Speculating on the future...

While rambling to my writing partner in crime, I got to thinking about where my characters are going to be in ten years (their time). What I came up with was this list, which is maybe 20% accurate. ;)

Seph: Herbalist. The blind priest, finally sick of being the most powerful magic-wielding healer in his country and having no personal life, hobbies, or friends because of this, has renounced his calling to become a simple village healer far from home. Knowing someone who has a penchant for taking in strays- and who owes him a huge favor- he finds himself on the doorstep of:

Cyneric: High priest. Magical woopie cushion idea now completed, he's well on his way to making the first custard pie machine- having forgotten about the paperwork sitting on his desk for the past month. Oops. Has created a nonprofit (prophet?) organization to rehabilitate and find good homes for monsters of the humanoid persuasion (satisfaction not guaranteed). Tired of their only means of communication being letters and spotting an obvious opportunity that the other high priests have missed, has promoted:

Raff: Weapons Master. He's gleefully smacking around the acolytes who, thinking he's no older than they as he hasn't aged much in the past twenty years, incorrectly assume this goofy instructor doesn't take fighting seriously. Having run out of names for pet mice by this point, he has opted to instead have a giant tortoise for a pet. Immediately regrets this decision.

Kryro: Tribe leader. The scholarly centaur is still trying to figure out how, when, and why the heck he's now in charge; this must have been while he was off learning his tenth language. Working a losing battle on teaching his tribe to read and not throw the books at kobolds while all the while wishing he could get some help from his now-educated sister and former guard-partner:

Meren: Mage. Now possessing the title of "Lady Meren Woods-Ward", she has finally figured out how to keep intruders out of her forest without the place burning down around her large ears, but...

Phillip: ?. He is no longer going by his birth name and is currently on his eighth mage-name; switches them out every time his moral compass shifts from Good to Evil to Crazy and back again. Probably killed by said wood elf who got sick of him poking around said forest yet again- unless he married her instead. Still an Illusionist; happy about this. Still purple; annoyed by this. Possibly not so annoyed if now dead or married.

Piper: Top-ranked priestess. After much searching for a cure to break her curse, is finally back to two legs and no wings and has moved up in rank to now bear the esteemed surname of Windborne. On a life-long quest to prevent shipwrecks, travel the world, and get her orc to stop wearing that ridiculous hat. Her partner in crime is:

Tavin: Roving Shaman. Over his phobia of fire at long last, he remains quite happy to call the open sea his home. Next to the color of the water he looks a bit less green, so it's probably a good thing that he doesn't get seasick. He's still working on a way to hide his fangs, but since his main concern had been de-birding his girlfriend, he figures he now has time to sort that one out.

Clover: Also a "?". This halfling may or may not be A.)sane, B.)alive C.)good D.)evil E.)indifferent F.)conniving G.)picking the pockets of every sap she meets H.)following/looting/influencing/tricking any/some/all of the characters above.

This is silly, but now I'm itching to write some of this nonsense! ;)

~Meri

Some questions for the protagonists...

((The Dungeon Master of the game Cyn is from gave us a few questions to ponder; I liked this, so I think I'll answer it as my four current protagonists. Obviously it's entirely unlikely that all four will ever be in the same place at the same time, so suspension of disbelief here. ;) This is post-Acolyte's Map and Hidden Magic, as well as after Cyn's encounter with evil.))

A guardian stands before you and says, "You must leave everything behind to pass, except for one item." What do you take with you? (Assume he will let you keep any non-magical clothing you are wearing. Treat a suit of armor, or something similarly bulky, as one item.)

Meren: "Easy this one is. My bow. Although without my quiver, useless the bow would be. My spellbook, perhaps?"

Phillip: "Yeah, I agree on the spellbook. If I can't constantly have Illusion magic at the ready, I'd be in deep trouble. I wonder if I can sneak my mask in under my robe so I can have that, too... Elf-girl, distract the guardian for a minute, would you?"

Meren: "Sigh. One thing only, Phillip. Just the book bring."

Phillip: "Fine, fine."

Cyn: "Does non-magical jewelry count as clothing? I need to have my amber on me at all times, but I have another piece of jewelry that means almost as much to me that isn't in any way magical. If the guardian won't let me take that one as well, I'll Charm him into allowing me to do so. If that doesn't work, forget it, I'm finding a different route that will allow me to bring both as I refuse to leave either behind."

Raff: "Uh. Well, Cyn beat me t'answering that one, so ditto."

Meren: "The only one the rules following am I?"

Raff: "Rules are overrated. Hey, if I give sad puppy eyes can I keep my mouse, too? ... oh, what am I saying, my animals can just follow me."

Cyn: "Why did I not think of that? I left my fox behind; while your animal entourage is passing through, can you herd Loxie along with the rest?"

Raff: "You named your fox Loxie? Foxie Loxie?" *snickers*

Cyn: "Said the elf who keeps naming mice after food products."

Raff: "I did that once, okay, maybe twice, but-"

Meren: "Bickering would you two stop, please? Some of us places have to be. Next question, if answer it correctly you three will?"


The crooked stranger before you opens the door and bids you enter. "Behind this door, you must battle your worst fear." What's in the room beyond?

Meren: "-Second thought on, continue bickering. That door past, wish to go I do not! Behind the door is behind the door: a room. Underground. Walls, always walls, no light! No trees! Dank air! Leave the room, I cannot and smaller it gets! Walls- why a door through did my fear have to be??"

Raff: "Woah, woah, calm down! You're not even in the room yet. Why don't you go outside and breathe and we'll finish these questions up?"

Phillip: "Yes, please do. My answer is going to make you even more twitchy since it's-"

Meren: *twitch twitch flee*

Phillip: "-Undead. Ranks of the nasty buggers, all sent after me, looking at me with empty eyes, teeth clattering, skeletal claws... can I follow Meer? If it's all the same, I'd rather not go through that door."

Cyn: "Fat chance. We don't wish to go through that particular door, either."

Phillip: *grumble grumble twitch*

Cyn: "There, see, not so bad. This is theoretical, not actual. For my answer... well, Raff, I hope I'd be able to see you on the other side, but that is rather doubtful considering what would be through there."

Raff: "What do y'mean?"

Cyn: "In that room I would be alone. My fear is being unable to reach our god and losing that inner divine connection- and in turn being exiled forever from our brethren, the people who have become my family. Being excommunicated, forsaken and unloved is my biggest fear."

Raff: "Ouch. Aye, that does sound absolutely horrible! Losing our Calling would be bad and I wouldn't handle that well, either, but-"

Cyn: "You have never truly been alone, so you would not know it well enough to fear it as greatly as others could."

Phillip: *mutters under his breath* "Hear hear."

Raff: "Exactly. So behind that door isn't isolation, but something more like Meren's. It's helplessness. Being weak, vulnerable, useless, not able to protect myself, the messages I carry or those who need my help. It's being taken advantage of and being powerless t'do anything about it. Been there, don't wanta face it again. Can we all just pick a different door instead? Next question, please."


As you rub the lamp, a genie appears! "I am in your debt! I shall grant you one wish." What do you ask him for?
Raff: "That's better. But is there anything I want? Hmm..."

Meren: *shouts from a distance* "This blasted claustrophobia lose I would like!"

Raff: "Aye, fixing the previous problem would be nice. I'd wish t'not be underestimated and if I am put in a situation where I'm treated like an easy target, I can get myself out of it quickly. Would that work as a wish? Should I simplify it and say I always want my wits, my weapons and my magic? How about you guys? Wishing t'cancel the skeletons and potential loneliness?"

Phillip: "Look at me, elf. Do you really think I'd miss an opportunity to be normal again? In case you haven't noticed, I'm purple."

Raff: "For all I know, that is normal. Meren's green."

Phillip: *eyeroll* "Of course purple isn't. My wish would be to look the way I used to. If I appeared normal, I wouldn't need to rely on magic and costumes to cover the fact that I'm marred and could concentrate my magic elsewhere."

Raff: *shakes his head* You're talking to the wrong people. We like disguises and being odd. Right, Cyn?"

Cyn: "Somewhat. You take it to an extreme, Greeneyes. However, no, my wish wouldn't involve my fear. I'm having trouble deciding which desire I'd ask for, though: A longer lifespan, being able to get along better with people, or for all evil priests to be gone forever and never turn up again."

Raff: "Geez, you don't aim for small, do ye?"

Cyn: "This is offering us anything. Well, with enough practice, I could possibly eventually get better at dealing with people, so wishing for that may be a waste. The third... that could have repercussions that might turn out negative because it is such a far-reaching wish- and it's too violent, too much like a type of genocide. In wanting to do Good, the action would end up decidedly not Good. Eliminating the Evil priests would eliminate their gods, or at least make them far weaker, which is good in theory, but what if that made the Good priesthoods too powerful and caused clashes within that alignment? Hermes and His Messengers would be caught in the middle since we do not take sides or strive for power."

