2: The Mists Of Arraiza, Part 2

The angry mists kept striking at the invisible barrier around him. Henry moved forward inspecting the remains.

Suddenly, light shone down from above, casting a beam just behind him. He turned and blinked in awe as a fairy appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Her lightly glowing blue hair fell in wild curls, her eyes dark black and bloodshot, and she wore a dress woven from leaves and flowers.

“Well, this is certainly a pickle, isn’t it?” The fairy’s dreamy smile barely wavered as she watched the creatures twisting within the mist, their forms writhing in ways that seemed unnaturally fluid. “Mist monsters on a Tuesday—how delightfully unexpected!” She clapped her hands, a light, musical laugh escaping her.

Henry took a step back, glancing between her and the creatures inching closer, their glowing eyes fixated on him. “Who are you?” he asked, a mix of wariness and hope in his voice.

“Oh! Names are such slippery things," she mused, twirling mid-air. The way her wings fluttered caught the pale, eerie light of the cavern, creating a brief iridescent glow. "But you can call me Elara. I've been chasing moonbeams and the nasty mist-man trapped me in here." Her voice was sing-songy, as if this were all just a whimsical story instead of a nightmare.

Henry glanced at the encroaching horde. The mist seemed to cling to them like a second skin, shifting and swirling as if the monsters themselves were part of it. "Elara, we need to get out of here!" His heart raced, and he could feel the cold sweat on the back of his neck. The mist creatures were moving faster now, their growls low and menacing.

She looked at him with wide, curious eyes, as though the urgency hadn’t quite reached her yet. "Out? But we're already in the most fascinating place! Have you noticed how the shadows here dance when no one's watching?" She leaned toward him, as if sharing a delightful secret.

Henry’s eyes flicked to the creatures again. They were so close now he could make out their twisted forms—part beast, part nightmare, and entirely too real. "Please, they're coming!" he insisted, his voice edging on desperation.

Elara giggled softly, her laugh as carefree as if they weren’t moments away from being torn apart. "Alright, alright. Hold your horses—though I've never understood why anyone would want to hold a horse. They're quite heavy."

She fluttered closer to Henry, her gaze settling on the wand in his hand. "Ah, so you've found the Wand of Arraiza! Or did it find you?" She tapped her chin, pondering this as though it were the most important question in the world. "Sometimes I think objects have minds of their own."

"You know about this wand?" Henry glanced down at it, still unsure of what to make of the glowing crystal. The weight of it felt heavier now, as if the wand itself was aware of the growing danger.

"Of course! It's an old friend." Elara’s eyes sparkled as she tapped the crystal gently, the surface flashing at her touch. "It likes riddles and blueberry pie. Do you like pie?" She tilted her head, looking at him with an innocent curiosity, as though mist monsters weren’t only moments away from attacking them both.

"Elara, focus!" Henry pleaded, his grip tightening on the wand. "How do we escape?"

She floated backward, her wings shimmering faintly. “The mist shrinks from joy, fades from cheer. What do we share that it dreads to hear?” Her voice took on a rhythmic quality, almost like she was reciting a nursery rhyme.

He stared at her incredulously. "A joke?"

"Yes! Or maybe a song. Do you sing?" She spun again, twirling in the air as though this were all a delightful game.

The creatures were so close now, Henry could hear the faint scraping of claws against the cavern floor. Their growls sounded louder in the enclosed space, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Elara!" he shouted, his voice cracking under the pressure.

She sighed, as if his urgency were a mild inconvenience. "Very well. Follow me, then. But you must promise to keep an open mind—sometimes the straight path isn't the quickest way home." Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she extended her hand to him.

"Anything! Let's just go!" Henry practically grabbed her hand, feeling her warmth against his clammy skin.

Elara’s expression softened for a moment, as though sensing his fear. "This way!" she declared, pulling him toward a section of the cavern wall that looked solid and unremarkable. Without hesitation, she placed her hand on the rough stone and began to hum softly. The melody was sweet, simple, but it carried an odd power. To Henry’s amazement, the wall shimmered and dissolved before them, revealing a hidden passage.

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"How did you do that?" he asked, his heart still racing as they slipped through.

"Oh, it’s simple," she replied with a shrug. "Walls are just doors that have forgotten how to open."

They hurried down the narrow corridor, Henry’s heart pounding in his chest as the sounds of the creatures faded behind them. The air was cooler here, the walls damp and slick. Soft, luminescent fungi grew in patches along the stone, casting a faint, otherworldly light in shades of blue and green.

