darts down to his bag, shoving her torso in under the flap to make room for her to shove the bombs in. She can feel Mury shift as her legs hang out of his bag. She carefully ensures the bombs are together, but she’s suddenly ripped out of the bag, cast into the air by a strong, gloved grip. Lykha finds the human warrior swinging by his harness towards the nishkatan, and the apparently surprising move is the only thing that halted the monster from ramming into the vehicle. The beast roars as it swings backwards away from him. The nishkatan shakes menacingly, enraged by the vehicle and that Mury surprised it.
Mury calls out, “LYKHA! LIGHT!”
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
Instincts kick in. She’s Lykha the fairy, small compared to people; insignificant compared to the monsters her companions face. But, fortunately, she’s done the same handful of things for almost every monster they’ve fought together.
She darts close, apparently unseen by the nishkatan. “Bright shine, we’ll be fine! Give me light, if only a mite!”
The nishkatan becomes alert, clearly hearing Lykha’s voice as she shouts her spell. She notices its eyes shift inwards, focusing in on the tiny speck just as her spell activates. A bright flash of light illuminates the forest, and the nishkatan wails in startled rage and agony, losing its grip on the tree as it flails away from Lykha. It drops below them, and Lykha’s heart skips a happy beat for a moment as she watches anxiously to see if the nishkatan is about to be slain so easily.
However, her hope evaporates just as quickly when the monster instinctively slams its hand into the trunk again, catching itself as it frantically tries to nurse its eyes with its free hands. The trunk winder continues to climb steadily.
“Maerin! Get inside and tell them to brace! Lykha, bag!”
The young fairy quickly obeys, darting to Mury’s side. She doesn’t climb into his bag, but she stands on it and holds his strap, using his cape as a partial shield for whatever is coming.
It’s not hard to guess or figure out. The nishkatan rips a chunk of bark from the massive tree, and Murtoa pivots, hugging his body close to the vehicle. The trunk winder lurches hard as the bark slams into the rear, deflecting off. However, Lykha can hear the shrapnel splinters spraying everywhere, including battering Murtoa and his cape. She asks loudly, “Are you alright?”
“Think so.”
Suddenly, the trunk winder shakes as Lykha’s stomach floats briefly. Murtoa says calmly, “Bark’s shifting. Keep moving, Coco…”
“Should I tell her?”
“No. Stay in cover. Gyrryth’s on the-” The knight is cut off when the vehicle slips again, and the forward left cannon fires almost immediately after. The harpoon sails high into the air with the winch trailing from it, aimed for the limb they were trying to reach. The harpoon spears into the limb, and the cable goes taut quickly. The rear left cannon fires next, anchoring into the trunk only slightly below the trunk winder, causing the vehicle to be suspended as the bark falls towards the nishkatan. The colossus smashes the falling bark out of the way, clawing its way up the trunk of the tree shortly after.
Mury, and consequently Lykha, are now hanging below the angled trunk winder. This takes away Murtoa’s footing, but he doesn’t flail or kick. He keeps his gaze on the nishkatan as the winches activate, pulling the trunk winder up. He sighs, and Lykha looks up at his helmet. She’s tightly hugging his gear-bag’s anchor loops. He states, almost under his breath, “We’re lucky the harpoon anchored.” He pulls one of Maerin’s bombs out of his gear bag, as well as Coco’s igniter. “If you need to fly, Lykha, fly.”
“I’m not leaving you to die.”
“Good. Be there to heal me if I’m still alive.” He lights and throws the bomb as hard as he can. The nishkatan heaves itself up the trunk, but the explosive detonates around 20 meters ahead of it, causing it to flinch and avoid the blast.
It’s then, though, that Lykha truly appreciates how big the monster is and once more appreciates the scope of what Murtoa has always done. He lights a second bomb’s fuse, tossing it as hard as he can once more. The nishkatan roars in anger after the second explosion, swinging itself out of sight around the gigantic mountain of a tree.
As a fairy, Lykha doesn’t have an innate fear of heights for herself. Few fairies simply fall from the sky, so it doesn’t really register. But, she’s very, VERY conscious of the lack of wings her very human companion was cursed with.
Regardless, he digs calmly in his bag as he looks both in the direction the nishkatan went and the other side of the trunk. Lykha asks, “Should I try to flash it again?”
“No. Conserve your magic for the moment. Nishkatan’s aren’t easy to fool more than once. It will target you if it sees you next time. I have a plan if we can get the trunk winder to level ground. But, you likely won’t like it.”
“I’ll cooperate. I know well enough to trust you.” She smiles at her companion. “But, expect to be scolded later.”
He nods. “How long do you think you can make it weightless?”
Lykha recoils. “The colossus!?”
He nods.
The young fairy murmurs, “Nieolsynnys? A-Are you there?”
I’m here. Always, for you, Lykha. With your power, mere seconds. If you want us to help…
“No. I’ll do it. Seconds, Mury. Will that be enough?”
“Sure. But, you need to trust me, and you need to do it at exactly the time I shove it away from the trunk.”
