Chapter 3
Daffonil and Peaches
Few knew of The Grape Grove. The druidic Order of the Vine kept it secret and well protected. Located deep within the bowels of The Forest of Shade, far from any man-made trails, sat a sacred natural sight. The Grape Grove acquired its name for obvious reasons. The grove was a clearing of sorts, open to the sky but shielded from every side by a thick tangle of trees, shrubs and an expansive tangle of grape vines. Every inch of the ground here remained a soft blanket of vibrant moss that normally shifted colors with the seasons despite the fact that Villinsk’s weather rarely changed. White toadstools, crystal mushrooms, and patches of flowers in all colors decorated the sacred space with the paintbrush of The Green. A crisscross of natural white flagstones created a walking path about the open space. The grape vines were magically enhanced by the spirits of nature from a time long forgotten. They scrawled across the trees to a height of twenty plus feet and were enchanted to hide the sacred site, shifting, and adjusting to conceal it from prying eyes and to mislead those that came too close conveniently directing them away. They also mystically bloomed with flowers or grapes all year round. At the center of the grove sat a huge tree stump that must have been a great oak at some point in history. It suspended above the ground some eight feet on three huge, twisting roots like an archway bridge formed in nature rising towards the sky. This altar of a stump was so old as to be petrified wood more akin to stone. At its very center atop the stump sprouted a pulsing violet glowstone, a heart stone. Occasionally found at the heart of great and ancient trees on EL, these were considered sacred in their own right by most nature worshippers, the Goddess Danuuba, and all fey. A heart stone was sentient and contained the wisdom of the tree as well as its life force. A powerful magical stone, the heart stone was a collective consciousness, linked to all the trees and plants of the entire forest. Bleached white by the sun, this stone stump altar served as a site of worship to the forces of nature, collectively known as The Green. Individually, several Gods and Goddesses received prayers here and offerings. Menyane, God of Nature, Zuvack, God of Animals, as well as others including the Goddesses of Seasons, Plants, Weather and Water, Trinid, Sahearis, Filisedess, and Learianna respectively. Danuuba, Goddess of Earthly Magic and the Fey, was also worshipped regularly here. This site radiated spirituality and a calming sense of peace. Violence of any kind was forbidden in The Grape Grove. Collections of nuts and fruits, vegetables and flowers graced the space under the altar, gifts from the inhabitants of the forest. These offerings came from the animals, the elves, magical creatures and fey of all kinds.
Today, the sun shone brightly overhead just before beginning its descent into evening. The air was sweet and warm with a gentle breeze. Tufts of white fluff drifted above lazily. So deep within this forest a coating of thick green moss draped across many of the tree branches giving it that ancient feel. Tangles of vines coated in tiny white flowers and sparkling clear crystals swirled through everything. The teardrop vines, cousin to the crystal vines, rarely grew beyond the oldest and deepest forests. Besides a family of rabbits and a lone skunk, only one being currently tended this sacred sight. A young elven woman, a wood elf to be precise, moved about the clearing in a spritely fashion. She was energetic and pleasant, bouncing from flagstone to flagstone in an effort not to disturb the fairy rings of toadstools sprouting in various places. She wore a simple form-fitting smock constructed of vines and woven grass made into fabric that encased her slender figure like a delicate suit of armor. The design of her garb was quite intricate and impressive. Her ankles, hands, shoulders, and feet remained bare. Atop her not quite shoulder-length auburn hair at the crown of her head rested a delicate wreath of flowers. That living band had no meaning beyond simple decoration. Her sleek, pointed ears peeked through her straight hair at the sides revealing to all what her almond shaped, green eyes and delicate features did not. Her elven heritage could not be missed. Beautiful and ethereal like all her kind, she held the diminutive stature and slender build specific to the wood or forest elves as well as their more common cinnamon skin tone. Barely topping five feet in height, she was a petite woman, but graceful beyond human standards. Perched high above the grove floor, the holy woman was busy carefully arranging flowers around the heart stone at the center of the petrified stump altar. She surrounded the flower offering in a collection of smooth stones gathered at the creek. She constructed a mandala, a sacred ritual of sorts, in hopes of attracting good fortune and guidance for the weeks to come. The heart stone pulsed with its steady purple light, its constant rhythm, the heartbeat of the forest. That pulse calmed the young woman. It always made her feel safe. The seasonal prayer ritual was a staple of her worship. It would ensure a fertile season for the forest as a whole. The ritual also served to call in the blessings of the nature deities to maintain the strict balance of the land.
