Sentry of the Misty Forest
Slowly the sun rose from the distant sea of green and blue, its beams of light lifting the dark veil over the dreamy, dreary forest. The warm touch from the sea caressed the chilly face of the earth, leaving behind a veil of fog over the dense mountain woods, where stunted woods cautiously peeked out from the cover like reefs in dark, treacherous water. Not all these woody shoals were made by nature, however. Among the treetops stood a small tower, its shell of brick and mortar long since shrouded by large, verdant leaves of creeping vines and moss. At the tip of the tower, rhythmed wind poured from the large windows leading into the darkness filling the long fall to the bowels of the earth, as if it was the nostrils of a beast slumbering deep beneath the carpet of green and brown. Smaller windows accompanied the small stretch between the two large openings, with faint, flickering light pouring out, melting into the fading darkness of the night.
She remembered reading fairy tales like this: a damsel in distress, trapped at the top of a lonely tower. Her eyes glanced out from the small, secluded room, casting her mind into the boundless wilderness. Those stories always ended with a dashing hero, a knight in shining armor defeating the evil dragon guarding the tower and freeing the princess to live happily ever after. Perhaps every girl once had a dream like this, or perhaps that was what people wanted them to have. She had forgotten what she thought of back then, but now as she waited inside this comfortable shelter from the outside, she felt herself more like the dragon than the damsel.
A pair of large, rodent-like ears poked out from her hair of gold, listening to the gentle rustle carried around by the drenched wind, mixed with the crackles of the fireplace keeping the inside bright and warm. Just as she was about to lift her hands from her dress, though, something odd slipped into her senses. Her sapphire-tinted eyes glanced aside towards the hatch that leads to the outside world, and her tail snaked aside into the shadow behind her. Then, with another shuffle, she could hear the person from the other side climbing up the ladder before finally pushing the hatch open. From the dark ladderwell emerged a figure covered by a soaked raincoat, the contours beneath hinting at the same ears and tail as hers.
“Welcome back,” she parted her lips, and her tail relaxed before burrowing back beneath the frills of her dress once again. Her hands slipped into one of the small bags wrapped around her corset, before pulling a small metal case no larger than her palm and resting it on the nightstand. As the other person slipped out of the raincoat, her lithe fingers opened the case with ease. There were several rolled up paper arranged neatly inside, bits of dried leaves lingering on the metal case hinting at their content. “Found anything interesting?”
“Found a few non-game trails. Footprints look heavy but no wheel marks, so just some small-timers,” with a similarly smooth skin and soft features, the short hair and deeper voice were about the only things showing the other person to be male. Unlike her, his tanned skin hinted at his outdoor upbringing, while the relatively simple clothes matched his position as one of the many guards inhabiting the vast cloudy forest. He casually tossed the raincoat into the fire, causing sparks of fire to burst around the coat. Though the water soaked into the fabric quickly sizzled, the cloth itself remained intact as the fire purified its filth. “Other than that, just some bushmeat for food. Reckon it won’t fancy a fair lady like you.”
“I’ll have a bite before I leave,” her tone carried a faint hint of disappointment, the humid air exaggerating the boredom lurking inside her heart. Her fingertips pried a rolled, moistened paper from the box and delivered its tip between her lips, her sharpened teeth holding onto it as her hands moved onto the necklace dangling before her chest. A thin chain of brass held an ornate cap in place, attached to a small glass vial. Through the slightly foggy glass, her eyes lingered on the carnelian liquid within, suspending motes of sparkly dust like stars on a cloudy night.
With a few sloughs, she returned the vial to an upright position, before gently unscrewing it from the cap. Holding the opened vial aside with one hand, her other hand turned the cap towards her, where the drenched dusts glittered under the warm fiery light. As she lowered her head, the drenched tip of the rolled leaves slipped into the cap, allowing her to whisper to it:
“Polkyo.”
The motes woke up at her command, transforming into brief, bright specks as tiny tongues of fire erupted from the cap, scorching the paper before the heat dissipated into the warmth, erasing any traces of their existence. All was as she planned except one – the drenched roll held between her lips remained unaffected by the flame. Her mind quickly put the blame on the dense fog that seemed to permeate all of existence under the brightening sky.
“Hey, try this,” before she could repeat the ritual, the man interrupted her with a small gadget in his hand. It was something she had seen before, with the small, vermilion gemstone encrusted within the fine mechanism betraying its nature as a marriage between magic and technology. With that, she returned the cleansed cap to the vial, and turned her head to point the rolled leaves towards the device.
