Forest Spirit Read online



  Forest

  Spirit

  Marc Van Pelt

  Copyright © 2011 Marc Van Pelt

  All Rights Reserved

  For everyone that urged me to take a chance and give it a try.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’d just like to give a quick thanks to all my family and friends who have helped me and supported me. I’d like to single out my cousin Megan who edited for me to fix some pretty crummy spelling and grammar, my brother Tommy for listening to my story ideas and helping me with the creative process. Most of all, thanks to my wife Tara for her support and for putting up with me.

  Big brothers must be the dumbest, most horrible, most evil creatures in the whole world of Mundial. Even the Lich Lords of the Eastern Wastes would shudder at the pains and torments older brothers inflicted on younger brothers. Of course it would be Almas’ luck to get the all time worst.

  Almas Aguerius was sure that his brother, Cree Tanis Aguerius (Almas just referred to him as Creetan), had spent his first four years of life torturing cats, learning the art of being mean and dreaming of the day he’d have a little brother to make cry. It was probably best that Almas didn’t remember anything before he turned three because if they were anything like the next 5, than they were most likely filled with warfare just as intense as the battles their father was involved with during his wars with the undead.

  Sure when he was a baby Almas probably didn’t cut holes in the back of all of Creetan’s pants to get back at him for breaking his favorite toy horse but they couldn’t have gotten along nearly as well as their mother always claimed. There was no getting along with Creetan, you could only endure him.

  Almas blamed his brother for the trouble he was in now. All he had wanted was an apple from the apple tree, but Almas was too short to even reach the lowest branches. Then Creetan had the nerve to sneak up on him and scare him out of his wits. Then to make things worse, rather then help him get an apple, he decides to climb up the tree, eat some apples, and call him a coward and a baby.

  Now because of that, Almas was the most tired, cold, scared, and -- worst of all -- completely lost that he had ever been in the eight years of his life.

  All he had wanted to do was spend some time in Aguerius Forest alone to prove to that 12-year-old pigheaded monster, who had somehow tricked his parents into thinking he was their first-born son, that he was not a coward.

  He had gotten the idea when he had gone to the riverbank to sulk He had noticed a blue bird in a tree looking at him and had wondered if the Forest Spirit of Aguerius Forest ever had to deal with a stupid older brother. He had never been sure if there was a forest spirit – after all it was only a legend that the adults talked about, and adults had a bad habit of trying to trick children into believing absurd things. When he had asked his father he had only said that many legends are based in truth so some of it might be true.

  The legend was that it was cared for by a forest spirit who protected both man and beast that entered into it. Since there were no stories of anybody being attacked by wild animals in the forest. That’s what gave the idea to Almas to go spend the day in the forest. He had decided that it was his best chance to show Creetan how brave he really was. After all, even a safe forest could be scary when you’re by yourself -- couldn’t it? So after waking and eating breakfast the next day he had told his mother that he was going to play outside. Then when no one was looking he went right into the green wood.

  The day had started out great; the sun was sending bright light through the branches of the great and mighty trees. Birds were chirping happy songs while the bushes seemed to almost make way for him, almost inviting him into the forest. It was by far the most beautiful place he had ever seen. It was thick with green leaves and flowers on every surface. Also there were animals every where from chipmunks and insects to deer and elk. After a few hours Almas decided that he had been out long enough to show Creetan who was brave. Not to mention he needed to get home before it got dark -- for his mother’s peace of mind, of course.

  It was then he realized that he had no idea which way home was. Picking the direction he was sure would at least take him to the river that he could follow home, he had set off at what he meant to be a nice easy trot, but ended up more like one that resembled a deer being followed closely by a pack of wolves.

  It was shortly after this that things began to go wrong for him. The friendly forest seemed to change with every step. First the friendly songs of the birds stopped, followed by the trees reaching out and blocking the light of the sun with their branches, while the bushes and shrubs began to grab and claw at him as he tried to find his way home. From time to time the forest seemed to play a game where it would start to brighten and give Almas hope, only to destroy it by suddenly becoming darker and more menacing.

  It was just as the sun was beginning to set that Almas learned where he was. He stepped out into a clearing to find the site of an old battlefield. The clearing was mostly dead earth with clumps of tall, brown grass scattered about much the same as the instruments of war that littered the field. Everywhere he looked he could see armor and weapons of all sorts. He realized as he looked among broken swords and shields that he was on the completely wrong side of the forest. His father had told him how 75 years ago his great grandfather had led the king’s army against the Lich Lords and drove them to the eastern wastes, and that the battle had taken place on the other side of the forest.