“Peaches, don’t stray too far. I don’t want to have to track you down when I’ve completed my prayers.” Daffonil Leaftell called out to her friend, the skunk. Peaches paused, looking from a hole in the grapevine border back to the elf. “Peaches…” The second call of her name caused the skunk to return albeit reluctantly with an indignant huff. She trotted back to the altar and curled up on the ground below the tall arch. The elf woman giggled in a lilting tone.
Daffonil sat atop the altar with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. Relaxing her body, she tilted her head to the sunlight, feeling its warmth on her cheeks. She gently rolled her shoulders and released a sigh of contentment. As the energy from the sun’s rays soaked into her soft brown skin everything felt ready. She began to hum and meditate. In her mind she offered up a prayer to the Gods and Goddesses of nature, she called out to The Green. She began to whisper her words aloud, chanting the prayer in elven. As a druid she was a sacred priestess to the forces of the planet. EL’s life force filtered through her with the power of the elements. Fire, water, earth, and wind called to her as did the plants and animals, the primal energies of the world. The winds picked up, tossing her hair about. The trees at the edge of the clearing all began to sway back and forth as if waving or cheering, the green moss fluttered among them, and the teardrop vines sparkled. The sentient grapevine writhed and twisted. Daffonil could feel it all and she smiled. She sucked in a deep breath then exhaled softly. Her eyes flashed open with a look of confusion. In her mind’s eye she saw a large, dark shape moving through the forest. Visions were not uncommon during such sacred rituals. Sometimes the heart stone reached out to its guardians. It could communicate with them when needed. She could not identify the huge shape, but it felt ominous. The Forest of Shade was widely known as a dangerous area in the country of Villinsk, but this presence she felt was something more, something unnatural that did not belong. Danger was a part of nature and readily accepted by the balance keepers. Druids did not disrupt the natural order if they could help it. But this danger felt foreign, misplaced. Unbeknownst to most, this forest was also a sight of great power, and great natural energy. The Grape Grove sat at a nexus of ley line energy. If the planet of EL were a being, then the ley lines were her arteries. A nexus was a particularly powerful sight for the crystalline core of the planet’s energies to radiate and surface. The grove’s heart stone drew upon and focused this energy. As a druid of the forest and guardian of the grove it was her divine duty to protect the land from harm, particularly the heart stone. Only four guardians existed in the forest at any one time. It was the highest station of her druidic order for any separate pod. At the two-year mark in her duties, Daffonil was by far the newest and youngest member of the special order ever to be chosen for such an esteemed position. She trained in the druidic calling for decades but to be invited into the position of guardian was an honor like no other. Her fellow druids were shocked when she was called to replace the elder guardian after his passing. Daffonil was likewise shocked, but the heart stone chose her. Known as a “bud” she was quite young to even be a druid let alone a guardian. The other guardians had centuries of experience under their belt. Daffonil had not reached a single century in age. She remained almost two decades from the milestone. She was but a child to most of her people, barely reaching womanhood.
The petite elf hopped down from the altar, easily climbing the twisting roots and scooped up her little black and white friend. “Peaches, we have a problem. Something evil has entered the forest. Elder Faerin is not due back soon and the other guardians are on missions. We will go and speak with Starmane. He will know what must be done. If all else fails, we can seek out Lady Ashe for guidance.” The woman addressed the skunk as if she could understand her words, because in fact she could.
