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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Ire


Degorram

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Wind. Water. Light. She did not hear the storm rage around her, did not feel the rain corse down her face and into her nose. Her eyes half open, she watched the lightning reach up to touch the ground, watched the rain fall upwards to pound into the soles of her feet, which pointed towards the sky.

 

The sound of the storm came back to her in a wave as she gasped for breath. Her arms came down to brace herself, the concentration faltering. She wobbled; her neck ached.

 

"Don't quit now!" a voice shouted at her above the storm. "Don't you dare let go! Don't....." the voice was lost in the roar of thunder. Flashes of lighting blinded her as she blew drops of rainwater from off her nose and out of her eyes. How she longed to rest her feet back on the ground. Her back and stomach muscles were stiff from the exertion of holding her weight directly over her head, of keeping the balance.

 

The waves beneath her whirled, beating themselves frantically against the tall cliff on which she endured. All around her in a circle the statues of elementals lifted their arms to the storm, catching the lightning in their palms.

 

The rain pounded. The lighting pranced. The thunder answered to it's flirtations. She lifted her arms back to their position at her sides. And all went dark.

 

 

"Hey," a soft voice murmurred in her ear. "Ire, wake up."

 

She opened her eyes to see the sky, pink and purple with the dawn. The storm clouds were roiling in the west, galloping through the air to continue their rage elsewhere. The ground beneath her was saturated with their tears.

 

A face came into her vision. He was tan with golden eyes and black and gold hair. Two feathery ears protruded from his locks. The gryphon boy smiled at her gently. "Welcome back."

 

Ire winced and rolled over onto her side. Her entire body ached and she felt like throwing up. She swallowed the bile and put her weight on her elbows, looking around wearily.

 

The gryphon boy, called Greed, sat back and shook his shaggy bangs away from his eyes. "You made it," he said. "All night without stopping. You collapsed just after dawn."

 

"I almost failed," Ire said, voice hoarse. Greed handed her a water bottle and she sipped at it, cooling her throat.

 

"You held on."

 

Ire looked up and saw a man leaning against one of the many cliffside statues. His red eyes and hair flickered like flames. The phoenix man dipped his head to her.

 

"Vengeance," Ire said softly. "You were there, weren't you? I heard you."

 

The phoenix man nodded again. "All night."

 

Ire grinned. "They said I couldn't do it."

 

Greed slapped her shoulder. "No human ever has, you know."

 

Vengeance stepped forward, offering his hand to her. The fire tattoos on his palm undulated in color like his hair. He smiled, pale face twisting to accomodate the expression that it rarely felt. "Congratulations," he said. "Welcome to the elementals."

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"So," the man growled, shifting through the papers on his desk. "I hear you survived your test." He glanced up at them through spectacles.

 

Ire nodded. "I did, sir." Just using the word made her skin crawl, but she would have rather failed her test than seem disrespectful to the oldest dragon kin in the physical world, and one of her most trusted mentors.

 

The man, named Gloom but usually called Gada, leaned back in his chair and scratched his goateed chin. A mane of bright blue feather-like hair fell to his waist. The knobby, curling horns that grew from the top of his head were made of a hard, silver substance. For an ancient one, he looked to be only in his thirties. His skin, both the smooth white of the human and the rough blue of the dragon, was flawless. The tail that curled around a leg of his desk was speckled with tiny scales, and his legs were draconian as well.

 

"And you expect me to let you in, because of this achievement." He leaned forward and scrutinized her. "Why?"

 

Ire didn't flinch. She knew very well that every single student received this question. "I work hard and strive for the freedom of the people," she recited, as was custom. "I have no other reason."

 

Gada smiled understandingly. "Come now, Ire," he said, breaking off his ritualistic stern. "You and I both know that is not the only reason."

 

Ire shifted on her feet uncomfortably. Was this a trick? Everyone in the village knew she wanted something more. When she was just a baby the feudal lord who governed their lands had had her parents murdered for growing extra food for themselves, breaking his strict code. She had been handed over to a different set of farmer who had raised her without love. The man on the hill was responsible for all this.

 

Behind her, Greed coughed purposefully. She felt the hot touch of Vengeance's hand on her shoulder, the warmth giving her strength.