  First he hesitated. The place was spooky and Almas was scared enough as it was. But curiosity in the objects littering the ground overcame his fear and he entered the field. He began to wander around and study the relics of a battle long past. Why had no one claimed these treasures? As eerie as the place was, he had to take a look at some of these artifacts. Was that a real ruby in the hilt of that sword? The metal it was embedded in looked like gold! If he brought something expensive home maybe his mother wouldn’t kill him for being late. At least he’d be able to make Creetan jealous.

  For a moment he was so lost in his curiosity that he forgot about being lost and scared. But then as he was looking at a helmet in the tall grass that looked like it might have a diamond embedded in the front he felt something odd under his foot. Searching the ground where he had stood he saw a small, gold chain partially hidden in the ground. He pulled the chain from the ground and found a small pendant attached to it. The pendant was round and somewhat flat, and like the chain, was made of gold. There was also a green gem embedded in the center of it.

  As Almas looked over the pendant, he wondered how much something like this would be worth. The last thing he expected was an answer to his unspoken question.

  I am what you would call priceless.

  “Who said that?” Almas yelped as he searched in all directions for the source of the voice.

  I did you fool. You’re holding me, came the reply.

  Almas looked down at the pendant. Was the pendant speaking to him?

  Idiot child, of course I’m speaking to you. Do you see anyone else around?

  At that moment Almas realized that the voice he heard was only in his own head. Almas stared at the pendant and asked, “What are you?”

  I am Lightbringer, a powerful fielis. Figures that I would be found by an ignorant, runny-nosed human child… An Aguerius at that, by the looks of the symbol on your crest.

  Almas looked at his crest hanging on his neck that bore his family’s symbols. How could this thing see it and what was a fielis? Almas thought he had heard that word before but couldn’t remember where he heard it or what he had heard about it. He was about to ask more but the thing called Lightbringer spoke first.

  You don’t have to speak out loud; I can hear your thoughts just fine. But explaining
these things to you probably doesn’t matter since I don’t expect for you to escape this place alive. Do me a favor and put me down. I really hate getting eaten along with fools -- even if the slime behind you doesn’t get you then the forest dragon that claims this land will surely track you down. He hates intruders. Few grave robbers that have come here have escaped. If you do survive, send someone back worthy to hold my greatness.

  Almas turned around and, sure enough, not far behind him was a big, slug-like blob about the size of a large cat. He had never seen a slime before but had heard that they were boneless creatures that could spray a stream of acid five feet away. The acid was used to dissolve its food before eating it and to defend itself from predators. They certainly didn’t live in his family’s forest; it was yet another reminder that he was far from where he was supposed to be.

  This gray colored slime seemed to be eating an old shield, and Almas decided there was no point in sticking around and handing it an easier-to-eat dessert. If the pendant wanted to stay that was fine with him. He dropped Lightbringer, cutting off the pendant’s maniacal laugh and ran back into the forest.

  Almas wasn’t sure how long he had been running. Ten minutes? Thirty? He just knew he needed to put as much space between himself and that field as he could, yet when he tripped as he passed through a dense grove of trees he knew he couldn’t get up. His legs felt dead and his chest felt like it was on fire. By now it was completely dark and all Almas could do was focus on breathing.

  Rolling on his back he cried and cried till he heard a strange sound. Looking up he saw in the tree a songbird singing to him. At least he was pretty sure it was to him. It seemed to look right at him. The song reminded him of a song his Uncle Marpel used to play on a harp to help him and his brothers and sister go to sleep. He had always accused his uncle of casting a music spell on him, as bards like his uncle were known to do, but tonight he would’ve welcomed the peace his uncle’s music would have brought. Slowly the fire in his chest went away and he felt that he could breathe again. He knew he should get up and get moving again, but he just didn’t have the strength. He quickly faded off to sleep.

  As he slept he dreamed of home. He dreamed of his mother tucking him in for the night and singing gently to him. It was a nice dream and Almas slept peaceably and warm well into the morning.

  Almas awoke with a start to the sound of the songbird chirping and fluttering its wings in obvious panic. He found himself under a blanket of tall grass which he didn’t remember being there the night before. Searching for the cause of the bird’s agitation he sat himself up to find the same gray slime from the evening before right next to his feet. At least he was fairly certain it was the same slime; part of the slime’s body had expanded and shaped itself into a small tendril that was holding the magic pendant that had called itself Lightbringer.

