The throne room wasn’t that far from the start of the corridor, but the situation did not make things easier for Elyse, especially after she witnessed the carnage. She saw bodies strewn all over the floor, dying or severely injured. They all wore armors with the crest of House Gathbergen, the reigning royal family and the name of her family. Realizing that the enemies went in unnoticed, with the soldiers fighting outside as a distraction, Elyse hastened her sprint, this time using her druidic magic to enchant her legs, enabling her to run much faster.
But before Elyse could go far, the tree that she called home warped around her and blocked her way. She promptly jumped and kicked the barrier, creating a hole big enough for her to get through before it closed.
As she ran, she heard a chuckle coming from a disembodied face.
“You’re a feisty one, princess Elyse,” said the voice. “No surprise, considering you’re the runaway princess.”
The voice sounded like Fritz, thought Elyse. She initially thought it was the case until she remembered what Fritz said about being impersonated by an impostor. Elyse tried to ignore him as she quickened her pace, this time slipping through another barrier just before it closed.
“Slippery little girl, aren’t you? But you’re not fast enough!”
True to what the voice declared, the next barrier trying to stop Elyse closed much faster, forcing Elyse to stop before she put herself in danger. She tried to kick the barrier again, but it did not break like before. Instead, it ensnared her hooved legs and pulled her to the wall, this time restraining her limbs, leaving her immobile.
“You’re too easy to read, Gathbergen, just like your father,” said the voice.
“No, you’re just underestimating me!” declared Elyse.
Green aura filled her body before it exploded outward, breaking the vines restraining her as she continued her assault on the barrier. This time, she had anticipated the vines and managed to dodge them all. However, she knew she would end up exhausted first if she kept dodging and attacking the barrier. She then devised something very powerful, yet very risky to pull off.
She started to do so by engulfing her body with nature’s aura, creating an armor that could blow up upon contact. This unusual use of druidic magic even earned her praise from her enemy.
“That is a very interesting application,” said the voice. “But the reward is not worth the risk, so you’re doing a fool’s gamble, Gathbergen.”
Fritz’s impostor was right. Druidic magic was raw, meaning that it would transfer its energy everywhere, including towards Elyse. However, she had no other ideas and, hoping she wouldn’t end up getting killed by her own magic, dashed towards the barrier.
Then to her surprise, the barrier simply disassembled, and she ran through it. She quickly stopped, sliding on the wooden floor.
“That’s not a smart move, princess,” said a familiar voice, though this one wasn’t taunting her. She turned around and saw Fritz, but she was unsure.
“I am not taking any chances, Fritz,” said Elyse. Fritz’ presence caused her to not see a vine coming at her from a blind spot and at a very fast rate. Before it could ensnare and caused a self-injuring explosion, it was stopped as Fritz held out his hand.
“How about now?” said Fritz as he forced the vines to retract into the wall, which Elyse witnessed.
“Good enough.”
“Take your armor off. It won’t serve you well for the coming battle.”
She obliged and dispelled her green aura armor before she continued to run towards the throne room, this time with Fritz accompanying her
“Your dragon friend told me to go ahead while she holds back the trees attacking her,” said Fritz. “I don’t know what kind of ice magic she uses, but that dragon’s something else.”
“Still think it’s wise annoying her?”
“After she caused a blizzard in the reception hall? Nah. You made some friends out there, Elle. Exiling yourself does have merits.”
“It didn’t start that way.” Elyse then reminisced the time she met Azureath, Adeline, and Hans. She vividly remembered kicking Hans with her powered-up hoof kick. As she smiled, she said, “But I’m glad it worked out in the end.”
“Looks like it.”
The two satyrs kept running while fending off the living tree that was also the castle. Each time they did, the attack intensified, causing Fritz to feel the strain of wrestling his control against the fake Udvik who took his identity. Then, just as they approached the throne room, their proximity with the fake prince made battling for control much harder for Fritz.
As the fake prince tried to stop them using all his power, Fritz tried to wrestle control from him, but found that something helped made his plant control that much powerful that it started corrupting the plant itself. Fritz’s control was being overtaken by it.
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“Shit!” he exclaimed as he struggled to open the barrier to the throne room. “Elle, I can’t open it for too long! Get through once there is an opening!”
“But how about you?!”
“I’ll be fine! Get to Udvik and stop him from corrupting the tree! Oh, and before you go, tell me the name of the tree so I can talk sense to it!”
Normally, asking someone a tree’s name would be dismissed as the words of an insane person. But Fritz knew Elyse could talk to plants, just not the ability to control and manipulate them. The satyr also knew that the name of the plant would also make them more ‘willing’ to be controlled, and only Elyse should know.
“Its name is Anrich’ar,” said Elyse.
“Noted.”
The barrier then opened as Elyse jumped through it. Fritz kept it open long enough for her to get through before he became too strained to keep it and released the control before quickly changing his focus to compelling the tree to stop.
“Come on, you sorry excuse for a tree. Listen to me!” He commanded. “That satyr’s corrupting you. Snap out of it, Anrich’ar!”
