Chapter 81: 81
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The Great Forest is much busier than the last time I found myself wandering it's perimeters- which isn't to say much, as the last time I was here was when I was battling Soren with rioting flame creatures whilst simultaneously trying to keep myself alive and very un-bitten- look how well that turned out. So even if there had been lonesome creatures stalking through the long shadows of the trees that night looking for fresh meat and the spoils of another hunter's meal, I would hardly have been aware of them. On the back of my horse, I laugh to myself.
Funny how Soren always manages to pinpoint himself as the focus of attention.
As the lantern lit pathway becomes darker the further we descend into the forest and the muffled buzz and clamour of a hard at work city fades to a diluted hum, I slow my horse to a trot, easing on the reins as I lean forward to soothe the horse, clapping my hand reassuringly on the side of its neck.
"We are going to have to leave the main path soon," I call to Ithuriel, who stops to plop himself down on his white, furry haunches, sniffing the air hesitantly to detect the likeness of a vampire's scent on the wind. Upon the swift lowering of his head, I can only deduce he has found none. A hazy rustling in the bushes of the undergrowth catches our attention with a swift snap of our heads in unison towards the noise.
"Doggy!" calls a little pixie suddenly, who scuttles out from a hollow under the roots of a small pine with a burst of life, apparelled in a lavender tulip dress, her plump cheeks rosy, face alight, as she collides with Ithuriel, looping her hands around his neck and pressing her nose into his fur, squishing up against him. Ithuriel grunts, eyes bulging as he nearly topples over, and I cover my hand to stifle the brewings of a laugh. One pixie alone probably would have been fine, except there are, I notice with a sudden widening of my eyes, at least five more that scurry out from the hole like ferrets after a rabbit, leaping over each other and chanting in rhythmic synchronisation:
"Doggy! Doggy! Doggy!"
Within moments Ithuriel gets completely swamped.
He glares up at me through his two toned eyes, disdain swimming into their murky pits, his tail bashing against the ground in obvious agitation.
A little help, Serena?
He urges in my mind, the irritation in his voice growing more and more pronounced with the addition of every hand that claws at his fur and the round, rosy faces that swim about him in uncaring joy. Ithuriel whines again. I offer him a cheeky smirk, flicking my finger down towards the pixies and shocking the ground with a burst of fire which quickly transforms into an identical blazing fox that skitters down the dirt path, losing itself in the thickets of the forest. The pixies squeal in delight, pointing stubby little fingers and waving each other over, tailing the fire fox in hot pursuit, quickly dismissing any interest for Ithuriel without so much as a second glance.
Young pixies never did have the greatest attention span.
I dismount my horse and offer him a taunting bow.
Ithuriel snarls lightly, rolling his eyes in an uncomfortably human way- that is for a little fox.
Well I am glad Soren has taught you something useful, Ithuriel sighs a little sarcastically in my mind, plodding up to me to sit by my side, nose twitching and chest heaving from the sudden rush of adrenaline that was brought about by the onslaught of cuddles and squealing pixies.
"Well, excuse me," I joke out loud, leading my horse to a nearby sturdy tree and winding the rope around the trunk a few times, tying it in place then ensuring its security with a firm tug. The reins hold tight. "Perhaps I should have let them pander over you a little longer if you are going to be like that,"
I can't be sure through the dim light trickling in through the dense canopy of trees, but I swear I see Ithuriel's small fox body shudder.
"Last time I went in to the end I went north from here," I say slowly, changing the subject now as I pat my horse a temporary goodbye, setting down some carrots and greenery from my sachet- just in case we aren't back until late, and hoping against hope that the devilish pixies would be well enough away not to come back and steal them. There is no way a horse could get through the great forest easily, not with the compactness of the trees, and the lethal bramble bushes which only serve to skewer the tender flesh of all those who pass it. At least, I think reluctantly to myself, we wouldn't be able to get through with a horse without some serious drawbacks.
I glance up to the sky, shielding my eyes against the rays of sun that have wormed their way through the layers of leaves that encompass the sky above us in a dome of branches and greenery, and after some deliberation, decide the sun has just gone halfway across the sky.
"We haven't got long," I press, shouldering my sachet as I begin to hike off the pathway, leaving behind my horse and the comfort of the flickering lanterns that dot down the road like the bright luminescence of fairy dust, plunging myself instead headfirst into the false darkness of the forest that even the fervent rays of daytime have difficulty penetrating.
Ithuriel's voice trails me into the blackened forest.
