Ailith’s tall, armoured form as the group’s dedicated guardian interposed itself between Faye and the threat immediately. Ailith was taller than Faye by at least a foot, and her armoured bulk was wide enough that it was difficult to see around her.
Gavan, on the other hand, immediately began a chant off to the side of the group. Faye wondered why Ailith wasn’t protecting the physically weak magic caster but had no time to ask. His robes, crisscrossed with leather straps that held various pouches and holsters for wands or other mysterious objects, flapped in the sudden wind that his words evoked.
Faye wasn’t sure what the man was about to do but she couldn’t wait to see it.
Unfortunately, it seemed that Ailith was going to do everything she could to ensure that Faye wasn’t able to see anything.
Faye moved to the left, trying to catch a glimpse of Arran — who had immediately moved towards the threat Ailith had announced — but Ailith moved in lock step with her.
“Don’t try it, girl,” Ailith said. “I am locked to you. Where you go, I go. Where I go, you go.”
Ailith demonstrated with a step to her right. As she stepped, Faye’s right leg moved too. Faye gawped at her body.
What is that? She instinctively thought, then it came to her. Magic.
“Ailith, how am I meant to level up if no one ever lets me do anything?”
“Doesn’t matter, we’re keeping you safe. Stop it.”
It seemed that when they were in the heat of things, the adventurers grew much more unreasonable and protective than they had all seemed back in the town. There, they had come across as carefree and… well, adventurous.
Faye hadn’t really put thought to it before, but Gavan looked to be in his late teens, early twenties. Arran was mid-twenties, at the most. Ailith, it was hard to tell. Faye always assumed that people that much taller than her were ‘real adults’, but she would put her somewhere around the same age range.
These people should have been her peers. Instead, they were treating her like a child. A toddler that had wandered away from its pram. She shook her head.
From ahead of them, noises that she hadn’t noticed as much different from the wind through trees resolved into something a bit more worrying: the crashing of something through branches and bushes.
That was apparently a signal, because Ailith hunched down a little, lifting her left hand out of Faye’s sight. A flash of light erupted from in front of the huge woman.
Gavan’s chanting rose into a crescendo, then he pointed forward with both hands, each wielding a different piece of magic paraphernalia. At his words, and gesture, forces of what only could be described as pure magic erupted from his outstretched form. It gathered into a beam of light and sound that tore its way across the clearing and into the trees, cracking across the air like lightning. Faye blinked and the afterimage burned into her corneas flashed.
She couldn’t see what it had done, but the squeal of terror, or rage, that emanated from the forest ahead of the group was enough to know that his attack hadn’t completely killed off… whatever presence it was the group had detected.
Faye took a few moments to look around them. The clearing they were in was deceptive. It made the mind think it was safe in an enclosed, private space. The reality was the opposite. The trees shrouded the surroundings in shadows that became a gloom the further back into the trees you looked.
Whatever was attacking the group was causing enough noise to probably be heard miles away.
Ailith took a few steps over to stand next to and ahead of Gavan. The magic wielder turned a look on Faye and raised an eyebrow. Faye shrugged. She wouldn’t apologise for them meeting the challenge she’d expected to meet.
To her surprise, he grinned at her.
Maybe she wasn’t completely out-voted, then.
“Another approaching, to our right.” Ailith was calm, still, but Faye noted that she hadn’t shouted it out for Arran to hear. “Gavan, what’s your status?”
“Cooling off.”
“Right then,” Ailith turned to Faye. “Stay next to Gavan. Act like you are protecting him. This is your designated role. Do you understand?”
Faye nodded. “I’m not stupid, Ailith.”
“Hmph.”
Then she turned and bounded away. Her armoured form moved so much quicker than Faye expected, still, despite her having witnessed the woman’s startlingly quick and limber movements before. She saw armour and expected slow and cumbersome.
Gavan withdrew a slender piece of wood that had been carved with intricate designs from a holster on his belt.