His fingertip pressed against the trigger, and the mechanism twisted around the gemstone, creating a clean cling. Its faint golden glow was quickly outshone by the carmine flame extruding from the tool. This invoked flame lasted long enough to purge the final droplets of moisture buried within the paper, igniting its tip in a puff of smoke. She quickly took a deep breath to invite the pleasant scent into her body. As the herb worked its magic, she could feel the encroaching dullness melting away inside her warming body, her vision brightened as the silvery reflection in her azure eyes sank into the widening pupils.
“Smells like good stuff,” the man remarked as he rested the lighter back into his pocket. She nodded.
“Mind if I try one?” she nodded again before turning towards outside. The smoke mixed with her foggy breath as her puff melted into the calm morning air. She turned her head back to see the man holding the rolled leaves between his lips, close enough for the two rolls to caress each other’s end, passing the smoldering flame to him in the process. Just like her, he took a deep breath to enjoy something that was a rare luxury for someone like him. With the tiredness carried away by the incense, the tensed body relaxed themselves, and she tucked herself to one side of the bed for him to sit by her, flanking the window as the two let the wind carry away the magic smoke.
“So…” with another breath, he broke the silence, “was that magic? The thing in the vial.”
“Just a convenient concoction I made back in school,” her fingers toyed with her necklace casually, unsettling the sparks embalmed by the liquid. “Always good to have something like this to fall back on. Useful when you need to warm yourself up in a hurry too.”
“You made it?” his eyes widened – although it was not obvious due to the herbal infusion, “does that mean you wanted that prim and proper tone for it too?”
“It adds to the mystique of commanding the very forces of nature,” a smile emerged on her pale face, “and I know some mixtures respond differently to different tones as well.”
“Maybe you’ll get to see it one day,” she took another breath of the burning leaves, their fragrance soothing her mind, “you know, for someone with a magical device, you sure like to learn about the basics of magic.”
“Oh, this?” He reached into his pocket and took out the gadget once again. Her tail once again sneaked out from beneath her dress, this time rising towards him and taking the lighter. The tapered tail caressed its surface gently as she examined its intricate craftsmanship, the curves of the brass contrasting the geometric gemstone nicely, making it as much of a piece of art as it was a tool.
“I got it at a port up north. The fog’s even worse there,” his hand gestured to the outside, towards nowhere in particular. “This baby helped me a lot. Couldn’t make any fire without it.”
“I can see it being useful,” her fingertip slid across the warmed metal shaft, while in her mind she made a mental note of fortifying her vial of fire later, “you must’ve saved a long time for it. Devices like this don’t come cheap.”
“In a way…” he let out a small chuckle, one that caught her attention before it dived into the smoke again. “There, when a young lad like me’s stuck with nothing to their name, venturing out in the sea sounds like a good idea.”
“One successful haul and you’re set for the year. You just need to survive it,” she had heard of that place, a free port at the mouth of the great river that was home to sailors and pirates alike. She thought about visiting it someday even if she was not sure about being trapped on a boat with others for months at a time.
“Spent most of my pay before coming back, but I still got some nice toys from then,” he gestured to the lighter still in her tail, before his own tail reached into another pocket. This time, the device he took out was a cylinder, its ends capped by the smooth curves of transparent crystal. His hand held onto one end, and with a simple pull, the looking glass extended into a full spyglass.
“Some of them quite useful too,” he remarked as his tail held the spyglass to his face, giving him a view of the distant misty woods while he enjoyed another puff of the smoke.
“It sounds like you would rather continue that lifestyle,” the sapphire eyes looked at the excited man and remarked. At least, that was what she would have chosen in his stead.
“Yeah, no, had a few close calls. It’s probably a sign that I should stop. Besides, nothing beats spending your later years protecting your home, right?” his words were beginning to trail off, but his ears stiffened suddenly, and the eye looking through the crystal narrowed as well. “Speak of the devil…”
“What did you see?”
“One torch and a few tailless shadows… I think I know that trail,” he murmured to himself, “no more than a dozen, and nothing heavy.”
“So just some poachers?” Her ears softened a bit, and her eyes lingered on the metal case once again. Part of her was hoping to see a knight in shining armor out of those fairy tales.
“Sure, let’s call them that. Hey,” perhaps noticing her reaction, he called her with a smile and a question, “you think you can get them from here?”