 

"I want to justify the death of my parents," she replied firmly, lifting her chin. "Not only their deaths, but the deaths of countless others over the years. I want their murderer to pay."

 

Gada smiled. "That, Ire, is a good answer." He smacked his palm on a sheet of paper, leaving behind black runes that were tattooed into his hand. "You do realize, however, that those who oppose you joining us will believe that I let you in for....unfortunate reasons."

 

Ire nodded. Unlike her own story which was well known, only few knew that Gada too had suffered at the hands of the feudal lord. His three sons, all outstanding students and high officials of the elementals, had been taken by the lord and thrown carelessly into battle, where they had all died. Worse, their bodies had been desecrated by the enemy and then hidden. Gada had never found them, only receiving many mocking letters that slowly, bit by bit, described in detail what had befallen his sons. Those who knew in village would be the first to assume that Gada had let Ire into the elementals simply because she shared a common interest with the dragon man.

 

"Good," Gada replied. "So long as you know. Now, if you three will leave me, I have more to attend to."

 

The three bowed and left. On their way out it was difficult for Ire to hide her pleasure.

 

"Yeah!" Greed yowled as they stepped into the streets. His feathery-gryphon ears wiggled happily. His own tail, black and gold brindled like his hair, whipped the air.

 

"Calm yourself," Vengeance said. "We have not yet to celebrate. Ire still must stand before the town officials.

 

Ire's spirits dropped. If she was lucky at all they would merely ridicule her for trying, not banash her entirely for breaking the code. "Yeah," she said. "No point in celebrating now."

 

Greed drooped like a flower left in the sun too long. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, kicking at the pebbles in the street. A few unintelligable words escaped his lips in a mumble.

 

Immidiately Ire felt sorry. Greed was so sensitive....how could she have crushed his happiness? With a smile she threw her arm around his shoulders. "Ah, don't be like that," she said. "Listen, you can help me get ready. That way they'll have to let me in, right?"

 

Greed blushed. She had referred to his brilliance at study, one of his weak points. "Oh, stop it," he said, ducking his head. "Yeah, I'll help."

 

Vengeance shrugged his shoulders. "So long as you two are optimistic," he said grumpily. "Personally I think the city council is a bunch of bufoons and cretins."

 

"You're too uptight," Greed said, dancing away with his two friends in his cheerful wake. "After all, it's that bunch of bufoons and cretins that let you in as well!" He scooted away quickly as a tiny fireball blasted near his lion's tail.

 

"Well, you certainly live up to your name, don't you?" Greed called from around a corner. "I'll meet you two at Ire's house." And with that he disappeared.

 

"None of us really live up to our names," Vengeance growled after him. "Not a one." He turned to Ire and sighed. "I'll see you later."

 

Ire watched as he walked away. Poor V, she thought gloomily. It's not his fault he got named after his parents 'crime'. But then again, it's none of our fault. Greed's parents were miserly. My parents were quick to anger. His parents tried to attack the feudal lord.... She didn't even bother to finish the long list of names the feudal lord had assigned to the children of the village, following an old tradition that had started with her mentor, Gloom. We all have our flaws, in the end. She turned to look up at the hill that the feudal lord's castle was sitting on. But only you keep a record.

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Ire strolled down the streets of the town, staring at her feet. Truthfully, she was worried. More than worried: she was petrified that the elders would have her thrown out. Then what would she do?

 

Train by myself in the forest, of course, she thought sulkily. Even then, safe in her thoughts, the idea seemed silly. Gada had been her mentor since she had been six, and though he had trained her to be able to build up one's strength, she doubted she would be able to actually make an improvement.

 

She turned a corner and came to the edge of town. Before her, Hydra Beach stretched for miles. The sun was getting lower in the sky to her right, casting faint colors of fire onto the vast ocean's surface. A sea breeze blew her chocolate brown hair out behind her. This was her home. If she were forced to leave, it might just kill her.

 

She walked along the beach until she came upon the back door of an inn called the Salty Sunfish. Letting herself in with a tiny, rusted key, she tossed her cloak onto a bench and headed up to the room she stayed in. As Gada's student, he payed for her room, board, and whatever equipment she needed. If she were to be let into the elementals, however, that would all change. She would have to find a job in the surrounding lands to pay for her own things. Opening the door to her room, she collapsed onto her bed with an exhausted sigh.

