Princess Ruby of Tamworthia

by Phil Armstrong

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  Giselle soared above his head screaming at Joseph. She swooped down as he struggled to push the growth into the densely packed hole. "Light the fire, now!"

  Joseph spun quickly and touched the tip of his flaming torch upon the black tar. The flame jumped into life and started to race into the trench, igniting the inner circle. Joseph needed to move quickly or he’d be trapped within the inner ring. The plant grew furiously, over spilling the hole. He’d be tangled if he didn't leap now. Joseph leapt across the first trench before it had managed to completely fire into an inferno. He leapt across the second trench and reach backwards to ignite it. The crowd of animals and creatures cheered loudly as both trenches burst into flames.

  Joseph threw the torch into the trench and looked for Giselle. "It's not high Moon yet, the beasts are not coming yet? Why did you tell me to ignite the fires?"

  Giselle would not take her trained eyes off the center of the rings. "Watch the Gorsporth, watch the weed. The Gorsporth comes from the deepest part of the ocean floor. It thrives on the cold and the wet. Once the weed senses heat, it changes." The concentric rings of fire were throwing off intense heat and light, two things the Gorsporth cannot tolerate. It started with a leaf closest to the flames, but once the process had begun it was impossible to reverse. A large leaf billowed over into the trench and was licked by an exuberant yellow flame. The leaf reacted in a way that the Wyvern's had hoped. It turned to stone, hard, dense black stone. The stem supporting the leaf turned to stone and the other leaves gradually turned. Soon the stem, roots, leaves, and stalks, made a loud cracking noise, as they turned into stone through the heat of the fire. The hardened plant had transformed into solid black rock. The once vibrant plant had now plugged the Gateway, with an impenetrable stone seal.

  Joseph turned to look at Giselle, was that a look of satisfaction? Giselle didn't bask in the accomplishment for she knew there was still much to do. She extended her large snowy white wings. She soared through the spiraling warm air that the fires had created. In an instant, she was gone. Belver raised his snout in a celebratory gesture; he'd completed his part of the plan and kept his honor intact. As word spread, the excited squeals of animals could be heard echoing though the forest. Joseph realized the fire trenches were provided to create heat and light. No beasts were coming through tonight, he could relax; no fighting would occur tonight. The satisfaction of a job well done swept over him, but he had a strange feeling that he was but one step in a larger plan.

  The excited squeals did not escape the attention of the Witch or the Black Fox. They knew that something strange was happening within the forest. The normally subdued animals were unusually loud in their celebratory squeals. A famous victory had been won tonight and that would need to be rectified.

  At the edge of the forest, Ranger Oakmoss had assembled the largest collection of Wood Sprites ever seen. They'd traveled from far and wide, and assembled in a highly organized fashion. It was like a military operation. Acron marveled at Ranger's organization skills and the compliant nature of the Wood Sprites. The Wyvern bone had been chipped into small pieces. The old mill's grinding stone had been restored. Precious bone dust was collected in small leather pouches. The dust was hard to produce and the grinding stone was smoking with the friction and the heat. The grinding stone was losing the battle but continued to create the precious dust.

  As the small leather pouches were filled, a line of Fairies patiently waited to receive their precious cargo. Acron had organized the Fairies, each with their assigned location. As a Fairy received their pouch, they tied it to their belts and flew as quickly as they could to their designated destination. Each Fairy took refuge in a tree, bush, branch, sprig or vine to create a perimeter around the forest's edge. The furthest points were dispatched first. When the final pouch left for its position, the Wood Sprites cheered and wished the final Fairy a safe flight.

  At the Southern edge of the forest, the Witch was sensing the growing danger. She turned to the Black Fox in a concerned state. "Tonight, I think we should leave the forest for the safety of the brook. Let's leave the beasts to do their part. I sense changes and I'm not sure what they're up to."

  "What kind of changes do you feel?" inquired the curious Fox.

  "Magic, old magic. It's powerful and not of this world."

  The Black Fox's ears twitched with annoyance. "The Wyvern will not return, let's make sure we haven't missed any Yellow-bells. Let's create one more wet mist and then we'll leave the forest to the beasts."

  The Witch listened intensely. She knew something wasn't right, but the suggestion made sense. In the distance she could hear the faint sound of a horn, "Stupid Fairies. They can blow all night, the beasts will run them tonight!"

  The Fairies blew their horns. The sound originated from the old mill. It was the signal to start the Fairies plan. Soon, each Fairy would fly from their safe perch, and throw the dust contained in their leather pouches, high into the air. The wind would catch it, creating a blanket of dust around the perimeter of the forest. Each Fairy would sound their horn jubilantly, to signal their task's completion. An invisible ring of the purest dust now sealed the forest. Once the horns had ceased, the task was complete. The Wyverns could hear the high-pitched sounds and knew the forest was sealed.