I can't smell any vampires around, which is good, we should not run into any unwanted issues. But Serena, Ithuriel adds, scampering over piles of fallen leaves and spiky twigs to keep level with my footfalls, the beginnings of worry creeping into the edges of his voice. I shoot a quizzical look downwards to where he scampers at my heels.
"Mm?" I murmur my response, not keen on wasting much needed breath as I continue striving forward, deeper into the black depths of the forest, conscious that speaking would cause me to slow and lose the precious time I so desperately need.
There is something you need to know about Fangorn.
He insists, urgently enough that I am drawn to spare him yet another puzzled glance. We continue on, half running past bushes of thick, lush bracken, plump red berry bushes that practically ooze with mouth watering juices that promise to delight the senses with their wonderful flavour, and several groups of Faey folk who- in the amiable state of daytime, wave and graciously nod their regards as we pass them.
"Okay?" I say, my breath beginning to catch in my lungs for the first time, sharp and stinging with each inhale, slowing my pace under its unwanted influence. But time would wait for no one- and neither would the creatures of the end, I cannot afford to be slow. Immediately, I quicken my pace.
Ithuriel's embittered voice pricks at my mind:
Fangorn was Soren's leading general in his army against our kind, according to his diary. This was about four hundred or so years ago now, they have known each other for a very long time.
My mouth sours with a sudden and unpleasant staleness.
"That's not good." I mutter, shaking my head as I duck under a low lying tree branch and past a little squirrel who, on sight of Ithuriel, quickly skitters up a tree with fearful urgency, spraying us with off-shed pieces of bark. I spit crumbled pieces of bark from my mouth, disgusted.
"Who is to say he won't help us and be sympathetic to Soren if they know each other so well? What reason do we have to trust his word?" I relent, throwing up my hands with a twinge of frustration.
Ithuriel nods his head lightly in understanding.
Yes but you see, Soren cast Fangorn out of Sezeria some two hundred years ago.
I bite my lip.
"But he was the leading general? What the hell did he do?" I cry a little too loudly, exasperated and equally confused, my voice ringing out through the trees, sending birds screaming into the sky, scattering leaves from the grounds in a riotous upheaval. Wincing inwardly, I mutter quieter now:
"What can a vampire general do to get himself cast out? It must be pretty bad."
Ithuriel growls his confirmation as he bounds ahead, foraging artfully through the undergrowth with a series of dodges and weaves as he avoids the ample claws of brambles that hunger for flesh, and for a brief moment, I lose him in the impenetrable gloom. Then he appears out a few meters away in a patch of lonesome sunshine, basking in the warmth as he perches on top of a rock, smugly enjoying the few free seconds of relaxation his nimble feet have granted him.
In terms of vampire rules, Fangorn messed up pretty bad. Ithuriel explains, wagging his tail impatiently while I struggle to catch up, my chest feeling tight and heavy with the effort of jumping my way over sullen puddles, and vaulting myself over the stray logs that has come crashing down from prior wind, or viscous storm. Against the my protesting muscles and the screaming for air in my chest, I shoot Ithuriel a sharp look. Ithuriel doesn't seem to notice.
He fought many wars against the angels, and was the perfect general- that is until the time came where he fell in love with an angel.
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The Great Forest is much busier than the last time I found myself wandering it's perimeters- which isn't to say much, as the last time I was here was when I was battling Soren with rioting flame creatures whilst simultaneously trying to keep myself alive and very un-bitten- look how well that turned out. So even if there had been lonesome creatures stalking through the long shadows of the trees that night looking for fresh meat and the spoils of another hunter's meal, I would hardly have been aware of them. On the back of my horse, I laugh to myself.
Funny how Soren always manages to pinpoint himself as the focus of attention.
As the lantern lit pathway becomes darker the further we descend into the forest and the muffled buzz and clamour of a hard at work city fades to a diluted hum, I slow my horse to a trot, easing on the reins as I lean forward to soothe the horse, clapping my hand reassuringly on the side of its neck.
"We are going to have to leave the main path soon," I call to Ithuriel, who stops to plop himself down on his white, furry haunches, sniffing the air hesitantly to detect the likeness of a vampire's scent on the wind. Upon the swift lowering of his head, I can only deduce he has found none. A hazy rustling in the bushes of the undergrowth catches our attention with a swift snap of our heads in unison towards the noise.
"Doggy!" calls a little pixie suddenly, who scuttles out from a hollow under the roots of a small pine with a burst of life, apparelled in a lavender tulip dress, her plump cheeks rosy, face alight, as she collides with Ithuriel, looping her hands around his neck and pressing her nose into his fur, squishing up against him. Ithuriel grunts, eyes bulging as he nearly topples over, and I cover my hand to stifle the brewings of a laugh. One pixie alone probably would have been fine, except there are, I notice with a sudden widening of my eyes, at least five more that scurry out from the hole like ferrets after a rabbit, leaping over each other and chanting in rhythmic synchronisation:
"Doggy! Doggy! Doggy!"