 

A few minutes later, Greed and Vengeance appeared in her doorway. She welcomed them in and they took up their usual posts: the gyphon boy hanging upside down from the rafters, Vengeance leaning on the door frame.

 

"I don't think I can do this," Ire said truthfully as she stripped off her dirty shirt and pulled on a fresh one.

 

The boys, their eyes securely elsewhere, snorted. "Sure you can do it," Greed said, striped hair dangling like mistletoe. "If you can't who can? You done yet?"

 

Ire checked herself in the tiny wall mirror. "Yeah, I'm good." The two boys opened their eyes and Greed continued.

 

"To be frank, the odds are against you. Not a one of the elders, excepting Gada and Orreck, like you. And that's only two out of ten. But they all know that they must accept a student if they are ready no matter what race they are. They're supposed to keep their prejudices out of the selection process." He paused and frowned. "Come to think of it....they don't seem to like anyone, actually...."

 

Ire sighed. "I know how it's done, Greed," she said, sitting back on her bed and clutching the tiny stuffed dragon she had had since she was a baby, its leather tongue protruding in a silly manner. "The problem is, I don't think that they do themselves."

 

"Either that," Vengeance said quietly, "or they are in denial." He looked out the window. "It's time. We had better get going."

 

Ire shivered. Already? She had hoped she could visit a few more friends before her doom was sealed....

 

**************

"You look like death, Ire," Greed said as they walked down the street towards the center of town where the elders held council.

 

The girl cast him a glare. "Thanks," she snapped. "That was helpful."

 

The gryphon shrugged. "Well you do," he muttered.

 

"You could try to brighten up," Vengeance said. "If they see you're afraid, they'll just take that as another excuse to throw you out."

 

"Listen to your friends' advice," a chilly voice said behind them. The three turned to see a lanky, black skinned man walking towards them. His silvery-white hair was ragged and looked half-dry. He observed them with calm, almost bored grey eyes.

 

"Master Orreck," the students murmurred, bowing as one. The dark elf nodded to them and pointed at Ire.

 

"You know you have my vote," he said softly. "But I would do as your friends suggest. The elders have eyes trained to find your weaknesses; they will use it."

 

"I'm not afraid of monsters or war," Ire said as they continued to walk forward. "What I'm afraid of is that they will not take me in at all. If that happens, what will I do with my life? I won't have a purpose any more."

 

Orreck shrugged. "We all have purposes: they change, every now and then. When I was young, my purpose was to assassinate the Golden One, and look what happened to me?"

 

Ire couldn't argue. Orreck's past was much more turbulent than her own, and he had been accepted into the elementals. The dark elf's father had trained his son specifically to try and kill the wisest and strongest of dragons, and Orreck had been exceedingly capable to do so. And yet he had managed to escape his father's plan and become a student instead. If a dark elf with so horrible a past had been allowed into the elementals, why couldn't she?

 

They entered the outer section of the tent in silence. The master and students traded bows and Orreck left them to walk into the inner part. Ire stood in the shadows, away from the candle light as more and more masters walked in. She and her friends didn't talk as the dreaded moment drew nearer.

 

Finally a young student opened the inner tent flaps. "The student Ire may now enter."

 

With one last glance at her friends, Ire walked forward; straightening her back and lifting her chin, she entered the inner tent.

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The tent was circular, giving the room a bigger appearance than it really was. A rung had been spread on the ground and it squished under her feet like baby grass in spring. Lamps stood next to the walls in a circle, the red glass giving the entire room a warm, and yet almost sinister feeling. Every bit of cloth that decorated the place was either dark brown or red. The table that sat longways in front of her was filled with the elders: ten people in all, two of which she knew. Gada sat in the middle, next to the some of the eldest elementals in the village. Orreck sat near the end, with the other younger council members. A shiver ran up her spine. Many of the elders watched her almost.....smugly......