Phillip: "That roundabout theorizing is giving me a headache."

Raff: *grins* "You'll get used to it. He's always like this. But you do think too much, Cyn. I can't see how getting rid of bad could be bad."

Cyn: "Perhaps not, but I'd rather not risk it. The first wish would probably be the best of the three as it would not effect my ability to be a Messenger and would not have any sort of influence on anyone else. It certainly couldn't harm anything, which undoubtedly makes it the most appealing of my options."

Raff: "And I can't say I'd dislike that one, but I still think getting rid of evil would be a good thing."

Cyn: "Then you should have wished for it."

Raff: "Guess we need t'find a second magic lamp!"

Phillip: "Whatever. I'm going to go try to break Meren from that claustrophobic crazy fit. Again. Freak rescuing the odd, as usual."

((If you're wondering why Meren sounds so odd, she's finally learned Common, the language the other three speak, but she's not very good at it yet. Meanwhile Raff's accent has slipped into the heavier version he picks up when he has no reason to hide it- and speaking of Raff, I'm working on a story where I get to throw his fear at him. Mwahaha!))

Art of my unlucky wizard

Unlucky, but I still like him. ;) Phillip is the main antagonist/protagonist/friend/foe in Meren's story, "Hidden Magic". I created a bio page for him, but I'll be adding the detailed character description later.

Anyway, this is an art post so onto the art!

Have I mentioned before that I love artsy presents? My very favorite kinds of gifts are handmade so it always makes my day when someone makes something for me. For Christmas my friend Niere (ya know, the super-talented girl who draws me the awesome character art I use on my blog?) offered to draw me something. I decided on Phillip since he's rapidly becoming a protagonist in his own right. I think she did a great job!



With him, I didn't have a clear mental picture of what he looks like. I can picture him now, as he looks after "Hidden Magic" and the magical mishaps, but couldn't picture him when he still looked normal, which was the art I wanted since my writing mostly takes place in his past. This is where it helps to have a talented artist friend; now I know what he looks like. ;)

When I gave Niere his physical description I realized, though, how similar in coloration he is to Cyneric and his brother. This turns out to not be a mistake; now I know where Cyn's family originated from and, in a weird, roundabout way, it gives me a heritage and extra background for a character I thought I'd developed fully. That's neat! (Or, as my fiancé says, he's "Evil Cyneric". Sigh. I can't seem to convince him that Phillip isn't actually evil.)

And I suppose here be spoilers if you haven't finished "Hidden Magic".

You've been warned. ;)

I made a plushie of Phillip during the summer that I haven't shared yet, but it's him post-"Hidden Magic", hence the spoiler warning. Here's that:



I'd thought about making him "normal", but I think the fact that I didn't have to give him hair in purple form was what decided me. That's always a step that takes forever!

Phillip does have something going for him, though. Despite absolutely hating the fact that he's now purple, not all hope is lost. He is an Illusionist so he can technically appear however he chooses... for as long as the spell remains active, anyway! Still, he wants to go back to being normal again, so we'll see. ;)

I'll be writing more about Phillip later this year; I'll be co-writing a story with my elf sister that tells of his past and his experience being apprenticed to a wizard who became an evil necromancer. Poor Phillip. He has to be the most unfortunate character I've ever written and that's some stiff competition!

Hidden Magic - Story, Part 10

Banner art by JackOfClubs (jack_spire on livejournal).
You can find the whole cover art here- JoC did a great job on it!
There's also a great mix/soundtrack that goes with this story- you can find that here.


Hidden Magic, Part 10
(Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,
Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9)

Meren continued south in a much better mood than she had been in. She would learn and do so quickly. She would get by fine without her brother's help. Now if only that mage turned out to be someone inclined to help a strange vagabond elf. Her smile faded as a thought occurred to her: what if the mage doesn't speak a language I do? This gave Meren a few minutes of panic before she recalled that her father had said it was a halfling village, as well. Even if the mage was not a halfling, someone there would be able to speak with her and point her in the right direction.

This conundrum solved, Meren traveled on almost cheerfully. It was a cool night, the moon was bright enough to see by, her brother would be safe with his own kin soon, there was the sensation of something brushing her arm... She jumped, yanking her arm away and twisting around to her right. Nothing was there. What the... She looked from side to side, but there were no trees this close to the river and her elven infravision wasn't picking up the glow of anything living in the area, either. When she felt it again, she almost let out a shriek and only years of training for silent scouting kept her from doing so.

Her heartbeat didn't slow until she heard a hoarse voice whisper near her ear. "Calm down, elf-girl. It's just me."

"Phillip? How? Where are-" she began to ask, then mentally chided herself. Magic, of course. "So that's how you got away from the clearing. I'm seriously beginning to think that you're following me around, you know."

"I think not… Alright, so this time I may have been." Now that she was paying attention to the spot to her right, she could see vapor rising about a foot above her head as he spoke. Guess he's still stuck with that, she observed as he added, "And I... er... did follow you back to your home."

"You did what?" Meren exclaimed, turning to glare at the spot she now knew him to be. "How many times do I have to tell you to leave the area? And could you please just make yourself visible again? I feel like an idiot talking to a cloud of smoke."

She heard Phillip mutter something under his breath, then he reappeared looking rather sheepish and from what Meren could tell through her night vision, still somewhat discolored. "Six, I would guess. But before you say anything else, you didn't seem too upset when I knocked out those orcs and put out that fire."

"So that's what happened? I should have known," Meren tried to glare at him, but found that she couldn't and felt dangerously close to smiling at the annoying human. "I suppose I should say thank you."

"Always a pleasure to help a woman in need," he replied with a smirk. Meren snorted, which didn't seem to take away his strange good mood. After a moment, however, he turned serious again. "If you don't mind me asking, elf-girl, what happened back in your … town? Encampment? Whatever it's called? Why are you going south and the centaur back into the forest?"

Well, there goes my good mood, she thought. But what was the harm in telling him? He'd probably just tag along, annoying her longer if she didn't. "East. I'm only going south until I can cross the river. My kin learned of my magic- thank you for throwing yours in there because they now think I have even more than I actually do, by the way- and they sent me off to some sort of mage in a town to the east. Kryro is going north to find his kin." There, that was vague enough, right?

Phillip's dark eyebrows wrinkled. "A mage? But I'd thought you were already trained."

Meren stared at him blankly. Why would he think that? "No, never. I can do magic, but my father thinks that a mage can help me not set things on fire."

The human shook his head slowly and gave a short, low whistle. Finally he said, "Hearing that, you do need to find a master. If you can do magic like that on your own, setting the forest on fire may be the least of your worries, Meren."

Being called by her real name for once made the elf realize that the man was serious, but a statement like that was downright terrifying when she'd already been fretting about her lack of control. Phillip tugged at the frayed hem of his sleeve and Meren got the impression that he was thinking hard about something. After a minute or two, he said, "I didn't mean to frighten you, only to give a warning. Just make sure the mage you find is a good one. I don't mean good as in 'competent'... well, I do, I suppose, but what I meant was someone who is a good person." His raspy voice grew quieter as he added, "Believe me, this is important."

As he spoke this, Meren recalled his earlier paranoia. She nodded; clearly he was trying to warn her away from his experience, whatever it was. "I will. But where are you going? More … things aren't following you, are they?"

He stared at the staff in his hand, studying it for a few moments, then glanced behind him. The wood elf was about to ask her question again when he answered softly, "I hope none are. And I don't know. I was going west, but how can I go home looking like this?"

"Wouldn't that be the best time to go home?" When the man looked down at her, confusion evident on his purple face, she explained, "If they're your kin, they won't mind who you are."

"As yours so readily accepted you?" His hoarse voice was bitter, but Meren didn't think he was actually directing that sharpness at her.

The wood elf frowned as she realized that he had a point. A rather good one, actually. "Alright, bad example, but you have to go somewhere you can be safe for a while." After saying so, she realized that she meant it. Despite the human's irksome tendencies, she truly didn't want those horrible things coming after him again. Drat. Chalk it up to that healer nature, she mused to herself.

An idea occurred to her: I don't really need this and I think it has something to do with magic... She reached into her pouch where she'd stuck the pendant earlier that day and pulled it out by the chain. "Here, take it back," she said simply, holding out her vine-patterned hand.

Phillip stared at the slightly luminous purple object for a long moment, then shook his head. He looked down at Meren and in the dim light she saw in his dark eyes an emotion she couldn't quite read. Is that concern? Before she could figure it out, though, he looked away again, but took her free hand in his for just a moment. "Take it with you, elf-girl. If the master you find is worthy, show it to him. It may help you. Otherwise, keep it a secret."

Meren could only nod dumbly, completely bewildered by his words and actions. This was the same person who had been a thorn in her side for years? Why was he being so helpful? Seemingly satisfied by her mute agreement, Phillip gave her a small smile. "Good. Stay safe, Meren."