Peaches was no ordinary skunk. She was a blessed companion, sent by Zuvack, God of Animals, to aid and accompany her in her priestly duties. Every druid of the order formed a connection with a different animal, elemental or plant. Animals were by far the more common spirit companions. The specific companion spirit represented elements of the druid and offered new insights on the world. Daffonil was still unsure why she received Peaches when she put out her call. She did not seem a very guardian-like companion. Thus far, in the entire recorded nine-hundred-and twenty-four-year history of the grove and its guardians, none had ever received a skunk in answer to their divine call. Daffonil tried not to dwell on the topic. She loved Peaches dearly. But the fact remained that the Gods decided she was best defined by a… skunk…
Having been born in the amazing emerald forests of Larl, a small country far to the west ruled by the elves and ancient fey, Daffonil never expected to find such a place as The Grape Grove in Villinsk. This was considered a land of humans, a young and barbaric land. She led a very sheltered life as a child. She thought all lands settled by humans were spoiled, depleted of the true blessings of nature. In her early years, she came to believe that aside from Larl, only the wildlands held the true spirit of the natural world. Her parents taught her that. Later she learned better. She joined her druidic order, the Order of the Vine, back in Larl when she first came of age at fifty-six summers. That was the youngest a wood elf child could be and still become a druid initiate. The young elf maiden always knew her calling. Daffonil loved animals and plants and pretty much everyone and everything. She only saw the best in others. The order taught her many things about the first world, the fey realms, and the green faith. Her parents were more traditionalists. They spent their days like most of her clan living in fear of the eye tyrants of Bagoth that bordered Larl. They were not enthusiastic when their only daughter joined as an initiate of the order. Her parents feared she would be conscripted into the border guard. They believed in keeping to themselves, excluding other beings like destructive humans and the eye-tyrants from their lives. They were complete separatists. In their eyes, everything that was not part of their traditions led to evil and corruption. They even went so far as to avoid other elves that were not wood elves. But Daffonil did not believe the same way. She loved the centaurs and the woodlings, the monochs and the fairies, the sun elves and the moon elves and the star elves, too, and every other race she encountered. She enjoyed learning about new cultures and exotic foods, dances, music, art, and stories. The satyrs and fauns were delightful! Sure, there were bad apples among them, every tree held bad fruit, but there were also rays of sunshine in every group. She considered good people rays of sunshine, beams of joy and light sent to feed the world and help it to thrive. Daffonil was always the optimist. She was the girl dancing in the storm, waiting for it to pass so she could count the puddles, laugh at her reflection and gaze upon rainbows.
The winds shifted suddenly. Daffonil felt the change. A dark flutter erupted in the treetops surrounding the sacred grove. A murder of crows landed, all facing inward towards her, all cawing loudly at once. The young elf clutched Peaches close. She grew concerned. The call from a crow could be a sign of danger, a warning from the Gods. What did this mean?
A soft voice whispered into her ear as if carried on the breeze from some great distance. “Listen… be vigilant…” At first, this startled her. She spun to see who was speaking but there was no one. She calmed her nerves and attended to the task at hand. She could only assume the deities of The Green were speaking to her, possibly through the heart stone. That thought gave her comfort whether it was accurate or not. That purple pulsing light helped to ease her.
Daffonil debated her options then placed Peaches at her feet. She called upon the power of the grove to enhance her strength, bolster her powers. Druids had the ability to tap into the power of the sacred grove, the magic in the ley line intersection thrumming beneath them. All Villinsk held the strong vibrations of magic. Heavy deposits of crystal stretched beneath the surface. These lands held more crystal than most. This natural crystal channeled the energies and was one of the reasons Villinsk was known as The Magic Kingdom. Those energies were but a piece of the flow of the world. The ley lines enhanced that flow as did the heart stone. Guardians even had the ability to tap into the power of the heart stone occasionally. She whispered the words to a prayer, letting the winds carry her words up towards the nearest crow. As a young druid, her magic was limited, still developing and growing in strength as her body developed and learned to channel it properly. The grove’s enhancement improved her ability considerably. The sacred site helped to concentrate her magic and the heart stone could also choose to enhance it. A twinkle of green light sparkled through the air to coat the bird. The elf dipped her head respectfully and extended her hand. The enchanted crow flew to land on her arm, facing her. It cawed in her face loudly and flapped its wings.