  Safaa turned to her Brother. "This is your world Brother, you live in these parts. It's your energy, your vibration. We defer to you Brother, may our Father's spirit be with you."

  Odin closed his eyes and concentrated on the memory and image of his once powerful Father. He was a large Wyvern with a pure heart. He'd long since departed the physical world but the dust from his bone now surrounded the forest. To activate it, he would need to vibrate on the same frequency of his departed Father. Odin concentrated, his whole body started to shake. His blue, scaled tail barely entered the water, with his large frame propped by two front flippers. He stood motionless on the mud bank, until his tail created undulating ripples in the calm water. The energy rose up throughout his body, changing his vibrations. He arched his body to support his entire weight upon his strong muscular tail. He stretched his flippers as wide as they would go either side of his large chest.

  Odin raised his snout and let out a thunderous roar. A beam of strong Indigo colored light streaked from each flipper, like lightening bolts crackling across the sky. The Sisters watched closely, pleased that their Brother had made the connection. The purple bolts shot skywards, igniting the dust filled sky. Each particle glowed, creating a blanket of Indigo. The night sky had been ignited with powerful, pure, positive energy. Odin fell into the mud, exhausted and satisfied.

  The Black Fox's acute ears heard the roar first, but the entire forest could hear the great roar. The sky continued to shine with a strange Indigo glow. The Witch shot a worried look at the Black Fox. They both recognized the roar of a Wyvern; he had returned. The roar was met with cheers, squeals and shouts of every living creature in the forest; it was a deafening response. They sensed victory and the Witch became worried. She grabbed at the pouch attached to her waist. She opened the pouch and dipped her weathered, spindly hand, deep inside. A cold, dark, sticky gum-like substance, met her fingers. She rubbed her fingers together and withdrew her hand.

  Holding her arm towards the sky, she shouted a spell conceived in the old world, a Celtic spell, from a dark Witch. Instantly, the sticky substance smoked and spiraled, into the night sky. It would only be moments before the mist would form and cover the forest with a wet blanket. She would know if a Yellow-bell or a Wyvern was present. She would know if the Wyvern's roar was trickery.

  They waited impatiently as the wisps of smoke ascended. To their horror, the smoke crackled and fizzled, as it met the Indigo sky. The pure energy above choked the evil spell into submission. No evil magic would be allowed to fester.

  "Let's leave now!" barked the frantic Witch.

  The Black Fox did not wait; he turned and trotted briskly in the direction of the forest's path. They were
heading for the safety of the brook, far away from the forest. A fallen tree had blocked their path; its trunk was thick and mighty. As they approached, the Witch threw her hand in the air with a violent swipe, commanding the felled tree to clear the path. To her amazement, her magic was ineffective. She commanded a fireball to race into the trunk's core, but again she had the same result. She glanced at the inquisitive Fox. He waited for her to clear the path, but she was powerless. That frightened her, for now she was vulnerable. They hastened towards the large obstacle, with fear rising deep within them. They must hasten their journey; they must leave the forest as quickly as they could. They would have to scramble over the fallen tree.

  It was the alert Fox who saw it first. The tree had not rotted, falling from decay. The bark was not blackened from a lightening strike. This tree had been felled by an axe; deliberately placed to create an obstacle. The Black Fox didn't have time to raise the alarm. Six battle-hardened Ferrets, streamed out from small holes excavated near the log. They were scarred from battle and hand selected for this important job. Their fur was drenched in the smells of green moss and mud. The Fox's alert nose would not detect the ambush that lay in wait for them. The Ferret's were quick; they were attacking the poor helpless Fox before he had a chance to outrun them. Nipping at his legs, they sank their teeth into his sinewy shins, anchoring him in position. He squealed in shock and the Witch ran to his assistance. The Fox's instincts kicked in as he snarled and snapped at the Ferrets. He stomped his feet, but it was of no use. He was wounded and bleeding, his magic had been rendered mute. The Ferrets teeth were small, but razor sharp, piercing his skin and bringing him to the ground in pain. On another day, his blood would have been scolding or his movements would have been too fast, but without his dark magic, he was vulnerable. Today, he was just a Fox.

  The Ferrets were fast and coordinated. They worked the Fox to the ground, avoiding the kicks, thrown their way by the Witch. A Ferret went for the Fox's throat, but the Fox’s snapping jaws caught the Ferret's back end, sending him sprawling in pain. As the Fox fought for his life, his friend the Witch, had retrieved a large branch, and was attempting to swipe the Ferrets with the weapon. A Ferret lunged for the Fox's throat again; this time he sank his needle like teeth into the soft flesh. The Fox yelped and dropped to the ground helpless.

