Advent Of Darkness. Gary Caplan
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his sleep.
"I heard a noise," replied the wizard in a hushed tone, his knuckles white upon the sword hilt.
There, sitting by a gnarled old tree near the road was a chestnut-skinned young girl, her head buried in her hands, weeping. She looked up as the travelers approached and swiftly rose to meet them.
As they drew nearer, Gideon could see the tears flowing slowly down her auburn cheeks as they glistened in the pale moonlight. She appeared to be partially naked the rest of her clothed in leaves. Her hair flowed straight down to the small of her back, but what made Gideon do a double take was that her hair was a verdant shade of green.
Ragan slowed the two elaxes and stopped beside the mournful maiden.
"What's happening?" asked Gideon. "Who is she?"
"She is a dryad, a wood nymph," replied the wizard. "They are wise in matters concerning their forest lands, especially in the region of their life tree." Ragan paused to concentrate for a moment and then said a word and gestured at Gideon. He felt a strange but not unpleasant sensation. "Hail and well met, Daughter of the Trees. Why do you weep?"
The dryad wrung her hands and said, her voice filled with great loss and sorrow, "I am called Loral"—she sniffed—"a daughter of the Tree Mother, and I weep for the fallen ones."
"Explain," said Ragan with conviction. "Who has done this?"
Loral shuddered as she said, "The evil ones did this. The evil ones have come to my wood, Ragan Tree-friend. Many of my little friends warned me of this before they fell silent. The evil ones just burned them for no other reason than spite. Men do this on occasion, but this attack was not by men. It was by someone terrible. So terrible was the presence that as I felt it, I ran. I ran into my tree and prayed to the Great Tree Mother for protection. Now, they are gone, and so are my friends." With that, the dryad burst into tears again.
"Can you describe this evil person?" pressed Ragan.
Loral thought hard for a moment, trying to remember the nightmarish events.
"Black!" she cried. "It was an elf-daughter, but black as the night. She was like…a burnt…tree!" Again, she wailed.
"Was this elf-daughter alone?" pursued the wizard.
Loral shook her head violently.
"No. There were others with her. Her servants, I think. Oh, please, Ragan Tree-friend, help me! I am so frightened. If she knew I was here, I fear she would destroy my tree and…kill me!" Gideon got off his elax and walked toward her, watching her cry more tears. Ragan could see he felt sorry for her.
Gideon said, "Don't worry, Loral. We'll help protect you."
The dryad smiled appreciatively. Ragan looked around letting the Dryad finish her immediate tears, and then continued his questioning with a renewed passion. "Is she still nearby?"
"Yes," replied Loral in a frightened whisper.
Ragan clenched his teeth into a grim smile at the answer, for it struck him like a blow.
"Fear not, Loral Tree-Daughter, for I will avenge this attack. Now, return to your tree and be at peace, for Ragan Tree-Friend and kindred to the Great Tree Mother has arrived."
With that, the dryad bowed her head and walked to her tree.
Then she turned and said, "Avenge my friends, the trees, for these ones cannot avenge themselves. Farewell." With that, she merged into the tree and was gone.
"Ragan, what—" said Gideon shakily, amazed.
"Shh! be silent," whispered the wizard harshly, waving his hand to emphasize the statement. Then he perked his head up like a deer and listened to the woods.
Only the sound of crickets was heard.
"Nothing!" Ragan said finally. "They've masked their presence completely. We must wait until they make their move. I don't want to give away my presence with an active spellcasting."
"Well?" asked Gideon as he got back onto his elax. "What do we do now?"
"We go on," replied Ragan. "We cannot allow this issue to stall our journey to Tetherin."
"But what about—"started Gideon.
"The evil?" finished Ragan. "There is nothing I can do until it appears, as I said. But do not fear. I am far from defenseless." With that, the wizard prodded his elax on down the road while Gideon followed cautiously.
About a mile along, Gideon thought of some more questions to pass the time and ease the tension that was gradually increasing.
"Was that a real wood nymph?" asked Gideon still in amazement. "I've never seen one before. I mean, are they human or what?"
"No, of course they're not human!" replied Ragan with a glint of anger. "Why do humans seem to judge everything according to their kind?"
"Huh?" asked Gideon, taken aback by the words.
"Constantly comparing other creatures to oneself is really pompous and unworthy."
"Unworthy?" proclaimed Gideon in a sputter of sheer astonishment and sudden anger.
He could hardly believe this was Ragan speaking. "But you are human. How can you talk like that about your own race?"
"I am not human. I choose to look this way," countered Ragan. "I am an Eternal and member of the Order of the Taurihiri. I am more than human, more than I appear. If I were to compare myself to any race, it would most assuredly be the Alor or, as you might call them, the elves. For they know their world and their place in it. They are proud, but not vain. They know that they are helpers of the Lords of Errada. Many humans, on the other hand, think that they were put here to bend the land to their will." Ragan laughed in a biting bark of noise. "Bah, how can any race think of themselves as masters when they can't even master themselves?"
Gideon lowered his eyes in shame. This was the human race his new friend was berating, and when he thought about it, he could offer no defense. He was seeing his race as no one from Earth had ever seen it before. He was seeing it through the eyes of a nonhuman.
"Don't misunderstand me, Gideon. I do not dislike the human race. My judgment of them is that they are sometimes like arrogant, selfish, and pompous children. There will be trials, no doubt, but if humans humble themselves just a bit, I think they might have a good chance. There is more to creation than they; that is something they must learn. When they do, ahh…well, I want to be there and see it."
Ragan smiled as if to show Gideon that his words were sincere, and then he continued, "Now, as for your question about the dryad, the dryads and their sisters are incarnates of nature and powerful in their realm of influence. They work with the elves in preserving the forests and all woodland regions. I helped her because it is the way of my order to teach as well as care for others."
"I see," said Gideon. And they rode on, their eyes watching the wood line for any sign of danger.
Another fifteen minutes had passed, and they had covered about half a mile. Ragan had been mumbling incoherently to himself ever since they left the dryad's tree.
Every once in a while, the wizard would appear to hum a melody or make gestures or signs in the air with his fingers. He would then reach into a small pouch hidden on his belt and remove something from it. Gideon was beginning to think the man was crazier than he was when he remembered the dryad's words about danger nearby. Was Ragan preparing himself using some kind of sorcery for protection? He could only guess.
"Ragan?" asked Gideon finally. "What's wrong?"
"There is danger here. I can sense it," said the wizard in a whisper.
"What of the danger? Can you handle it?" asked Gideon, his heart beating loudly in his chest.
"I have been using simple spellweaves so as not to call attention to myself," stated Ragan, drawing his sword from its sheath. He handed it to Gideon.
"Here, take this. It is enchanted with certain spells that will both defend and