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Daffonil’s deep green eyes grew wide. “What? But how? Is he well?” The elf engaged the crow in conversation, her prayer allowing them both to understand one another.
The crow cawed repeatedly. Daffonil’s usually happy expression shifted to one of concern. The bird then flew into the air and swooped westward in a short dive before circling overhead with a final caw. With the message delivered, the entire murder took flight and departed as quickly as they arrived. Daffonil clutched her hands together and pressed them to her chest. Her heart raced beneath her palms. She chewed her lower lip while debating the best course of action. She truly wished the elder guardian, Faerin, were here. She wished any of the other druids were here, guardian or not.
“Peaches, I must find Starmane immediately. He is in trouble. You will go and alert the other guardians. Warn the first druid you see and urge them to deliver my message quickly. I fear time is of the essence, my dear friend.” Peaches squealed and then smacked her lips. Her fluffy black and white tail bounced side to side. Daffonil planted her hands on her hips and glared at the skunk. “There is no time for you to fetch food! This is of the utmost importance, Peaches! Promise me, no distractions. You must alert the druids and find another guardian quickly!” Peaches grumbled and then whimpered. The tiny skunk darted off to disappear through a hole that formed in the massive grapevine.
Daffonil raced westward, slipping back into the thick forest as the sentient vines parted to allow her passage from the grove. Despite being barefoot and in the thickest part of the forest, the elf darted through the underbrush with practiced ease. Being a druid and a guardian, the plants worked with the petite woman, allowing her to slip past them without hindrance.
Daffonil looked to the sky. The sun was well past noon and would be dipping out of sight in a couple of hours. Darkness, while part of nature, was also the time when other forces took charge. Many of the forest’s more dangerous inhabitants prowled at night.
“The crow said to head westward, and there I would find Starmane. She only said he was injured, but not how badly.” The elf mumbled aloud. Daffonil had come to terms with speaking to herself out loud long ago and receiving no answers. Druids spent great amounts of time without seeing another soul to speak with or at the side of their animal companions. The animals rarely responded in a manner most would consider conversation. The druidic path was often one of solitude and contemplation.
She skipped along at a speedy pace, leaping fallen logs and hopping across creeks with ease. A very cheery girl, Daffonil often carried a smile absently as if her lips just naturally curled upwards. In her defense, she thought life to be a beautiful miracle. The world was a rainbow of happiness and experiences wrapped about you. How could one not open their eyes and feel the love and happiness everywhere? The moss was growing nicely this season and the mushrooms were filled with fairies. Blossoms peaked above the wavy blades of grass in every shade of green. The leaves of the trees grew big and thick creating the shading canopy that gave the forest its name. The crystal, teardrop vines sprawled across the forest with their white blossoms and tiny crystals. Life thrived all around her. Birds chirped and the squirrels and pon-prons skipped along the branches on high. The flowers were like beacons of color and joy. Nature flourished and in it the beauty of the world shone brightly. Life shone brightly. Daffonil was so engrossed in the journey that she almost missed the signs. She could become easily distracted. It was a topic often brought to her attention by her elders, including the other guardians. Peaches even scolded her sometimes for her incessant daydreaming. Paying attention was part of her duty as a sentinel of the forest. Luckily, this time the signs were almost impossible to miss. A huge swath of brush and several saplings were torn asunder. The young trees ripped from the earth and laid flat. Daffonil paused to examine the tracks. Something big, with paws not unlike a bear but larger with longer claws passed here recently. Those were the claws of a predator. The disturbance looked as if there were a scuffle. She found a webbing pouch containing the remains of some animal strung in the tree. Arachnidia once lived here. They were one of the forest’s more nefarious inhabitants, temperamental man-sized spider creatures with rudimentary intelligence and wicked cunning. A few paces away she spotted one of the gray, furry, eight-legged beasts dead. Its legs were torn from its body as if plucked free.