Within moments Ithuriel gets completely swamped.
He glares up at me through his two toned eyes, disdain swimming into their murky pits, his tail bashing against the ground in obvious agitation.
A little help, Serena?
He urges in my mind, the irritation in his voice growing more and more pronounced with the addition of every hand that claws at his fur and the round, rosy faces that swim about him in uncaring joy. Ithuriel whines again. I offer him a cheeky smirk, flicking my finger down towards the pixies and shocking the ground with a burst of fire which quickly transforms into an identical blazing fox that skitters down the dirt path, losing itself in the thickets of the forest. The pixies squeal in delight, pointing stubby little fingers and waving each other over, tailing the fire fox in hot pursuit, quickly dismissing any interest for Ithuriel without so much as a second glance.
Young pixies never did have the greatest attention span.
I dismount my horse and offer him a taunting bow.
Ithuriel snarls lightly, rolling his eyes in an uncomfortably human way- that is for a little fox.
Well I am glad Soren has taught you something useful, Ithuriel sighs a little sarcastically in my mind, plodding up to me to sit by my side, nose twitching and chest heaving from the sudden rush of adrenaline that was brought about by the onslaught of cuddles and squealing pixies.
"Well, excuse me," I joke out loud, leading my horse to a nearby sturdy tree and winding the rope around the trunk a few times, tying it in place then ensuring its security with a firm tug. The reins hold tight. "Perhaps I should have let them pander over you a little longer if you are going to be like that,"
I can't be sure through the dim light trickling in through the dense canopy of trees, but I swear I see Ithuriel's small fox body shudder.
"Last time I went in to the end I went north from here," I say slowly, changing the subject now as I pat my horse a temporary goodbye, setting down some carrots and greenery from my sachet- just in case we aren't back until late, and hoping against hope that the devilish pixies would be well enough away not to come back and steal them. There is no way a horse could get through the great forest easily, not with the compactness of the trees, and the lethal bramble bushes which only serve to skewer the tender flesh of all those who pass it. At least, I think reluctantly to myself, we wouldn't be able to get through with a horse without some serious drawbacks.
I glance up to the sky, shielding my eyes against the rays of sun that have wormed their way through the layers of leaves that encompass the sky above us in a dome of branches and greenery, and after some deliberation, decide the sun has just gone halfway across the sky.
"We haven't got long," I press, shouldering my sachet as I begin to hike off the pathway, leaving behind my horse and the comfort of the flickering lanterns that dot down the road like the bright luminescence of fairy dust, plunging myself instead headfirst into the false darkness of the forest that even the fervent rays of daytime have difficulty penetrating.
Ithuriel's voice trails me into the blackened forest.
I can't smell any vampires around, which is good, we should not run into any unwanted issues. But Serena, Ithuriel adds, scampering over piles of fallen leaves and spiky twigs to keep level with my footfalls, the beginnings of worry creeping into the edges of his voice. I shoot a quizzical look downwards to where he scampers at my heels.
"Mm?" I murmur my response, not keen on wasting much needed breath as I continue striving forward, deeper into the black depths of the forest, conscious that speaking would cause me to slow and lose the precious time I so desperately need.
There is something you need to know about Fangorn.
He insists, urgently enough that I am drawn to spare him yet another puzzled glance. We continue on, half running past bushes of thick, lush bracken, plump red berry bushes that practically ooze with mouth watering juices that promise to delight the senses with their wonderful flavour, and several groups of Faey folk who- in the amiable state of daytime, wave and graciously nod their regards as we pass them.
"Okay?" I say, my breath beginning to catch in my lungs for the first time, sharp and stinging with each inhale, slowing my pace under its unwanted influence. But time would wait for no one- and neither would the creatures of the end, I cannot afford to be slow. Immediately, I quicken my pace.
Ithuriel's embittered voice pricks at my mind:
Fangorn was Soren's leading general in his army against our kind, according to his diary. This was about four hundred or so years ago now, they have known each other for a very long time.
My mouth sours with a sudden and unpleasant staleness.
"That's not good." I mutter, shaking my head as I duck under a low lying tree branch and past a little squirrel who, on sight of Ithuriel, quickly skitters up a tree with fearful urgency, spraying us with off-shed pieces of bark. I spit crumbled pieces of bark from my mouth, disgusted.
