Darkness. That was the only way to describe it.
He could barely see his hand in front of himself, if it even was his hand. One wrong turn in here and he would be lost forever. Lucky for him, he knew exactly where he was going.
The warrior hadn't spoken to Myrrh since the war. He doubted that she would even recognize him. He'd grown so much since, it was scary. The stubble he once had became a full-grown goatee and his short hair was now shaved in a buzz cut. His arms were not rippling in the least, but it was obvious that he had been working hard. Most importantly, the subtle look of naivety in his eyes was forever replaced by the hardened face of one who had seen death in motion.
He raced through the wood, slicing any branches in his way. The trees obstructed the night sky, as if an impossibly large shadow was being cast about. Any sane person would not be here unless they knew full well what might happen. Unfortunately, he had to take the risk.
Looking back, the man could have not gone. Heaven knows that his father would've wanted him to stay. His father tried, day after day, dusk till dawn, to convince him. There could be a different way, he would say. The young man didn't need to risk his life in Darkling Woods. Maybe it would sort itself out, his dad would tell him, although they both knew that it would never happen. Ever since the war, they have tried to settle, to live a normal life. When the rumors started, the father didn't believe them. Even after numerous accounts were told and physical evidence produced, he still denied their existence. It wasn't until last week, when their small town of Ide had been attacked again, that he admitted what they both had already known; the creatures were back.
As the young warrior pondered the great problem before him, he suddenly stopped. He hadn't been here in six years, although it still burned in his mind. This was the clearing. He fixed his axe into a nearby stump and walked in.
The clearing was a pillar of light in the darkness. Other than a few yellow leaves, the ground was completely bare, nothing but hard-packed dirt. It was a perfect circle, as if a ray of sun had scorched a perfect mark in the woods. The clearing was lit in a glowing light. He looked up into the forest canopy where a circle of moonlight illuminated him. This was where the Manakete girl resided.
"Myrrh," He called out, softly at first. "Myrrh, I need your help. Something's happening in Magvel." He hoped that she would remember him. He couldn't let what was happening come to pass.
"Myrrh… I think the Demon King is returning."
A flutter of wings interrupted the silence of Darkling Woods. The man spun to see a dark figure in the wood. He reached to his belt for the hatchet, which he immediately realized was sitting in a tree stump, which just so happened to be next to the shadowy figure. The black shape pulled out his weapon, looked over it for a second, and tossed it at his feet.
"You should not leave your weapon unattended," warned Myrrh, "Not in these dangerous times."
As much as he had grown, it was nothing compared to her. Her hair was a deep velvet, her locks tied back in a ponytail. She was in a knee-length, scarlet dress, with leather sandals tied around her thighs. She had grown at least a foot, her sea-green dragon wings at least two. Her face had a hint of worry, as if she knew how, when, and where you would die.
She gave the boy a timid smile. "Nice to see you again, Ross."
Ross picked up his hatchet and sauntered over to her. He grasped her warm hand and looked up into her tentative eyes. "It's nice to see you too, Myrrh."
She took his hand out of hers and set her palm on his shoulder. "I have sensed the monsters, as well," she said grudgingly. "They are slowly advancing again. I am unsure of where, but it is not far from here."
"Is it…" He looked around warily. "Formortiis?"
Myrrh followed suit, quickly scanning the dark horizon. "It is doubtful. I sense a dark presence controlling the creatures, but not like the Demon King. This is…-"
Myrrh was cut off short by a nearly silent rustling. Ross slung out his axe and Myrrh tensed when, suddenly, a squirrel scampered out of the woods into the clearing. They both relaxed and the squirrel ran out just as quickly as it had entered.
Myrrh leaned closer and whispered, "It is not safe to talk here. We need to meet with the others. How fast can you gather them?"
"It will take some time," he admitted, "but it will be possible. Where shall we meet?"
A screech in the night made them jump.
"I do not yet know," she acknowledged. "I will send word when I have decided. Now, go. There may not be much time."
Ross nodded and walked to the edge of the clearing. He turned and saw Myrrh in the middle, her eyelids sealed shut and her wings outspread.
He turned and ran into the wood.