 

"Student Ire, you have applied to become an elemental," a woodsman sitting next to Gada grumbled. His gravelly voice sounded like a mixture of a rock slide, the wind in the trees, and a babbling brook. Dressed all in green and brown, he looked like an aged tree, his rough, brown skin resembling bark. Thick, bushy eyebrows like caterpillars crawled across his forehead. "You have passed your test on the cliffs and Master Gloom has approved you, as has Master Orreck." He looked up at her, piercing green eyes staring almost hauntingly. "However, the rest of the council, including myself, have decreed that you will not join us."

 

The jolt came harder than Ire had imagined it. Tears sprung into her eyes, only to be forced back by her iron will. It wasn't like she had been optimistic.

 

"Don't look like the plague, child," the man snapped. "I'm not finished."

 

Ire jumped, eyes widening. Was this the end of her life in the village.....?

 

"Master Orreck and Master Gada have brought a very valid point before the eyes of the council. But before I tell you what that is, I want you to know the reason for our delayment of you initiation into elemental." He raised his eyebrows and continued. "The council believes that, though you are ready, there are several reasons we should continue to delay you for now. One, is that you are indeed human, and though you are capable, the elementals is run by elementals, hence the name. Two, you have a terrible anger in your heart: this must be destroyed, which is why you will proceed to the post of Assassin."

 

Ire blinked. What?

 

"The feudal lord," he continued, "has become a problem, a danger. More and more children are not making it past the age of four and without our youth, the village will die. You will solve this, as soon as possible. If you are not ready before the next summer solstice to depart on your mission, the assignment will be given over to someone else and you will be placed into the elementals. You understand? If you are not prepared in twelve months, your chance for revenge will be gone." Again his eyebrows waggled at her to emphasize his point.

 

Ire snapped out of her trance. "Yes....of course....sir. I understand."

 

"Good!" he boomed. "You will be assigned a strike team of the elementals' best fighters, including your comrades, students Greed and Vengeance. You will train them, they will train you," he waved a hand, "etcetera, etcetera. You are dismissed. And remember: the summer solstice."

 

Ire bowed, head spinning. Turning to leave, she lost sight and floated through her steps in a reverie: the next thing she remembered, she was cartwheeling down the paths, whooping, her friends running in a bewildered state behind her.

 

An elder sighed. "How undignified."

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"So now what?" Greed asked excitedly as they filed back into the Salty Sunfish. They picked a table near the back to keep their privacy as they talked.

 

Ire shrugged. She had told them all that had happened in the tent. Now that that was done, her energy of exictement had faded into the mental silence of anxiety. She had no idea what she was going to do to get started. "I can't stay here," she said, chewing a fingernail. "I can't afford it, now that Master Gada will be pulling my funding. First of all, I'm naming you two my advisors. The second thing to do is to set up a camp for the rest of the strike team and a make a training schedule."

 

At the table next to them, a man in the shadows perked up. He pulled his mug closer to hide his face, listening intently. The students were unaware.

 

"Let's get started then," Vengeance said, pulling out a piece of parchment and laying it flat on the table. The charcoal pencil he always had flashed across its surface and a quick camp layout was formed. "The main tent, where we three will sleep, will be on the inside so that we can send out orders quickly and efficiently. The others in the strike team will be placed into circles of four tents. The bathrooms will be over here, the training grounds over here. I have a good idea where this camp can be placed."

 

Ire frowned. "You're freaky, V: the only person in the village who can make a camp in three seconds."

 

The phoenix boy grinned. "I do try. Anyway, I suggest we place this camp on the cliffs, where we will be out of the castle's sight. If the feudal lord sees a strange camp preparing for battle, he'll get suspiscious and wipe us out."

 

"And in case he does find out," Greed said, pointing at the permeter of the map, "we'll have four watches a night, six hours each. There should be enough students so that no one will have to do it twice in a week."

 

Ire sighed. "Well, that's that. You guys are a big help." With that the two boys grinned and siad their good nights. Ire was left alone at her table where she continued to think.

 

A man brushed her chair roughly and she looked up. One of the usual drunks was leering down at her. "Heard some of yer little conversation," he said, his ale sodden breath wafting over her in a noxious fume. "Settin' up camp with the boys, eh?"

 

Ire could see where this was going; the hairs on her nape began to rise. Behind her, the man in the shadows slowly stood, hand on a hidden sword hilt. "I am," she said frostily.