“How many wands are you hiding, Gavan?”
He didn’t reply, but he did grin and twirl that one around his fingers for a moment before taking a proper hold and growing serious. He didn’t hold it ready, it was down by his leg, but his eyes were fairly serious as he looked first toward where Arran had gone and then Ailith’s direction.
“How dangerous are… whatever they’re fighting?” Faye asked. She couldn’t see where the two had gone, exactly. The sounds of the fights were loud and echoed strangely through the trees.
“Depends.”
Faye flinched as a high-pitched shriek followed a large burst of sound that was like a mallet hitting a gong.
“Are they winning?”
“For now.”
They both watched in relative safety and silence. Faye wasn’t sure what she anticipated, but the fact that Arran and Ailith were both much stronger than her did flash through her thoughts more than once.
“Gavan!” Arran’s distant shout barely reached them through the trees and the echoing, mordant shrieks.
The man tensed. He turned to Faye, briefly, and started moving towards Arran.
“Stay here.”
Faye drew the borrowed sabre. She wasn’t sure what she’d do against an enemy that was giving all three adventurers pause. She didn’t even know what the enemy was.
The sounds of Ailith’s fight moved, over time. It seemed that she was herding her opponent towards Arran and Gavan. Faye was sure that nothing would get through Ailith’s defence. The problem, of course, was whether she’d be able to put down whatever it was that was attacking her.
Faye thought not, but she would presumably be able to hold it off until Arran and Gavan could take it out.
She blinked.
Then she couldn’t help but flinch at the sudden lack of sound and the odd, pearly light that filtered through the trees around her.
Though the light filtered through the leaves and created patches of strong light, there was nothing floating in the air. No pollen, seeds, or even dust and flies that she would normally expect. She wasn’t sure that she should expect anything to be the same as her life’s experience told her it should be, but it was all she had.
“Not from this land, if my judgement is true.”
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
The whispered words sounded as if they were right behind her, but when she swirled, her sabre ready, there was no one there.
“And yet methinks your fate is not to fail.”
The air was oddly stale, with no movement. The sound of the trees had disappeared. Still, there was no sign of whoever was talking.
“A sword held clutched and ready, its cold steel blue.”
Faye looked at the blade of the sword, its steel blade indeed catching a hue she had never seen before. She shook herself and kept looking for the owner of the voice.
“Oh, aye, says I, of true raw grit. Not frail…”
Her heartbeat was slow, her grip steady, her eyes darted from place to place. There was no hiding here in the strange, ephemeral light. There was no one else nearby.
“Yet lost amongst open vale and old oak tree.”
The voice turned a shade darker. The world around her took on a brighter hue, something on the back of her neck itched.
“A young and shining girl, who might she be?”
Faye turned and slashed out with the sabre, the steel of the blade parting the pearlescent light with its edge, popping the light like a bubble. A shriek, much like the one she’d heard earlier when Arran was fighting, pierced the strange still air.
All at once, the veil was torn, and the shadows of the forest slammed back into place. The shift was jarring but Faye realised that her blade was stuck in the neck of a willowy creature, its eyes featuring no whites but purely made up of the mother-of-pearl colours that had adorned the light she had seen.
It looked as shocked as Faye felt.
Congratulations! You have slain a level six [Briag Sprite].
For breaking [Briag Sprite]’s aura of [Glittering Illusion], you have been granted a boon.
Bonus experience granted.
Congratulations! You have levelled up! You are now level 3.
As before, nothing else accompanied the level. Faye sighed; she was trying not to be disappointed by the process but it seemed like there were very few rewards.
The sprite’s body dissolved into glowing motes of pearlescent light that drifted upward on an unseen current of air.
The sounds of battle once again rocked the trees around her. Faye carefully sheathed the sabre, turned towards the fight and started running. She had defeated one sprite, she could defeat more, she was sure.