“Horrible. What has the ability to do that?” She mumbled as she studied the creature’s wounds. It was both scratched and bitten in addition to having all eight legs torn from its body. The wounds were terrible. “This was more of a torture than an attack. Whatever did this could have easily killed the poor creature long before it did. It did not eat the spider, either. That was odd. Animals do not normally torture their prey for sport.”
Daffonil scouted the area more closely. What she discovered troubled her further. The paw prints moved stealthily, with almost no disturbance to the flora despite the beast’s obvious size. It was a predator for certain, able to take the arachnidia by surprise. That was not the worst of it, though. She spotted other tracks that crossed this sight, slender hooved tracks. Her heart leapt into her throat. The new tracks seemed to take up a hunt for the clawed murderer.
“No, that is not good. Whatever this evil that invades our forest, it is dangerous. I can feel it.” She recalled her vision, the huge dark shape moving through the trees. That shape did not make sense, but it spurred a feeling of fear in her.
She set about whispering prayers and righting the torn saplings. Using her druidic magic, the elf was able to repair and replant many of the trees quickly. She whispered a blessing of protection for herself as she took up the trail of the beast. Fear filled her guts. Her sickle came free of its case and remained in hand. As she followed the trail it wound its way as if on a hunt. The elders would scold her for this, too, no doubt. They considered her overly impulsive as well. But what could she do? The trail was fresh, and her aid might be necessary. Caution was not always possible. She came across several other corpses, animals and creatures of the forest brutally slaughtered by this unknown beast. The more she witnessed its passing, the more she grew anxious. A mangled boar, a dead jaguar and decapitated giant snake all fell into its path. The destruction was both impressive and frightening. These were the natural predators of the land, and all fell to it.
She examined each creature in turn. All were tortured and slain in that order. None were eaten. Strangely, she found no sign of the beast’s blood anywhere. “How has it not suffered serious injury? Any of these beasts could cause much harm.” The elven woman could tell by the tracks that this murder beast was not too far ahead of her. When would she find Starmane?
As if in answer to her unspoken prayers she came upon the sight of another battle. This one seemed far worse than the others. Blood splattered the trees, both the standing and the toppled ones. This now held the feel of a small clearing. Time had passed but not enough for the blood to grow cold. Daffonil surveyed the area in utter shock and disgust. Her heart leapt to her throat when she spotted the large white body bathed in its own blood.
“By The Green, no! Starmane!” She cried out as she rushed to the panting unicorn’s side. “No, you will be fine. Let me tend you.” The nature priestess began whispering prayers, calling on the forces of nature to heal the terrible wounds. The unicorn seemed to be losing far more life force than her prayers were able to repair.
Starmane lifted his regal head to greet her. His spiraled horn dripped with thick, dark blood. “Guardian Daffonil, you came.” He panted and tried to sit upright but his many wounds poured forth more blood for the effort. How could there be so much blood? He spoke in the language of the forest, the language of the fey realm.
“Relax, stay as you are. Let me tend to you. You’ve lost too much blood, my friend.” The elf wiped at tears forming in her large, almond-shaped eyes. “What happened here? What is this beast that ravages our forest?” She prayed hard to repair his wounds, but her efforts were failing. The damage was extensive. Huge claw marks raked down Starmane’s entire body in a crisscrossed pattern. His skin was all but falling away from his exposed ribs.