 

"And what're they payin' yeh?" he asked, moving closer. "I could use some comp'ny tonight....."

 

Her fist flew out to bash him in the gut, knocking him over. A gasp of sour air escpaed his mouth as he collapsed on the floor.

 

Ire stood. She hadn't hit the man hard, but an unprepared stomach always left the victim breathless. "I'm not doing this for money," she said quietly. "And I'm not sharing their beds either. I'm avenging my parents' death. Don't dare get in my way."

 

Turning to walk away, she ran into the lean chest of another man. Her fists curled defensively, but the man backed away, hands open and at his sides. "Forgive me," he said. "But may I have a word? Alone?"

 

Ire dropped her hands and examined the man gruffly. He was tall and and lithe with the muscles of one who was either running or walking all the time. His clothes were weather rotten and his hair hadn't been washed in a long time. It hung in greasy strings around his face, which was covered in dirt and streaked with sweat. Before, Ire wouldn't have ever 'had a word' with such a man, especially 'alone' but something about him made her pause. There was an ice in his eyes, one that spoke of a power that didn't spend its precious time chasing teenage girls. "Sure," she replied, adding just in case, "But don't pull anything."

 

The man's face broke into a wry smirk. "Hadn't crossed my brain." He followed her into the upper levels as she lead him to her room, boots making almost no sound as he crept behind her. Once upstairs, she sat on her bed and faced him, leaving a small dagger visible at her side.

 

He saw it and made no note as he closed the door. With a wave and a murmurred word that she did not catch, the room glowed blue temporarily, then resettled into its candle-lit hue.

 

"What was that?" Ire asked, awed. She knew magic when she saw it, and she had only seen it once as a girl. A young man had eaten fire in the market place, traveling with a small circus of jugglers and body-weavers. Even though it had been long ago, she remembered vividly the magic and how it had entranced her. Her only copper piece had gone to that man.

 

"That was magic," the man said, watching her. "You've seen it before, I can tell. In fact, from the way your thoughts have suddenly moved, I can tell you recognise me."

 

Ire, both astonished and irritated, didn't know which emotion to persue first. Choosing anger, she frowned. "I don't like my thoughts being monitered," she growled.

 

"Apologies," the man said, bowing and touching his lips. "It won't happen again."

 

"And why do you say I recognise you?" she asked. "Because I've never seen you in my life."

 

It hit her just before he answered. "I am the fire eater," he said. "You watched me in the market place long ago. You may no know me, but I certainly remember you. The only girl who ever gave notice." He chuckled dryly as she blushed and frowned again. "My name is Ember. And I want to help you."

 

"Help me how?" she asked. "You don't even know anything about me."

 

The fire eater cleared his throat and laughed uncomfortably. "Well, haha, I did listen in on your conversation, so actually do." He coughed again and straightened imperiously.

 

"I am here to teach you magic."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Ire blinked. "Magic??" She was stunned at her own stupidity. So bent on revenge and she had never thought of pursuing the most powerful of all trades. The idea of using magic against her foes had never crossed her brain. And, if what she had heard was true about the arts, then her cause would definitely benefit from learning. "What kind do you have in mind?"

 

Ember shrugged. "All kinds. I'm a jack-of-all-trades; while I specialize in the fire art, I have dipped my fingers into...almost....every kind of magic there is. I can teach you whatever you want." He walked over to the windowsill and sat down. Ire braced herself for a lecture. "There are several different arts of magic. The basics are the elemental arts, fire, water, wind, and earth. The arts of light and darkness are just slightly more complicated and require more study. The most complicated arts," he paused and muttered under his breath, "...excluding the death art, of course...." and continued, "are the arts of color. You've no doubt heard of blue and black magic. While exceedingly difficult to manage, the majority of worldwide mages usually master color magics. You could spend your entire life studying one color and just barely skim the surface. Then you can begin to mix and match the colors: for example, the summoning spell is purple magic. The art of scrying, seeing or speaking to things far away, is blue magic. Transpoting that thing to your location is red magic, and placing them together is called purple magic." He frowned. "Are you understanding all this? I know it must sound strange: I called my first teacher insane." He chuckled.

 

"No," Ire said, shaking her head. "Actually, it's fascinating." The idea of magic was capturing her mind like spiders' webs. "But what did you mean when you said 'excluding the death art'? What is the death art?"