"Thank you," Henry panted, still trying to catch his breath. "But where are we going?"

Elara twirled ahead of him, her wings leaving trails of glowing light in the air. "Somewhere safe. Or perhaps somewhere dangerous that's pretending to be safe," she said with a playful grin. "Either way, it's better than back there, don’t you think?"

He couldn’t argue with that. "You seem… different now," he said, noticing how her whimsical demeanor seemed to shift, just slightly, as though something more grounded lurked beneath her playful words. "Saner, maybe?"

She glanced back at him, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Different? Well, normal is just a setting on a washing machine, isn’t it?" Her laughter echoed down the tunnel, light and airy.

Despite the situation, Henry found himself smiling. "How do you know what a washing machine is?"

“What do you mean?” Elara asked, blinking innocently before darting forward, leaving Henry to follow after.

They emerged into the open air, where a small pool of water lay nestled in a clearing. The stars twinkled above, their light reflected on the water’s surface. It was peaceful, serene, but something felt off. The air was too still, and the mist that had chased them was creeping closer, spreading faster than before.

Elara hovered over the pool, gazing into its depths, her expression momentarily serious. "The mist is spreading faster than I thought," she murmured, her tone no longer playful. "It won’t be long before it consumes the entire continent."

Henry tore his gaze away from the distant village, where the sparkling lights were dimming one by one. "Elara, what is this mist? And why did that wand come to me?"

Elara turned to him, her eyes shimmering with a strange mix of whimsy and wisdom. “The mist,” she began, her voice softer now, almost reverent, “is a darkness that feeds on fear and despair. It twists creatures into nightmares, warps them until they’re unrecognizable.” She sighed, floating closer to him. “And as for the wand… well, it chose you, Henry, because you carry a light within you—a spark of courage perhaps, or maybe just a fondness for adventure.”

Henry swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He looked down at the wand in his hand, the crystal at its tip glowing faintly in the starlight. “I don’t know how to use it,” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.

Elara’s lips curled into a small, comforting smile. “Magic isn’t about knowing,” she said, gently resting her hand on his shoulder. “It’s about feeling. Trust yourself, and trust the wand. Together, you can make marvelous things happen.”

He raised an eyebrow, uncertain. “Can you teach me?”

Her eyes lit up with childlike excitement. “Oh, I love teaching! Though,” she added with a playful grin, “my methods are a tad unconventional.”

Henry chuckled despite himself. “I think I can handle that.”

“Splendid!” Elara clapped her hands together, her wings fluttering in delight. “Lesson one: Believe in the impossible. Lesson two: Always carry a spoon.”

He stared at her, confused. “A spoon?”

“Yes! You never know when you’ll need one.” She said it with such certainty that Henry didn’t question it further. “Now, let’s see about that mist.” Her tone shifted again, more serious this time, as she floated beside him.

Elara placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her touch warm and grounding. “Close your eyes.”

Henry hesitated but did as instructed, squeezing them shut.

“Imagine a light within you,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. “A warm glow that grows brighter with each breath.”

Henry tried to focus, picturing a small spark of light deep in his chest. As he breathed in, the light expanded, filling him with a sense of calm he hadn’t realized he was missing.

“Now,” Elara continued, her voice soothing, “direct that light out of the wand.”

He felt the connection between himself and the wand strengthen, as if the crystal were pulsing in time with his heartbeat. The warmth inside him flowed down his arm, into the wand, and before he could fully grasp what was happening, a radiant glow burst from the tip.

“Good,” Elara encouraged. “Now, open your eyes.”

When Henry opened them, he saw the wand emitting a soft but steady light that enveloped them both, forming a protective barrier. The mist that had been creeping toward them recoiled, hissing as if burned by the light. Henry could feel the energy flowing through him, though he also noticed that the crystal dimmed slightly, its red hue a shade darker than before. Beneath the main crystal, four smaller gems lined the base of the wand. Three of them glowed, but the fourth was dull, dead.

“The mist won’t touch us now,” Elara said with a satisfied nod. “At least, not for a while.”

Henry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “But it didn’t touch me earlier, in fact, it seemed almost afraid to approach me.

“See?” Elara beamed at him. “You’re a natural!”

Just then, a deep rumble echoed from the cave behind them. The sound was followed by the unmistakable roar of mist creatures, and before Henry could react, the mist poured out of the cave like a flood, faster and more furious than before. It swirled past them, as if they weren’t even there, heading straight for the distant village.