Dawn broke as the light danced along the tangles of the faewood. The dancing lights appeared serene, but only silence permeated across the wood as though all life had ceased.

Within the wood, a red vapor-like mist steadily encroached as it rolled and roiled across the forest. Eventually, the mist had reached the edge of the wood and flowed into open grassland.

As soon as the mist made its presence, the sound of a bell rang and resonated across the field as vibrant energy overflowed from wooded totems situated all around the green plains. Upon reaching a crescendo with each bell rung, the vast green energy pulsed and flowed like a massive wave that crashed onto the red mist.

As though it were being peeled away, the mist finally revealed the hidden terrors within its veil. Countless desiccated and husk-like beasts snarled and roared towards the sources of the vibrant energy.

“Does the Red King look down on us so much that he believes he could take down the fae with such middling beasts?”

A proud and arrogant voice filled with contempt rang out as a being seemingly made of flame wearing an ashened robe appeared in the sky; looking down on the creatures from its lofty position.

“Don’t be so quick to judge, Amver.”

Another voice answered with a calm yet sonorous tone. Below the being of flames, the earth opened and raised forth a massive man seemingly made out of stone wearing similar robes in earthen hues.

“The Hounds of Rot aren’t so simple. They bring with them the Red Mist with which he empowers his army. They are the harbingers of his decay – so long as they infest the battlefield, they continually nourish his forces.”

With a finger to his chin in thought, he added, “However, your fire is their natural nemesis, so I can understand why you’d have forgotten such a foe in our previous clash with his army.”

Raising a hand then conjuring a ball of flame, the fiery fae sneered, “Bah! Worthless mongrels such as these deserve nothing more than to become ash.”

Bringing the flame on his palm closer to his face, he blew onto the fire. What seemed like a gentle puff of air suddenly surged and grew into a surging wave of fire. Like the fiery breath of a dragon, the flames swept over the field scorching every single one of the panicking beasts turning them all to cinders, and yet despite the blistering scene; not a single blade of grass was burned.

“Impressive control as always, Amver.” Nodded the stone fae. “It always amazes me that you’re the most hot-headed among us and yet possess the greatest of control over our elements.”

The fiery fae clenched his hand and the scorching flames in turn died down until it eventually faded away. Placing his hands at his back, the fae sighed.

“You should know, Ogmai. Fire is among the most powerful of our elements, but in turn is also the most harmful to our kin. No matter my anger, I cannot call myself the Spirit Lord of Flame if I am to destroy all that I must govern.”

The rocky fae nodded at this answer. The current Spirit Lord of Flame is young and hasn’t been long in his position, but possessed remarkable talent among the fire fae. It was through this talent that he was chosen as a Spirit Lord by Syldrasil, but talent alone cannot measure his capacity as a Lord. Hearing his words, Ogmai was relieved that the young fae was fitting well into his position.

His relief was short-lived, however, as the presence of more taint seemed to come forth from the woods.

Tens, dozens, a hundred or so bony husk-like bipedal creatures started pouring out from the decayed forest. Hissing and snarling as they brandished their bladed limbs.

“Huff! So, the Ravagers have arrived.” snorted Ogmai.

“Hmph, this is the main force of the Red King?” Amver snapped his fingers as he noted the ever-growing tide of shambling beasts. As the sound rang out, dozens upon dozens of wooden beings came forth from beneath the earth. Humanoid fae that looked as though carved or grown from wood – an army of Spriggans surged forth almost matching the horde in number.

“This is only the beginning. The Ravagers make for the bulk of their forces, but be wary of the Bloodhunters. They are a special breed that can severely harm the essence of fae.” warned Ogmai as he in turn called forth an army of humanoid stone warriors matching the Spriggans in number.

As the two forces faced each other within the plains, the first clash of the two armies within the Faewood had finally began.

***

*SCREECH*

With the appearance of the black primatus, the frenzied cries of the surrounding mob reached an all-time high.

The pressure it emitted felt even heavier than Gultrave’s; a sign that the changeling’s instincts perceived this new Tyrant as an even bigger threat. It racked its brain to see if it came to possess any information whatsoever regarding this beast, and after a time its efforts borne fruit.

Unfortunately, what it learned was neither useful nor was it good. The primatus troupe did indeed have a Tyrant leading them, but what it learned was that they were supposedly led by a different Tyrant.

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It was described as an overly large grey primatus with proportionally long arms and appeared obese while covered in long coarse hair. Its prowess laid more on its command and ability to manipulate the troupe, and was given the name Oneris, the Weathered Sage.

However, the beast before them bears no semblance to the Tyrant that was described. This creature had a hulking physique with a body covered in short black fur and had a head crowned with two massive horns pointed skyward. Its arms were nearly as thick as the largest trees that were present with their volume taking two-thirds the size of its own upper body.

As perceived by the changeling, this Tyrant was nothing short of a living mountain of muscle.

The changeling was concerned. Seeing the being before them, it couldn’t determine if it possessed enough stored mass to compete with it head-on. It was confident in its ability to escape, but it wasn’t sure if it could win in a fight especially surrounded as they are.

