Fenza: She of the Forest

When Nard stepped into the afflicted forest, his own Eastern Wingspan Mates close behind, he saw nothing at first. But everyone heeded Chief Zy's warning. They aimed their Kickers at the slightest crunch. And they moved slow, stopping every so often so their eyes could scan the darkness.

The eerie quiet gave Nard an ominous feeling. He had no doubt this Shadow would produce some nasty surprises. Just as a dark gray cloud would unleash heavy rain, so too would a coal-colored Shadow.

After traveling for several minutes and finding nothing, Coi, the blond-haired Commander of the Southern Wingspan, suggested splitting up.

"That would not be a good idea," Nard responded. "We've been made into a team. We should stay a team."

Coi agreed, and the unified patrol continued.

A few paces further, Nard made a gesture and halted his wingspan. Coi did the same. Nard had been struck by a chilling premonition. It was the forest critters had alerted him. They were quiet.

Nard held up a motion for silence. The Mates in both Wingspans gave each other confused looks and shrugs.

Nard breathed deep.

Then he aimed his Kicker and fired. The click was followed by a horrible "hreeeee!" All the Mates turned in that direction.

The creature Nard felled had a purple hide and legs tall enough for it to reach to an adult's knees. Its tiny arms ended not with hands, but a large, curved claw sharp enough to cleave a man in half. Most of its face was dominated by large, beady and yellow insect-like eyes.

Pre's face drained to the color of pale death. "T-t-hat's—"

"—keep your voice low. Please," Nard insisted with a fearful whisper.

"B-but...was it?" Pre stammered.

"Yes."

Nard waved for everyone to group together, and kept his voice low.

"Everyone, listen to me. That was a Narangorn. Form a tight-knit circle facing every conceivable direction. Have your Kickers ready to fire. And for the sakes of the gods, check your silencers. One loud noise brings the whole rotten bunch."

They formed just as Nard ordered, with Commander Coi refining their shape. When all was done, the Mates had their eyes trained on the area's entire circumference.

Vae stood beside Nard, clutching his weapon and shaking. "Narangorn...and I mocked him for it."

"Then find him and apologize when we've won," Nard whispered back. Then slightly louder: "Positions formed? Silencers checked?"

Everyone made a quick inspection of their silencers.

"Ready yourselves," Nard urged. "The bastards are closing in."

The worst thing about Narangorn, any Shadow Patrolman will say, lies in their amazing stealth. They have frail bodies that a Kicker blast to the torso can break apart, but an inherent ability to maintain complete silence. Unless they are spotted prior to an attack they are practically invisible. They strike in packs, never individually. They have uncontested night vision, better than any other Shadowspawn. And they are fast. Very fast.

There was an audible click, a flash, and a Narangorn's dying scream. Nard gulped. The Kickers had silencers but Narangorn did not. Who knew how many of these monsters were out there?

A click and then another click. The Narangorn were swiftly rushing toward the Mates but the tight formation was working.

"No one waver their eyes," Nard ordered. "Stay strictly focused in your designated..."

His own Kicker clicked. He grimaced.

Click. Click click click click. Click click. Clicks and yellow fireworks. Narangorn bodies smoked and twitched. Others rushed the Mates and fell. Intensity and anxiety abounded. Sight was one thing. Speed was another. If one Mate didn't fire fast enough...

Narangorn poured out of the darkness. Nard neutralized three and reminded everyone to "keep your nerve!"

Kicker batteries are designed for frequent output. There was little chance of any failing. Yet with each new wave of Narangorn it was more of a frightening possibility. What if the Mates were under siege all night? What then? The Narangorn would have the advantage before the swiftest Patrolman could change their battery.

Clicks and screeching. Those were the noises aside from hip transmodules that squawked with ignored update requests. Kickers flashed and Narangorn died.

Then, suddenly, the violence stopped.

The Narangorn ceased their rush. All fell quiet. No flashes. No clicks. The only casualties were the foul creatures.

"No one relax yet," Nard said. "Stealth is their prime tactic. If we lapse they may strike again."

The Mates stood stoic and still, Kickers still aimed. Their breath snaked out in the chilly air.

Slowly, with one hand still pointing his Kicker, Nard raised his transmodule.

"HQ, this is Commander Nard. We have just undergone a..."

Nard aimed his Kicker.

It didn't fire.

The purple demon was a blur. The other Mates responded with clicks and flashes.

All missed.

The Narangorn swiped its yellow claw.

Nard's world went dark.

****

It had been the last. No more Narangorn came that night.

Commander Nard of the Shadow Patrol's Eastern Wingspan was declared dead at the scene, cut in half by a single Narangorn claw. He had died instantly and painlessly.

His funeral was a crowded affair. His family, including his mother, father and brothers traveled from southern Corina to say their tearful farewells. Ocolla cried throughout the entire service.