 

Ember's smile vanished. He cleared his throat and looked away. "It's not actually called the death art. That's my personal nickname for it. This type of magic is technically called the lightning art. Few believe it exists and even few have mastered it. All but one of the students of lightning art died. Why? Because the lightning art takes its power from the mind of the user. If you can imagine it, you can do it. Thus it is extremely powerful and dangerous, even in the right hands."

 

"Can you control it?" Ire asked, eyes wide.

 

Ember shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "I've never wanted to learn. You see, there are several reasons why most sane mages won't even touch books about the lightning art. The two main reasons are thus: one, because of the strain the art puts on body and mind, an unexperianced mage could involuntarily rip himself, or the world, or even reality to shreds. Two, because the lightning art is almost a sentient being. It thinks, it plans, it has ideas. And none of them are good." He paused and sighed. "I'm going to be your teacher, so I might as well tell you. I have a third, personal reason to stay away from this art. My brother was enchanted by it. And he is no longer the man he used to be. When he was young, he was gentle and quiet: the happiest child in the town." His eyes became distant and he chuckled softly. "He is younger than me, by three years. But we used to play together in the woods for hours. We were good friends with the people of the forest, and my brother loved animals." He frowned at the floor. "He was very smart. My parents sent him to a mages school when he was ten. When he came back.....he was no longer the brother I knew. He was cold and disdainful. I found him a few times in the forest killing animals for pleasure." Ember's frown deepened. "He went insane under the power of lightning art. My parents are dead because of it." He sighed. "He changed his own name and left home. I was alone and starving: I joined a group of traveling magicians and that's where I leaned. Recently I have found where my brother is, which is mainly why I have come to teach you. My brother is in the castle on that hill." He pointed to the feudal lord's fortress.

 

Ire gulped. Great. Another powerful mage to deal with. "What did he change his name to?"

 

Ember grimaced. "He calls himself Slaughter." Sighing he stood. "Enough of that conversation. Come: I want to show you your other teacher."

 

Ire stood and raised an eyebrow. "My other teacher??" she asked. "So now there's two."

 

Ember smiled. "Just follow me."

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Ire followed Ember out of the inn quietly. The sky around them had grown dark, speckeled with millions of stars and a single glowing orb that sat diligently behind a patch of clouds. He led her up the street away from the ocean towards the cliffs. He did not say a word as they walked.

 

Ire had never been outside after dark. For one thing, it was forbidden, and for another, it was very dangerous. The rocks were sharp and could easily trip one up, sending them over the cliffs onto the ocean below. Not to mention the countless nightcrawlers, both human and beast, that would pounce if you were either pretty or a good meal. Ember seemed to know his way around, however, and led her safely up the streets and out of the town. As soon as they were out of sight, he pulled a small lantern from under his cloak. It was octagonal in shape with a top that slanted inwards to a small, netted top. The glass was crystal clear and the pieces of metal that held the panes together was a glimmering, brown color. The lantern glowed with a gentle yellow light that flickered in a rapid series of fading in and out. Ire looked closer and almost gasped in delight to see several large lightning bugs floating lazily around, bumping against the glass.

 

"Pan made it for me," Ember explained when she questioned him about it. When she exasperatedly asked who in the world Pan was, he shook his head and smiled. "You'll see," he said.

 

Ire gave up and settled into a quick pace at his side. When they reached the cliff rocks, Ember turned right sharply and headed into the thick forest. Ire's heart fluttered faintly. She had never been into the forest at night, and she had heard horrible stories of goblins and trolls that lived among the mosses and tree trunks that were a hundred feet in circumferance.

 

It was dark at first. Ember moved aside the many branches and thorn brambles, excusing himself to the trees and bushes they belonged to as he moved forwards. Ire, too stunned for words, merely followed in silence and let him speak to the trees undisturbed. Then, as if the sun had come, everything turned golden. She blinked and found that past the thick, nightmarish brambles, the forest opened up. The trees were huge indeed, but were spread apart and not clustered together. The bushes were short and soft and the mosses clung to rocks and roots in the fuzzy manner that made her want to pet them. Tiny mushrooms of vibrant colors sprouted from the ground. Lightning bugs, like the ones in Ember's lantern, buzzed about drunkenly. And for several feet in all directions, the lanter in Ember's hand cast a soft glow. The forest was so fairy-like that Ire felt she should be speaking to the various foliage.

