~o0o~

When Quaraun woke up the following morning, he looked out the window to discover the landscape had changed. The Twighlight Manor had moved. No longer in the lush green valley, no longer overlooking the deserted farming village, the huge haunted house had gotten up during the night and dragged itself to the base of Fire Mountain.

Fire Mountain, in Pepper Valley. Home to King Gwallmaiic, the Elf Eater, leader of the Lich Lords. The frozen, blue crystal skeleton, whom in life, had been Quaraun's lover: BoomFuzzy the candy maker and gourmet chef.

The courtyard and its undead apricot trees still sat to the back of the building as it always did.

"Why are we at Fire Mountain?" Quaraun pondered out loud.

Quaraun looked up at the sky. "Oh my!" he explained.

The sky was no longer there. A huge blue, cut crystal glass bubble, a dome, a magic sphere, sat down over them. Quaraun spent several minutes examining and contemplating the shimmering cut crystal overhead.

"We are in a glass bottle," Quaraun said. "Oh dear! We are in a genie bottle. This is very bad. Who would do this? Who even could? Di'Jinn magic is rare. And the Di'Jinn are dead, save me, and maybe ZooLock."

Seeing how there were no guards at the door once again, Quaraun decided to see if he could get outside and take a look at Fire Mountain up close. It was, after all, BoomFuzzy's home. If he was going to find anything that would help him resurrect BoomFuzzy, it would be here, wouldn't it?

To his surprise the door was unlocked. There were no guards outside either. Looking down the stairs of the tower, the tower no longer seemed so very tall. So it took him not nearly as long to get back down to the bottom as it had taken him to reach to the top.

Quaraun stood at the front parlour of the manor house, looking outside. He decided on the easiest was to go about entering the volcano's underground castle, then slowly snuck out of the Twighlight Manor. Though it appeared he needn't have been so cautious. There was one gate on the ground level, and it was neither barred nor guarded. There had been no guards anywhere around the tower or the courtyard either.

Once outside of the castle, Quaraun made his way to the edge of Fire Mountain and set out to looking for the entrance into the palace he knew was in the lower levels of it's cave system. He hadn't gotten far when he spotted someone else.

They were running away from a group of black shapes. Quaraun quickly started to follow their lead. They seemed determined to escape.

At least until one of the black shapes stopped, whipped around and ran directly at the person, knocking them off balance.

Quaraun tried to determine what the black shapes were, and they appeared to be large birds, or perhaps small dragons. They were too far away for him to be certain.

A few moments later a black bird with blue crystal eyes flew at him, cawing angrily.

"What? Arrgh!" Quaraun screamed as the bird flew at him, clawing at his hair with his talons. Then as suddenly as it had appeared, the bird flew away.

"Damned bird," Quaraun muttered as he pulled out his silver hairbrush and began smoothing his shiny whit tentacle hair back into place. "Wait. Isn't that the same bird that attacked me before? How odd. It is stuck in the gene bottle as well, I suppose."

Quaraun looked down the road again, hoping to catch sight of any sign of the other black creatures attacking the other two people. But they appeared to have disappeared now. Both the mysterious crystal birds and people they were chasing were now no where to be seen.

Quaraun looked up at the stars, and the sky was a dome of blue above him, and he felt the cool night breeze running through his hair. He turned south and started walking down the road.

Quaraun carefully made his way closer to the mountain once again, scanning the roads and paths along it's edge, looking for see if one went inside the mountain through some doorway or tunnel.

Quaraun heard a noise behind him. He looked back down the road to see a new figure approaching. A different person, not one of the two whom had been chased by the crystal birds. This figure was smaller, a Dwarf or a Gnome perhaps, and coming towards Quaraun, very slowly, approaching with caution. Oddly, they were holding a glowing white stone above their head. They appeared to be in a daze or trace, walking without seeing, zombie-like.

Quaraun was about to continue on the road south when the figure caught up to him. He was shorter than Quaraun, but broader across the chest.

