“A fine game this is, and although it has strategic qualities, it lacks the excitement of survival,” Mr. Hempton commented to Thorik as they played another game of Runeage. “Perhaps if a player were to lose a toe or finger with each tile surrendered.”
They continued playing as the other Myth’Unday creatures sprinkled sleeping dust over Grewen and Avanda.
“Is that absolutely necessary?” Thorik asked again. “Grewen could really come in helpful with stopping the guards to free Brimmelle.”
“If they wake and see me, I insist they play a game. And I can’t guarantee that they will win.” Mr. Hempton took a moment and set down his next Runestone tile.
“So, no one can see Myth’Unday without playing a game?” Thorik asked.
“Not true in the slightest. How did you ever win our game in the pond?” Mr. Hempton said to himself before continuing. “Young children can see through our illusions, but who will believe the words of a child? In addition, I ask for payment to see me in the form of a game. Some Myth’Unday do nothing, but many others require a great deal more. You’re quite lucky you ran into me. My sister would have ripped out your eyes for gazing upon her. She’s extremely vain you know. The arrogant twit will never let me live down the day I broke her mirror. ‘Get over it already,’ I says to Raython. ‘Look in a mud puddle. It reflects your face better.’ I added.” The frog laughed at his own memories.
Thorik gave an odd expression as their conversation led to Mr. Hempton’s personal memories. “So, Avanda should be able to see you without playing a game.”
“Don’t be so sure about that. Kids grow up fast now days and innocence is quickly lost. As much as I’m up for another game, I think we’ll have our hands full in a very short time.”
The sun rose and turned the sky light shades of blue before a leaf winged Myth’Unday flew down from a tree to notify Thorik of an approaching wagon.
Thorik climbed up into the tree and watched the wagon work its way to the apex of a hill before going back down into the next shallow valley. He called down to Mr. Hempton. “I see a wagon and several riders approaching. It looks like the Terra King’s guards.” He climbed out of the tree and hid behind some bushes.
Mr. Hempton nodded at a Tree Faerie wearing a walnut shell for a hat and a hollowed out pinecone for a dress.
The Faerie nodded back to Mr. Hempton and went right to work. It ran out into the middle of the road and stopped before it began spinning around like a top. It gathered more speed as it spun and eventually drilled itself into the ground.
All was quiet for a few seconds before the ground began to rumble. Earth began to push up from the center of the dirt road as a tree started to quickly grow up out of it. Limbs formed and the tree’s height increased as well as its width.
Once its branches were long enough to span the road, it stopped. A slight pause was taken before a series of eruptions, near the tree, exploded dirt into the air. Thick roots pushed their way out of the ground in every direction. They pulsed and grew until they were easily over a foot thick.
The oncoming wagon would not be able to pass this obstacle.
Thorik was tugged and pulled down into hiding by the Myth’Unday, as the wagon approached. He was still in awe of seeing a tree grow in a matter of minutes.
The wagon arrived over the hill and came to a stop before the tree. Two soldiers sat on the front of the wagon as it was being pulled by a four-legged Fesh’Unday, long and thin with tan hair. Six guards rode the backs of Faralopes and other similar two-legged species. Two of the riders took the lead, followed by the wagon and then the other four riders.
The wagon itself was a cage on wheels and contained a dozen human and Polenum captives. Thorik immediately saw Brimmelle sitting in the back corner, hot and depleted from the trek across the desert. He did not look well.
Once they stopped, the first two guards got off their beasts and started discussing how they could cut out the roots for the wheels of the wagon. One grabbed his battle-axe from his mount and walked over to chop at the roots blocking the path. He swung the axe with full force as it cut deeply into the root. Pulling it out for another swing, he stopped when he noticed blood on his blade.
The guard next to him noticed it as well. They both looked down at the root to see blood pouring out of the wound.
As they looked upon the root with disbelief, the tree limbs from above attacked. They grabbed them both and lifted the two up, stripping them of their weapons that fell back to earth.
It was at this time that the Myth’Undays attacked like a swarm of multicolored fireflies. Large blankets were flown over from the woods and placed over the prisoner’s cage. It was held down to prevent those inside from seeing the Myth’Unday.
Glowing threads began to wrap around the guards as sleeping dust was sprinkled in their faces.
The guards fought back and shielded themselves the best they could. One guard near the back grabbed one of the faeries out of the air and held it tight in his fist. The glowing Myth’Unday brightened her intensity as the guard gazed upon streams of light shining out between his fingers before feeling the flesh in his palm starting to burn. He opened his hand quickly and blew on his palm to cool it down as the faerie escaped and then crammed faerie dust up his nose.
Other guards made futile attempts to swing swords and maces at the tiny creatures, resulting often in their own injures. This continued as the Myth’Unday teased and tied up the guards who were now falling off their rides.
Chaos around the wagon quickly subsided as each of the guards fell into the Myth’Undays bindings. All but the wagon driver were tied up and moved into the woods, out of view.
