I don't scream, although no one would have blamed me. The thing that startled me is a Pixie. A small humanoid figure, maybe a little more than a foot tall, wearing patchwork armor made of chitinous plates and bones. Under that armor its body is painted with something that emits a glow similar to flowers I'm here to collect. Maybe that is why I only took notice of it now.

Now, most Pixies wouldn't be reason for concern. Quite to the contrary. They are one of the few fey creatures that can be easy to get along. Well, usually. We even had some living in the gardens of the academy. This one wasn't like those cheer- and playful little things at all though. No, this one was a feral, a warped caricature of a Pixie that has developed a taste for blood and meat. The kind that are usually only talked about in hushed tones, if at all.

One of them isn't that much trouble either. Not right away anyway. The problem is that there never is just one Pixie. Even two or three I probably can deal with, of that I'm pretty confident. I'm not dealing with just two or three though. That much becomes quickly obvious as I begin to spot more movement at the forest's edge.

I have trouble taking a proper headcount as they keep flitting about, their glittering, bee like wings buzzing angrily. It has to be a dozen of them though. Maybe a few more.

That many suggests that they must have a hive somewhere nearby. And a hive of feral Pixies is trouble. The kind of trouble that usually results in an emergency quest sponsored by the local lord.

It isn't quite that bad yet though. Hopefully. I don't recall talk about any recent disappearances after all. I swallow hard as I realize that I might just end up as the first mysterious disappearance if I'm really unlucky.

I scramble away a little more and silently curse myself for dropping the basket somewhere along the way. It would make for a decent shield when dealing with these nasty little buggers.

My dagger isn't the best weapon for dealing with them either. It is still better than nothing but right now I wish I had a club instead. Oh, and some armor wouldn't be bad either. Sturdy clothes can stand up to only so much after all. Damn it! I'm not even wearing a scarf that would protect my throat. My feet, and especially my heels, are dangerously exposed in the sandals I wear as well!

Tentative hope replaces fear though, as I realize that they aren't advancing on me any further. They seem content to keep their distance as well. Maybe they are as afraid of me as I'm of them? Eh, not likely. They are probably just careful. Yes, that sounds more like it.

At least that gives me a chance to get back on my feet. I draw my dagger as well, no matter how inadequate I feel wielding it.

It is then that one of them flutters forward, its glittering wings still buzzing angrily. It raises something that looks almost like a horn to its lips. What it produces as it blows into the instrument though is a weird, painfully high pitched sound.

I wince. At the same time I'm tempted to laugh. The mismatch between expectation and result was just too big. I manage to restrain myself though. I'm already in enough trouble. I don't need to antagonize the little monsters on top of anything else. It would have been a terrible, panicked laugh anyway.

What happens next kills even the last vestiges of humor, even gallows humor, for good. Something else approaches from within the stand of trees. At first I take it for another, possibly higher ranking, Pixie, but it quickly becomes obvious that it is something else. Or rather, it is more than just another deranged Pixie.

My yaw drops as I realize what it is. It is another Pixie. The fattest, most disgusting one I have ever seen, and it is riding atop the most revolting mount I can imagine. It is gods and goddesses damned giant tick painted in the same luminous paint the Pixies themselves use.

The fat Pixie pulls on the reins of her disgusting mount and it rears up, eliciting a cheer from the other fluttering monstrosities that have gathered in between us.

I on the other hand feel like puking as I can see the giant insects sucker like this. Or is it a stinger? No, probably a sucker. It doesn't matter anyway. No way am I letting it stick me with that thing! Nuhu!

I grab my dagger a little tighter as if to ready myself for a fight.

This prompts another squeaky cheer from the little monsters.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Then I bolt and run, as fast as my feet can carry me, in the general direction of the village. I can barely see where I place my feet, but that is no reason to slow down at all. The painfully high pitched horn sounding behind me once more is all the reaffirmation I need in that regard. If anything I try to run even faster as the buzzing of wings picks up behind me.

Damn it! This is a hunt and I'm not the hunter! I just want to pick some flowers! I want to scream, but I save my breath. At least for now. Screaming is an option I might fall back on later, once I'm closer to the village.

Considering the circumstance things don't look too bad. I even manage to gain some distance. Pixies aren't terribly fast fliers after all, especially when they load themselves down with weird insect armor. The tick is probably not that fast either. Or is it? I honestly have no clue. Never mind. I just have to focus on running, then I might just make it.

Of course, that is when disaster strikes. My ankle twists as I hit a small depression in the ground hidden by the high grass. Before I know it and more importantly, before I can slow down, I go tumbling head over heels.

It is a wonder I don't break anything. Another wonder is how I don't accidentally stab or cut myself with my dagger. I can almost hear my mother reprimand me not to run with a knife. Yeah, as if that is my biggest problem.

The sound of buzzing wings is getting louder again.

I try to get up and somehow I even manage to get back on my feet. I won't be running anywhere anytime soon though. Not with an ankle hurting like this. What else can I do? I'm not nearly close enough to the village to call for help.

Even if someone hears me, it would take them a while to get here. If they can even find me in the dark.

I'll have to fight. Like it or not, I don't see any other options. I bit my lips and narrow my eyes.

Well, at least the little bastards have covered themselves in glow in the dark paint. Very convenient. I might even hit some of them thanks to that. Otherwise I probably would never even see them coming.

Then I have no more time to waste thinking.

The first of my pursuers swoops down towards me with a disturbingly cute war cry, brandishing what seems to be a spear with a razor sharp stone tip. It completely overextends itself. That these little monsters aren't exactly good or fast fliers isn't to its advantage either.

I don't bother with the dagger. Instead I slap the pest out of the air with my free hand.

The Pixie's war cry breaks off abruptly.

I'm kind of disgusted. This felt a little like slapping the biggest, fattest fly ever. I'm also glad that I don't see where it lands. I can't ignore the divine whisper in my ears though. Not entirely at least.

[Success! You killed a living being in mortal combat for the first time! The Moon Father is your witness and gifts you 3 points for the Death Arcana as a reward.]

Great. Just what I need. Well, at least I can be certain that this particular Pixie won't be getting back up. Not unless they have a necromancer among their number.

Ugh! No! Don't even think about things like that.

Then the next opponents are upon me and all worries about jinxing myself fly out the window as I need to dodge since I can't strike all of them at once.

The next one gets entirely too close for comfort before I can swat it out of the air with a clumsy backhand blow. The view of its shark like teeth up this close will probably haunt my sleep for some time. Well, if I'm lucky enough to survive this mess anyway.

Two down. Maybe a dozen or more to go. It is hard to tell, as they are buzzing all around me by now.

I do my best to make myself a hard target, but I'm no trained warrior. It is only a matter of time before one of them gets lucky.

I only realize that the ones diving at me from the front and the sides are only distractions, as one lands in my hair at the nape of my back. I whirl around but can't shake it, as it holds on tight. Instead I have to grab it, to fling it away. Before I can reorient myself I feel a sharp pain in between the thumb and the index finger of that hand, where another of the buggers is biting down hard.

“Ouch!”

Damn! This is turning bad fast!