His words echoing those spoken so recently by her brother left Meren even more speechless, and it wasn't until he'd walked out of sight westwards that she realized that she hadn't asked him why exactly he'd turned purple in the first place. As she walked across the stone bridge, she shook her head. If you couldn't trust your own curiosity, what could you trust? She couldn't help smiling to herself as she mentally answered her own question: spells to frequently be chaotic, a brother who always wanted to protect you and a human wizard to be dependably unpredictable. Now if only she could get that first one to function properly and the last two to realize that she could perfectly well take care of herself...

The End

Hidden Magic - Story, Part 7

Banner art by JackOfClubs (jack_spire on livejournal).
You can find the whole cover art here- JoC did a great job on it!
There's also a great mix/soundtrack that goes with this story- you can find that here.


Hidden Magic, Part 7
(Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,
Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 8)

When the smoke had cleared, the young man's drastic change of appearance had startled Meren, but she knew better than to mention it. If he reacted the way she assumed he would, his narcissism would be a horrible distraction and he was already distracting her enough. His previously tanned skin was now tinged a definite purple, as far as she could tell from the bits she could see, and that long hair of his was now scattered on the ground in black clumps, but even this was less strange than the fact that the purple smoke had returned when he'd spoken to her; this time, however, it was issuing from his mouth along with the words. Thankfully he didn't seem to notice this problem, either. Meren was no stranger to magical unexpectedness and she very much hoped she hadn't been the cause. This wasn't a reaction she'd ever experienced, but her magic regularly did some odd things. She had been reaching for the trees behind her when the smoke had surrounded him...

But that magic was her best chance at protecting her forest, and themselves, of course. The elf gave a silent prayer to the earth spirits to let her magic work this time and began the first words of the only spell she could think of that would help: the one that had given her such strange results last time. Focusing her power into the ground beneath her, she called to the roots, vines and bushes not far from where she knelt. This time the plants answered, to her relief, and she felt the green energy flow towards her. It moved quickly, much faster than it had done in the past, but she was able to keep it from pulling out of her grasp. When a thick tendril headed towards the man standing behind her, she forced it up rather than out.

Now sensing the familiar feeling of thick forest around her, she opened her eyes to glance up into a dense thicket of plant life that had once been a clearing and up at the only orc caught on this side of the thorny wall, who was about to beam her with a heavy club. Reacting rather than thinking, she rolled to the left, the ground jolting her ribs as she dove. She felt around frantically for her bow, knowing she would never be able to fire an arrow off at this close of range at such a disadvantage. The orc swung the club back but as he was bringing it back around, he flew over her into the new thicket. Meren climbed to her feet, rubbing her sore side. What happened? I didn't do that... The answer became clear, but surprising. Phillip, coughing uncontrollably with smoke blooming out of his mouth and looking quite ill under that new color, brought his quarterstaff back to the ground to lean heavily on it. Injured and clearly unable to breathe fully, the man had found enough strength to swing his staff around in her defense. This, as nothing else he'd done so far had, impressed the warrior-trained elf. Impressed and shocked; she honestly hadn't thought him capable of such an act, physically or by inclination.

As the man dropped to his knees in another coughing fit, Meren pushed through the circle of forest surrounding them to look for any sign of the other monsters. She circled outwards, finding bits of bone, which she kicked further apart in case they could somehow later reform. She assumed that as the trees grew, they'd pulled the slow-moving skeletons into pieces. This was a relief, but less of one was the lack of any orcs. Being much quicker on the uptake than the undead, they must have fled when the spell had begun. They hadn't seemed too happy to be working with skeletons in the first place, so perhaps trees springing up under their feet had pushed them too far. She only hoped that they'd become so frightened that they wouldn't come back.

Thinking they were at least safe for the moment, she retraced her footsteps back to where she'd left the human. Her knowledge of woodlands and a good sense of direction meant she was positive of this fact or else she would have thought she was in the wrong place. The small clearing now lacked any wizards, purple or no. Okay... Well, at least he's finally gone. This was mostly a relief but part of her had been wanting an answer about what had happened. Why skeletons? And why had the human's appearance shifted so drastically? This was certainly something she wanted to speak to her brother about. Kryro would be just as confused as she was, but perhaps he could reassure her that she wasn't going crazy. Maybe by now he's back at camp? That thought in mind, she headed back home.




The next part of the story can be found here.

Hidden Magic - Story, Part 6

Banner art by JackOfClubs (jack_spire on livejournal).
You can find the whole cover art here- JoC did a great job on it!
There's also a great mix/soundtrack that goes with this story- you can find that here.


Hidden Magic, Part 6
(Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7)

Meren retrieved the rope and stashed it back into her bag before turning to face the wizard again. Only then did she realize that she'd had her back to him the whole time, but he hadn't even moved. He had a sad, distant look on his face, as though he was thinking hard about something, and it wasn't until she'd walked over and poked him in the arm that he snapped out of it. As he blinked down at her, Meren noticed that his eyes were an uncanny shade of dark brown, almost a black. Is that normal for humans? she wondered, although this didn't hold her attention long. "I'll lead you to the edge of our lands. Be sure not to come across here again because the other guards won't be as kind."

"Trapping me in a hole is kind?" he asked bitterly. When he saw Meren frown again he bowed his head, letting his now rather-mussed long hair fall over his face, and clutched at his quarterstaff. "I didn't mean- look, thank you for getting me out and fixing me up. I do appreciate that, elf-girl."

Meren could tell that something was bothering him but wasn't sure if she should pry. Instead she just nodded as they began walking, or hobbling some, in his case. "It's fine. I do have a name, you know. It's Meren."

"Surprisingly pronounceable. I'll try to remember that for the next time I need a healer... not that if I get hurt, I'll wander around a forest, of course. And I'm Phillip, by the way." The wood elf was relieved to hear his voice take on a less cynical quality.

She couldn't resist asking, however, why a human wizard was wandering a forest. "Why were you here this time?"

There was that sad look on his face again and Meren almost felt bad for asking. Almost, because she knew herself to be far too inquisitive to let something like that go. "I'm trying to get home. My master-" he stopped in mid-sentence and began to look around again, frantically looking from side to side.

"Isn't here," Meren finished, assuming that that was who he was looking to avoid. She was sure of that; anyone wandering this area wouldn't be doing so undiscovered for long, whatever this master was.

As his dark eyes went large, the wood elf was sure that she'd hit a sore spot, or, rather, a paranoid crazy spot. He whispered to her, "No, you don't understand. He's... horrible, evil, unhinged. He may not be here, but what if one of his servants are?"

Now Meren was entirely confused. Why would servants be a problem? Didn't humans just use them for pouring tea or watching their children or something? Clearly this was a cultural misunderstanding. "Come again?"

Phillip shook his head and continued in a low voice, "You don't want to understand, elf-girl. Trust me."

The wood elf tried to shrug nonchalantly, but this actually had her somewhat worried. Whatever had gotten to the young man had obviously upset him and she didn't think he was faking that fear. Maybe if she changed the subject? "Alright, I won't ask. Where is your home?"

For some reason that subject did seem to calm him down and he loosened his grip on his quarterstaff, his knuckles fading from the white that they'd become. "Birchlyn. It's a village-"

"To the southwest," Meren answered with a smile, one mystery solved. So that was why he spoke Halfling! She knew that to be the nearest town to Woodedge, a halfling village and, oddly enough, where the shorter side of her family was from. Since he was local, that would mean that he at least had heard of the forest he'd ended up in. "You overshot when trying to get back there and ended up in the outskirts of Fayiron."

For the first time the elf saw the wizard give a genuine smile, which made him look a lot less haunted. "Then I am close to my destination. That is good to hear!"

Meren was extremely curious about those halflings who must have taught him their language; he was quite fluent, so it was likely that it wasn't something he'd picked up secondhand. She was just about to ask him more about his home when she was startled by horrible laughter to her right.

They'd left most of the trees behind them and Meren's curiosity had left her not to realize just how out in the open the two of them were, which wouldn't have been a problem, except for the group of monsters that seemed to have them surrounded. There was that orc the elf had wished for earlier and two more of its kin. But even worse than that were … well, they had to be what Phillip was talking about earlier.

Meren shuddered as she was hit with deja vu. Here was a handful- flock? Horde? Graveyard? Words flipped through her head- of skeletons, which were upright and walking towards them, clinking slightly as they moved. No wonder Phillip's so jumpy! she thought. Gripping her bow tightly, she drew an arrow from her quiver and put it to the string. If these things thought they could just stroll into her home, they had another thing coming to them, or so Meren hoped. She had a feeling arrows would only harmlessly go through the more boney enemies. She looked over at the man, her only backup in this mess. Phillip had frozen in place, his eyes wide again and he appeared to be trembling slightly. Meren sighed. Yeah, that's a big help.