The being saw Quaraun and screamed out in a language Quaraun had never heard before, neither Gnomish nor Dwarven, gibberish words mixed with grunts and shrieks. He raised his arms up to shoulder level, still screaming, still walking very slowly.

Quaraun thought he saw a glimpse of long white fingers, like a bog mummy's, hanging down from the being's arms.

Quaraun watched the strange not-Gnome. Quaraun decided to help the poor man. He is clearly a stranger to the area, as was Quaraun.

Quaraun approached the not-Gnome and said in Elvish: "Hello, little brother. Do not scream such a strange words. May I help you?"

The creature made no response, continued screaming out strange words, and attempted to reach Quaraun. The not-Gnome drew his broadsword, a common Dwarf weapon, and said: "Go! Run!"

"What is it you are doing here?" Quaraun asked.

"Get away from me!"

"But why?"

"Please! Go!" the not-Gnome begged, pleading at Quaraun. His eyes were wild, terrified, and desperate.

Quaraun stepped forward.

"Don't come near me!" The not-Gnome held the sword in both hands, pointing the blade forward at Quaraun. In doing so, he had let go of the glowing white stone, which now remained in place, floating a few feet above the not-Gnome's head. The not-Gnome's eyes glowed a vivid purple colour.

"Please! Get away!" the not-Gnome said, his voice becoming deeper and more sinister. He took several steps towards Quaraun.

"Tell me why!"

"Go!"

"It's all right," Quaraun said, slowly backing away. "I'll not hurt you. I meant no harm. I'm on your side. I just thought you looked tired, carrying that big stone and need help. I meant no offence."

The strange being continued to scream and glare at Quaraun.

It took Quaraun a while to realize that the creature was laughing. It was an unpleasant, grating sound, like a cross between a lion's roar and fingernails scratching on a chalkboard.

Not knowing what else to do, Quaraun decided to introduce himself.

"My name is Quaraun. Who might you be?"

"Njord," the creature said.

"Njord? Is that your name?" Quaraun asked, but the not-Gnome said no more.

He continued to stand, glaring at Quaraun, his eyes still glowing a lurid purple. This time, he reached for his sword. But the glowing stone remained above his head, and he could not grab it.

Njord's eyes glowed brighter. The purple colour darkened even more, becoming a deep purplish red colour, turning nearly black.

His face became longer and more pointed, his snout elongated, and his teeth appeared, sharp and deadly. Quaraun could feel his fear.

A low growl, rumbled from Njord's throat.

"Forgive my presumptuousness," Quaraun said to the not-Gnome. "But you see, I'm afraid I am lost. I do not know this area. I was asleep by a mountain stream leading into the valley, then I woke up in a deserted farming village, and two men locked me in Rapunzel's tower, and than I woke up here, and I'm all so very confused, I do not know how to get back home. You don't think there is any chance you could help me, is there?"

The not-Gnome considered Quaraun for a long, silent moment. He snorted once, then began to scratch at his neck.

"You know, it is quite rude to not speak when spoken too," Quaraun stated.

Njord shook his head and replied: "No. No. No help for you. No help for anyone! Go home! Find a place where no one knows you. Don't stay here too long. Be gone, gone, gone!"

Njord began to run, shouting and screaming incomprehensible words. Quaraun knew so many languages of so many races, he couldn't understand how it could be that he couldn't understand Njord's words. The creature rushed away from Quaraun, his head down and his long arms pumping.

As Njord passed, Quaraun noticed a small black bird with sparkling cut crystal eyes, sitting on Njord's shoulder. Whispering into Njord's ear. Quaraun began to suspect that Njord was just a puppet, controlled by the strange crystal bird.

As he watched, the bird flew into Njord's ear, and Njord screamed, as blood sprayed from his ear. He began to run away from Quaraun, screaming.

"What are you doing?!" Quaraun shouted at the bird.

And then Njord turned the corner around a corner.

He vanished.

Quaraun waited for a few minutes, but the not looking back didn't reappear. Quaraun walked further up the street. He wondered if Njord would ever return.