Mr. Hempton hopped up onto the front of the wagon and then onto the captive driver, stopping on his shoulder. He showed the man his fishing rod. “I hope you’re up for a game.”
It was impossible for Thorik to know what the guard saw when he looked at Mr. Hempton, but it was obviously something that struck fear into him, for he screamed in horror at the sight of him.
He was quickly bound and removed from the visibility of the prisoners.
Thorik ran out to the road and grabbed a fallen battle-axe near the tree. Looking down at the bleeding wound in the exposed root, he asked, “Are you going to heal?”
Hundreds of little tree seeds emerged from the limbs and floated to the ground in helicopter casings. Upon landing, they sprouting legs, arms, and heads. They all quickly scurried into the woods as the tree itself decayed before Thorik’s eyes. Tree limbs drooped, then fell, before the entire plant turned to dust and swirled softly away in the breeze.
“Thank you.” Thorik wished the Tree Faerie farewell.
Moving to the back of the wagon, Thorik pulled off the blanket and busted the lock apart with his new double bladed weapon. He swung the door open, freeing the captives. They all looked drained and thin from lack of food and water as well as burned from the desert’s hot rays.
Reaching into the cage, Thorik began helping people out of the wagon and down to the road. In his haste to help, he almost didn’t notice his Grandmother. “Granna Gluic? Is that you? I thought you were dead.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” She then held up her sack of stones and winked. “I had a bit of help.”
Thorik hugged her tighter than he had ever done before. He had missed her greatly and suddenly realized how much he enjoyed her company. He never wanted to let her go again.
“She was unconscious for a few days.” Brimmelle followed her out. “But I nursed her back to health with my readings of the scrolls.”
Still hugging Thorik, Gluic commented softly into his ear, “It was the stones.”
The prisoners stretched their legs and bodies as they made their way to the natural spring. To their surprise, a bountiful feast of fruit for the eating was next to the water’s edge. They quickly enjoyed the gift of food and thanked Thorik for it time and time again.
“You’re welcome, but it wasn’t me. The Myth’Undays must have
gathered it for you.” No one listened to Thorik’s explanation as they took in the hospitality.
It was at this time that Grewen and Avanda woke to the sight of the group enjoying their feast. There was more than they could eat, but perhaps less than Grewen could.
“Hello?” Grewen sat up from behind bushes that hadn’t existed when he had fallen asleep.
The sight of the giant Mognin caused immediate fear across the crowd.
“It’s okay,” Thorik announced to the recently freed people. “He’s our friend.”
Taking some time to calm everyone down, Thorik gathered some food for Grewen and Avanda.
Thorik loaded his new battle-axe onto his back as several people asked how he had saved them.
“I had help from some Myth’Undays that I befriended,” Thorik said. “I won a game with Mr. Hempton. He’s a big frog…” He smiled as he used his hands to show everyone how tall Mr. Hempton was. “…with an acorn hat…and a blue scarf…and a fishing pole…” Seeing the awkward glares, he hoped to continue without sounding any crazier. “For my reward he helped me free you.”
“How did these well-dressed frogs help you?” one of older men asked.
“No, there was only one frog. The rest were little forest people with mystical abilities. Some had wings, some could glow, others dressed themselves with leaves and nuts,” Thorik explained.
The group laughed at his far-fetched story of magical little people and dismissed it as they thanked Thorik again for the rescue and food.
Keeping the celebration short, they wished to start their return trip to see family and friends. The group boarded the wagon and mounts to head back toward Eastland in a state of jubilation.
Brimmelle and Gluic said their goodbye to the group as they rode away, before the two turned back and visited with Grewen and Avanda. Avanda and Brimmelle quickly began telling their own adventures as the two stories bounced back and forth on top of each other.
It was only a matter of minutes before old habits returned as Avanda started telling Gluic of her exciting adventures while Brimmelle explained his own hardships with the journey to Grewen.
Enjoying the sight of them back together again, Thorik leaned against a nearby tree. Chuckling at the scene, he noticed something move out of the corner of his eye. “Thank you,” he said without veering his focus.
Mr. Hempton stood on a branch, leaning on the trunk. “No, no. Thank you, my lad. You have a good head on your shoulders and play a fine game. Just remember, you always control the game until you stop believing that you do.”
“I’ll remember that, next time I meet another Myth’Unday.”
“Lad, I was talking about your games outside the Mythical Forest.”
Thorik understood and nodded.
Theodore Hempton gave Thorik a slight bow and a tip of his hat before jumping off the tree. He then hopped across the forest floor and behind the brush where the bound guards hung upside down from the trees. Finding his first contestant for his personal entertainment, he gave an evil smile.
Seeing Grewen pack up all of the supplies and the remaining food, Thorik knew it was time to leave.
Chapter 29
Pelonthal
Fate of Thorik Page 37