Careful to keep the monsters in her line of sight, she kicked the wizard in the shin. It wasn't the injured one, but it hurt enough that he scowled at her, fear replaced by annoyance, which had been the elf's intention. "Now what?" she asked. Before the human could reply, one of the orcs began to speak.

---------------------------------------

"A new friend? Too bad for her we'll have to kill her, too," the orc said in the human tongue. Phillip glanced over at Meren, worried about her reaction to that statement. Upon seeing her expression of complete incomprehension, he realized she had no idea what the orc had said. One small favor there.

Taking a deep breath as he tried to keep his fear under control, he asked, "It was a waste of time to follow me, was it not? Don't you have something more important to do than follow one worthless apprentice?" Maybe they'd listen if he sounded like his master...

No such luck. The orcs only sneered at him while the skeletons, lacking faces with which to emote, remained still, which disturbed him even more. Maybe if I can get the green ones away, the creepier ones will follow, he thought as the skeletons continued to stare at him with empty eye sockets. He gave a shudder and looked over at the elf. She, too, hadn't moved further than to ready her bow and Phillip hoped she'd be be willing to cover for him with it if his idea didn't work.

The man reached into the neck of his robe with his free hand to retrieve the amulet he'd left hanging there and tugged the chain over his head. Assuming what he hoped was a powerful wizardly stance, but worrying he simply looked like a ragged, injured, terrified boy, he thrust the amulet forward. Doing his best to make his voice boom, he demanded, "Stand back or I'll unleash the full fury of this arcane amulet!"

To his amazement, this worked. Partly. The orcs stepped back, looking nervously between themselves. Phillip gave a quiet sigh of relief. Now can I get this thing to actually do something? For all that his master had desired it so much, he'd never actually used it, or if he had, it wasn't in his apprentice's presence. He concentrated deeply on the charm danging from his hand, trying to weave the power he controlled around it. Preoccupied by this, he didn't notice that Meren had begun chanting next to him. Since his eyes were directed at the item in his hand, however, he did take notice of its current state: the stone began flickering between purple and green. After a few seconds it settled on a deep blueish-purple, as though both colors had combined into one. He had only a moment to wonder about this, however.

Suddenly struck by what felt like a bolt of lightning, or as though a cat the size of an elephant had rubbed against his leg, he fell to his knees. As a cloud of purple smoke engulfed him, he began gasping to try to breathe through the heavy fog. His lungs felt on fire, his skin tingled, his head rang. What's going on? Never had his magic done anything like this, even as a new apprentice; the most he'd done was catch a book on fire, but this was a bigger problem than a bucket could fix.

As he gasped and wheezed, he felt something grope for his arm and he flinched back, knowing what kind of horrible things were near. When he saw the tattooed vines on the hand rather than bones or claws, he let out a sigh of relief, which caused him to break into another coughing fit. Leaning heavily on the elf and his staff, he was able to get to his feet as the smoke began to clear, but something was wrong... his lungs continued to ache and he felt a draft on the back of his neck, which contrasted greatly with the hot tingling of a moment before. And his hands, why did they look so discolored? Meren gave a gasp and he looked over to see her staring at him with her mouth open, but before he could ask, the sound of approaching rattling made him look past her. The monsters, no longer frightened since the smoke had all but dissipated, were approaching again. The orcs seemed to be staying as far from the skeletons as they could, but all were moving forward.

Phillip was at a complete loss. He couldn't run, he could barely breathe and what would happen to a spell if he couldn't stop coughing while trying to recite the necessary words? He was defenseless; all he'd be good for would be getting in Meren's way as the monsters sent after him got her, too. Perhaps if she could get back into the thick part of the forest, she'd lose them. He couldn't get away, but he had no reason to expect her not to want to flee.

His mind now made up in a decision he couldn't really comprehend, he found the elf's hand again. He dropped the amulet into it and whispered hoarsely, "Run, elf-girl. They want me, not you."

Her reaction surprised him as much as his own had. Meren looked up at him, her green eyes narrowed, and shook her head defiantly. "This is my home. My land. My magic. They have to get through me."

Before he could do more than blink at her vehement reaction, she dropped to the ground in a crouch, letting go of her bow to clutch the grass, keeping the amulet in her one hand. As the monsters neared, she began to chant in her unfamiliar airy language. Hoping she knew what she was doing, Phillip gripped his staff tightly with both hands, pushing back the pain in his ankle and the ache that still filled his lungs. If an elf was willing and brave enough to face monsters obviously arcane, then a wizard darn well could do the same.



Part 7 can be found here.

Hidden Magic - Story, Part 5

Banner art by JackOfClubs (jack_spire on livejournal).
You can find the whole cover art here- JoC did a great job on it!
There's also a great mix/soundtrack that goes with this story- you can find that here.


Hidden Magic, Part 5
(Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6)

Phillip wandered through the treeline in a stupor, leaning heavily on his new quarterstaff as he pushed through the undergrowth. The briars and thorn bushes snagged and ripped the hem of his black robe, but he hardly noticed this, so preoccupied by a memory he could not erase. His master had given up the illusion magic he'd excelled at and abandoned it in favor of Necromancy, the magic an Illusionist normally could not use any more than a snake could use a boot. Phillip still shuddered at the thought. And what the once-Illusionist had done with it... he shuddered again from the memory of those skeletons created when his master had looted a cemetery. He'd tried to convince the wizard not to do this, but Phillip had been so frightened and horrified that he'd ended up hiding when those pleas were ignored, invoking more anger when his master had realized his assistant was not there. The only thing going for the young wizard at that point was that the old man had been too preoccupied with his newly created servants to give much attention to the person he was supposed to be training.

The old wizard had been getting progressively more and more disturbing and this had been the last straw; grabbing what he could carry, his apprentice had fled. In hindsight, he should have left as soon as his master had begun slipping down that slope towards horrifyingly crazy, but Phillip had been holding out so that he could become a master wizard in his own right, not that it had become possible in the end. By that point his master had only been casting magic Phillip either could not or would not do. Caught not quite at the status of full Illusionist, but no longer truly an apprentice either, the young man had grabbed the amulet he'd recovered for his master years before on the way out, not trusting it to the warped old man, and with the vague hope that it could aid him in some way, possibly to fill in for the training he still lacked. Who would take in a mostly-trained twenty-six year old apprentice, anyway? That was why he hadn't left Bluecoast sooner; he'd had no idea of where to go.

He glanced down at the ash staff in his hands. It was a gift sent from his father, a skilled woodworker who knew nothing of magic but was aware that most wizards carried staves. He also knew that his son's favorite hobby was astronomy, or something with stars, anyway. That had always been a bit over his head, but the man had apparently caught on enough to know that it would be a good theme for an almost-wizard's staff. Seeing the intricate stellar carvings in the wood had sent a wave of sudden homesickness over the young wizard. A longing for a time when he didn't have to wonder what horrible monster he'd have to see that day (and that wasn't even counting his master...) had hit him like a ton of bricks. Home may not give him the new master he sought or the end to his training, but it was at least a destination.

He'd left the coast behind and headed west in a long trek back to his homeland. Slowed by the fact that he constantly felt the need to look over his shoulder in case skeletons or something worse were at his heels, he had made it two-thirds of the way when this pensiveness left him lost. He thought he'd been following a trail through sparse woodland but he had lost track of it.

Walking slowly in a small circle to try to at least get a bearing of which way north lay, he heard a snap and was dropped into a large pit. As he tried to push himself to his feet, he heard a quieter snap; the cause of this was readily apparent by the terrible pain in his left ankle. Trying to keep from blacking out, he used the staff to support his weight so he could survey the hole which he was beginning to suspect was actually a trap. The evenness of the dirt walls validated this assumption and the arrow drawn and aimed down from above the pit proved it. Yes, this most certainly was not his year.

He raised one hand up in surrender, the other being far too busy holding him upright to join its brethren. He began to wonder if he could fire off any sort of spell without falling over when this was interrupted when the figure said, "It's you again?" He recognized that voice and now very much wished he had a way to get out of here.

Grimacing at the pain that shot up his leg, he shuffled backwards until his back hit the dirt wall. Of all the elf traps he could have fallen into, it was the one she was guarding. At least this particular elf wasn't likely to actually fire at him- or so he hoped. He stared up and wondered if he should duck. As is probably obvious, the language the archer had spoken was Halfling.

----------------------------------------------

Meren patrolled the forest alone. Occasionally Kryro had to report to his own tribe and this was one of those times. Wanting to stay on guard, however, she'd managed to convince her father to allow her to do so on her own. She still wasn't sure how she'd accomplished this, but she had a hunch. The centaur had kept insisting that she had magic, which she denied at first because wood elves were not magical, but soon she had started to experiment, figuring that it was a sort of weapon and it would be foolish to not use everything at her disposal to protect the forest and elf camp. This she kept secret from all but her brother and had tried to not use it anywhere near where her kin could possibly see; as well as being unmagical, elves were rather... superstitious about it, and that was putting it nicely, but she had a feeling that some magic had been working through her as she'd argued with her father. Her fingers had felt tingly, a sure sign that she was pulling energy again, and his green eyes had taken on a glazed quality while she was speaking. She hadn't stuck around to see if she'd truly been the cause and had hurried out as soon as she'd gotten his approval just in case she had done some sort of spell and said magic wore off.