Fritz could not feel the tree’s assault to lessen. Fritz could feel his muscles straining and blood slowly trickle down from his eyes as his vision blurred, the indication that his body was at its limit. He never would’ve thought that he would be battling for the control of a giant, ancient tree that had become a castle for generations of monarchs and many different houses of satyr royalty. It’s age, and the magic it accumulated, along with the corruption the fake prince fed it, were working against Fritz.
“Goddamn it,” he said as his knees started to buckle as exhaustion was settling in. “Deal with him quickly, Elle, or we are done for.”
***
“Ah. Princess Elyse. Welcome home.”
Elyse turned towards the throne and saw the fake prince. She then experienced many feelings almost at the same time. Shock, sadness, regret, then anger, all held behind a visibly angered and cold caprine expression glaring towards the brown-furred satyr who looked exactly like Fritz. No one would see the difference if they did not know the deposed prince personally.
Behind him was a satyr who had a very complicated relationship with Elyse, bound to the wooden throne carved from Anrich’ar’s woods with vines growing from the floor itself, unnatural as it was. He couldn’t move his body and was forced to look straight by vines wrapped around his neck. The satyr was the one who raised Elyse to be his successor one day, though in the process strained their relationship for being too insistent. Elyse never wanted the throne, especially after learning that a satyr’s succession law gave blood siblings equal rights. Her sisters and brothers all had the same chance of becoming the next leader of House Gathbergen and the Bracken Woods, but king Abelgard, Elyse’s father, chose her instead.
He had a reputation for having a relatively peaceful relationship with the other satyr kingdoms. Unfortunately, Val’seris declared war and was winning, with the king already incapacitated and at the mercy of the fake prince Udvik.
Seeing her father helpless and could do nothing but look at her made her realize that, despite everything she did to undermine his authority, he was still a caring, albeit strict, father. The fake prince would win, but this time, Elyse would come to her father’s aid both as a daughter and as one of his subjects; a princess responsible for protecting the throne.
“Udvik,” said Elyse, with a low, growling voice. “Or should I call you ‘faker’ instead.”
‘Udvik’ scoffed. “It seems that he told you everything. I must say. Even after everything I did to secure the throne, he still is a thorn. I don’t understand what he hopes to gain with it. His kingdom is no more.”
“At least he still fights back and keep being your thorn, faker,” said Elyse. “Now, show me your true face before I come up there and kick that stupid face of yours.”
“Try, then! See how foolish your actions—”
Elyse accepted the challenge without hesitation. She enchanted her legs so she would run and jump so high she practically reached the throne in under a second. ‘Udvik’ seemed to be surprised and was completely taken off-guard when she round kicked him in the face with such a force that would break someone’s neck. ‘Udvik’ was only saved by his own preparedness; he wouldn’t taunt her like that without actually planning for something. However, he was so stunned by the force of the druid kick that he could not go on with his plan fast enough before Elyse landed another straight kick directly at his solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him and further stunned him.
Elyse did not delay. Thinking she defeated ‘Udvik’, she ran to her father and said, “Father, I have come for your rescue. Is there—”
“Elyse, behind you!”
A familiar female voice caused Elyse to turn around just in time to see a tree root being shot at her. Her agility managed to dodge it, with the tree missing the throne and the king by mere inches.
“Ohhh…haven’t had someone kick me that hard before,” said ‘Udvik’. His voice was mixed with someone else’s. “A princess with that kind of kick…is so unbecoming of one.”
“Well, I ain’t living a pampered life,” said Elyse, making a stance. “And you certainly don’t know me. I’m the figurative black goat of the family…should have used a different term for that.”
‘Udvik’ shed his disguise, knowing that impersonating the true prince was no longer necessary. The satyr impersonating the prince was a black-furred satyr with red eyes and two pairs of horns that made him very demonic in appearance while also being intimidating. His fur was soft and short, all of which were covered under the prince’s armor he wore. He then pulled out a mage’s staff out of the tree he controlled. The staff was brimming with nature’s magic, making it possible for him to manipulate plants to do his biddings.
Then she saw a familiar satyr running up the throne’s stairs, daggers on each hand. Elyse recognized her and felt elated. She was the source of the voice warning her.
“Lis!” she exclaimed.
“Good to have you back, sister,” she said with a smile on her caprine face.
“Where are the others?”
“Safe in the common room. Anrich’ar was keeping the room free from this satyr’s influence, but we don’t have much time. He’s corrupting the tree. If the tree falls, Bracken Woods will die with it.”
“Anrich’ar’s the mother tree? But it’s not even a pine tree!”
“You…well, never mind. Not like you’ll listen, anyway. Be careful, Elyse. He’s not just some druid mage.”
“I can sense it. But for some reason, it felt…familiar.”
“So, you freed yourself from that trap,” said the black goat with a deep, almost demonic voice. “I must compliment your royal family, Gathbergen. However, this is the end of your line. Soon, the Great Tree will fall, and this forest shall be the seat of my power!”
Lisle, the dagger-using princess, turned her head towards Elyse and said, “Show me what you can do with those hooves, Elle.”
“Oh, I have a lot to show you.”
She and Lisle then dashed towards the satyr, determined to keep the Bracken Woods alive.