Then he felt something touching his shoulder. He reached up and grabbed hold of what he thought was a cobblestone, but when he pulled away it was a shrivelled up and almost completely dry skin.

"Argh!" Quaraun screamed and threw the lump of dried skin as far away from himself as he could.

Quaraun looked around. There was no one else.

The dried skin began to crumble.

And Quaraun screamed again.

The piece of flesh rotted before his eyes, maggots formed and crawled over it. Then the horrid thing turned to dust and blew away in the wind. Quaraun stood there, staring at the empty space where the vile creature was a moment ago. His heart was beating wildly and he was sweating.

This place was strange.

Full of magic.

Dark magic.

Wild magic.

Faerie magic.

He would have to be careful. It would never be wise to fall into a Faerie trap, of this Quaraun knew for certain. He had heard too many tales of innocent Elves getting caught by the cruel and bloodthirsty creatures that dwelled in the Forest of No Return.

He looked around for the Faerie Stones or Fey Crosses or mushroom Faerie Rings. He knew if Faeries were in the area, they would have built a sacred circle of some sort, some place they could stand and not be seen.

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Then something caught his eye. Something lying in the dust. Something he didn't recognize. Something like a rock, only larger. An old, battered looking stone, maybe the size of a fist, but its surface smooth, almost glassy. It lay near some bushes growing beside an old path.

It seemed oddly familiar. Maybe he'd seen it in the market earlier this year? He must have.

Quaraun knelt down to pick it up. He picked up the stone and turned it over and over in his hand. Something was etched on its surface, something that reminded him of two L's back to back. At first glance, it seemed unbroken.

"Hmm..." Quaraun thought. "I've seen this before. But where?"

Then he noticed something sticking out from underneath the thing. A piece of cloth. A dark, grey cloth.

Quaraun reached out. His hand touched the cloth. The fabric felt warm against his skin. Like fine smooth, soft satin silk.

Quaraun moved his finger slightly, touching another part of the fabric underneath. Something hard, and round.

His finger traced a shape.

A symbol.

Something Quaraun recognized.

A star.

He recognized it from somewhere.

"I know!" Quaraun said to himself. "It is a symbol that was carved on the forehead of one of the skull's in BoomFuzzy's gingerbread house. The skulls that..." Quaraun paused, his voice quivered. "The skulls that he used the day he turned himself into a Lich. The day BoomFuzzy died."

Quaraun felt sick, his stomach churned. He took a step backwards.

"You shouldn't have done that," a voice whispered aloud.

Quaraun stood up and looked all around but there was nothing. No one. No where.

"They shouldn't have died," the voice continued. "He deserved to die. Look at what killed him. That monster's power has driven him mad! He should have stayed dead! You shouldn't have brought him back!"

Quaraun looked down. The grey stone was glowing. A low rumbling came from inside it.

"It is time to choose, Elf." the voice boomed from inside the stone.

"Choose?" Quaraun asked, looking up at the sky, still looking for the source of the mysterious voice. "Who? What? I do not understand. Please. Explain yourself."

"Do not let your fear of death drive you to do this, for death will follow you no matter your choice."

"I don't understand. What do you want from me?"

The stone began to glow brighter, brighter, hotter, and then it melted away, leaving behind a pile of ash and bone. A windstorm picked up and blew away all the sand from the road, exposing the bare stone ledge of the cliff.

A carved skull appeared on the ground before him. The star on it's forehead, matched the star which was carved into the stone, ledge ground. On each point on the star on the ground, hovered yet another glowing stone.

Quaraun slowly backed away.

As he did so, the skull lifted up off the ground and followed him, the five glowing stones doing the same.

The skull turned into blue crystal and hovered before him at eye level.

"Go ahead," it said. "Make your choice."

Quaraun looked down. The road was now filled with a sea of bone ash and dust, swirling around him, faster and faster, bubbling up from the ground all around his feet.

"What magic is this?" Quaraun asked.

"Choose!"

"Choose what? I don't know what you mean. I don't understand what you want me to do!"