So alone she roamed. Alone until she spotted a glint in a place that shouldn't have anything shiny. Sneaking forward in her soft leather boots, Meren crept behind some ferns and low greenery to get a closer look ahead. The glitter was coming from the sun reflecting off the silver-embossed tip of a wooden quarterstaff. The elf rolled her eyes. She was all for using bits of fallen trees as weaponry, but why wrap something so ostentatious around it?

When the figure turned, the reason became clearer- it was that blasted infuriating wizard again, wasn't it? Meren still wasn't sure what to make of him but knew she didn't want him roaming around her forest. Although was it more out of wanting him gone as she'd want any intruder to leave or was it not wanting a more trigger-happy scout to find this particular nuisance? The elf sighed. Trapping him would be best. Closing her eyes and trying to focus the green energy of the forest into doing her favorite spell, the energy decided that it had its own desire, as the elf had occasionally found to happen. Instead of the forest reaching out and rapidly growing into a dense thicket, it remained in place, but what didn't remain in place was the ground between her and the human. The black-clad man gave a startled gasp as the dirt under his feet vanished, then a yelp of pain as he apparently hit the bottom of the pit that had appeared under his feet. Well, that works, too, she thought with a shrug.

She put an arrow to her bowstring out of habit and crept forward to the edge of the pit. Now getting a good look at the man's rather pain-filled face, she saw that it was indeed who she'd thought it was. Unfortunately. Why couldn't she be rid of this human for good? I guess bats weren't enough to scare him away, she grumbled to herself.

"It's you again? You're trespassing on guarded lands." Why did she want to add "again"? The last time she'd had the pleasure of his acquaintance, he hadn't been in the forest. She could almost recall... she shook her head. No matter, that wasn't important.

"Would it help if I said I didn't realize where I was?" he asked hopefully, giving what she thought was far too innocent of a look.

Meren sighed again. He likely wasn't going to be a threat to the forest but why was he here? She lowered her bow and cursed at the complication that had presented itself. She was almost wishing she'd found an orc blundering through the underbrush instead.

Well, if he really had hurt his leg, as it appeared from his stance, he wasn't going to be able to move fast if she got him out of the hole. The trick would just be not to turn her back on him, which she vaguely recalled had been her mistake last time. And this time she had magic at her disposal, as well. She patted the pouch at her hip where she'd begun storing the bits of plants and miscellaneous trinkets that seemed to make her magic function better- usually, although that latest spell fumble could attest to this not always being the case- to reassure her that it was still in place. She gave a small smirk. Yes, she'd be alright even without her brother to back her up.

Leaning down over the pit, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I suppose I can let you out. But try anything and you'll find another pit beneath your feet." Not that she could likely duplicate a result like that, but he didn't have to know that. When the young man shook his head frantically, she asked, "Do you think you can climb?"

The human bit his lip, but nodded. "I'll have to try."

Meren took a few steps back and looked around for a tree to which she could knot the end of her rope. Luckily her misplaced spell had backfired in the middle of the woods instead of a desert, so she was able to find a good sized one. Pulling the grey rope out of her satchel, she knotted the one end around the tree trunk and dropped the other end down into the hole.

The wizard hobbled over and lobbed his staff up and out. It took all of his strength, but he was able to pull himself out. Once back on the surface, however, he sat down heavily, his face gone ashen, clearly hurt from that injured leg.

He's never going to get out of my forest that way, Meren thought, but pity was beginning to take the place of her irritation and she began to riffle through her bag to try to locate her healing supplies. Her mother had been the tribe's healer and had passed that knowledge on to the young elf; Meren had always assumed that the reason she was less inclined to automatic violence than the rest of her kin was because you don't really want to hurt something when you become used to patching things up instead.

Finding what she needed, she crouched down next to the human and began to tug at his boot. He immediately gave a shriek of pain and swatted her hands away. "What are you doing, elf-girl?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

The frown she gave made him shrink back; momentarily puzzled that he should find her threatening when she was clearly trying to help, she answered calmly, "You're hurt or have you not noticed? I was going to wrap that up for you until you can find a healer, but if you'd rather just sit here alone in an area known to be patrolled by wild cats, that's your choice." Okay, so that was a lie, but maybe he'd let her help if he thought trouble would approach soon.

His eyes wide, he began to look around desperately, as though Meren had brought an assortment of large pet cats with her. Holding back a chuckle, she grabbed his boot again. This time he remained still and allowed her to work, but it wasn't until she'd finished and given him some herbs to chew on to help with the pain- this time not lying about that, although she'd been tempted to hand him some simple tea leaves instead- that the color began to return to his face. Using the staff to get to his feet, the young man tested his ankle. He winced slightly, but this time didn't look about to faint, which Meren considered a job well done.

"You did well. Thank you," he told her, his voice sounding sincere.

Meren shrugged as she got to her feet and began putting the herbalism kit back into her bag. She didn't really know what to say to that because she probably shouldn't have helped him. Even her brother would have left him in the pit... or perhaps not. Kryro wasn't like the rest of her kin, either, and would probably have lifted him out of the hole, but only to leave him injured and to his own devices.



Part 6 can be found here.

Hidden Magic - Story, Part 4

Banner art by JackOfClubs (jack_spire on livejournal).
You can find the whole cover art here- JoC did a great job on it!
There's also a great mix/soundtrack that goes with this story- you can find that here.


Hidden Magic, Part 4
(Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5)

It appears that the centaur was right, Phillip mused to himself as he crossed the undeniably empty village. There was nothing. He could have charged in here with an army and trumpets blaring and there wouldn't have been any more reaction. There was also a definite lack of any centaurs; he'd passed many a monster corpse, but no sign of anyone not green and none of those once-monsters had on them anything remotely like what his master was seeking, either. About to give up the search and grumbling once again about this stupid quest, he jumped when he saw what appeared to be a ball of flame shoot up towards the sky not far to his left.

Quickly snatching up a rock and pulling a piece of lightly-glowing phosphorescent moss from the pouch at his belt, he muttered a few words and waved his fingers above both objects, causing the rock to emit a bright glow. This was likely a waste of magic, but he didn't feel like fumbling through his pack for a torch and he wanted to hurry to see what caused the blast without tripping over something in the rapidly fading light. Rock in hand, he scurried forward. If nothing else, he could beam anything that approached with the stone, as unlikely as that would be in this ghost town.

Phillip figured there there was no need to be silent and began softly calling out when he neared the spot he reckoned the blast had come from. As he approached yet more fallen masonry, he heard a weak shout come from somewhere nearby. Whatever it was, it wasn't a language he knew, but it didn't sound threatening so he bravely followed it. He was led to a small hole in what seemed to be a recently collapsed building. Holding the glowing rock above his head to try to see in the gap, he was startled by two gleaming green eyes staring up. Whatever the eyes belonged to said something; from the tone of voice, it was probably something like "help," although for all he knew, it could have been saying "artichoke."

"Stand back," he informed whatever was down there, not that it could understand him. "I'm going to drop this in so we can see." He could always make another lit rock if he had to.

Whatever was down there stopped blathering, like it- no, definitely a she. Possibly that centaur? How am I supposed to lift a horse up, anyway?- knew he was trying to help. He saw the eyes move back a pace and he dropped the stone. As she reached down to grab it hesitantly like she was afraid it would be hot, Phillip was again surprised. She was neither the centaur he'd been expecting nor the orc he feared it would be (or was it the other way around?). Instead, staring up at him with eyes so frightened and wide that he could clearly make out the whites, was a young elf. She appeared to be in her late teens, but with elves that guess could be decades off, garbed in mostly leather in shades of what must have once been russet and brown but were now almost uniformly grey; even the green tattoos that wound around most of the skin Phillip could see were mostly a dull, grimy grey. Her pulled-back brown hair had fallen partly out of its tie and was also caked in dust.

"Here, I'll throw down a rope," he told her. It wasn't until he saw the shocked look of comprehension on her face and her frantic nod that he realized he hadn't spoken in his language, but the Halfling tongue, the language he'd learned as a child and had rarely used since. Now why would I say that to an elf? he began to wonder, but shook his head. Whatever the reason, she seemed to know that, anyway. "Hold on," he added as he reached into his bag for the rope he'd picked up at the wall.

He dropped this down and within seconds the girl had scampered up it, weighing surprisingly little. Phillip realized why when she got to her feet after first giving what sounded like a small prayer of thanks to the ground. For all that she looked near his age, she was about a foot shorter than he was, which was normal for an elf, he supposed. The frantic, scared look was now gone from her eyes to the human's relief; he'd had no idea how to deal with a violent centaur and would have had even less of an idea of what to do with a frightened elf.