  Almas quickly began crawling backwards but only went a couple of feet before hitting his head hard on a tree. Before Almas could make any movements, a stream of acid shot right past him and the tree that his back was to. Almost instantly a large roar filled the air behind him and Almas felt something big crash into the tree he was against. Rolling away from both the slime and whatever the slime had just attacked, Almas decided that if anyone wanted to question his courage they were welcomed to do it. He just prayed to whatever gods might be listening that he could get home alive; he didn’t care what names his brother called him. Looking to the tree he had rolled away from, he saw a forest dragon that was franticly dragging its head on the ground as it tried to scrape off the burning acid from its face.

  Forest dragons were small for dragons and had no wings, but still twice the size of a large bear. They were colored green and brown to blend in better with the forest. Almas had seen many forest dragons before -- many warriors used them as war mounts, his own father included -- but this one was nothing like the tamed ones he knew. First, this was the biggest one he’d ever seen; second, this one was now looking at Almas with what seemed a mixture of hunger and anger.

  Almas knew he should be running but his legs betrayed him and refused to move. The forest dragon took a step towards him but another stream of acid shot right in front of the beast. Almas glanced at the slime. Was it actually moving between him and the dragon?

  The dragon eyed the slime, then Almas, then back to the slime. It seemed the dragon was deciding if Almas would make a meal worth the sting of the slime’s acid. After a short eternity the dragon suddenly looked off to the left and emitted a low growl. Almas turned to discover, to his great shock, an older boy, perhaps just a little younger than his brother Creetan, standing between two trees. He had light brown hair and stood only a couple inches taller than Almas himself. He wore brown and green clothes and had nothing on his feet. While it was clear the boy was a child, it was also clear the boy wasn’t human -- his ears were more pointed on top.

  The blue-eyed boy stared at the dragon and the dragon stared back. Then suddenly the dragon charged him. The boy just continued to stare the charging beast in the eyes and at the last minute jumped and planted his bare feet on the trunk of the tree next to him, took two steps up the tree trunk and grabbed onto a branch. The dragon, unable to slow down, passed right under the boy who dropped onto the dragon’s back, then did a front-flip off it and landed right next to the slime. As the dragon turned and once again charged, the boy quickly took Lightbringer from the slime and held it up to the charging dragon.

  “Don’t look directly at the pendant!” he yelled.

  Almas wasn’t sure why he needed to look away but decided to trust the boy. He turned his face away just as the pendant exploded with bright light. Even looking away from the light everything was so bright that Almas threw his arm over his eyes to protect them.

  The light dimmed and, as Almas blinked the after-image of the light from his eyes, he heard the sound of the dragon crashing through the forest away from them. Soon the sound of roaring and trees being knocked over faded. The boy continued to stare in the direction the dragon went for a few moments longer, then walked over to Almas and collapsed against the tree next to him. Only now did Almas realize how out of breath the boy was.

  “Do you…(gasp)…have any idea…(gasp)…how much trouble you’ve caused me…(gasp)…these last couple days? That dragon is a lunatic about protecting his territory, which includes the old battlefield. It picked up your scent and tracked you down. I had to sprint for the last 20 minutes and still almost didn’t make it in time.”

  Almas just stared at the boy. “Are you a forest spirit?”

  “No, I’m an elf.”

  “Why do they say there is a forest spirit here then?”

  “There is what people believe and then there is the truth.”

  The boy stood up and walked over to the slime; he removed his shoulder bag and scooped the slime into it. Putting the shoulder bag back on he added, “We should get going before Grumpy gets his eyesight back and comes back for breakfast. I don’t think he believed me when I said my father was nearby.”

  “I didn’t hear you tell it anything.”

  “I don’t need to talk out loud to speak to the animals and plants of the forest,” the boy answered as he wrapped Lightbringer in a cloth and placed it in his pocket. “Now come on; I’ll take you home.”

  Almas eyed the pocket the boy had put Lightbringer in. “That thing is bad.”

  “Lightbringer is bitter, selfish, and annoying but like all of his kind, harmless to those who hold him. Now let’s get going.”

  Almas stood up and followed the boy who started walking away. “My name is Almas Aguerius.”

  “I know.”

  “How?”

  “Little happens in or near this forest that I don’t know about, not to mention your family has been protecting my family since they settled this area. It was my father who gave this forest to your family.”

  “But my family has owned this forest for a hundred years! How old are you?”

  “One hundred and nineteen
.”

  “That’s older than my father!”

  The boy laughed, “Much older.”

  “What’s your name?” Almas asked as they started walking.

  “Just call me Ulec.”