Etaeli played a solo musical number. Afterward, all of Nard's friends and family were invited to say a few words. Pre spoke the most of Nard, as did Ulily, the former Commander, who had forced himself to sober up for the occasion. Qeirc wowed everyone with a stirring speech. No one could argue that dwarves were not artists of words.

After the funeral, Nard was lowered into the ground and buried. And dusk had not set in before whispers started. People talked of Nard disappearing after patrols, and how sometimes his empty pod would be spotted next to a forest impossible to squeeze into, so tight were those trees. The City Guard had even been called on a few occasions and sent out to investigate. But when Nard would reappear the next evening as if nothing had happened, the matter was always dropped.

When Etaeli returned home from the funeral, he wept a fresh flood of tears.

He scrounged for a fresh sheet of paper and then shoved large and heavy book off his table to create space.

The title of the book was Forbidus Magik Compendium II. Etaeli had been reading up on the dangerous art of polymorphory, and had possessed this volume for quite some time.

He'd lied to his departed friend. But the late Nard had no magical capacity whatsoever, and therefore no means to bear or control such potent power. Beyond that, the actual spell would have been horribly unpleasant for both Nard and his nymph.

Seeing that book made Etaeli cry again. When he regained his composure, he alleviated his grief by scribbling verse and music notes.

This would be called "She of the Forest," he decided.

****

The glowflies danced a dizzying waltz, zipping in all directions. Fien wiped tears from her eyes.

"Sir Nard," she sobbed. "Oh, my dear Sir Nard!"

The trees had brought her news of his death, and of the danger he'd been in moments before the fatal blow. Fien, only having control over her own forest realm, could do nothing to help him. Her abilities did not extend past her borders.

She'd been devastated and had shied away from seeing the vision. Fien's kind rarely trusted sentients enough to allow them close. Nard had been different. His heart was so clear and clean that Fien had invited him in. She regretted not a moment of it.

One glowfly separated itself from the wild dance and drifted to the weeping nymph.

It steadily glowed brighter and brighter, expanding its light radius to distances impossible for glowflies. Soon it was a white ball, and then the size of a melon. Suddenly it blew up with a brilliant radiance.

The light cleared and there was Nard. He was nude, devoid of the Shadow Patrol armor he was buried in.

Fien smiled. Her tears had not been of grief or loss, but joy and anticipation. She'd known her Sir Nard was on his way.

Nard studied his hands and supernatural form for a long time.

"So, what they say about glowflies is true," he said.

"Some, but not all glowflies," Fien answered with happiness. "They are merely the form lost souls take."

She embraced the bewildered spirit and rested her head on his shoulder. "Sir Nard, that was not to be your end. It was your beginning. And as in life, you are free to come and go as you please."

Nard returned the embrace. "I've already decided. I'm not going anywhere. If this is what I am, then this is where I'm staying, Fien. Until the end of your days."

"My days have no end," Fien whispered with her eyes closed. "So long as the forest remains, so shall I."

"But what about Shadows?" Nard asked with worry. He stepped back from her and surveyed his surroundings.

Fien shook her head. "Oh Sir Nard, have you ever wondered why your Mates never patrolled here? This forest repels Shadows."

"I wondered," Nard said. 'But I never understood."

"You know of the name Adwaybeth, correct?"

"Of course," Nard replied. "Adwaybeth of the three original creators. The others built Fenza and its sun. Adwaybeth planted the seeds that sprouted the Elves. That's why they call her the Elven Mother. When Hell brought its Demons to Fenza, Adwaybeth died fighting them."

Realization hit him. "The Elves...buried her."

"They buried her here," Fien revealed. "Her divine essence crept into all the life. To this day, millenia later, she continues influencing this place. Thus, not a speck of Shadow shall ever invade this realm. As all for other negative influences, that is in my power to wield away."

The news was so thrilling that Nard teared up. "So forever, then."

"And evermore," Fien added.

Nard gave the nymph a blazing kiss. It filled his body with warmth and tenderness.

It also stimulated other areas.

Nard was astonished by his swelling prick. "Everything...still functions?"

Fien grinned that wicked smirk that in life brought Nard's lust to a boil. And still did.

"Perhaps you would care to try and see?" the nymph offered.

It was unclear who went for the other first. Fien leaped and wrapped her legs around Nard's waist. The impact knocked him to the forest floor. Within seconds she had mounted him and he was inside her, savoring every sensation of tightness, dampness, and pleasure. Just as quickly they both arrived at shuddering climaxes.

Fien had her hands on a tree trunk, bent over while Nard wildly rampaged in and out of her.

The forest critters awakened in a harmonious chorus. The glowflies danced and the treetops swayed.

When dawn broke, blanketing the forest with spreading morning light, it did not separate them.

THE END.