“Maybe,” her tail returned the gadget to him while her eyes looked through the fog. It was as dense as before, but the brightened view allowed her a glimpse of what he saw through the crystal. A weak, wavering dot of light and warmth among the watery fog and cold trees. She could barely make out the faint silhouette of the tailless beasts around it, relying on the trembling flame to light their way.
She adjusted her posture as her tail returned, coiling around her parasol adorned with rings of laces. Once she held onto the crook at the end, her hands rested it on the frame as her body leaned against it, as if she was a hunter, trailing her long gun at her prey. She took one final breath of the magic smoke, her hands and tail steadying the parasol against the warm mote. Her gaze pierced through the drenched air, her fingertips nudging the parasol until its tip aligned with the indiscrete target perfectly.
Had it been a real gun, all it took would be a gentle caress of her fingertip to extinguish the dot. To condemn those on the other end to the encroaching darkness, and the dread of being unwanted by the dark woods.
That was not going to happen, though. It was just a parasol, after all. The heat from the rolled paper, already consumed fully by the smoldering ember, broke her trance. The painful sensation forced her to grasp for the cold, wet air, and the umbrella slipped from her body onto the bed.
“… I would need a proper gun,” upon noticing his gaze on her act, the pale skin reddened, and her tail hastily ushered the parasol to her side.
“I could grab one from the armory below if you want.”
“You don’t have to,” she shook her head as she stood up from the bed. The cape wrapped around her upper torso fell from her movement, covering most of her dress beneath. Then, with a wave, the cape flowed once again, letting her brandish the myriad of vials strapped onto her corset, each with a different color.
“I prefer to get close and personal anyway,” she grinned.
The weak sunlight diffused through the thick fog and melted among the looming trees around, barely illuminating the winding trails ahead. Every step of the boots crushed the drenched detritus against the wet soil, and the wavering torch crackled as it burned through the moisture in the air. The still air weighed heavily on the people walking through the woods, forcing them to maintain a steady breathing to support their baggage. It was a hard life, but with any luck they would soon be rewarded.
“There, chief!” one of the men cried as he pointed forward, towards a small clearing with scattered woods. Looming between the fog and the dark canopy was a stout tree, its leaves concealed by numerous small flowers adorned by vigorous crimson petals. Beneath the umbrella shade of the tree, the dew-soaked ground nurtured a myriad of shrubs and grass, while the other trees stayed their distance. For others, it might just be another picture of this lush forest, but for these experienced eyes, it was a sign of something valuable, hidden in plain sight.
“What’s that, dad?” following the several men, a young boy asked as he cautiously approach the clearing, clutching the torch close to his chest.
“Red flowering dogwood. You’ll do well to keep that in mind,” the burly man besides him responded to his call. Leading him closer to the thicket beneath the red blossoms, the man squatted down and examined the waxy bushes closely. “This cherry beauty’s more delicate than other dogwood trees, so they only grow in groves where the soil’s not as wet.”
“Tell me, boy. Do you see other trees like this lady around?” the man asked. The boy looked around but all he could see were viridian trees flanked by wavering shadows through the pale mist. He shook his head to the smiling man. “Exactly. For her to grow alone here means the soil beneath has been improved. The other signs check out too.”
“Improved?” The boy could not see any signs of people working on the soil around. It looked as if they were its first visitors in eons. “By who?”
“The spirit of the forest, of course.”
“Start digging, y’all lazy bones!” he called to the other men jovially, and the heavy bags on their back fell to the ground one by one. They took from their stockpile of tools shovels, machetes and axes, all tools meant to clear the dense vegetation around them.
“What about the tree?” The boy, curious, raised his hand to the red tree and rested it on its scaly trunk.
“It’s good timber but we can’t carry the whole tree. We got to travel light, remember?” his father answered as he stroked his mustache. “But we can still shave some bark off her. It makes for a good medicine tea.”
“Now go keep watch, won’t you?” He patted his back and sent him away from the red shade looming above them, the torch crackling as it cut through the fog around. With that, the man laid down his luggage as well and unsheathed his machete.
“Alright, time to work…” with their goal clear, they raised their blades and spades into the air, ready to drive the metal into the green and the brown. As their arms were about to tense up, though, a small whisper convinced them to reconsider, as they raised their head instead and looked towards the flickering light to the edge of the small clearing.
