| Currently Untitled Chapter II By Willow the Wisp Disclaimers: I own nothing; but the mat board seems to own me. I had many teachers, as I grew older. Each one held mastery in different areas; there was herbology, diplomacy, magick training for each element, as well as the defense against each element. I was taught how to be subtle and cunning, how to find my opponent's weakness and exploit it, and many other areas. One of my teachers was my father. Every day at dusk I would be on the shores of the sacred lake, there I was taught about the astral plane, and how to walk it. It was during these lessons that I used the astral plane to dream-walk and find the other warriors. Then I forged a connection to each of them, this way I would be able to tell if dark forces were near them, and be able to shield what they were from them. This proved beneficial as we each saw fifteen summers. Garren, the demon, had grown strong enough to send stronger hoards of hellhounds to destroy villages in search of us. He also sent out harpies and giant arachnids against the clans of druids. My teacher of herbology had taken me out into a wild field of herbs and mosses for our lesson the day our village has crushed. We came back to find the village burned to the ground, the stench of death rose around us as we looked for any survivors. All we found were severed limbs, and bodies ripped open from sharp talons and teeth. Some had been melted through the volatile acid the arachnids spit. It was more than a slaughter; it was a declaration war. My teacher and I built a funeral pyre for the village, hoping to send the souls of those broken bodies to Elysian Fields. We watched their souls leave in the tendrils of smoke, and prayed for their safe journey. But even that was to be stained. Garren had left a band of monsters to take care of any survivors. A foul cry was the only warning we had before we too were attacked. They emerged as if from the shadows themselves. Beasts of all sorts swarmed into the center of the village, knocking over the pyre and starting a rampage. One of the things that I had been taught was that a retreat may be your only option. This was one of those times. We cloaked ourselves in a simple glamour of illusion, making us invisible to the naked eye. Garren remembered our glamour ability and had sent one of his generals after us, equipped with an amulet that could penetrate the illusion. Riding on a wyrm she overtook us as we were on the outskirts of the village. Her cold laugh echoed as the wyrm ripped my teacher apart screaming. I was not as old as my teacher was, and nimble from training to avoid the claws and grab onto its leathery wing. This seemed to amuse her, and she ordered the wyrm to fly high and fast. I watched the ground speed under me, the force of the flight pushing the bone of the wing into my chest, cracking ribs. I don't know if she realized what I was, otherwise I don't think she would have chosen what should have been my demise. Higher and higher we flew, at a pace so fast it was strenuous to breath. The wyrm then stopped suddenly, and completely, throwing me off into the abyss below. They flew away without a second glance as I spiraled helplessly down. As I could start to make out the trees of a forest, I used a complex spell that I had not yet mastered, one of levitation. I slowed down, but I did not stop descending. Crashing through tree branches I felt for sure that I was going to die, failing in my mission. As the ground approached I closed my eyes, not wanting to see my end approaching, much like a child hides under the blankets to keep the monsters away. It was for that reason that I did not see that I was about to land on something soft. A startled yelp of pain was the only indication that I had not crashed through another tree branch, nor had I hid the ground; I had in fact landed on a person. Worried eyes peered into mine as the blackness claimed me at last. |
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