Dipping her head slightly, she said, "Thank you greatly for getting me out of there! I'm terrified of being underground." Even just speaking of this made her appear uncomfortable; she bit her bottom lip and stepped farther away from the crumbled building.

The human was about to brag about how it was no big deal and how he rescued young women on a regular basis when she snatched the rope out of his hands. "Wait a second, this is my rope, isn't it? Did my brother send you over?"

Thrown off by the fact that a girl was unmoved by his chivalry, he could only blink at the last part of her questioning. "That was your brother? He said he was looking for a sister, but I'd assumed that was another centaur." He looked off into the distance like the rampaging horse-man was coming after him with a log. "He was frightening! Err... no offense intended," he added hastily.

The elf... halfling? Was was he getting the idea of both from her, anyway? The elf did something he wasn't expecting. She broke into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Kryro? Frightening? What, did he get tangled in a tree and bring it down on you?"

Okay, that was maybe why he thought "halfling"; she certainly sounded like the ones he'd known. But she didn't have to be so dismissive of what he'd said, either. Crossing his arms over his chest, Phillip frowned. "I'm serious. There was a tree involved and he was beating a gate with it."

The elf looked at him for a second, then raised an eyebrow, shifting the vine tattoos near her eyes, which Phillip should have found disturbing, but for some reason didn't. He was glad when she interrupted that thought by saying, "You're serious? He must really have been worried. He doesn't usually-" A thought seemed to occur to her; did all elves jump annoyingly from subject to subject like this? "But how did you find me?"

"There was a ball of fire," Phillip started to answer. He stared. Surely this small elf hadn't... "Did you do that?" Was she a wizard, too? He didn't think elves, or at least any kind of elf colored to look like a tree, had wizards, but where else would that fireball have come from?

The girl looked confused, then thoughtful. Moving the glowing rock from hand to hand, she fidgeted. "I thought I'd imagined that. I was so frightened and worried.... then this necklace thing I picked up felt warm and then that..." she fumbled for words, "fire thing happened."

Now Phillip finally noticed the simple necklace hanging from her neck. In the light of the uncanny rock, it almost seemed to have a dim green glow. Was this what his master was looking for? He tried to recall exactly what the old wizard had said about it as they made their way over to the nearest part of the wall. But from what the girl said and what he thought he remembered about it... yes, it was likely one and the same as the item he sought. And even if it wasn't, something powerful enough to cause elves to shoot magic flame would likely be almost as good of a prize in the eyes of his master. How to get it off the girl, though...

As the elf secured the rope so they could climb back down from the wall, he asked as nonchalantly as he could in an attempt to keep his voice free of that hope of possible impending freedom, "Were you going to keep that?"

She looked confused by his question. "I did find it. Yes, I am."

Phillip cursed silently to himself. Trying to act as charming as possible, he asked, "But do you think I could have it? I did rescue you."

The elf almost looked as though she was going to agree then quickly shook her head. "No. If it's all the same, I'd rather keep it. This could come in handy."

He gave another mental curse, this time stronger. He'd have to do what he should and normally would have done in the first place. Why was this girl making him act so strangely? He began to chant softly, counting on her apparent lack of knowledge of his language to disguise what he was saying, and moved his hands in a theatrical gesture which he, however, couldn't hide. She had time to ask, "What are you-" before she crumpled to the ground, this time deep in sleep. He gently removed the chain with the now purple glow from around her neck and thought briefly of leaving her there and darting off, but that voice inside that he was coming to recognize and rather dislike instead made him pick her up and swing her over his shoulder. He dropped the chain over his neck and bent down to retrieve the torch-stone she'd dropped. Then, moving clockwise around the wall, he headed to where he'd last seen the centaur.

--------------------------------------------------

Kryro was not happy. His sister had been in there for days now and that human still had not come back, either. He knew he shouldn't have trusted a shady-looking young human, but what choice had he had? He was probably long gone by now, having stolen Meren's rope and likely using it to scale from a side not visible to the centaur. Blasted two-leggers. Cannot trust any of them. Elves excluded, he added hastily, Those you could always just trust to do something thickheaded and dangerous.

When he saw the human come around the wall carrying some sort of light in his hand, Kryro had been about to take those silent insults out on him when he realized the man was also carrying an unconscious and rather grimy Meren. "What happened to her?" the centaur demanded, galloping over to them.

The young man lowered the elf gently, Kryro was glad to see, to the ground. He hesitated for a moment, then stood confidently, brushing at the embroidered stars on his black robe. "I think she was hit in the head. She should be coming around soon, but you should probably get her out of here."

You do not have to tell me that twice, Kryro thought to himself. He knelt down, never a fast motion when graced with so many legs, and felt her forehead. Or tried to. The centaur yanked his arm back when a spark leapt over to his hand.

Luckily that spark seemed to shake her awake; she gave an "Ouch!" and opened her eyes. Blinking up at the centaur, her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. "You're green," she mumbled dazedly in Halfling.

Kryro looked down to see what she meant. Nope, still the same shades of brown he had always been. And why was she using that language, anyway? Now it was his turn for confusion. "Meer, are you alright? Why would I be green?"

Rubbing her head, Meren sat up. Still speaking that language, she muttered, "Feel all tingly..."

Yes, that really answered that one. He looked over at the human who was still standing there. Still there, but looking posed to run away. Realizing the centaur's gaze was in his direction, the man gave a sheepish shrug. Kryro had been called many things: large, good with languages, clumsy, horsebutt (Gee, thank you for that one, Meer), but never stupid. He knew that human was hiding something.

Dazed though she was, Meren was on top of this. How she was on top of it, though, left Kryro even more disturbed. She blinked at the man a time or two, then switched that to a vindictive glare as she climbed quickly to her feet. Without any hesitation, she spoke low in Elvish. To the centaur's bewilderment, it sounded much like "Winged mice of the forest, aid me". Wondering what she meant and thinking she must really have hurt her head, he saw her gesture towards the wood behind them, then point at the human, whose necklace momentarily flickered between purple and green. The young man was now most certainly not looking comfortable. When a swarm of bats flew out of the treetops and towards his head, he became even less so. Giving a yelp, he turned and ran, trying to outrun something that could move far faster than he.

This left Kryro satisfied, but also incredibly worried and even more disconcerted. Before he could ask Meren what in the name of the earth spirits had just happened, he saw her collapse to her knees, looking visibly drained. The centaur had the presence of mind to catch her before she fell and held her steady. "What is going on?" he demanded, his voice breaking from worry.

Meren blinked at him. "I don't... what happened?"

It was rather fuzzy to the centaur. Why did this feel so familiar? "There was a human here. You threw... bats... at him." He wasn't sure if he wanted that memory to clear up or not, it seemed so strange.

The elf looked perplexed for a moment, then simply nodded. If Kryro had to guess, he would say she was simply too overwhelmed and tired to care about flying things, a fact which was bothering him greatly. That had looked suspiciously like magic, but she was no shaman...

The centaur shook his head. Whatever Meren was or was not, she was still his sister and he still had to get her home safely. "Just get on my back."

Dazedly she started to argue, "But centaurs don't let people-"

"Most centaurs do not have exhausted elven sisters who have been throwing woodland creatures around until they appear ready to fall over for a second time," he pointed out.

That long sentence was clearly too much for her to comprehend in her current state. She obeyed, climbing up and wrapping her arms around his chest to keep in place. As they fled back into the woods, Kryro felt warmth on his chest. Looking down, he saw that emerald sparks were flashing between Meren's hands and grounding on his skin. It didn't hurt, but it tingled slightly and he wondered if this was the feeling she'd mentioned earlier. Whatever it was, he hoped it was harmless, but knew Meren would never do anything to hurt him. ...or at least the Meren he knew would not. The fact that his sister was sparking and summoning nocturnal animals had him worried; centaurs and wood elves were not keen on magic, to say the least. We better not tell her father, he decided, his gut telling him that this would be wise.




Part 5 can be found here.

Hidden Magic - Story, Part 3

Banner art by JackOfClubs (jack_spire on livejournal).
You can find the whole cover art here- JoC did a great job on it!
There's also a great mix/soundtrack that goes with this story- you can find that here.


Hidden Magic, Part 3
(Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 4)

The young man inched around the wall, careful not to make a sound. He was lurking here because of a quest given by his master. A quest, he grumbled internally, Right. To find some stupid item that he only heard rumors about. So of course the apprentice has to go on this fool's errand.

To make matters worse, leads that he had followed had led him to believe that it did in fact exist and was located here, in the same place as a group of orcs and who knew what else. Phillip knew, though, that if he came back empty handed, or at least without bearing word of its whereabouts, his master would not be at all pleased- and that would be an understatement. The old wizard had never been particularly kind, but over the past year or two he'd become downright... well, evil, in his apprentice's opinion, although "crazy," "paranoid" and "shady" would be other words said apprentice would throw into the mix, although most definitely not while in his master's presence. He liked his feet where they were, thank you very much.