“Who are you, pretty sister?” The boy asked the shadow, and the shadow answered with a smile, followed by the sound of crushed leaves and twigs.
The one who walked into the sight of the men was a strange one. From a casual glance, she looked like a young girl, no taller than the boy holding the torch, but the long, thick tail snaking behind her betrayed her nature as something different. Something not to be trusted. Her garments fuel the discordant aura further, with an elegant black dress adorned with crimson red frills and laces more fitting for a ball gown than the primeval forest enveloping this isolated corner of the world.
As if to exaggerate the otherworldly impression further, one of her hands carried a lacy parasol of black and red, protecting her from the faint, clouded sunlight, while her other hand held a small, smoldering roll of paper between the gloved fingers. A tight corset wrapped around her waist, decorating her silhouette with pouches and vials of colorful liquids. Above it, the rose-adorned collar and plumaged bonnet embellished the smiling face and the sapphire eyes looking at the stunned humans.
“Just a passer-by, taking a stroll in the lovely morning,” she whispered to the smitten boy as she approached him. “How about you?”
“Come back, boy,” the machete-wielding man called, the familiar voice of his father breaking the brief trance as he returned to his side. He patted his back and whispered something in his ear. He took the burning flame from him, before turning once again to face the intruder. “Us? Just some woodsmen making an honest living, ma’am.”
“Is that so?” the girl looked on as the boy was shooed away to the small pile of luggage by the side, his movement obscured by the alarmed men forming a perimeter against her. “Why don’t you tell me more about yourself? It’s rare to see someone like you around here, after all.”
“Hey, humans live in your land too, you know,” the man wiped the moisture off his face, “we’re from… yes, Tahilphul. From up north.”
“Oh, what a coincidence! I’m from T’ahilqphyl too,” she licked her lips while the man swore beneath his breath.
“I don’t remember seeing you around too…” she pondered loudly as the high-heeled boots continued to draw close, forcing the men to hold their tools closer to them. She took a breath from the burning paper, before letting out a small cloud of fog. It seemed to have given her a moment of clarity as she gave her palm a playful punch. “Oh, perhaps you’re with the farmers by the river? I remember they were working to expand their fields~”
“Y-yes, we’re with them. We’re hoping the spirits of the forest would allow us to borrow their blessing,” the mustached man held onto the rope thrown between her words, gesturing to the digging tools his men were holding. At his urging, the men hastily agree to his words too.
“Ah, I see~” the lady in black and red let out a giggle to join their nervous laughter, her smile deepening while her shivering gloves spun the parasol slowly.
“How curious, though,” she took one last breath of her burning herbs, before crushing the smoldering paper in her glove. The smoking ashes slid down the unburned fabric and scattered into the gentle wind. “Since T’ahilphyl is underground and has no rivers in sight~”
“… what do you want?” the realization struck the men, forcing a gasp out of him as she chuckled. Knowing full well what was going to happen, he steadied himself and asked bluntly. “We can split the profit if that’s what you want.”
“Oh, no, I consider myself above such a sinful trade,” her smile widened into a grin, revealing the rows of sharpened, shark-like teeth between her moist, rouged lips. “That reminds me of a fairy tale, though. One very close to my heart.”
“Once upon a time, there was a small white dove with a red belly, living in the black forest,” she started reciting, to the fearful confusion of the men, who were struck by indecisiveness between attacking and fleeing. “The little bird loved the warm and lush forest above all else, and was saddened by all the sins people commit under its black, dusky veil.”
“‘People have been committing sin since long ago. Why do they commit sins, knowing it’s wrong?’ The small bird wondered,” she took another step, and the sound of branches snapped beneath her heels broke the trance of one of the woodmen. Conjuring all his bravery, he stepped up to her and swung his shovel against her dainty form. Yet, the only thing its sharp edge cut through was the cold morning air around, as all it took was a deft twist of her tiptoeing foot to swing her body out of harm’s way. To the attacker’s disbelief, the well-dressed girl twirled before his eyes like a seasoned dancer, her dress blooming like a thorned rose as she pointed her black parasol towards the foreman and his light.
“‘It must be because there’s no one to punish people for their misdeeds!’ The little bird realizes, ‘if someone takes that role, then no foul act would happen in this world ever again!’” her proclamation was enough to freeze even the morning breeze.
“Stosmisiha, telepkair t’eo!” “O warmth of the loving sun, abandon those who have tainted thee with sin!”