 

Ember led her deeper and deeper into the forest. Ire kept feeling that she was being watched, and every time she looked at the surrounding trees, she saw glittering eyes. It unnerved her, so she eventually stopped looking.

 

Finally they came upon a clearing in the forest. It was huge, with an enormous tree in the center. It was gnarly and harsh looking with soot colored bark that twisted like hardened lava. The leaves, like every other tree in the forest, were a gold tinted green. "Pan!" Ember called out to the tree.

 

Ire was incredulous: he'd brought her all this way to see a tree? How rediculous. She was about to say something when from behind the tree, something moved, walking out into the lanter light.

 

Perhaps something should be explained to the reader here. When you think of fauns, you no doubt think of a well groomed creature who is half human and half goat. Well, that is true of most fauns. There is, however, a special type of faun that only lives in the goblin inhabited parts of forests. The creature that emerged was this kind of faun. He was tall and slightly bent at the waist. His skin was like the bark of the tree in which he lived, except mottled brown and green. From the waist down his body was that of a goat. His face was pale and smooth; it resembled both a human's face and a goat's face. His ears were long and curved, sticking straight out from the sides of his head. The hair that coated his head and the sides of his cheeks was brown and tangled. Two large, black, gnarled horns rose from his brow and curled around. On his forehead were two, strange swirling marks. His eyes were a dark blue color, with harldy any distinguishable pupils. The faun bowed low, his long, tangled hair sweeping over one shoulder.

 

Ember grinned at her astonished face. "Ember, meet Pan."

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(For the record, there is a Faun named Pan in the upcoming movie, Pan's Labyrinth. He looks exactly as I have described him, and though I have not seen the movie, I love their interpretation of the creatures of the forest. I just thought I should say that, since 'Pan' is not of my own creation. However, the character himself in my story should be quite different than in the movie, which is going to be stinking awesome!)

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Ire stared at the faun, eyes wide. His angular visage invoked all sorts of feelings in her: horror, sadness, awe. He reminded her of the fairy tales her parents had told her when she had been a little girl....when they had still been alive.

 

Pan blinked his opaque eyes at her and cocked his head to one side. "It is an honor to meet you," he said softly. His voice was musical and reminded her of bells. He reached out a long fingered hand.

 

Ire stumbled out of her shock in an embarrassing manner. She stuttered her greetings and accepted the faun's hand, blushing furiously. The faun smiled and turned to Ember. A low clicking noise rose in his throat, the mixture between a growl and a purr. "Would you like to come in?"

 

Ember bowed back to the faun, also smiling. "We'd love to, thanks."

 

Pan chuckled and turned, walking into a door that had suddenly appeared in the tree. Because of his heavy hooves, he lifted his feet in an almost stately manner. Ire imagined him an actor on a stage, placing emotion into every action. "If you please, no fire this time?" he asked quietly, placing a hand on the frame of the door and looking back at them. "I'd prefer not to have to put it out, much less clean up afterwards."

 

Ember smiled and touched his forehead. "I promise, no fire." He followed the faun into the tree, winking at Ire as he passed her. "Coming?"

 

Ire nodded faintly as she walked into the door. She looked up, her mouth hanging open in awe. The door was at least seven feet tall, to fit the faun who lived there. Moss hung like curtains on the sides, and the walls of the tree as she walked in were not bark, but cold stone. Intricate carvings followed her path as she moved slowly into the tree, following the footsteps of her friend. She didn't notice that the floor angled downward, nor that it had descended into spiraling steps. Her eyes were on the carvings, which showed stories: trolls, gnomes, fairies, people of the woods, and the same picture of a faun among them. He looked alot like Pan.

