We emerged in the Perellian Forest; it’s so unlike the Rivellan Wood where thin pines yielded thick carpets of layered needles. The trees in Yarit climbed skyward, their thick and gnarled trunks blotting out most of the sun’s rays. The scent of sap and swirling leaves suffused the air. Strange bird calls soared from the forest’s canopy.
Wes and his horse strolled forward. His unnerving eyes assessed the foreign landscape. Kept in the dark on his goals for this particular mission, I wondered if it aligned with mine, or deviated into something else entirely.
“Have you ever seen someone drained of their magic?” he hissed.
“Not recently.” I refused to make eye contact with him, though I could feel his stare groping me. I clutched my reins, ice crusting the leather straps.
“It’s mesmerizing. They tie you down, and suppress your magic. Then they inject you with a poison that literally cleaves your affinity from you. Did you know magic has a smell?” Hebreathed in deeply. Gods, he was horrifying. “It smells like damp moss and sugary syrup. Or that’s the smell of the poison,” he whispered in my direction.
I glared at him, refusing to respond.
He laughed, licking his lips. “Some people seize, some of them scream. Magic is always tied to blood you know. It’s supposed to feel like a fire boiling through you as it rips the magic from your essence. Leaves the veins bloated and rotting.” A small moan escaped him, like he yearned to watch another draining.
“Good to know,” I deadpanned, attempting to quell this one-sided conversation. My mouth turned dry, lingering dread planting itself in my stomach. I veered my horse away and, gratefully, Wes continued in his own direction until he disappeared into the mystical wood. If I didn’t see him again, I might throw a party. I encouraged my horse to speed up, wanting to leave all talk of the draining, and the way Wes seemed erotically stimulated by it, far behind me.
A violent shudder wracked my body as I forced myself to think through bits of information about Yarit, while taking note of the sun as I sought a general trajectory north toward the city of Lyrae. I recalled geographical locations: the coast of the Zephyrus Sea to the east, the Auren Mountains in the west. The Perellian Forest in all its magical finery would extend toward the capital, ceasing at the edge of a meadow. It eventually led to the famed canals slicing through the city of Lyrae.
I made a mental list of tasks necessary for success in this final mission, the weight of it settling on my tense shoulders. I pulled a cherry candy out of my satchel, unwrapping the small treat in hopes to quell my unease.
My musings were interrupted by a low rumbling sound. Searching for the source, I noted trembling leaves below and swaying branches above. The earth shifted beneath us and myhorse stumbled, both of us grunting. I jumped off the saddle crouching low to the ground, keeping hold of my horse’s reins with one hand while covering my head with the other. A jagged, thunderous sound swelled around me.
Rocks jutted out of the forest floor spewing clouds of clotted dirt. Tree trunks surrendered their sturdy resting places, gliding across the earth to newfound plots. Leaves peppered the ground in an array of colors. The land shuddered once more before ceasing its erratic movements.
I slowly straightened, relinquishing my protective stance. My eyes widened as I surveyed my surroundings. The landscape was… utterly changed. The path I had been riding had disappeared. New trees created a new skyline. Was this what happened in the Rivellan Wood? I had never been present when the earthquakes had actually occurred. Slowly, my disorientation and erratic heartbeat lessened.
The common sounds of the forest resumed: a symphony of rustling leaves, bird calls, and insect chirps. I waited several minutes before continuing to walk alongside my horse. I was hesitant to mount her again in the event another earthquake erupted. I double-checked that all my weapons were secured, patting myself down.
I scanned the area, vigilant to any suspicious movement as I continued my trek through the woods, steadily relaxing with each movement forward.
As the sun lowered in the sky, and I was still no closer to finding my way out of this forest, a whimper broke through the woodland noise, my pulse spiking once more. A soft sniffle raised the hairs on my arms; a muffled cry followed. I deviated from my path, steps cautious, to seek the source of the distress, my instincts kicking in. I paused, listening intently.Please help me find you.
Pivoting toward the sound of a snapping twig, I carefully tread on leaves of every color—green, red, purple, yellow, orange, pink. I didn’t want to spook whoever was there.
A mop of curly hair interrupted the backdrop of twisting tree trunks. A young girl sat against a tree, her slender shoulders slumped over, while her tears silently dripped into her skirts. She looked around twelve years old. Several trees appeared to surround her, almost protectively. Ivy grew between the trunks creating a covering over her head, shading her. I stilled, observing the peculiarity.
“Are you okay?” I tentatively ventured. I softened my voice to appear nonthreatening, despite the rows of weapons secured to my waist and thigh.
She jerked her head upright and sank back further against the tree as if to melt into it. Her hands fisted with detritus.
“I won’t hurt you. I just want to see if you’re alright. I could hear you from over there.” I absently gestured to wherever “over there” was, and gingerly stepped forward. She twitched like a sparrow, ready to bolt at the slightest movement. Something about her reminded me of Delah when she was a young girl. Perhaps the resolve in her shoulders, or the way she steeled her face to mask any fear. Really, I never interacted with other young girls, so maybe it was just her age and seeming innocence.
She assessed me as her throat swallowed some of her trepidation. “Who are you?” Her voice was much stronger than I expected.
“My name is Rue. Do you have a parent or a friend nearby? Are you lost?”
“I messed up.” Her eyes darted around as she bit her lower lip in worry. Returning her gaze to me, she said, “But I’ll be fine, they’re almost here.”
“Your parents? They are coming?”
“You aren’t from Lyrae are you?” Her face morphed into one of perplexed interest. Absently, I noted her aversion to my questions.
Caution laced my response. “I recently arrived in Yarit. Can I help you back to your home?” I didn’t exactly have a keen sense of direction myself, but I could protect her as we found our way out of here. Why had she been left alone? I continued scanning the environment for threats.
A rustling in the brush had the hairs on the back of my neck standing. I quickly moved to shield the young girl. I deftly unsheathed my sword, my senses sharpening for a scent, a sound, a movement. My affinity throbbed beneath my skin, awaiting my command.
A shuddering tree lurched toward me. I ducked and swung my sword in the direction of the limbs careening my way. A dryad. Aviciousdryad. Its limbs sharpened into spears as it barreled in my direction. I leapt out of the way, drawing it away from the young girl.
I needed to distract it. But how could I defeat a nymph? It was incredibly fast, and more agile than I could have anticipated. I quickly sifted through the little knowledge I’d obtained regarding tree nymphs. They often turned angry when someone trespassed in their space. Well, that was obvious, and not currently helpful.
