Chapter 1 - Part 2

In the late afternoon, the skies were still a solid mass, but the rain had stopped. In truth, the cold rain was a blessing, as it mired the mix of dirty snow and mud that made up the ground, fouling any large troop movements by the Aundairians. Not that the Reachers relaxed their vigilance. Shifter rangers hid themselves in tall trees, their longbows waiting for a target, while the birds and small forest creatures obeyed druidic bidding in watching for the enemy.

Nothing was happening, and the skies were growing dark in the short winter day, but they watched anyway.

And not a few hoped quite fervently for another round.

Pienna was not one of those who looked forward to the conflict. She sat far to the west of her friend’s grave, resting alone with only her companion animal. The middle-aged druidess stroked the panther’s fur while sitting on a small boulder that she had fashioned into a chair with a spell.

A slight cough was heard in front of her. She smiled as the tiny, winged being, a fey creature barely as high as her handspan, came into view. Like many of the pixiefolk, Festa could make himself invisible to the mundane eye. Unlike many of his pixiefolk brethren, the little fey had the maturity and patience to empathize with her loss.

“Good afternoon, sister,” Festa said, removing his hat (which had been part of an acorn, not long ago) as he bowed to her, still hovering three feet off of the ground.

“Good afternoon, Festa,” she responded. He had greeted her in the common, human tongue, but she replied in Sylvan. “Do you have wounds?”

He shook his head. “The wine-drinkers from the east did not see Festa, they did not know who untied their stirrups.”

She smiled at that. The fey folk were a subtle ally on the battlefield, and their frequent, small contributions did more than one would suspect. “Festa is very brave,” she told him.

The pixie picked up at that, but only slightly. “Rock brother Chubat was braver,” he said, sadly.

Pienna nodded, holding back fresh tears.

After a small, unrushed silence, Pienna asked him “Are you hungry or thirsty, Festa?”

The pixie shook his head, and buzzed his wings, flying closer to her. “No, no, Festa needs to speak to the nature-sister, but Festa smells her sadness and wants not to interfere.” He zipped upwards a good two feet as Missy raised her snout and flared her nostrils. “Also, Festa wants to be sure that the nature-sister’s guardian has already been fed.”

That made her smile, if only slightly. “Missy will not harm you, Festa, and you do not interfere with my sadness.”

“Good, good,” Festa said, flying a quick two circles around her. “Festa brings news then. Two eagles have come, one a nature-brother, one an eagle staying with him. Festa saw the first eagle let go of its wild shape and become an elf. Gatekeeper elf.”

So Aruunis has decided to come, Pienna thought sarcastically. She kept her bitterness from her voice. “I know him, Festa, thank you. Does he search for me?”

Festa nodded. “Also Festa found a bad-taste!”

“A what?” Festa was moving back and forth between Sylvan and the common language now, and she was not sure she understood his metaphors.

The little pixie hovered closer, coming within a foot of her face as he whispered. “A grue,” he said, with obvious distaste. “A water grue. From an underground stream. From the west.” He lowered his tiny voice. “The far west.”

“He has news from the Demon Wastes, and he will talk to me?” she asked, her heart beating faster. Festa nodded. “Where is he?”

“Festa will show you the –” began the little pixie, starting to fly off to the south. Then he paused, and cocked his head, making a face.

“Festa?” she asked.

The little pixie made a face. “Nature-sister has company,” he muttered, before he vanished again.

Pienna sighed, and set her face towards the east, the direction that Festa had stared in. Sure enough, within minutes of Festa becoming invisible, a humanoid shape with an eagle on its shoulder stepped out of a tree across the clearing, rippling into a tall elf wearing Gatekeeper insignia as it left the common network of roots that it had used as a portal.

“Pienna,” Aruunis said, inclining his head. The tall elf had a stern expression, as always, and his demeanor and hooked nose made him look very similar to his eagle companion. “May I take up your time, and inquire as to why you are giving the Kingdom of Aundair the impression that the Gatekeepers have chosen sides in this war?”