  The Witch stepped forward quickly to assist; it was then that her fate was sealed. She turned her body she provided a clear target. Perched high within the trees, above the path, was a hanging branch sturdy and thick. Ruby had sat within its sway, affording her an excellent view of the tussle below. Ruby was wearing a coat made from ferns, mud, pond slime and bark sap. Deedot had arranged for the construction of a smelly coat; designed to confuse the Fox's perceptive nose, and mask her sweet Human odor. She pushed the coat from her shoulders and it fell across the branch. She retrieved the Arrow of Belhavior from her quiver. She'd been patient, she'd waited for her moment; the time had come. She knew she'd be offered one shot and only one shot. She tried not to think of the consequences of missing. She held the bow, her normally steady hand, was shaking. She glanced at the bow and instantly thought of her Father who had arranged for its construction as a gift. A thought floated through her mind. It's amazing that in the heart of the most important moment of your young life, your mind has time to entertain irreverent thoughts. She thought of the arrow and how her Father would be proud. She drew the arrow backwards and focused her eyes on the Witches mid-section. She tried to relax and thought how nice it would be if her Father could meet King Ghard.

  She took a deep breath and let the strained twine of her bow release from her taught fingers. The Arrow leapt from the bow and flew straight towards its target. The arrow seemed to fly slowly or time seemed to slow down. Ruby watched in horror as the Arrow of Belhavior cut through the thick forest air. Below, the Ferrets attacked the stricken Fox; once feared he was losing a ferocious battle for his life. The Arrow thumped into the Witches long black robes, causing her to fall instantly. The Arrow had pierced the chest and ribcage of the unsuspecting Witch. She'd not anticipated a strike from above. The powerful Arrow killed the last trace of evil from within the young woman; she fell bleeding to the forest floor.

  The old, weathered woman fell to the ground instantly. She suddenly transformed into the innocent young woman, who first stumbled into the forest. The Black Fox was gone; the Ferret's had made short work of the powerless animal. Ruby leapt from the overhanging branch, she rolled neatly to break her fall. She raced to the Witches body, still covered in the black robe. She ran quickly to the formless shape. Ruby rolled the woman over, unconcerned about the danger or state of the body beneath her. The Arrow had pierced a wound into her rib cage but was protruding from her midsection.

  Ruby grabbed the arrow's head and firmly pulled it from her victim's body. The arrow slipped out, causing the woman to flinch and groan with pain. Ruby looked around the path. To her relief, she saw the welcome site of a large Owl, wings spread, descending from the Indigo mist. Dropping her bow, Ruby held the arrow aloft in her outstretched hands. Giselle snatched the Arrow of Belhavior; secured within her powerful talons, she changed direction and flew to the pond and the waiting Wyverns.

  When Ruby looked at the face of the Witch, it shocked her; a pretty, young face, stared back at her. Claire had stumbled into the forest as a young woman, spurned by the man she’d loved. It was the powerful Black Fox that had turned her into pure evil. He'd caught her when she was vulnerable and bitter. He'd preyed upon her insecurities and taught her to be pure evil. She'd been turned and found it increasingly difficult to turn back, to abandon her chosen path. The Arrow of Belhavior was pure; it was designed to kill evil. It had expunged the dark forces, entwined within her body. She was Claire again, pure happy, Claire. The wound had healed and the arrow had left no trace. As she came to, she started to weep. Ruby held her in her arms, as the emotions released. The sky cleared and a faint Indigo glow could be seen swirling around in the crisp night air.

  The evil spells had been lifted. The Castle and Village seemed to emerge from a deep fog. Even in the late hours of the night, people left their beds, their isolation, and their depravity. They felt healthy again and rejoiced in the streets. On the outskirts of the Forest, they could hear the cheers of Human voices, celebrating their turn in good fortune. Ruby's thoughts turned to her parents; she smiled. She hoped they'd managed to hang on, that they'd fought until she could release them. Ruby learned later, that her parents were close to death, but they’d managed to survive.

  Princess Ruby and the Arrow of Belhavior became legend in Skipton forest lore. Deep within the forest, on cold nights, when gathered around the fire within a Crackle, young Wood Sprites are still told of the brave Human girl who saved the Forest. They sing of the Stibmit, Princess Ruby, and her friend Joseph. They mimic the archer's pose and sing the songs that tell their tales. Mystical creatures still exist today. Most Human's will walk by them unnoticed, but occasionally, a longer glance and a turned head, will signal the presence of a gifted one; a Stibmit.

  The forest and its creatures were safe. Giselle had flown powerfully to the Pond's edge, delivering her precious cargo. Safaa was indeed a strong swimmer and sped to deliver the Arrow of Belhavior to King Ghard with time to spare. Safaa and Bao returned to the deep. Odin lived a long life, before joining his Father in the spiritual world.