----------------------------------------
To Faye’s surprise, the other adventurers seemed to have had a difficult time facing the sprites. Arran was weakly fighting back, but the briag was able to dance aside and avoid his strikes as simply as walking. Gavan was lying on the forest floor, immobile.
Faye rushed to the downed mage and checked his pulse.
She breathed out a sigh of relief when she felt it, quick and thready but present, under her fingers. She rolled him into the recovery position, making sure that his airways were clear.
A cold sensation flowed down the back of her neck, and she turned to see the sprite that Arran had been fighting stretching out a finger towards her. It must have been touching her.
She narrowed her eyes.
“I did not give you permission to touch me, sprite.”
The creature’s large, pearlescent eyes widened and bulged a little at Faye’s words. But before it could say anything, she drew the sabre and slashed out in the same motion. The steel of the blade easily parted through the papery, bark-like flesh.
This sprite didn’t expire immediately, but it did rush away from Faye, pointing its finger and hissing at her.
Fortunately, Arran snapped out of whatever daze he’d been under and lunged toward the sprite. The tip of his blade easily pierced its back and emerged from its chest in a splash of odd light.
Congratulations! Your group has slain a level eight [Briag Sprite].
This one dissolved into motes of light that spiralled up and away as if borne on tiny wings, too. Arran looked at her, his expression locked halfway between annoyance and chagrin.
“I owe you an apology,” he said.
“Yes. But now isn’t the time. Ailith is still on her own.”
The swordsman nodded, aligned himself to where they heard sounds through the trees, and dashed away. He moved faster than she’d ever seen him move, though she guessed that he’d been moving at least that fast earlier to get the lizards off her.
She shook her head. There were things that were normal here that were just so strange. People sprinting through a forest about as fast as an Olympic athlete was something she had a feeling she would have to get used to quickly.
Gavan groaned.
She knelt near his head. His eyes were moving under the closed lids, rapidly, from side to side. She grabbed his shoulder and shook him.
“Hey, it’s okay, wake up!”
His eyes shot open.
She put pressure on his arm.
“It’s alright, you’re awake. You’re safe.”
He focused on her, though it took time, then nodded.
She helped him sit, giving him the balance he obviously needed.
“I’m dizzy,” he said. He put a hand out to steady himself and another went to his head. “I feel sick.”
Faye frowned. He might have a concussion, if his head hurt this much.
“Can you cast a healing spell on yourself right now?” she asked.
“No,” he managed to get out.
Grimacing, he gently laid back on the forest floor. Faye stood, to give him some space. She didn’t know Gavan all that well yet, but even she realised that he would prefer not to be coddled.
The sounds of fighting had ceased, which she hoped meant that the other pair had managed to untangle Ailith from the sprite she’d encountered.
Faye thought back to the sounds she had heard before, when they had first approached. For creatures that used illusion like they seemed to, she wasn’t sure why there had been so much noise. Especially as the one she’d faced had been absolutely silent until it had started its attack.
The forest was returning to its natural state, though. The sprites may as well not have been here at all.
Curious about the wildlife in this world. Is it all extraordinary, or am I somehow listening to regular birds that survive against all odds?
“Did you fight one, too?” Gavan asked her, after a moment or two of silence.
Nodding, she said she had.
“How did you break free?”
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “It was talking to me. But I felt something… weird. Decided I would cut first, ask questions later.”
Gavan didn’t reply to that, but he muttered something under his breath and covered his eyes with his arm.
Arran and Ailith appeared from amongst the trees a short while later. Ailith had her helmet off, hooked to her belt, and her lanky hair was plastered to her head with sweat.
“Thank the gods you’re both alive,” she said. “I never want to meet those things again.”
Gavan grunted something that sounded like an agreement. Faye just smiled a little.
“I wouldn’t mind, actually,” she said. “I levelled off the one I killed.”
