he lifted his dented helmet and wiped a hand across his slick brow. "Damn undead... Don't even bleed normally."
"They are not of this life, Fangoose... Not of this plane possibly, yet their utterly vile intentions led them to attack us. With justified cause, or mere, malevolent followings, I wonder?" the tall, slender form of Okrain Malo inquired openly. Casting his sharp, infra-red vision deeper into oppressive swells of challenging blackness he frowned. "Are you certain this
is the direction Choria went, Narkel? Absolutely? For judging by our recent victory and demonically cold surroundings it seems rather a better place for sinister, dark processions, such as the kind we previously faced, comrades... Not discounting dear Choria's misunderstood chivalry, of course," he concluded with a smug smile crawling upon his handsome, bright
features.
"Misunderstood chiv'ry or misplaced sentiments, gold elf?" a suddenly distracted and huffing Fangoose challenged. Leveling his hard, anticipatory gaze on the still grinning, apparently unthreatening Okrain he growled. Soon after, with an astonishing swiftness he slammed the full brunt of his heavy, keen ax down hard. Underneath its unstoppable might sharp cracks and
splinters echoed loudly. "What the hell em I sayin' anyway? Damn wood elf ranger probably got herself killed for all we know. Right, fiddlefingers?"
"I-I don't... Well -" the short, stubby frame of Narkel Hibbs attempted but was quickly interrupted by the dominant holler of a very muscular, very broad, blonde-bearded dwarf.
"Cause if she dared to mistake our friendship for a reason to go on one of her fanciful exploits!" Fangoose continued loudly and wretched his ax free from the heap of scattered bones and dismembered, maggot-infested limbs. "But if she went and betrayed us... Well that's another matter all together. One that I'm apt to solve with either this 'ere blade, or a little
discussion. I know Choria's never been one to say much, but after beating these reeking, rotten corpses, she better have one hell of a good tale to tell!!" he announced finally and glared at the bare-footed, mumbling halfling, Narkel.
"Choria... uh... Choria really didn't say... I mean... uh... Oh, flammin, flummin fiddlesticks!! Choria never meant to abandon us!!" a red-faced, stammering, finger-waggling Narkel explained quizzically.
"Ah shut up, halfling!! Ya don't know what yer saying!! Never knew from the beginning, and now yer resortin' to half-witted, riddle-filled tactics again!" Fargoose reminded and continued to focus an intimidating, battle-hardened stare on the smaller, rounder Narkel. Huffing loudly, expiring a strained, frustrated howl he looked to the accumulative mound of unmoving,
once-animated, undead corpses at his feet. "Damn unliving! What's that girl got herself into?!"
"More, I dare, say, Fargoose, than immediate portrayals of absolute and stunning betrayal would care to admit," the smooth, melodic voice of Danairra Soith interjected. Seeming to step forward upon an invisible wave of electrified air the accomplished wizard stopped before the three. "Vitally important deeds could be the only, essential reason... Deeds mysterious, but
apparently significant, in not only swaying a very brave and trustworthy ally far away, but also an underlying prominence that caused this," she indicated with a sweep of her glowing fingertips to the lumpy ground surrounding. All followed her curious stare to where lifeless representations of battered devilry and blackened bloods remained. "Through the consequential
expression of wicked minions of undead lords, and the like, we now know the truth of which Narkel speaks. For Choria had not, and did not, abandon us. She was merely sent on an exclusive mission well beyond our understanding of immediate acceptance. A mission for herself and only herself, and which I suspect will end there," she stated and jabbed a slender index finger
high. As if in response a thick, obscuring mist parted to reveal a crumbled, granite staircase high upon Badler Mountain's extensive side. "Remember the dream, friends, and know now that our time of extraordinary permission for Choria's secret is now... Possibly to save her, or celebrate with her, but knowing in all that she did not abandon us, no matter your wayward
opinion, Okrain."
"Y-Yes... Yes, Danairra!! A King's, no, a Queen's discretion!!" a suddenly energetic, smiling Narkel announced. Puffing his chest out he said, "Indescribable magic and honoured, past reflections, my frien-"
"Ah, quit yer blabbin,'" Fargoose interjected again and stomped toward the secretive staircase. "If it ain't a fumblin' fiddlefinger or a missing betrayer who has a lot to speak of, then I'm sworn to get my anger out on another bunch of these unliving, despic'ble creatures... Still think the wood elf's up to no good though," he mumbled, hoping above all else that the
riddle-filled halfling hadn't heard him.
"Pray tell the wood elf's unfortunate passing in such a horrid land," Okrain mentioned near. "Such a heartfelt loss, if indeed it is the case."
"Moreso then even you would know, Okrain Malo," Danairra cussed lightly as the four strode high, to where moonlit reflections and wispy, mountainous mists, alongside a natural coolness, slithered upon their lightly-attired bodies. "Choria's night to remember forever, as it will be yours. Do not forget, gentlemen, for this could be a night of mightily challenged
perceptions."
Gradually a beautifully lit openness spread wide at the breezy summit. But soon the four realized that the glittery wash of rainbow colours did not necessarily exude from the ethereal reality of moonlit gifts, but rather from a scene both beautiful and entirely phenomenal. Several gasps reverberated near.
"I-I told you -" a muttering, obviously stunned Narkel pronounced as he blinked consecutively and produced a lopsided, somewhat mischievous smile. For displayed so miraculously in such a perplexing and serene setting sat a scene both deniable and undeniable. Where, far behind, and far below, lonesome, horrifying stretches of essential, stolen lives existed a stunning
grandeur of gloriously unnatural, and natural, resilience glowed before them.
