I murmured and cooed as the beasts danced around me, seeking attention, staring at me with their reproachful eyes. They never said a word, just stood, letting me know they were there.
My pets were not full grown yet, which gave me reason to fear for their survival. I bent down to stroke Zaul, a lizard-like creature with green scales and a row of long teeth like a crocodile. He’d come from the river, the first beast in my collection.
I touched the thick, sharp fins of Ava, my fingertips sliding off her slick scales. She had a neck like a serpent and a face like a wyvern while the rest of her body curved into a mix of scales and feathers like an eel. She had four clawed legs and stared at me with large reproachful eyes.
Their eyes were all the same color as mine. Lemon yellow. I didn’t know what brought them to me, but our similar eyes bound us together and allowed me to ask them to serve my wishes. Never harm another was the motto I taught them, and as anger boiled through my veins, I realized that motto failed me. Do no harm, but allow yourself to be burned and broken, driven out into a nasty forest with a temper bigger than my own.
Reaching up I patted the fur of Grift who stood as tall as a horse with the body of a lion, and the face of a great eagle-like bird, the Xctas. He had great wings folded on his back. I cursed myself to restricting my pets to my garden. Perhaps with freedom and plenty of pasture, they could roam free. A fierce determination to protect almost overcame me and a lump in my throat made my eyes prick with tears which would never be shed.
Ava, who was the smallest, slunk around my legs, giving off a sweet keening sound, her grumpy thoughts filtering through mine. You could have warned us. What happened?
“Hansel,” I whispered, the red-hot anger of betrayal vibrated through my body. “Never you fear,” I told them, locking my gaze on each of them. “I have a plan. I do not forgive the villagers for what they did. You should never fear what others will do to you. From now on, you will wreak havoc in my name.”
Grift pawed the soft dirt near the riverbank, causing streaks of mud to flicker out behind him. Swishing his white tail back and forth he bent his head toward mine. “Is this forest our home now?”
“No, I will find you a home,” I whispered.
The lull of the river and the sound of splashing made me turn back to the bank.
Zaul, Ava, and Grift growled, readying themselves for combat.
“Wait,” I held up a hand, watching the waters flicker. “It might be a friend.”
Morag rose out of the water, droplets dancing around his scales as his long neck hung over the water.
“Where were you?” I demanded. “A panther attacked me, something a quarter of your size. Where is your bravery?”
“It was a test,” Morag hummed, his great voice coming from the depths of his being, like a hypnotic song on a breeze.
My anger did not recede, but I took a deep breath before I explored. “My pets came to my aid, no thanks to you!”
“Nay,” Morag slung his long neck back and forth like a lullaby rocking a child to sleep. “It was a test to help you find your beasts, which you have, and to prove who you are.”
“What do you know of who I am,” I snapped, accidentally biting my tongue and cursing as the sudden jolt of pain swept through my mouth.
“You are the one who tames the beasts, we come when we feel you are in great need.”
“We…” I trailed off as my anger receded and I examined Morag.
He leaned down, bringing his monstrous face closer to mine, and I saw the sheen of his wide eyes, bright as the Green Light in the sky.
“If you will have me, I will join your collection. I heard you call my name in your heart, I have been searching.”
“Searching for me?”
“Aye. Will you have me?”
My limbs trembled as I lifted a hand, reaching up to touch the great snout of the beast. When my hand reached his nostrils, I felt a familiar stir and click within my body, the alliance I swore to each one of my pets. My beasts. “Morag.”
My heart was thumping when I turned to my beasts. “This is my promise to you. I will find us a home, and we will add others to our number. In the meantime, go through this wicked forest, look for others, and wherever you go, wreak havoc.”
“Wait,” Morag cautioned. “I must take you to the Master of the Forest. Follow me.”
Studying his eyes, I nodded in agreement to the odd request.
A hiss. A growl. A roar. My beasts scattered into the underbrush, the forest shaking under their movement.
8
Master of the Forest
Morag led the way down the shining river, glowing with a green luminosity in the dim lights of night. Beasts growled in the underbrush but dared not approach us. I followed, my beasts and I leaving odd tracks in the mud which pooled with moisture and melted back into the bank, as if the river were cleaning up after us. I watched the scales of the water monster as an aura of grimness settled on my shoulders. Heated anger rose in waves combined with a deep curiosity.
We followed the bank until it closed upon a deep hedge, and there the waters dived into a steep waterfall, leaving us stranded on the shore.
“Here is where I leave you,” Morag spoke, his deep voice almost blending into the velvet wisps of night. “Follow the path up the bank. There he will wait for you.”
I took a step, my beasts following at my heels.
“They will not be welcome,” Morag arched his neck high in the air. “They must stay here with me.”
Words of protest rose on my lips, but instead of speaking I glared at the water monster. “I thought you belong to me.”
“Aye. But the Master of the Forest must speak to you alone. We await your return.”
I climbed the hill, the pitch making it difficult to see until I noticed the lights under my feet. Glow worms stood out in the mud, forming a path upward, among dead brown branches and broken bracken brush until I could no longer hear the roaring shout of the falls.
A sanctuary of interlocking branches rose before me, difficult to see with only the cast of the glow worms. I held up a hand as I entered, taking a step back as the monster on the throne stood to his feet.
He had the body of a tree, clothes in garments of black ivy and blood dusted feathers. A long white bone was held in one clawed hand, three fingers curving around it. The creature’s head was only a skull, yet not that of a mortal, but of an animal. It seemed to belong to a deer whose head was looped off and rotten to the core while antlers stuck out from the skull. Black slots for eyes turned in my direction and the head reared up, acknowledging my presence.