By her command, the slumbering power woke up once again. An icy fog freed itself from the tip of the parasol, blossoming into a pale flower as a bolt of cold light struck straight and true against the lone torch, its light snuffed out by the encroaching frost. The deathly chill forced the man to drop the firewood to the damp ground, and its lingering light dissipated into the filtered sunlight. Standing beneath a smear of its glow, the lady in black and red raised her white parasol, the grin on her face widened like a starving predator ready to feast.
The serene silence of the misty forest was broken by the cacophony of strife. Men shouted in anger and panic as metal clashed against each other. Morning wind thickened the fog within the arena, surrounded by wavering shadows among the dark woods. Huddled behind the pile of backpacks and tools was a frightened young boy, his head barely peeking out to witness the skirmish unfolding before his eyes. On one side was his father and his friends, his family who had just ordered him to hide here, both to protect himself and to fetch the one thing that might save them. On the other side was the strange, tailed lady in an opulent dress of black and red. Even though he knew she was dangerous – his father told him so – he could not help but be bewitched by someone who seemingly just walked out of a picture book.
“Buzz off!” One of the men screamed, swinging his axe against the petit silhouette, only for it to shrink beneath the arc of the blade. Her folded parasol parried the impromptu weapon aside, and her gloved hand pulled a vial from her corset. Her thumb flicked opened its cap, and a simple swing was enough to spill the liquid within onto him, leaving a turquoise smear across his chest and face. It was bitter and itchy, but not enough to distract him.
“Slippery little –” he twisted his arm against the inertia of the axe, trying to bring its heavy strike back against the crouching enemy as her tail coiled beneath her. Then, like a spring let free, the dark shadow bounced away from the axe as it cleaved through the still-warm air. He lifted his bewildered face upward just in time to see her falling towards the scarlet tree. The thick tail, now extended, reached for one of the branches and wrapped around it, turning her momentum around as it cracked under the pressure. The branch snapped just in time for the grinning face to shoot towards him once more. His sore hand raised the axe one more time, but the stilted movement was no match for the tail leaping towards him. With a simple hook, the light-weight girl managed to lift him off the ground for a split second even as his other hand was trying to grab her.
“Nen nolyo!”
“You buzz off!”
Before he could react, he was blinded by an outpour of sea-green light, and he felt the soft tuck turning into a heavy, invisible blow against the unassuming smear on him. The snaking tail twirled briefly before letting go of the man, guiding the momentum upward as the man was uprooted and thrown into the air like a rag doll. The loud thud and crack from his heavy landing were more than enough to implicate the unnatural force he suffered, all the while the girl flipped herself back on her boots, spreading her parasol to shield her from the red leaves raining down from the red tree.
She was beautiful. Beautiful and horrible. The boy thought. Then, he saw her glancing in his direction, the blue eyes narrowing as he felt her gaze piercing through his body and mind. Was she going to go after him? Was she going to kill him?
A loud, familiar cry broke both of them out of the crossing gazes. The foreman screamed as he swung his machete against her. Obviously, the agile attacker slipped away from the blade with ease, but it was enough to take her eyes off him, and the father’s call was enough to put him back on his task, one that felt much more vital now.
“Look! We get it! We’ll leave now!” He exclaimed as he fell back a few steps, catching his breath from the reckless attack.
“Indeed~ I can already see you packing up and returning to your hole for the day,” answered the girl nonchalantly as her gloved hands toyed with her parasol, sliding its handle gently to reveal a tiny, frosted compartment. “So that you’re well-rested for your harvest tomorrow, with hopes that I will no longer be here.”
“Wh –”
“I’ve learned that when threatened with enough pain, people will say anything to make it stop,” the gloved fingers reached into her pouch, “even if it has no bearing on their actual actions.”
“To truly teach a lesson, I’ll have to speak to your body, your very existence,” she licked her lips as she shut the filled compartment.
“You’ll learn not to trespass when every aching bone within you scream against that idea at your every waking moment.”
“What’s wrong with you!?” The voice of a woman cried out from behind her, her hands slamming a shovel down against her bonnet. Without flinching, her gloved hand retracted the parasol once again, before another hand swung it behind her, blocking the wooden shaft with its shell of metal and fabric.
