Champions of Serenity :Gathering the Circle

Chapter 16

It was much more than just a simple weeping birch; it was a matriarch of its kind in a forest filled with ancient undisturbed trees. Her children numbered the thousands, yet her personal clearing was free of saplings as ferns and other undergrowth had been allowed to grow. Tops of giant roots from the tree stood above the ground showing something of the strength of the anchors this matriarch grew into the fertile soil of the primeval forest. Tris stirred in her sleep and arched her back a moment to relieve some of the tension along her spine. She had fallen asleep between two of the giant roots in a cradle of sorts. A soft laugh above her woke her further and she tried to focus her still tired eyes. This tree was more than a weeping birch and it was much more than a simple tree.

“I did warn you that if you didn’t make sure you were in a comfortable hollow you would get a stiff neck.” Drianne said softly and nudged Tris with a root. “You need to wake up, Peacock; Noshtra said something was in the forest.”

Tris stretched to further ease the cramps in her body before standing. “I had another dream, Drianne, it was the young warrior and he was with the Siblen assassin.” She walked to the stream a few feet away and washed her face with the icy water. Returning to Drianne, she started to braid her waist length hair. “What was that about someone in the forest?”

A dark shadow of a she-wolf slinked around the Dryad’s trunk and sat at Tris’s feet. “Tris, like I told Drianne, there is someone in the forest. I was visiting with Hasha when I heard voices, male voices. They were speaking of someone named Gresh…something and how they were to find the girl and bring her in. The only girl I know living here is you. Neither Hasha nor I liked the smell of these men or the fact that they trampled through without regard for those living here.”

Tris frowned and tied her honey colored hair off with a thong of blue, green, and purple strands. Standing in a single motion, she picked up her sword that was leaning against Drianne and slung a cloak around her slender shoulders. “I wonder if this has anything to do with the dreams I’ve been having lately, of those other seven people scattered across the winds. They are starting to gather together. Well, whether it does or not, I have to go and see who these people are and get them out of our forest.”

Tris stopped and belted her sword around her waist. She didn’t ask for much, just to left alone. The village was protected by her vigilance from the artic beasts coming from the frozen wastes. They respected her privacy and she protected them. And now strangers were coming and invading her home. “How dare anyone trespass like that?” she snapped angrily as she strode off to deal with them.

The she-wolf and Dryad looked at each other and gave their versions of a shrug as the tall girl walked off into the forest. “I don’t like it, Drianne. This smells too much like a trap.”

“With someone like Trisinda, Noshtra, everything is a trap.” Both the she-wolf and the Dryad got comfortable to await the return of their heart-sister, Trisinda Jaqukwen, the prophecy’s Demon Elf.

Shægnek watched as the First was both hunted and the hunter. For a moment, the Demon Elf paused when the First from Earth merged with her. The others hadn’t noticed when they merged with their other halves, but she had known that the First would feel it. She just wondered what the effect would be.

Tris felt someone else join her. It wasn’t like someone taking over her body, but rather adding something to it. A whole new life of experiences flooded through her in just a few seconds as well as having her entire life flood through this new part of her. The other part of her had a name, Debra, and a place of origin, Earth. Tris dropped to her knees and closed her eyes, feeling the pulse beat against her closed lids. She was so different, so strong, yet so soft and yielding. Were the gods toying with her yet again? What did this mean?

The sounds of snapping twigs brought to her the threat of the intruders again. Putting her hand against a nearby tree, she pulled herself up, trying to shut off the new thoughts and feelings to concentrate on the task at hand. She would allow herself the time to understand this new development after the strangers were removed from her home.

She heard the men long before she saw them. For hunters, they were being very careless of not being detected by their prey. But then, they probably didn’t know exactly what they were hunting.

“Are you sure this is where this girl lives? There aren’t any signs of human habitation. In fact, the villagers of that last village said this forest was cursed and no one came here, even to hunt or gather wood. They seemed afraid of this forest and what lives here.”

“I’m sure. Dreybrenic Greshinea said she lived here and this is where we would find her. And I don’t want to nay say anything Greshinea says is so. That isn’t healthy.”

“He did say he wanted her alive if possible. But if we had to kill her, to bring her body with us.”

Tris frowned as she overheard their conversations. Who was this Greshinea person and what did he want with her? And why was it so much healthier to hunt a Demon than go against a human’s wishes? That part of her that was new shuddered at the name Dreybrenic Greshinea as if it knew him and knew he was evil.

Climbing silently to the top boughs of a tree, Tris watched as they passed below her. They didn’t look up or down, they kept scanning the trees and bushes as if she would just appear for their convenience. This bothered her, these were no hunters, these were the bait. Where were the hunters?