As the wind whipped the dust into his eyes, he could see the crystal turning a deep shade of blue.

"You are our Maker," it said. "You are a servant of the Dark Gods."

"I serve no gods, dark or light," Quaraun answered angrily. "I AM a god! I am the Sacred Pink JellyFish. People worship me, not the other way around. It is YOU who should kneel at my feet!"

"But you serve only the Dark God. You will not listen to any other voice but his! We need you!"

"Ha! The Dark God? He is dead. And his son had turned into a monster. A great black fire breathing eagle."

"No," The skull said. "He has returned to us. We have seen him with his own eyes, He is still alive. He needs you."

"No one needs me. No one loves me. No one wants me. I am outcast from society. Cast out to wander the world alone. Unloved and unwanted."

The blue crystal began to spin, swirling the bones and dust around it, faster and faster, faster than Quaraun could blink.

"Make your choice," it said.

"No!"

"Choose!"

"I refuse!"

The swirling stopped.

A bright blue crystal grew out of the swirling, hovered before Quaraun, and then turned into a young girl.

A young girl, carrying in her hand a pink jellyfish.

"Who are you?" Quaraun asked.

"I am the Angel of Death," she said, holding the pink jellyfish in the air. "Is THIS what you are?" The girl held out the wriggling jellyfish.

"You look like a girl."

"I AM a girl. But I serve the Dark Gods. And you are no god. You are nothing but a jellyfish, living inside of an Elf. You are a parasite." The girl shook the jellyfish in her hand violently. "THIS is what you are!"

Quaraun did not answer. He simply watched, his face void of expression, as the girl squeezed the jellyfish. The creature fell limp.

Dead.

Quaraun was shocked and horrified. Images of his mother's murder flashed in his mind. Her brutal bloody murder, the day the Moon Elves, smashed open the head of Quaraun's Elf mother, to reveal the jellyfish living inside.

Mother's ever loving tentacles, ripped from her body, and lovely moon umbrella stomped on and squashed flat.

The girl dropped the dead gelatinous thing from her hand. It landed in the dirt, unceremoniously. He took a few steps back and turned away. His eyes were watering, he could feel the tears threatening to fall.

He hated this.

He hated death.

He never wanted to be part of any of this.

All he ever wanted to do was swim free with the other jellyfish, free in the ocean. But now he was stuck.

Stuck forever.

Trapped.

Trapped in the body of an Elf, never to have freedom again. He stared at the ugly, crushed corpse of the jellyfish the girl had killed. So beautiful moments before.

Alive.

Now dead.

Quaraun paced back and forth, feeling trapped. Trapped.

"What do you haunt me?"

"I am Death. I am the bringer of death."

"Your words mean nothing to me," Quaraun said.

"You are The Pink Necromancer. You speak to the dead. You speak for the dead. You steal my dead from my Swamp of Death."

The girl began to laugh, her face twisting and contorting as she did. A Jack-o-Lantern's head began to form where the little girl's head should have been, her arms stretched outward, longer, twisting, spiralling, turning green and sprouting vines.

To Quaraun's horror the girl, morphed and melted away, turning into a grinning, Jack-O-Lantern headed scarecrow.

"No!" Quaraun said, stepping back, away from the scarecrow. "No! That's not how it works! That's not how it works! That's not how it..." Quaraun closed his eyes and put his hands over his face. "The Pissed Off Pumpkin Patch isn't real. It's isn't real. It's just a children's fairy tale."

"Is this your final answer?" Death asked.

"I don't know," Quaraun said. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I don't know."

"If you do not know than you must die. I must kill you."

Quaraun's ability to think clearly or rationally, had left him. He felt like he was in a dream, but he knew he wasn't. He knew that Fire Mountain was surrounded by The Forest of No Return.

A Fae Forest filled with dark magic, trickster Fae with morbid illusion. He had to steady his mind.

Focus. Focus. Focus!

But on what?

What?

The skull!

The skull was real.

It was a relic belonging to King Gwallmaiic.

The skull was real, everything else was not.