As inane as this task was, perhaps if he retrieved that magic amulet for his master it would allow him to lose some of that horrible paranoia and return to normal... or at least to the level of eccentricity normal for a spellcaster. If nothing else, maybe it would please the old man enough that he'd finally advance his apprentice to full Illusionist, meaning Phillip could get as far away from Bluecoast as possible and never have to deal with that madman again.

So maybe this search wasn't so pointless after all.

Phillip had heard no sound coming from within while looping his way around most of the wall so he was surprised when a ruckus of clangs and thumps sounded from nearby. Stepping away from the wall to look around the curve of the stone, he spotted something that surprised him even further: a male centaur slamming an iron gate with what the young man could only think of as a tree. As he watched, the stallion- was that a term for someone with the top half of a human?- tossed the large log aside and with a growl of frustration, began pulling at the gate with his bare hands, accomplishing nothing more than rattling the iron.

Most of Phillip was telling him to quickly head the other way, as far from this angry beast as possible, but curiosity led him forward. Still moving silently in his soft boots, the young man crept forward, stopping a few yards away just as the horse-man gave another shout. As he watched, the centaur seemed to deflate; he gave one more shout of frustration, then bowed his head low, bringing his hands up to his head to pull at his already disheveled brown hair.

Unsure of what to do with a very distraught centaur, Phillip cleared his throat. Instead of jumping, as the young man expected he would, the centaur just turned slowly to face the sound. As the human got a good look at him, he realized why: for all the strength the centaur had been exhibiting, he appeared to be utterly exhausted.

When the centaur spotted the young man, his bleary brown eyes widened. Before Phillip could say anything, the centaur spoke up. "Please! Your aid I need. My sister in there be!" And here was another surprise: the pleading centaur spoke his language. Heavily accented, but perfectly understandable.

Understandable, but also unfortunately demanding. "Woah. Hold on," Phillip said, his arms held out in front of him. "There are orcs in there. I can't just wander in and ask they hand someone over."

The centaur shook his head hastily, his long hair flying. "No! Gone most of them should be. Her kin cleared them out and left, but never did she leave."

That didn't sound too hopeful. "But how do you know she's-" Phillip began to ask.

The centaur glared at him with enough hostility to cause the young man to take a few steps back. "Their injured they removed and with them she was not. Inside she must then still be. Get her, I would, but," he now directed his glare at the gate and Phillip was almost surprised not to see this one melt like what had apparently once happened to the one to the west, "enter I cannot."

Biting his lip, he again turned to look at the human. "Gone the orcs all should be. For now. Get her out before more come, I would like. For her please look."

Phillip sighed. This was not how he wanted to spend his day and any other time he'd have hurried away from such a request, but... he did have to get inside anyway, especially if it were true and the orcs were all vanquished at the moment, so this would be a chance to appear to do something heroic without that being his actual goal. And a small part of him actually wanted to help... he chose to ignore that voice and said, "I could try, I suppose... but how would I get in?"

The centaur turned and pointed to a rope dangling from the wall to the west which Phillip hadn't noticed. It blended so well into the grey of the stone that unless you knew it was there, it wouldn't be seen. "To get in that did she use." There was such intense entreaty in his eyes that Phillip had to look away. "So look for her you will?"

Phillip nodded slightly and the centaur gave a whoop and a swish of his tail, the human noted, and said, "Wait for you here I shall."

The young man walked over to the rope, tugging it to be sure of its strength. It seemed okay, so he quickly tied back his long hair and tucked his robe into his belt and began to scale it. It wasn't until he had reached the top of the wall, stored the rope on his pack and located a set of stairs leading down into the town that the thought occurred to him, Wait, how did a centaur get over the wall using a rope?

--------------------------------------------------

Meren groggily opened her eyes and blinked dazedly at the dim light. Where am I? She thought sluggishly. She groaned and sat up, rubbing the back of her head. Ugh, I feel like a building fell on me... as she looked up at the small hole in the wood ceiling that was letting in the fading evening light, she recalled that it technically had. Groping around for her backpack, she found it near her feet. This she began digging through but quickly threw down with a frustrated curse. She'd left her grappling hook and rope behind on the wall, hadn't she? She'd been in such a hurry to explore that not only was it now no use for her, anything could use it to get in... but who would want to get in to a village of orcs?

Right, orcs, that's why she was here! Rubbing her head again, she stood and listened for any sound. Nothing. She could call out, but would alerting monsters to her location be wise? Probably not. But as the light faded, she now cursed the lack of something else in her bag: a torch, a candle, anything that lit. She'd never needed one before, being able to see fairly well in moonlight, so it had never occurred to her to carry a light source. Maybe there was something here she could use?

Dropping to the ground, she began poking around, her hand finding shapeless and unidentifiable debris, but nothing that had potential for fire. Poking around further, she located her bow, thankfully still in one piece; this she unstrung and tucked into her quiver, as it was little use at the moment and she didn't want to lose it again. Returning to her exploration, something sharp brushed her finger. She snatched her hand back and wrapped it quickly in the fold of her tunic. Now realizing that it was stupid to fumble around blindly, she half stood so she could feel along with her boot- then immediately fell back over when she tripped on something that rolled. Reaching down to see what she'd kicked, she instantly regretted it. It was smooth and cool; it felt like bone. Grimacing, she prodded forward and, yes, that was a skeleton, alright. Ugh. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. About to climb back to her feet to get as far away from this as possible, her hand knocked something that skittered across the dirt floor. Torn between disgust, some amount of panic at being underground, and curiosity, curiosity won out.

On hands and knees she went across the floor, now on the lookout for more glass and dead things, and soon found what she'd flung away: some kind of cold stone thing on a chain. Unsure of why she did so as it was absolutely no help in the dark, she dropped the chain over her head. Not knowing what else to do, she inched her way over to the wall. Was it really that close? Hadn't the area seemed... larger a moment ago? Was it a moment ago? How much time had passed since she fell down here? Meren shut her eyes tightly and grasped at the stone lying against her chest. Morning had to come soon, right? Perhaps in the light she'd magically be able to to see a ladder out of here. Right, she thought, and 'Ro will lead a centaur rescue party that's magically able to climb walls. May as well wish for the unattainable.

Light shining off some sort of mirror on the floor and into Meren's eyes woke her. Stretching out kinks from sleeping in a corner, she stood. Her view was no better by the filtered slight light of morning. No magical ladder or grappling hook- or centaur rescue party- greeted her. What she did learn, however, was that the skeleton had been staring at her all that time. This made her shudder and take a step back against the wall. Judging from the shape of its skull, it had been some sort of goblinoid. This didn't bother her too much at first, but as the day wound on and the little light filtering through the crack in the ceiling began to fade again, something was really starting to bother her: the lack of sky, trees, fresh air, locations without dead goblins... Would alerting potential monsters be any worse than another night spent underground? At this point, that would be a definite no. Unable to help herself, she started calling out. She shouted her brother's name, general pleading and cursing in shifts, anything to catch the attention of something, anything.

But this was to no avail. Shouting until she was hoarse and exhausted, Meren grasped for her waterskin, drinking the last few drops. She needed to do something to alert Kryro that she was here- he had to still be out there!- but nothing was down here except some trash and a goblin skeleton. That grinned at her somewhere in the darkness. Underground in a space that seemed to be getting smaller by the minute... Oh no, what had she gotten herself into?

Exhausted and starting to hyperventilate, she sunk to the ground directly under the gap in the ceiling, trying to get as far away from those walls as possible. Again she clutched at the stone laying against her leather armor; it was something vaguely green and gold, as she'd been able to make out in the dim light of day. She began to feel it grow warm and figuring she was growing delusional from being caught in the one place a wood elf would never voluntarily go, or possibly delirious from lack of water and that knot on the back of her head, she ignored this and instead called in a cracking voice, "Kryro, get help! I'm here!" Something made her point up at the bit of moonlight and she was shocked to see a bright flickering of flame shoot out of her hand. That got her to stop stressing about being underground. Staring at her hand in utter disbelief, she wondered if she was truly going mad. Elves don't spawn fire... she muttered to herself in a daze. She could almost hear that ex-goblin laughing. Covering her pointed ears with her hands and closing her eyes tightly, she silently willed her brother to get her out, Somehow, please! He always called himself her protector which she'd begrudgingly went along with, not feeling as though she had need of one. But at the moment? I take back every time I glared at you for saying that. Just get me back to the forest! With her eyes closed, she failed to notice that now some light did exist in the old cellar. The amulet had turned a shining green.



Part 4 can be found here.

Hidden Magic - Story, Part 1

Banner art by JackOfClubs (jack_spire on livejournal).
You can find the whole cover art here- JoC did a great job on it!
There's also a great mix/soundtrack that goes with this story- you can find that here.