Arran’s eyes widened and he broke out into a grin. “That’s actually really impressive. Congratulations!”
“You levelled off a single one of those things?” Ailith asked. She wasn’t necessarily suspicious, but Faye guessed that if the warrior had had more energy she’d be looking more askance at Faye. “How did you even take it down on your own?”
“I would also like to know,” Arran said. He was still smiling though.
Faye tapped her left hand against the hilt of the sabre at her side.
“It was all the blade, Arran, thanks again for the loan.”
He waved his hand. “My pleasure. But I fail to see how the sabre did anything. It’s a minor weapon, at best.”
Faye shrugged, pulling the sabre from the scabbard a little to look at the blade. It was good steel, well balanced, sharp, and not too weighty. She’d prefer something longer, if she had the choice, but it was a good sword.
“Sprites must be allergic to iron,” she said. “It’s all I can imagine that would explain it. It’s not like I’m stronger than you.”
Arran frowned pensively. He had one hand cupping his chin, and the other resting on the pommel of his own sheathed blade.
“Woodland sprites, I thought they were simple elementals?” Ailith asked. She’d chosen to seat herself on the forest floor. “Why would they be allergic to iron?”
“I’m not sure,” Arran said. “What made you suggest that, Faye?”
Gavan muttered something but they couldn’t hear him.
They looked to the supine mage; his arm still draped over his face as if he were a dramatic pop star in a photo shoot.
“What?” Ailith asked. “We can’t hear you.”
“The sprites,” Faye said. “They’re probably fae, right?”
Arran and Ailith scowled.
“Why would they be… you?” Arran asked.
Faye blinked.
“You know, like… the Fae, creatures that live in the woods and bewitch children and travellers? Don’t accept their gifts, eat or drink what they give you, and definitely don’t give them your name?” she recited. She was fairly sure that those were the defining features of fairies, well… the Fae at any rate. She shook her head, there was no way she could remember all the subtle distinctions.
Arran shrugged his shoulders. “Not something I’ve heard of before. Ailith?”
“Nah, not something we’ve come across before now.”
“Uncivilised, the both of you,” came Gavan’s muttered words. Faye tried not to smile at the expressions of annoyance crossing the two standing adventurer’s faces. Gavan didn’t move his arm, but he cleared his throat and began talking. “It’s a foreign word, fae, but it means fairy. They are creatures of the world that live in spaces that those of us cursed to wander this plane alone cannot access easily. They are highly magical beings that have a habit of trapping their prey in illusions that are intensely real, allowing them the time to finish them off at leisure. Each member of the race belongs to unique groups, amongst their own kind, and scholars have long noted their ability to mimic civilisation to some degree in their own planes of existence. Anyone that has lived to tell the tales of the otherworld has not lasted in this plane for longer than a few days after returning.”
Faye was still staring at Gavan, mouth open, when he moved his free arm to point away from the group.
“There’s something approaching. Much weaker than the sprites, don’t worry.”
Ailith broke out into laughter, slapping her armoured thigh with her gauntlets, causing a harsher and louder sound than anyone expected and causing more than one flustered jump.
“What was that for?! What are you laughing at?”
“Look at her face, oh by the gods, that was…” she got out before breaking into guffaws again. Arran looked at Faye with a confused look that broke into a grin.
“Let’s forget about me making you all laugh and deal with whatever’s coming our way?” Faye said, drawing the sabre and hooking a thumb over her shoulder.
“You already gained one level, let’s see how far we can get you to the next one. I can’t deny that you’re capable… but the moment it looks like you’re in trouble, I’m taking the kill.”
Faye shrugged. It wasn’t like she had a way to stop him.
As Gavan wasn’t too worried this time, Faye was just curious what was coming for them and what kind of challenge it might pose.
She turned and prepared herself for its arrival. She was barely aware of the grin stretching across her face, she simply stalked forward, flourishing the blade a little.
“Alright, let’s get to it.”