“Here, let me demonstrate~” the girl brandished her sharpened, shark-like teeth, and the tip of her tail darted upward against the shaking hand. It coiled around the wrist like a venomous snake, and a sudden yank dislodged the spade from the gasping woman. Using her as an anchor, the girl shifted her weight around her foot, her hand drawing a half-circle before landing squarely beneath her bosom. The strong blow was enough to fill her with agony, her body falling back as the tail released her hand.
Without missing a beat, she unfurled her fist and grabbed her now-freed wrist, stopping her fall like a gentle dance partner. Another pull drew them closer, each spinning against each other under the clouded sun beams. The dangerous dance soon concluded with the lady lifting her stocking-clad leg, her high-heel boot slamming against the woman’s face to draw out another scream. This time, no one was there to stop her fall, and she collapsed onto the drenched leaves and twigs. As she forced her eyelids to open, the cold tip of the parasol was already pointing at her blooded nose, the eldritch whisper of her magic swelling within the ringing of her ears.
“Now, boy!”
The man’s howl caused her to look away from her prey, towards the boy hunkered down between the luggage. Fear continued to dominate his expression, his shivering hands clutching a gun way too large and long for him, its barrel pointing straight at her face. Resting right on the sight, he could see her expression finally breaking from the smug grin she was always wearing. Biting his lips, he forced his fingers to squeeze the trigger as hard as he could.
BANG!
Tongues of fire erupted from the barrel, spitting countless balls of lead towards the lady in black. The hot lead cut through the thick fog, pursuing their target as she quickly leaped back, her contours melting into the fog and the shadows of the tree, before they all collided beyond their view. The recoil pushed the boy off the bag and onto the ground, him panting heavily as he looked up towards the featureless gray looming above him. The thunderous echo continued for a few seconds, before the gathering fog finally swallowed them, returning the world into an eerie silence – apart from the painful moans of the men and women, it was as if nothing had ever happened.
“You! Go help them up and tend to their wounds! Everyone else, come and pack up! We’re leaving this god-forsaken place!” The father quickly began barking orders once again, before rushing to the boy and helping him up. Squeezing out a weary smile, he patted his tear-drenched face. “You did well. Time to go home.”
Driven by fear, the men soon reached for the stockpile, carrying those too hurt to walk and whatever tools and supplies they could carry. The boy, meanwhile, reached for his firesteel to bring back the torchlight from before everything went wrong. Yet, no matter how many specks of light he rained down, the damp torch refused to light up.
“It’s no use, boy. The fog’s too dense,” the father said as he helped the young boy up from his seat, his trousers soaked with morning dew. “She knew it too. That’s why she attacked it first.”
“Why does someone so pretty hate us, dad?”
“Hush,” the foreman gestured his child to the smoking gun, before reaching for his machete once again. With bated breath, he walked closer to the edge of the clearing, his shadow almost invisible before him under the weak morning sun. Even with the aroma of petrichor, his nose managed to pick up something, and his blade nudged the disturbed bush by the trees. The transparent dew on the waxy leaves had dripped down onto the soil already, leaving behind only blots of violet smearing onto the metal blade.
They had drawn blood from her.
Despite the seeming victory against such inhuman being, he could not help but feel her gaze still lingering, lurking between the mossy woods beyond the shadowy fog, perhaps licking her wounds and waiting for the moment to ponce once more. The slumbering wind shifted once more, persuading the leaves to waver and whisper, dripping the cold morning dew onto him as his parched throat tried to appeal to her once more time.
“I-I know you’re listening,” his voice melted into the condensing fog. He could see some vaguely humanoid shades in the distance, but he could not decipher their true nature.
“Look, you’ve hurt us, and we’ve hurt you! I swear we’ve learned our lesson! We’ll never come here again!” He waved his machete against the bush, revealing the thin trail of violet blood leading into the woods. The hardened leaves rustled against his blade and the wind, as if the very nature was gossiping beneath their breath.
“We surrender! Can’t you just let us go in peace?” He pleaded once again. Even if he could not see it, he was certain that one of the shadows around was listening to his words. However, as his exhausted voice dissipated into the fog, the only response ringing in his ears were the subdued whispers of the leaves, and the light tapping of water falling onto them. He could only hope the silence came as a tacit agreement, and he turned back towards the hastily assembled convoy beneath the red tree.
But then, the rustling grew louder, and more decipherable.