"Who is to say he won't help us and be sympathetic to Soren if they know each other so well? What reason do we have to trust his word?" I relent, throwing up my hands with a twinge of frustration.
Ithuriel nods his head lightly in understanding.
Yes but you see, Soren cast Fangorn out of Sezeria some two hundred years ago.
I bite my lip.
"But he was the leading general? What the hell did he do?" I cry a little too loudly, exasperated and equally confused, my voice ringing out through the trees, sending birds screaming into the sky, scattering leaves from the grounds in a riotous upheaval. Wincing inwardly, I mutter quieter now:
"What can a vampire general do to get himself cast out? It must be pretty bad."
Ithuriel growls his confirmation as he bounds ahead, foraging artfully through the undergrowth with a series of dodges and weaves as he avoids the ample claws of brambles that hunger for flesh, and for a brief moment, I lose him in the impenetrable gloom. Then he appears out a few meters away in a patch of lonesome sunshine, basking in the warmth as he perches on top of a rock, smugly enjoying the few free seconds of relaxation his nimble feet have granted him.
In terms of vampire rules, Fangorn messed up pretty bad. Ithuriel explains, wagging his tail impatiently while I struggle to catch up, my chest feeling tight and heavy with the effort of jumping my way over sullen puddles, and vaulting myself over the stray logs that has come crashing down from prior wind, or viscous storm. Against the my protesting muscles and the screaming for air in my chest, I shoot Ithuriel a sharp look. Ithuriel doesn't seem to notice.
He fought many wars against the angels, and was the perfect general- that is until the time came where he fell in love with an angel.
The Great Forest is much busier than the last time I found myself wandering it's perimeters- which isn't to say much, as the last time I was here was when I was battling Soren with rioting flame creatures whilst simultaneously trying to keep myself alive and very un-bitten- look how well that turned out. So even if there had been lonesome creatures stalking through the long shadows of the trees that night looking for fresh meat and the spoils of another hunter's meal, I would hardly have been aware of them. On the back of my horse, I laugh to myself.Funny how Soren always manages to pinpoint himself as the focus of attention.As the lantern lit pathway becomes darker the further we descend into the forest and the muffled buzz and clamour of a hard at work city fades to a diluted hum, I slow my horse to a trot, easing on the reins as I lean forward to soothe the horse, clapping my hand reassuringly on the side of its neck. "We are going to have to leave the main path soon," I call to Ithuriel, who stops to plop himself down on his white, furry haunches, sniffing the air hesitantly to detect the likeness of a vampire's scent on the wind. Upon the swift lowering of his head, I can only deduce he has found none. A hazy rustling in the bushes of the undergrowth catches our attention with a swift snap of our heads in unison towards the noise."Doggy!" calls a little pixie suddenly, who scuttles out from a hollow under the roots of a small pine with a burst of life, apparelled in a lavender tulip dress, her plump cheeks rosy, face alight, as she collides with Ithuriel, looping her hands around his neck and pressing her nose into his fur, squishing up against him. Ithuriel grunts, eyes bulging as he nearly topples over, and I cover my hand to stifle the brewings of a laugh. One pixie alone probably would have been fine, except there are, I notice with a sudden widening of my eyes, at least five more that scurry out from the hole like ferrets after a rabbit, leaping over each other and chanting in rhythmic synchronisation:"Doggy! Doggy! Doggy!"Within moments Ithuriel gets completely swamped. He glares up at me through his two toned eyes, disdain swimming into their murky pits, his tail bashing against the ground in obvious agitation.A little help, Serena?He urges in my mind, the irritation in his voice growing more and more pronounced with the addition of every hand that claws at his fur and the round, rosy faces that swim about him in uncaring joy. Ithuriel whines again. I offer him a cheeky smirk, flicking my finger down towards the pixies and shocking the ground with a burst of fire which quickly transforms into an identical blazing fox that skitters down the dirt path, losing itself in the thickets of the forest. The pixies squeal in delight, pointing stubby little fingers and waving each other over, tailing the fire fox in hot pursuit, quickly dismissing any interest for Ithuriel without so much as a second glance.Young pixies never did have the greatest attention span.I dismount my horse and offer him a taunting bow.Ithuriel snarls lightly, rolling his eyes in an uncomfortably human way- that is for a little fox.Well I am glad Soren has taught you something useful, Ithuriel sighs a little sarcastically in my mind, plodding up to me to sit by my side, nose twitching and chest heaving from the sudden rush of adrenaline that was brought about by the onslaught of cuddles and squealing pixies."Well, excuse me," I joke out loud, leading my horse to a nearby sturdy tree and winding the rope around the trunk a few