Casting her mind out through the woods, she felt the pain of Drianne as poisoned steel bit deep into her tender bark. Tris opened her eyes and saw the world through a green haze as her eyes turned brilliant emerald. She felt the blood in her veins thicken and run white hot as the Demon rage filled her body. Wordlessly, she moved through the trees as easily as the wind and dropped down behind the five men who were taking turns with an axe on Drianne. Noshtra was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t close, the stink of her anger was almost as strong as the green mist clouding Tris’s vision.

An inhuman howl tore from Tris’s throat and the dark blood from the first man added crimson tears to those being wept by the Dryad. She felt the shift of the attention of the warriors to herself and allowed herself to know no more. The Demon blood of her mother filled her so completely; there was no room for rational thought. The same instinct that told her they were attacking her and not Drianne any longer told her when another group of men rose up from the nearby bushes to attempt to ambush her. Somewhere, in the back of the rage, another sat and watched and learned.

Hot blood ran like wine over her tongue and down her throat. In one hand a sword was slick with gore as it sang through the dark uniforms of the men who had dared to invade her home and attack her family. Her other hand was bright red as she used it like a claw and tore out eyes, throats, hearts from those who were too close for the sword to stop. She felt the burn as steel and silver cut into her own flesh, her blood adding the stains on the ground at the feet of Drianne.

The sounds of the fight had alerted the other decoy patrols and they raced for battle, wanting to have part in this slaughter as they had in the slaughters that had taken place in other areas on the orders of Greshinea. Those who had done the most damage had been rewarded handsomely and these men were there for the reward, not the girl. Greshinea wanted the girl, what for, they didn’t know, they didn’t care, they just liked the power and money working for Greshinea brought them.

The other noted when the others arrived and that somehow filtered through to Tris, but she was so lost in the battle and the rage of her Demon blood that the addition of a dozen more men didn’t even slow her down. Some of the men paused when they saw the circle of destruction around the girl. Bodies lay broken in piles around the slender child. A sword danced in one of her hands, in the other she took a bite of a still beating heart as yet another man fell at her feet dead. Scarlet blood dripped down her chin and neck as well as her hand and arm. Her sword seemed to glow red with the gore that encased it as the battle raged on.

Half of the men turned and ran while the other half charged, battle cries filling the air along with the screams of the dying. Those that ran thought nothing could be worse than dying in such a manner as their fellow soldiers had died. They were wrong.

When the last of those attacking her fell at her feet, Tris paid heed to that small voice in her head that said others had escaped. Her eyes shifted from emerald to deep amethyst as her attack changed from physical to magical. Cupping her hands together and blowing softly onto the cooling blood pooling there, she looked at the trees of her home through a purple haze. Mist rose from her hands and flooded out filling every shadow of her forest.

The mist reached out and caressed the retreating men with a velvety touch. Then the screaming began. Each fell, writhing in pain, their flesh peeling back from their bones as the mist ate them.

The villagers had watched the men walk into the forest earlier in the day; they sat and watched, knowing it wouldn’t be long. They heard the screams and saw the red mist floating toward them. Women clung to their children and men encircled their wives protectively. But the mist never left the borders of Tris’s land. Crossing themselves, the villagers watched the mist dissipate and join the clouds above their homes, harmless once more.

They weren’t surprised that none of the soldiers in black ever came out of that forest again. They had warned them, it was cursed; a Demon lived there and claimed all that land. As long as they left it alone, it left them alone. The men had laughed, calling the villagers foolish, everyone knew that Demons lived in a land far below and much hotter than this artic mountain forest.

Shægnek turned her head to the side as she heard the footsteps behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“The joining has happened and only the Demon Elf knew it had happened. She hasn’t yet had time to explore it, she was attacked. But during the battle, she accepted information from Debra. I’m not sure, but I think that Debra will be the stronger of the two, for all that she is the quieter.”

His voice was soft, filled with regret and sorrow. “That is a surprise, but not unwelcome. My minion has such evil running through him….”

“You created that, Chaos, you set it in motion. You could stop it, if you so choose.”

The chuckle was harsh, filled with irony and self-mockery. “No, Shægnek, I can’t. I can no more stop this from happening than you could smash that vase through that stain glassed window. We know the rules, once a prophecy is placed in motion, it can’t be stopped.”

“Trust in Serenity’s choices, Chaos. You did on Earth and see how that turned out? Trust that these heroes will save Father’s world.”

Chaos reached out and touched a strand of blood soaked hair on the head of the One through the window Shægnek used to watch her prophecies come to life. Then he turned and left, the silence of his passing more thunderous than the clash of tens of thousands meeting in battle.