The unicorn took another ragged breath as it choked. Blood began to pour from its mouth. “I injured it…” His starry blue eyes seemed to gloss over as he spoke. “It is evil… must be stopped… take this… a gift…”
“Starmane, please, save your strength. The others are coming. Their prayers can save you. Let mine keep you breathing until then.” The unicorn laid its head down in her lap and released a deep, final breath and he was gone. It happened so fast she did not know how to respond. This could not be true. Starmane was a protector of the forest for a century or more. Daffonil called on another prayer of healing, but her limited powers were taxed. Her prayer went unanswered. Sweat beaded her forehead as she tried to use more mundane skills to mend the creature, but he was well past her feeble ability. She hugged his soft neck and sobbed. “You can’t go, Starmane, you can’t…” The unicorn’s horn began to glow a faint blue and his entire body melted away into a mote of stars then nothingness, leaving only his blood-stained horn behind. The elf druid placed her hands on the earth where the protector of the forest once rested. She could feel his life force, his magical essence, seeping back into the land. “And so, the cycle is complete,” she whispered the prayer softly and wiped away another rolling tear. The horn did not dissipate. In fact, it pulsed again with an inner light. Daffonil stared at the horn in disbelief. She collected it and wiped away the foul-smelling blood. She pressed the spiral to her breast and then kissed it. “I promise to avenge you, my friend. I will honor your sacrifice and drive this threat away.”
Crawling to her feet she made a weak effort to repair the plants in the area. Her prayer magic was exhausted trying to heal her friend. She remained unable to focus. Her mind was gone, lost to distraction and mourning. Daffonil felt a sense of helplessness. The unicorn had been a close friend since she arrived in this pod. He often aided the guardians and the dryad that protected this forest. Starmane was no more, returned to the earth. The fact that he gifted her his horn was a clear sign. He wanted her to use it to slay the beast that did this. His horn hurt it. A unicorn horn was a powerful weapon of goodly magic. The elf studied the tracks and followed them. She knew she should wait for the others. The other guardians and druids were more experienced, more capable, but Starmane had made the request of her. She would seek revenge for his untimely death. In a haze of shock and anger, she picked her way along the trail of the beast. It wound through the forest, stirring up a cluster of more arachnidia and slew another boar. The boar had its tusks ripped from its face only to be tossed aside. It ate a few chunks from that one. This path carried her to the edges of the forest, the trails used by humans and other travelers. The druids avoided this area on purpose, but she could not simply let it slip away to spread endless destruction. Even humans did not deserve such a fate. The sun dipped low. She had no idea if she would catch it before it exited the forest’s edge, but she prayed she would, for Starmane and for the departed souls of all that fell in its path. During her tracking efforts, Daffonil came across two battle sights where the flushed arachnidia had attempted to claim human victims. The entire cluster was dead and two human corpses were strung along the way. Such a trail of wasted life pained her. Life and its cycle were sacred things to her order. She paused to deliver prayers over each and every body, arachnidia and human alike. She prayed that their energies would return to the cycle. This path of death left her sad and drained. Night washed over her, and she hardly noticed, she was so lost to the hunt.
“Why does the beast not attack here? It is as if it enjoys watching the suffering, be it animal or other? It watched as these creatures slew one another. Such sadistic cruelty cannot be accepted. It disrupts the natural balance, the order of the land. It is definite evil. Where did it come from and why is it here to plague us?” She mumbled her words numbly to herself. There was no one else present to answer those questions.
Daffonil continued to track the beast though it proved challenging. She realized something quite disturbing. Its path moved alongside the man-made trail, slowly and steadily. It was stalking these people now, these poor humans. Whoever survived that conflict was still in danger. Her face flushed with anger. She also noted that it moved from two legs to four and back again. That was an unusual trait, as well. This was no mindless beast. It possessed cunning and intelligence. It displayed cruelty and tactics. What was this demon and where did it come from?
“What does it have in mind? Why has it come to our forest? What does it want?” Daffonil sighed heavily. The same thoughts plagued her mind repeatedly. “Regardless of the answer to those questions it has forfeited its right to life in its repeated displays of wanton and meaningless destruction. As a guardian of the forest, it is my duty to put an end to this beast once and for all to maintain the balance.”
She raised Starmane’s horn and felt its power in her hand. She kissed the horn and prayed to the Gods and Goddesses of The Green to guide her forward. Daffonil could not ignore the fear though. Whatever this beast was it proved to be a powerful adversary. To slay wild boars and arachnidia was one thing, but to slay a unicorn was something else entirely. She hoped the other druids and guardians would join her soon.