times, tying it in place then ensuring its security with a firm tug. The reins hold tight. "Perhaps I should have let them pander over you a little longer if you are going to be like that,"I can't be sure through the dim light trickling in through the dense canopy of trees, but I swear I see Ithuriel's small fox body shudder. "Last time I went in to the end I went north from here," I say slowly, changing the subject now as I pat my horse a temporary goodbye, setting down some carrots and greenery from my sachet- just in case we aren't back until late, and hoping against hope that the devilish pixies would be well enough away not to come back and steal them. There is no way a horse could get through the great forest easily, not with the compactness of the trees, and the lethal bramble bushes which only serve to skewer the tender flesh of all those who pass it. At least, I think reluctantly to myself, we wouldn't be able to get through with a horse without some serious drawbacks.I glance up to the sky, shielding my eyes against the rays of sun that have wormed their way through the layers of leaves that encompass the sky above us in a dome of branches and greenery, and after some deliberation, decide the sun has just gone halfway across the sky."We haven't got long," I press, shouldering my sachet as I begin to hike off the pathway, leaving behind my horse and the comfort of the flickering lanterns that dot down the road like the bright luminescence of fairy dust, plunging myself instead headfirst into the false darkness of the forest that even the fervent rays of daytime have difficulty penetrating. Ithuriel's voice trails me into the blackened forest.I can't smell any vampires around, which is good, we should not run into any unwanted issues. But Serena, Ithuriel adds, scampering over piles of fallen leaves and spiky twigs to keep level with my footfalls, the beginnings of worry creeping into the edges of his voice. I shoot a quizzical look downwards to where he scampers at my heels."Mm?" I murmur my response, not keen on wasting much needed breath as I continue striving forward, deeper into the black depths of the forest, conscious that speaking would cause me to slow and lose the precious time I so desperately need.There is something you need to know about Fangorn. He insists, urgently enough that I am drawn to spare him yet another puzzled glance. We continue on, half running past bushes of thick, lush bracken, plump red berry bushes that practically ooze with mouth watering juices that promise to delight the senses with their wonderful flavour, and several groups of Faey folk who- in the amiable state of daytime, wave and graciously nod their regards as we pass them."Okay?" I say, my breath beginning to catch in my lungs for the first time, sharp and stinging with each inhale, slowing my pace under its unwanted influence. But time would wait for no one- and neither would the creatures of the end, I cannot afford to be slow. Immediately, I quicken my pace.Ithuriel's embittered voice pricks at my mind:Fangorn was Soren's leading general in his army against our kind, according to his diary. This was about four hundred or so years ago now, they have known each other for a very long time.My mouth sours with a sudden and unpleasant staleness. "That's not good." I mutter, shaking my head as I duck under a low lying tree branch and past a little squirrel who, on sight of Ithuriel, quickly skitters up a tree with fearful urgency, spraying us with off-shed pieces of bark. I spit crumbled pieces of bark from my mouth, disgusted. "Who is to say he won't help us and be sympathetic to Soren if they know each other so well? What reason do we have to trust his word?" I relent, throwing up my hands with a twinge of frustration.Ithuriel nods his head lightly in understanding.Yes but you see, Soren cast Fangorn out of Sezeria some two hundred years ago.I bite my lip."But he was the leading general? What the hell did he do?" I cry a little too loudly, exasperated and equally confused, my voice ringing out through the trees, sending birds screaming into the sky, scattering leaves from the grounds in a riotous upheaval. Wincing inwardly, I mutter quieter now:"What can a vampire general do to get himself cast out? It must be pretty bad."Ithuriel growls his confirmation as he bounds ahead, foraging artfully through the undergrowth with a series of dodges and weaves as he avoids the ample claws of brambles that hunger for flesh, and for a brief moment, I lose him in the impenetrable gloom. Then he appears out a few meters away in a patch of lonesome sunshine, basking in the warmth as he perches on top of a rock, smugly enjoying the few free seconds of relaxation his nimble feet have granted him.In terms of vampire rules, Fangorn messed up pretty bad. Ithuriel explains, wagging his tail impatiently while I struggle to catch up, my chest feeling tight and heavy with the effort of jumping my way over sullen puddles, and vaulting myself over the stray logs that has come crashing down from prior wind, or viscous storm. Against the my protesting muscles and the screaming for air in my chest, I shoot Ithuriel a sharp look. Ithuriel doesn't seem to notice.He fought many wars against the angels, and was the perfect general- that is until the time came where he fell in love with an angel.