Lykha closes her eyes and clenches her fist near her heart. “I knew you were going to say something like that.”
“The colossus doesn’t fear us. It will fight to the death.”
“I get that. And, so, we have to kill it with as little fighting as possible. Do you HAVE to do it so crazy-like?”
“When you have a better plan, tell me quickly.”
“I’m sorry… I don’t…”
“Next time, then.” Mury pivots as the booming and scraping of the nishkatan’s hands precedes its eager growl. It is above them on the branch, studying the vehicle and the cables it is using to ascend across vast open air as the human knight dangles near-helplessly by a harness and cable.
The nishkatan roars more temperately this time, bouncing on its nuckles as its massive antlers send drafts through the leaves nearby.
“Mind doing me a favor?” The human knight offers Lykha a bomb and the igniter, and she sighs. “Leave it to me. Don’t do anything stupid where I can’t catch you.”
He scoffs. “Stay low. The explosive won’t hurt the winder. Go.”
She nods, darting into the air. She can close a lot of ground quickly, and she gets why Mury said the second part. The nishkatan can also clear a lot of ground, and it barrels up the limb towards the anchor. Lykha’s instincts are to race into its path, but she stops herself. She has a lot of relative ground to cover compared to the nishkatan, and she has to make an offensive strike.
Go low, Lykha. She angles downwards, watching the gigantic being as it blots out what little sun is making it to the young fairy from the tree tops. It grips the limb with its massive arms, swinging backwards on the opposite side of the limb, allowing it to swoop down and hang so that it can grab the trunk winder. It reaches for the vehicle suspended by cables, and Lykha darts towards the vehicle, readying to light the bomb. It’s awkward for her relatively small size, but she is able to align the fuse and the igniter. She needs to conserve her magic. Just as the beast’s massive hand is wrapping around the trunk winder, Lykha uses her whole body to throw the bomb, hitting its finger. It manages to rip the rear cable free of the tree with a quick jerk of the vehicle, and Murtoa swings like a small toy on a string. The blast is comparatively small, but again, it’s enough to make the nishkatan recoil again. Lykha cheers, “Yeah!” The air swirls as the giant roars, swinging acrobatically away from the trunk winder briefly.
The fairy finds Murtoa pulling himself onto the hull of the vehicle, climbing down towards the rear cannons. The trunk winder swings like a pendulum, but he is undeterred from whatever his current goal is. Lykha flies to catch up to him, reaching him just as the vehicle reaches its pinnacle and Murtoa is reaching the winch cannon. Even dangling from a winch cable and harness hundreds of feet above the ground on a vehicle also hanging and swinging freely, the human knight braces himself so that he can reload the cannon. His hands move deftly, pulling a lever that ejects the broken winch reel, which he catches and hooks to his belt, in spite of its size. He then reaches into the breach, pulling the next harpoon up from the loading chamber, which is loaded from inside. He feeds the harpoon into the barrel as the monster roars once more, and the fairy calls out, “Mury! It’s coming back again!”
“I know.” He slams the breach closed, shouting, “Tell them to aim for the nishkatan!”
Lykha hesitates for only a second. Her heart is racing, but Murtoa isn’t one to shout nonsense. She NEEDS to trust him. She races for the hatch, shouting as the nishkatan howls in the distance, “MURY SAYS SHOOT THE MONSTER WITH THE WINCH!”
Gyrryth hesitates another second, which could cost them. But, he whirls in his seat, aiming the rear winch as the ape-like beast swings into view of the side windows. Coco shouts, “Neva thought I’d flick me life ‘fore me eyes s’rounded by trees!”
Gyrryth calls out, ignoring Coco’s remark, “Firing!” He then says quickly, “Fiery One, do not reel this shot in!”
“Aye! Ye snagged ye a-WAAAAH!” The vehicle lurches and the whole group cries out as Gyrryth grips the edges of his panel, attempting to keep stable. Lykha, airborne as she is, has to fly to avoid being slammed by the wall of the cockpit, and she darts up to the window. The harpoon of the winch hit the nishkatan in the shoulder, and once more it is driven back as it roars in rage and pain. Its recoil pulled the trunk winder, but just as suddenly the trunk winder swings away.
Lykha calls out, “I think the cable broke!”
Maerin cries out, “Good! Coco! Get us up this stupid tree!” She clings desperately to her seat.
The teenage techromancer retorts, “Aye! What’cha think I’m turnin’ here!? Blastie’s munch bowl!?”
Lykha only barely notices the other teenager when she speaks softly. “He’s going to die…”
Lykha doesn’t pay it much mind at first. Kessa hasn’t said as much of her crazy-sounding nonsense since joining the group, but she also hasn’t been ‘cured’ of the curse that apparently causes it. Or, rather, the effects of the wish she once made.
The realization hits her, though, and she snaps her gaze to Kessa. The teen appears to be praying, but Lykha asks sharply, “What do you mean!?”
The cockpit falls quiet, and Kessa looks at her. She replies with a subdued tone, “He tricked you into leaving him alone. The cable didn’t break.”
Lykha’s eyes go wide with horror. She zips out of the hatch in an instant.