Real... real...

"It's not real," Quaraun said to the girl. "I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die."

"Is this a magic doll?"

Quaraun opened his eyes. The little girl was back. She was holding what appeared to be a black magic doll in her hand. A burlap doll, with button eyes, and red and yellow headed pins stuck all through it.

"Perhaps," Quaraun answered.

He took the doll from the girl's hand to get a closer look at it. But he, should have known better than to do that. As soon as he touched the doll, the girl's voice broke out into a demonic, haunted cackling glee.

"You are such a fool, Quaraun," the girl said. "Look at me. Look into my eyes. Do you see the truth? I am Death. I am darkness. I am the night."

As the girl spoke, something appeared behind her. A large pink jellyfish, about two meters long and nearly three wide. The top half was covered in pink scales and a bright blue underside, and had a bulbous fin that looked like it could easily swallow the entire girl whole. In front of the thing stood the girl no more, for she had morphed yet again and was now a figure clad in white robes, tall and thin with pale skin

"You are not real," Quaraun said to the girl.

"I am as real as anything you will ever meet in this world or any other."

"You aren't here! You aren't real!"

Quaraun closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the girl and her giant jellyfish monster were gone. On the ground at his feet sat the blue crystal skull. Perched on the skull, was a black bird with blue crystal eyes. It cawed at him, then flew away, leaving the skull behind.

Quaraun bent down and picked up the skull.

"This is why I've avoided so long, coming to Fire Mountain. The Faerie Magic is strong here. Wild Fae are everywhere. This close to the mountain, one can trust nothing he sees or hears."

Quaraun put the skull in his bag, and continued on his way around the base of the mountain looking for a way to get into the tunnels beneath it and find King Gwallmaiic's under mountain palace.

Quaraun continued his way to the mountain, and as he walked, every plant he walked past, uprooted itself and started walking along behind him. Every flower. Every bush. Every shrub. Every tree. And every time Quaraun turned to look behind him, they all instantly stood still, pretending they were not following him.

"Fucking trees," Quaraun muttered under his breath. "You ain't fooling no one."

He quickened his pace, hoping to lose the trees.

After short while he sunk to his knees and sat there, panting from running through the dense forest. He stared up at the canopy above him, watching its shifting shadows dance across the ground. They created strange shapes, like twisted snakes, or giant mushrooms, or the faces of creatures he would never know. It frightened Quaraun to look at it, though he couldn't quite tell why.

The forest around Quaraun grew darker and colder with each passing minute. The temperature dropped even further, making him shiver in his thin silk kimono.

The path Quaraun walked on, grew narrower and narrower until it was nothing but a rabbit trail through the grass, and whittled away to nothing.

"Damn it! Now where do I go?"

A young pine tree scampered on ahead and pointed all of it's limbs to a narrow cliff, leading around and up, the side of the mountain.

"Thank you," Quaraun said to the tree as he took a deep breath and continued onward.

His soft suede soled silk slippers were not made for travel on dusty, untraveled mountain trails like this. His found barely any footing for his cane, and dug his shoes into the ground as he stepped, terrified of slipping and falling off the edge.

There was no ledge, no rockfall, just bare, sandy dirt, and tiny little pebbles, trickling down the side of the mountain, with each step he took. His heart quickened as he glanced down and saw there was nothing, but a sheer drop to his left and straight up to his right.

With his heart pounded, he kept going and walking. The trees got taller, but there were no birds. No insects buzzed. Even the smell was different up hear.

Cleaner.

Drier.

Far less oxygen than Quaraun was used to.

He felt dizzy and light headed.

Quaraun stood up and looked at the cliffs in front of him. It went up and up and up and up and up, so far up, that he could not see the top of it.

Behind him were trees.

Lots and lots of trees.

All still pretending they were not following him, every time he looked back to see if they were still there.

Big ones.

Pine trees.

Old growth. Mast trees.

Great for ship builders.

Not so great for people who didn't like to be lost in the forest.

Fire Mountain.

Here it was.