Just as the changeling was wracking its brain, the black primatus slowly got up on its knuckles and turned around. It gestured with its head at the large red furred four-armed primatus then started walking away.

The four-armed primatus nodded in response and made a series of calls and grunts towards the troupe. Almost immediately, the troupe quieted down and started moving to follow along the Tyrant. The four-armed primatus looked towards the changeling’s group and gestured the same way.

At first, the changeling was confused by this but then realized something. It never occurred to it, but considering its current bipedal form, it’s highly possible the primati have mistaken it to be one of their kind.

As the red primatus made another call, the changeling decided to test this and carefully walked towards it. Seeing the changeling moving, the red primatus snorted and turned to follow the rest of the troupe.

The changeling looked towards the two wolf siblings and could see they remained fierce while vigilant, but on the other hand it could sense that the little green one was anxious. As long as they were recognized to be under the changeling’s protection, perhaps they could avoid trouble with the troupe’s leader. However, should a confrontation be unavoidable, the changeling will do everything in its power to let its group survive.

As they trailed behind the red primatus that the changeling had dubbed as the sub-leader, the wood became denser as larger trees became the common sight while they gradually moved towards the heart of the land within the lagoon.

Eventually, the trees began to part and opened up to a wide glade roofed by the largest of the gnarled trees.

There, by the roots of the most massive tree it had ever seen, sat a large portly primatus that appeared to be mostly covered in long gnarled white hair.

The changeling concluded that this creature was most likely the Weathered Sage from the information it discovered. The fact that the troupe is led not by one, but two Tyrants was very disconcerting. If the black Tyrant acted as the enforcer; as felt through its domineering presence, then the white one must have acted as the head that lead the entire troupe.

The fact that this species has reached such a level of social structure where they’ve accomplished having two supposedly antagonistic existences working together has placed them on the top of the list of the changeling’s desired gene samples. The potential of such a species was hard to predict but incredibly vast, so the changeling really wanted to incorporate them badly.

Just as the changeling was contemplating on how it could steal a few samples, the white primatus suddenly made a loud horn-like call. The entire troupe suddenly quieted down and as the changeling looked around, it noticed that itself and its group was led to the center of the glade by themselves while facing the white Tyrant.

It made to observe them quietly and unmoving, never changing its lazy-looking posture as it made no gesture, almost appearing like a statue. Time passed as the silence grew oppressive, until eventually the Tyrant made a grunt.

“Ooh ooh! Aah!”

After suddenly making a call, the red primatus – the one the changeling labeled as the sub-leader, approached them as though following a command. At first, the changeling believed it was tasked to examine or test the changeling, but to its confusion, the beast completely ignored it and kept moving.

The one it approached was surprisingly the little green fae.

The wolf siblings became guarded, but didn’t openly show hostility as the primatus didn’t show aggression in its approach. Arriving before the little green fae, the primatus lowered its head and appeared to observe it from different angles. With its size and closeness, the little fae was nothing short of frightened and nervous with it continually staring at it. It wanted to hide behind the changeling, but it was afraid that any sudden actions might rile up the creatures.

Making a few grunts and calls, the primatus then lowered something to the ground from its hand. It appeared to be a dried-up plant of sorts that seemed to have been dug up from the earth along with its roots in the dirt.

The little fae tilted its head in confusion and looked up towards the beast. It made a few more grunts and started pushing the dired up plant towards the fae.

Unsure of what it wanted, the little fae continued to stare at the dried-up plant and thought it was pitiful. It seemed that it had been a long time since the plant had any of its preferred nourishment so the fae thought it should give it a little help. With a wave and surge of its power, a light green glow that seemed warm flowed from its hands as it touched the plant.

As though its previous state was a lie, the plant began to grow vibrant and lush thanks to the little fae’s power.

Seeing that the plant was now green and healthy, the little fae nodded in satisfaction, but all of a sudden, the primatus surrounding them began to clamor, riling themselves into a frenzy.

The red primatus suddenly started beating its chest while giving out a cry then turned towards the white Tyrant. It nodded and made a grunt in response.

Nodding in return, the red primatus then turned towards the little fae. Confused and afraid, it tried to run behind the two wolf siblings, but several primatus barred its path. The siblings were also surrounded, preventing them from getting close to the little fae.

As though completely oblivious to the events, the red primatus reached out with its giant hand over the little fae as though making a grab for it. Afraid, the fae could only curl up and wait for its fate since it seemed like there was no escape.

Just as the primatus’ hand was over the fae, its arm was suddenly grabbed by a massive hand and held it in place. What shocked the primatus wasn’t the strength that held its arm in place but rather when it turned towards the source, it found the little masked creature it originally thought nothing of.

Its size was no different than before; smaller than even the smallest of their troupe, but the hand that held its arm in place was so disproportionate in size, that it dwarfed its own even if two of its arms were put together.

Only one creature possesses this strange ability to alter its body; a mimic. However, their troupe had learned over the years that mimics can only mimic beasts that match their own size, so seeing a mimic able to change their size was nothing short of a shock for the primatus.

So paralyzed by shock, that it never saw the other massive fist that struck it.

***