“Hanoreise sarisiha…”
“O heavenly bolts…”
“No!” He cried instinctively as he turned back towards the woods. Beyond the reach of his dissolved shadow danced multiple amber dots of light, like a necklace made of distant stars. As the whisper grew louder, the specks of light buzzed more audibly as well, as if multiple bugs were flying right beside his ears. His pupils narrowed, and his body leaped aside instinctively, away from the deadly intent embedded in the spell.
“… solyr k’askyo!”
“… rend their flesh asunder!”
The buzzing was drowned out by a deafening thunderclap, breaking the enchanting silence once again as bright light erupted from within the woods. Eldritch force compelled the earthly stars to march forward. Arcs of lightning splashed against the ground, leaving behind winding paths of burned, sizzling detritus, like the claw of an invisible beast carving through the bushes and into the clearing. Despite his quick response, one of the bolts twisted towards his blade and arced through his body. It felt as if he was bathed in blades of flame, their edges reaching through his skin and cutting deep inside him. The overwhelming pain was enough to throw him onto the ground, leaving the muscular man groaning as smokes rose from the branching red marks now etched through his skin.
The pillars of light continued to burn through the ground, their blinding and deafening power scattering the frightened people, powerless to stop the thunderbolts from searing their belongings. It was only after that the last trace of its power was dispersed, shattering the tiny gemstones in the frozen air.
As his ears stopped ringing, the man’s body started mustering all his strength through the pain. He slowly pulled himself back away from the dreary woods, his breathing chaotic as his eyes stared at the shadow strolling forward. Leaving the rest of the shades, he could hear every twig snapping against its approach. Soon, the once tiny silhouette was now looming over his body, every aching bone within him screaming against his will. The pain, the dread, and the lingering flashes melted his vision into smears of shadows, to the point that even with it standing but a few paces before him, all he could see was an ill-defined shadow, still obscure even outside the veil of mist. The only colors invading his sore eyes was the trail of violet liquid dripping from its left side onto the ground, and the straight silvery blade on its right side glittering despite a lack of light.
“I must admit, I didn’t expect to bleed today,” even with his ears still ringing, the feminine voice invading his mind was as clear as ever, his body learning to focus on it above all else. “Very impressive… hehe.”
“It’s only fair that I don’t hold back anymore either~” the whimsical voice sang as the shining blade drew a half-circle besides the shadow, before stopping right in front of her face.
“Please… please stop!” He called out to the shade before him, the cracked voice drowned out by the ringing still lingering in his ears. He narrowed his eyes onto the shadow, her features slowly revealing themselves once again. Her gloved finger pressed against the button on the crooked handle, twisting the complex mechanism within and creating a clean cling. The silvery blade was outshone by the carmine flame extruding alongside the blade, illuminating the wide grin on her violet-tainted face.
“Go get the chief!” A panicked cry motivated the shivering people to draw close to the lady in black and purple, swinging any tool they had in their hand. Even with the injury, though, the diminutive figure retained her agility. A twirl of her ankle led her to dance away from the incoming axe head, the momentum guiding the burning blade right into the arm holding the weapon. The sharp tip cut through the man’s skin like it was butter, its searing metal blending a sizzling noise with his pained scream as he dropped the axe.
She did not linger in that moment, though, as the head of a rusty spade quickly cut between the two, forcing her away from the falling man. With every inch of his muscle straining for survival, even a lean man was able to rain down the shovel in her direction, with her every turn narrowly dodging the blade. But then, her hand weaved the tongue of fire between the undisciplined flurry of blows. It caught the sweat-drenched handle, letting off a puff of smoke as a simple pull drew the spade along the edge, until it was blocked by the mechanical blossom forming its base.
“Nar k’ye.”
“Hide me.”
Her whisper was enough to invoke the power within the hilt, summoning a stream of water that immediately evaporated in the heat of the blade. The burst of sizzling steam ended the strikes, as the scorching gas forced the hand to let go of the shovel. Before he could back away from the encroaching fog, though, the steaming blade pierced though the concealment and slashed across his legs, leaving behind a burn of red and brown as he fell back, his body slamming against the ground just as the foreman mustered enough strength to stand up once again, if barely.
Gambling on a moment of weakness, he raised his machete and cut through the cloud of mist, but the lack of anything stopping the blade in its place already signaled to him his failure. As if to add salt to the injury, he could see the girl in black leaping out of the cloud above him, her body gracefully arcing through the air before landing her hands on his shoulders. His other hand raised up to try to grab her, but like a fly around his ears, the nimble girl simply whirled above him, her nails scratching his skin playfully before holding tight onto his head one last time. Then, with a flip, she took his balance away with her light weight. The heeled boots landed on the ground once again as she bent her legs, her hands drawing just enough force to throw the man up in the air and into the ground several steps away.