“Hello Enchantress.” The creature greeted me, staring in a way that made my blood run cold.
“Are you the Master of the Forest?” I focused my eyes on the creature’s snout. Looking into those dark eyes made me think it was dead.
“I am.”
“You know who I am. What do you want with me?”
“I will give you safe passage through my forest in exchange.” The creature tapped its bone against the forest floor, a hush of fear stealing the air away. I smelt something dead and rotten, a deep huskiness rising up from the buried dirt.
“Exchange for what?” I dared ask, confusion mounting.
“You must do something for me.”
“Must I?” I wanted to laugh but the oddness of the situation kept my emotions in check. “What do you want?”
“Death and destruction.” The creature turned its head, the dark eyes moving closer to me. I shivered as it continued. “The world rejoices. Peace is too much. I need riots and chaos and confusion. Wherever you go, there must be an imbalance. You must cause it.”
“Chaos happens whereever I go, regardless,” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders.
“Then you accept?” The creature leaned forward in a semblance of eagerness.
“I do,” I added hastily, since I had nothing to lose.
“Then the paths of the wood will open before you and lead you to paradis
e. There you shall begin.”
“What of my beasts?”
“What of them?”
“I need a home, a haven for them?”
“Then you will need to fight for it.”
“Will I win?”
“The future is not mine to see, only yours to create.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No. Go.”
“What if I need to find you again?”
“If the time comes, perhaps. Now go. Before the ghosts of the night capture your soul.”
I backed away, unwilling to turn my back on such a strange creature as I left. When it disappeared from my vision I turned and fled back to the river bank, back to my monsters.
9
At the End
Three days later I limped out of the dark forest. Brilliant sunshine streamed into my eyes, making me squint as moisture rolled down my smudged cheeks. I looked like a sight to scare any creature to death or drive them mad, running circles of surprise. Reaching up, I placed a hand on a stunted tree trunk, leaning against it for support as a new vibe raced through my veins. Glancing north and south I saw nothing but rolling green hills, with vibrant grass waving over them as if in worship. The sun reached down its rays to bless them and a captivating song murmured past my ears in the breeze.
I left my creatures behind, to run in freedom through the eerie, wild, woods, yet their spirits were close to me as I stepped into the light. The bitter aftertaste of dark and hollow memories faded as my instructions to my monsters in the dark forest. Whatever fog of gloom and despair the boundary line forest had cast over me melted away in the light like ice in the sunshine. Closing my eyes I lifted one hand, leaving the other for balance, and drank in the purity, letting it wash away my sins and the bitterness I held tight to. His dark chocolate eyes rose before mine, a final reminder of what I had lost. Hansel. I suppose it was never meant to be for very long. We were happy for a time, and although I do not forgive you, I can forget.
Cheerful birdsong drifted to my ears, and I stood up straight, sniffing the sweet air, captivated by its kindness. Hobbling forward I walked into pure light and breathed in, while the last of the dew droplets kissed my feet, cleansing me from my journey through the forest.
“Who owns this land?” I mused aloud for I could hear a voice, calling, shouting, telling me over and over, yet it was not in a language I understand. “I know this cannot be the legendary land of the immortals. Nay," I shook my head. "Who owns this land?”
Suddenly the wind fell to a hush, and the grass stood up straight in attendance. I shivered, but not from fear, merely from anticipation, for I felt as if my request was granted. A few moments later, over the rolling hills, with a jolly grin smacked on his face, a bearded giant walked towards me. His hair was chestnut brown and his skin tanned from what I supposed was hours in the sunlight. His bushy beard hid his thick neck, but it was his eyes that paused my breath. They twinkled at me, as good and kind as the boundary line forest had been dark and evil. He carried an ax over one shoulder and when he saw me, standing in my dirty shift with my wild hair, he threw back his head and a deep genuine laugh roared out of his belly.
“You called?” he bellowed when he finished laughing, his eyes dancing merrily at me.
I gaped in astonishment. He was brash and strong, bold and kind, and I sensed nothing but goodness in him, purity without wickedness, mischief without sin. There was something else, something that made me take another step towards him. It was the lure of power. Anticipation beat at my breast as ideas rose in my mind and words spewed out of my mouth. “This is your land?”
“Aye!” he roared, slapping his knee. “You must be new here.”
“Eh,” I pointed back at the forest. “I came through this morning. Who are you?”
“Welcome,” he nodded at me, eyes winking. “I am Novor Tur-Woodberry.”
Despite myself, I winked back at him, a sure feeling of safety gripping me. “Hello,” I held out a hand as a riot of mischievous thoughts collided in my mind. “I am Citrine.”
Dear Readers
Thank you for reading this short story.
Citrine will return in the full length epic fantasy series: Legend of the Nameless One
Read the series that began it all:
The Complete Four Worlds Series: Books 1-4
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The Five Warriors
The Blended Ones
Myran: A Prequel to Eliesmore and the Green Stone
Eliesmore and the Green Stone
Eliesmore and the Jeweled Sword
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About the Author
Angela J. Ford is the International Bestselling Author of The Four World Series. Brought up as a bookworm and musician, she began writing at the age of twelve. The storyline of her books are largely based off of the imaginative games she played with her sisters. Inspired by fairy tales, high magic, and epic fantasy, Angela knows you’ll enjoy your adventures within the Four Worlds.
If you happen to be in Nashville, you’ll most likely find her at a local coffee shop, enjoying a white chocolate mocha and furiously working on her next book. Make sure you say hello!
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Citrine's Monsters Page 3