Trapped within a craterous hallow, so similar to an earthy pot-mark, the seemingly mystical sight transpired. And at its centre, floating high, twirling eloquently amidst a flurry of colours, magic's unknown, was Choria Paisson, their long lost ally and friend. In immediate response Narkel offered another hopeless gasp. In front, Fangoose grumbled deeply and tapped his
ax to his mithril shield's radiant front.
"Another damn graveyard," he mumbled offhandedly and grimaced.
"No, dearest Fargoose... Much, much more... Listen, courageous dwarf. Listen and know of Choria's tale," Danairra emphasized and smiled broadly. "Peer upon the retreating evils and the heightened presence of once forgotten, now restored spirits... Feel that which Choria was destined to fulfill, as a long since dismissed, but gloriously special princess to her
supposedly slaughtered, gentlefolk of tragically humbled, unaware wood elves. Feel the resurgence!"
Ghost-like spirits soared. Tingly fingertips and teasing smiles lingered from ancient, innocent lips as the wondrous depiction of restoration pulled the four forward. Into a harmonic throng of seemingly illusionary, but very animated elven folk of dreams past, they were led. Soon, surrounded by an unbelievable prominence of joyously alive spirits, melodic lyrics, and
fantastic auras of bountiful, natural magic's, it was difficult to concentrate. As healing notes drifted high, affectionate touches tickled and caressed near alongside sweet, foreign voices, even Fangoose felt an upward curve to his lips forming. Life swelled everywhere. Invigorated, revitalized, and never-ending, it seemed.
"Misunderstood, gentlemen?" Danairra pressed near with a bright smile emanating. "Apparently Choria's assembled kinfolk, or even the floundering, once domineering demons would speak differently. For they, unlike you, chose to accept, rather than suspect. Neither a betrayer, abandoner, or a disputed soul, but something so much more, friends," she emphasized and pointed
high. Still floating upon light airs, the singing, dancing image of their dearly beloved ranger twirled. "Nay, I think not, gentlemen. For even now the horde of possessively abhorrent, unemotional beasts is damned from this land or any material plane for another hundred years... The same beasts who willingly stole Choria's lifeblood, her memories, her family... The
same evil beasts who pay such respect now to the true princess of a secretively destined wood elf folk.
"Maybe now, most especially, you will understand that which you so often misunderstand. Maybe here, friends, your maturation will proceed to a point beyond humanity, into a world of soulful passions. Maybe here, now, facing the beauteous, rejuvenating presence of Choria Paisson and her once forgotten, special people, you will judge by standards set not by moralistic
attitudes or discriminatory instincts, but rather through spiritual, heartened guidance. Maybe..," and she paused as all cast their eyes skyward to the astounding innocence of resounding magic's and everlasting beauties, "... Choria will accept your humiliated apologies. We can only hope she does not set the wrath of her people's spirits on you for your verbal misdeeds
and flagrant assumptions... One can only hope -"
"U-Unless, of course, you'd... uh... prefer to relinquish absurd reactions to playful pastimes and... uh... frolic freely amongst spirited folk," Narkel offered haphazardly and slipped a lopsided smirk.
"Ah, shaddup, fiddlefingers, and let us see what those little, stubby legs can do. 'Bout time you lost a little girth besides," Fangoose roared and pulled Narkel quickly, but gently, near. "Hope you know Gargoreeth Pearch, halfling, 'cause under the princess lady's magical presence that's the only one I know."
"Indeed this shall be an apology well worth considerable applause and a few meandering laughs," Danairra said through snickers as her lithe, human frame easily kept pace with Okrain's gracefully dexterous swirls amongst equally capable, ghost dancers and admiring spectators. "Maybe here, now, we will finally learn our ways."
"And understand, fiddlefingers," Fangoose huffed as he near flipped a screaming, red-faced Narkel high over his broad shoulder in a strangely interesting, but very physical dance. Gargoreeth Pearch indeed.
"Yes, and most especially understand Narkel, so long as he has a voice left to speak," she stated and laughed openly as the tongue-waggling, panic-stricken form of a pudgy, hairy Narkel Hibbs flew fast and furiously, only to land safely near a wide-eyed, oddly smiling Fangoose. "A night, a time, long to remember. Our princess, or dear, compassion ranger friend, has much
to learn and much to discover."
"More than simple tunes could remedy, I'm afraid," a quietly introspective Okrain Malo stated solemnly. A particular sparkle in his blazing, golden eyes hinted of an undeniable change. A change even more than Danairra could have anticipated. But with a quick, supportive sweep amongst fiddly lutes, streaming harps, and melodically free voices, it seemed a time better
left to present fancies, rather than future considerations. A time for Choria Paisson and the rebuilding of her people's forgotten past, and her anticipated destiny. "A princess everlasting."
Bio, E-mail, and URL:
About Michael in his own words: "I am a 28-year-old freelance illustrator who not only enjoys the many simple things of life but also the chance to challenge one's conscience with hints of fantastic situations, and by including curious characters within magical times. Well, maybe a little more often than I'd like to admit.
Presently, postings of my manuscripts appear in The Inditer, The Outpost, Aphelion, A Writer's Choice Literary Journal, and Little Read Writer's Hood.."
Michael can be e-mailed at: bjessen@total.net
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