With the muted thud, the pain circulating within him woke up once again, making even lifting his upper body a struggle. But then, his agony was compounded by the sensation of a high-heel boot stepping on his chest, pinning him on the ground once again. His eyes widened as the tailed girl stood triumphantly on him, the silvery blade pointing right at his throat. He could feel the hot air emanating from it, and the rows of knifelike teeth beneath the shades of the plumaged bonnet. For a brief moment, there was only the rustling of the trees.
Everyone else must have fallen or fled. The fight had ended. He could only close his eyes and accept whatever fate she dictated.
“Stop… stop it, you meanie!”
The familiar voice broke what little peace he could have. As they turned their head, they saw the young boy stumbling towards them, his teeth clenched and his hands clutched against his gun. He tried to warn him, but his body no longer had the strength to do so, let alone keeping the foot from leaving his body.
“Get away from dad!” The teary eyes struggled to keep the shaking barrels at her torso even as she slowly walked towards her. Her bloodied hand reached onto her corset and flipped her thumb with a gentle pop. The approaching smile forced him to squeak once again, his twitching finger slipping on and off the trigger. Just as he found the grip, the shadow ducked one more time and she whispered something beneath her breath. In a split second, a teal glow lifted her body off her steps, and she threw herself right into him, her sword pushing the gun aside before his weak grip gave up, dropping the last weapon into the drenched grass.
Now standing right before him, the girl giggled and raised her wounded hand. Her thumb drew a violet smear across his face, before raising up further to pour a vial of carnelian liquid onto him. The cold touch and the herbal scent unsettled him, but his shaking legs held strong even as she rested her hands on his shoulders, drawing her face closer to him. Then, she parted her lips.
“D-don’t touch him…” The foreman could only manage a whimper, one that drew her gaze for a brief moment before the smiling face returned to the shivering boy.
“Polkylkei.”
“I shall give you the all-cleansing warmth.”
The specs of dust glowed at her soft command, but instead of an all-consuming flame, it was but a faint glow, a gentle warmth that drained all the pent-up dread and resolve from his body. With the final string melting away in the tender caress, the boy fell to his knees as she walked up to his father. The gloved hand turned the blade once again, its lukewarm tip holding the man’s cheek up towards her face.
“If nothing else, I found the gumption pleasing,” her smile widened and her eyes narrowed, “now leave and never come back.”
“Unless you’re looking for a rematch.”
The noon sun shone brightly above the forest, dissipating most of the fog clinging onto the moist leaves of the trees and bushes. In a small clearing before a tree with fiery red flowers, smokes gently rose from a campfire crackling before the lady in black and red. Sitting on a pile of dried leaves, she carefully wiped the silvery blade clean with an oiled cloth, cleansing all the dirt and grime until the sword returned to its pristine self once again. With a satisfied hum, her tail carried the bare skeleton of her parasol before her. She slid the blade back into its sheath, until a faint click confirmed it had been locked in place. Just as she moved onto her cape, her round ear twitched as she heard the noise of twigs being crushed from afar.
“Welcome back,” the sapphire eyes glanced towards the source of the sound, at the figure covered by a wet raincoat.
“You sure roughed them up,” he let out a small sigh, his breath condensing into a puff of fog before melting into the air. As he walked by her, he rested a filled bag by her side before taking a seat next to the fire.
“They won’t learn their lesson otherwise,” she unbound the cape covering her bandaged left arm and wrapped it around the bare parasol. Once the lacy cloth clicked in place, she unlocked the spring and let the now-complete parasol deploy above her head, giving her a well-timed shelter from the itching sunlight. “So, how are they?”
“They found a caravan downstream. I think they’ll drop them off in Palhalla,” the coated figure answered as he warmed his limbs up.
“I heard you unloaded some heavy spells here,” he sniffed the air before looking around. He could see the rows of burned marks not too far away, leading to a pile of abandoned scraps. “You high-class folks enjoy doing that for fun?”
“Humans are too fragile otherwise. I’m not yet good enough to just hurt them without magic,” she answered nonchalantly, before raising her head to meet his doubting gaze. A puff of mist escaped her lips as she sighed.
“Yes, it’s fun,” she grinned, “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”