Hidden Magic, Part 1
(Prologue, Part 2)

"Meer, snap out of it."

The young wood elf looked down from her vantage point in the lowest branch of a mulberry tree to see her scouting partner giving her an exasperated look, an expression she was all too used to seeing on his tan face. He stood with his hands on his hips... flank... whatever it was called. Even after years of being his constant companion, she was still not sure which terms to use regarding her brother. She had, however, learned that he very much disliked the nickname "horsebutt," so of course she used it whenever possible. He wasn't her sibling by blood, which would be even stranger than her actual heritage, but sometimes life hands you family you wouldn't predict, and she certainly hadn't expected to find a colt in her tribe's storage tent a decade ago, asleep on a large bag of grain.

Meren made a face down at the centaur. "We're on guard. I'm keeping watch. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that you have been on that branch most of the morning and you have traps to check, which I am fairly certain you cannot do from a tree."

The wood elf briefly wondered if this would in fact be possible to do by traveling from branch to branch and tree to tree, but realized he unfortunately did have a point, irritating though it was. "Alright. I'll go." She paused, then admitted sheepishly, nodding towards the north, "I'm just wondering about the town out there."

Kryro looked puzzled and tilted his head to the side. "Why? What about an abandoned human village draws the attention of an elf away from what she should be doing?"

The wood elf chuckled wryly. "Oh, come on, 'Ro. You know we were sent to this border because nothing ever happens here." When she saw that he was about to speak again, she added, "And I don't know, okay? It just has me curious."

She swung down from the branch and joined her much taller companion on the ground, hardly making a sound as she landed in last season's debris.

"If you're so keen on checking them, let's-" she was interrupted by an abrupt "snap" to the east, followed by a muffled shout of some kind.

Kryro gave her an "I told you so" look. Spirits, did she hate it when he did that! He said, "Sounds like snare number three may have caught something interesting."

Meren shrugged, still not wanting to admit that he had been right. "We'll see about 'interesting'. Likely it's just a squirrel or a goblin or something," she said, thinking nothing was strange about listing small woodland animals and humanoid monsters in the same category of nuisance.

The two snuck quietly towards the trap, or as quietly as someone with hooves was able to be, and the elf continued ahead, being far more light on her feet. Well, that's certainly not an orc, she thought to herself as she eyed their visitor. What they'd caught wasn't the monster (or fuzzy thing) she'd been expecting; dangling by his ankles from the rope snare was what appeared to be a human, a young man who would probably have been rather attractive if not upside down with his face turning red, flailing at his black and silver robe to get it out of the way. To Meren's surprise, though, the man seemed to be able to wiggle like a fish. Within moments he'd writhed out of that robe, dropping it to the ground below his trailing dark hair, and had produced a dagger from... somewhere. Seemingly with little effort, he'd swung himself up and was reaching for the rope caught around his legs.

Meren had been so surprised by the fact that someone not appearing to be of elf-kind could move that way that she almost forgot her job. Mentally cursing herself for being so distracted, she moved to grab her blowgun from off her belt. She quickly stuck a dart inside and fired it off. A lucky shot- the barb stuck in the young man's hand. He gave a startled exclamation that could only be a curse and dropped the dagger, which landed point-down in his discarded robe. Surely not able to know where it came from, because she knew her green tattoos and forest-colored leathers and clothing blended her into the woods flawlessly, he still glared off in her general direction as he swung loosely back down, stretching to try to snatch up the hilt just beyond his fingertips.

Afraid that he just might be able to contort enough to reach, Meren called out, "Do not move or I'll fire something worse."

The man froze, but from the look on his inverted face, it was more out of confusion than fright. He said something again that Meren didn't understand. Now she was regretting leaving her brother behind as he was far better at languages than she. Trying one of the few phrases he'd taught her in the human tongue, she tried again. "Do not move. Trespassing you be."

Here he said something again, once again not anything the elf understood. Very much wishing she'd had her sleeping potion-filled darts on her rather than the plain barbs so she and Kryro could just do their usual "knock out and drag from the forest" act, she drew her bow and silently strung it. She was not keen on firing at someone trapped, but perhaps she could frighten him? Nocking an arrow, she stepped out towards the human.

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but the man crossing his arms across his chest and saying rather confidently in the language of the smaller forest folk, "Aren't you awfully tall for a halfling?" certainly wasn't it.

How had he known? Only other elves had ever been able to pick up on the fact that she was a half-breed. She looked down, but no, her feet were hidden away in boots. This young man was most certainly strange- a dexterous human who spoke Halfling and could pinpoint a hidden race? Although if he knew halflings, that could partially explain his level of coordination...

Breaking off her stream of thought, she answered in the same language. "I am an elf. You're trespassing on our land."

The human shrugged, which must have been difficult to do while upside down because his shirt got tangled on his shoulders for a moment. "And how was I to know? There were no signs, no warnings."

"This is the warning. You have crossed our border."

Now the black haired man looked rather less confident. "This is a warning? I'd hate to see the threat."

Meren raised an eyebrow, causing the green tattoos on her face to shift, and lowered her bow. "You wouldn't, believe me. Most of my kin don't even give warnings." Why had she told him that? Wood elves weren't supposed to share information with outsiders, but there was something about this man that caused Meren not to follow protocol.

Kryro, on the other hand, wasn't so kind. His large club raised in what Meren considered a rather threatening manner, he came forward. Nothing like a seven and a half foot tall horse-man to inspire fright where a small elf could not. The human gulped. "Look, I'm sorry. Can you let me down? I'll leave."

Meren frowned, then gave a small shrug. "Alright." She nodded to Kryro and he reached up to unknot the rope, not looking overly pleased to do so.

The man fell, but was able to turn the drop into a kind of cartwheel. Kryro rolled his eyes, clearly not amused by this show of acrobatics. Tugging on his robe, now containing a rip in the right sleeve from the dropped dagger, the human said shortly in Halfling, "Watch it, horse."

Now Kryro's annoyance turned into a glare. As the centaur reset the snare, he replied coolly in the same language, "And you should watch what you say, two-legger." The human's dark eyes widened and Meren stifled a snicker.

The man held his hands up in a complaisant manner. "Sorry sorry. Chalk it up to a bad day. I meant nothing by it."

Meren had to choke back another laugh at the snort of contempt her brother made. Yes, this was rather interesting. "You must leave the forest, but... how did you know I wasn't fully elven?" she couldn't help asking the newcomer.

He smiled sheepishly. "I used to know some halflings when I was young. Something about you reminded me of them."

'Young'. Meren knew enough about humans to know that this one couldn't have been any more than twenty, meaning this was recently. Or "recently," coming from a half-elf, anyway. She wondered if those were ones she was related to, but before she could ask, Kryro cleared his throat. "Yes, yes, how convenient that you speak her language. Meren, let him go." Switching to Elvish, he told her, "You know quite well that you are not supposed to be friendly towards intruders."

Which she did know, quite clearly, but... she'd always had a problem being as reticent as the rest of her kin. And this human intrigued her. Still, she did have a border to protect. "I must lead you to the edge of the forest, mysterious Halfling-speaking person. There's an old human village that way," she gestured vaguely north, "where you could possibly get your bearings from."

The man shrugged, as if the prospect of getting lost didn't bother him, but was it her imagination or did he startle when she mentioned the village? He looked over at the centaur distrustfully and whispered to the elf with a small smile, "Thank you. Sorry to have caused a problem."

Now it was Meren's turn to shrug as she tried to hide her embarrassment. As they led him through the woods, Kryro stayed a pace behind, acting far too much like he was guarding her for her liking. Surely this man wasn't a threat? He seemed rather nice. And someone who was sneaking around the forest with no apparent reason to do so, a logical voice inside her chimed in. Giving a mental shrug, she drowned out that voice with the thought, No matter. He's leaving now and won't return. So far no one she or her brother had sent away had ever returned, although little did she realize it was more because of where they had guard duty than any specific skill they possessed.

Kryro watched to be sure the man had left the treeline and had vanished around the wall of that old town, then turned to Meren. "Do not do that again. How do you know you can trust him?"

Meren's forehead wrinkled in confusion. Why was her brother chastising her? "Trust who? What did I do?"

Now it was the centaur's turn to express confusion. "There was a human... was there not? We caught... no. We were on border guard, keeping an eye out for orcs." He didn't sound so sure of himself, however.

Meren glared back in the direction of the wood elf camp. "Like always. I really think those are a story made up by my father to keep us occupied."

Kryro looked skeptical, but nodded. "Possibly, but we are still guards. We should go check our traps."

"But we just did." Hadn't they?

"Right. However something tells me we should again."

The elf shrugged her heavily tattooed shoulders. Her partner's attention to detail was rather obsessive at times, but she was used to that.

Still, for some reason before slipping back into the dense forest, she glanced back at the high stone wall in the distance, all that could be seen of the village.



Part 2 can be found here.