Coco tries to call after her, “OI! Lykha!”
The fairy is already scanning the trunk winder in denial as the nishkatan rips the harpoon from its shoulder.
Lykha finds the personnel winch and follows its cable, finding the hook used to clip a harness to the cable.
She gasps, darting to the edge of the trunk winder as it swings back towards the nishkatan. She scans the vast drop towards the ground far below for a falling armored human.
Her heart races as she searches all around. “MURY!?”
A moment passes where no response comes, and the nishkatan nurses its shoulder momentarily.
And, then it happens. A small blast from the direction of the colossal beast, and it howls in pain, nearly falling from the giant tree’s limb. Lykha looks to see the seemingly-tiny puff of smoke, and it takes a second to scan the monster.
But, as she probably should have come to suspect, Murtoa is on the monster’s head, clinging to its antler as it thrashes from the blast.
Lykha sighs with relief, but also, a vow to scold the human warrior.
The real question is; how did he get over there?
***
Moments before that, Murtoa orders Lykha, “Tell them to aim for the nishkatan!”
The young fairy hesitates for a second. It’s probably taking a moment to register, more than anything. Fortunately, she darts away without a word.
Of course, Murtoa grew up with military orders and confirming understanding of those orders, so that small detail irks his soldier instincts. Fortunately, he’s been a civilian colossus slayer for even longer, so he’s more content that she reacted quickly and without question.
He mostly just needed her to go away briefly. All of the winch cannons can be operated locally. It’s not his best idea, but he’s not sure how else to engage the nishkatan with the trunk winder exposed as it is. If he can buy them enough time to escape or fight it on more solid ground, it’s an acceptable trade in his book. Though, he’ll be giving his all to triumph as usual.
The nishkatan bears down on them once more, hand by hand from the giant limb they’re trying to ascend. The cannon fires, hitting square in the monster’s shoulder, and Murtoa feels relief. Trust goes a long way. Having additional hands performing tasks makes his job easier. True, it means the monster’s attention is more difficult to funnel towards where he needs it at times, but that is a small price to pay, so long as he can win without casualties.
Murtoa takes a breath.
I’ve done worse than this. First step’s the hardest.
As the trunk winder reaches an angle that he can stand, thanks to the Nishkatan recoiling, he unclips his harness from the personnel winch and kicks the emergency cable cutter’s impact plate. The cable shears cleanly, and he dives towards the end of the cable as the trunk winder drops. He nearly misses the cable as it snaps towards the nishkatan, and as soon as he does grip it, his glove nearly slips free. He grips as tightly as he can, bracing against the pain in his shoulder as his stomach turns.
He’s sailing over a drop that could arguably be called the sky, were there not another mile of trees above him. Falling isn’t an option, as there likely won’t be a rescue in time, as there was with the Premier’s daughter and the maigon.
Fortunately, the force reduces, and he begins to drop in more of an arc, allowing him to use his own body -and grip with both hands- to swing with the cable as the nishkatan gains footing against the main trunk of the tree to address the harpoon. The human warrior swings under the nishkatan’s injured arm, feeling his stomach float as the beast gingerly touches the harpoon, howling in pain. He’s running out of time, but he’s on the upswing, and he guides his momentum as much as possible to ease his landing on its head. Fortunately, he’s no more than an insect to the monster that is currently distracted by excruciating pain in its shoulder. He tumbles across its crown between its antlers, rolling to his feet as he continues running towards the nearest antler. He has to dive when the nishkatan howls again, throwing its head back as it tugs on the harpoon. Mury slams into the antler, gripping it like a large tree as he stabilizes himself. As soon as he can, he digs through his bag for his pike, latching it into one of the small black powder kegs on his belt. He pulls the pike bomb free and spins it over, slamming the pike into the skin near the base of the antler. His tiny bomb will hurt it, but won’t do much else. Its antler is as big around as a typical desert tree, and its structure is much more dense and hard than a typical tree.
Murtoa starts to reach for his gear bag, but recalls giving Lykha the flamesie igniter, so he reaches into one of his smaller pouches, retrieving a simple piece of flint.
The nishkatan rips the harpoon completely free of its shoulder, roaring at the trunk winder. He’s out of time, and the human warrior apologizes softly, “I’m sorry…”
He grips the piece of flint, igniting the pike bomb’s fuse with a single solid swipe across his arm plate’s striker pad. He quickly shifts back, shielding his vitals with his back armor and mantle. The bomb explodes, driving the pike deep into the flesh around the antler, and the human warrior braces against the antler as the nishkatan whirls, shrieking a hateful roar of pain.
He uses the next opening to retrieve his rope and hook it to his harness. He loops the end around the antler, tying it off with a deft hand. Keeping a nishkatan disoriented is the only way to survive fighting one. He has bought the trunk winder time enough to reach the limb and begin gripping the surface of the titanic tree’s massive branch. They’ll still need a little more time to get stable, but thankfully, Murtoa of Lakia has everything he should need for the fight ahead.
Surviving will be a problem for after the defeat of the nishkatan.
***