 

When she reached the bottom, she came to an intersection and realized that she had been left behind. In one direction, the stone halls twisted on without the carvings. In the other direction, the carvings continued to curl across the walls. Cursing softly, Ire picked the carvings and turned left, following the pictures. She walked for several more minutes, turning and twisting until she felt completely lost. At alst she saw a door before her. Like the walls, it was intricately carved. A tree was drawn on its surface, the two main branches gnarled like Pan's horns. She gently pushed the door open and found herself in a small, cozy room. The walls were covered with bookshelves, and a large reading chair sat against the opposite wall next to a writing desk. On the desk was paper, quills, and several ink pots. A large book of fairy tales lay open on the chair. Walking to it, she looked through its pages to find that the stories inside were very similar to what she had seen on the walls.

 

"Easy to get lost, isn't it?"

 

Ire jumped, putting the book down quickly as she whirled to see Pan standing in the doorway, watching her. "Yes," she said, unnerved. "It is."

 

Pan walked forward and looked around silently. "This is my room," he said.

 

"It's lovely," Ire said uncomfortably.

 

Pan glanced back down at her. "Why do you fear me?" he asked.

 

Ire shook her head. "I don't fear you. Well, not really. My parents told me tales about the people of the woods, and I've always imagined that they were here, but I've never met one. And truth be told, you're rather large." She clamped her mouth shut, clowing off her babbling.

 

Pan stared at her, expressionless. For a while he said nothing. Finally, he walked forward and picked up the fairy tale book, carressing its pages gently. "My parents told me of the wood people too," he said, so quietly that Ire had to strain to hear him. "Great tales of heroics and love. I remembered them all and wrote them down in this book."

 

"Where are your parents now?" Ire asked without thinking.

 

Pan was again silent for a while. Then he shut the book stiffly and put it down. "Dead," he said. Turning he left the room, pausing at the door. "We have much to discuss," he said without looking at her. Another pause interupted his speech and for a moment Ire could have swarn she saw his shoulders sag in a sigh. Then he looked back at her and offered a hand. "It would be best not to get lost again."

 

Ire gulped and took his hand, inwardly marveling at the feel of his bark-like skin. Without a word they walked back through the halls, hand in hand.

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Ire was silent next to Ember as they walked back into town later that night. Much had been discussed in the warm kitchen of Pan's home, from magical properties to war tactics. The faun had been mostly silent through it all, speaking only to offer tea or correct Ember's grammar. His presence had been a soft and steady purr in Ire's mind. Now that it was gone, she almost missed it.

 

"This is where I leave you," Ember said, jolting her out of her thoughts. They had come to the edge of the town, the intersection between the paths leading in to the houses and the paths leading out to the cliffs. "I prefer to stay in the woods. Can you get home safely from here?" He bit his lip in a grimace and grinned at her sour look. "Sorry: you live here, I don't. Forget I asked, will you?"

 

Ire rolled her eyes. "Good night, Ember. I'll see you in the morning."

 

"Right," Ember said, backing away. "Good night."

 

Ire walked into the town, hugging herself. She had never been so consumed with her thoughts before. The night had been strange indeed: an odd (dare she say handsome?) mage and an intimidating, awe inspiring faun had just walked into her life. She didn't want to blink or go to sleep for fear that her two new friends would vanish, trickle through her fingers like her parents: here today, gone tomorrow.

 

She sniffed and wiped away a tear, cursing her monthly rage of hormones. What a time to get teary! Shouldn't she be happy that she had new allies? Ire realized that a normal person with stable emotions might feel happy. But the discussion of war had brought the reality of her revenge to the front of her brain, and she had realized that even if she killed the feudal lord and avenged her parents, it was certain that other friends would die in the attempt. And who would she reap vengeance upon then?

 

Ire took a shuddering sigh and paused in the streets, leaning against a wall. Perhaps she should just give up the revenge thing. It was best for everyone. Liar, a nasty voice in her head whispered. Best for your friends maybe. What about the starving children in the streets, or the young men and women who are thrown into petty wars only to be slaughtered like sheep? Ire looked up at the road before her. Three filthy boys huddled on pieces of burlap in a corner, shivering in the night air. A man, not even past his twenties, hobbled into his house with a crutch, one leg missing entirely. Ire clenched a fist and gently thumped it against the wall. That settled it. No more crying! The feudal lord had to go.

 

Besides, the voice said in her mind. Don't you think that your friends realize the dangers? Stop worrying for them and let them do that for themselves.

Edited by Degorram
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