Tarun stood with crossed arms next to the wagon at the edge of the clearing, trying to keep his temper under control as the rest of Aluanna’s group gradually made their way in to the campsite. When the sorceress and her three satyrs had introduced themselves, Tarun had thought that just the four of them had driven off the attack of the phantoms. He soon realized though that they were just the first of a much larger band that followed soon behind.

The fire in the middle of the campsite was now well-fed and burning noisily, but despite the bright flames Tarun had a hard time counting exactly how many individuals made up the gathering in front of him. He estimated that there was a little more than twenty members of the group, but so many of them were either dancing, playing musical instruments, or otherwise actively moving about, that he couldn’t quite keep them all straight. Part of Tarun was glad to see the cheerful transformation that had come over the clearing in such a short amount of time. Another part of him was indignant that anyone could try to celebrate so jovially when something so foul was still lurking somewhere in the dark.

Tarun’s arm stung and his head pounded as he thought about the grinning face of Laronius. The pale villain had said he was a servant of Vdekshi, and that his master had invited Tarun and Shon to his stronghold because he was “very interested in meeting the former companions of Krall.” At the mention of Krall’s name, Laronius’ grin had widened menacingly, and a suppressed rage had exploded in Tarun’s chest. Tarun had tried to attack Laronius, but the effort proved to be as futile for Tarun as it was entertaining for Laronius.

Over and over, Tarun’s mind replayed the look on Laronius’ face when he said Krall’s name, and the memory made bile rise in his throat. How dare he even think to use Krall’s name! Tarun considered that Laronius must be as unlike Krall as any being could be. While the orc’s skin had been rough with scars and calluses, Laronius was pale and unblemished. Krall’s voice had been deep and gravely, but his words were direct, instructive, and encouraging. Laronius had a voice that was smooth and polished, but with a tone of mockery and words that contradicted his expression. Perhaps most importantly, Krall had hated serving a master like Vdekshi, while Laronius seemed to revel in it.

Lost in his thoughts of rage and disgust, Tarun was somewhat taken aback when the satyr with brown hair walked up to him, lightly strumming some stringed instrument. “Why the sour expression?” Toj asked in a voice loud enough that the whole gathering heard him. “You survived an encounter with Laronius and a whole swarm of phantoms tonight. You have every reason to celebrate with us. Isn’t that right?” A cheer went up from the band as Toj strummed loudly on his instrument.

“I’ll feel much more like celebrating once Laronius is dead,” said Tarun, and the gathering became much quieter.

“Well then you’re in luck, my dark-skinned friend,” replied Toj, still strumming away. “Because that pale devil was dead before you even met him tonight!” There was a burst of laughter, making Tarun feel somewhat self-conscious.

“Already dead?” asked Shon, as he made his way through the crowd to stand next to Tarun. “Are you saying that Laronius is some kind of zombie or something? Because he was pretty eloquent for a reanimated corpse.”

“Oh he’s no corpse,” said Roj, taking a break from playing his flute, “but he’s certainly not alive. That necromancer drained all the life out of him and replaced it with dark magic. He’s a vampire.”

Shon shivered. “My old teacher used to tell us stories from her people’s folklore about vampires who once roamed the tundra near her village,” said Shon. “She would tell us all the horrible powers that the vampires had, but she would always end the stories by telling us that it was just something that grandmothers in her country would tell children to scare them when they were naughty. But she forgot that I could hear her thoughts when she was telling the stories, and I knew she was actually scared.”

“Well I don’t know anything about the vampires where you teacher comes from,” said Toj, “but if they’re anything like Laronius, then she was right to be scared.”

“You seem to know a lot about him,” said Tarun.

“Yeah well let’s just say we’ve had more close calls with Laronius than we’d like,” replied Roj with a snort. “That’s what happens when you patrol the forest every night like we do.”

“Wait, you mean you people party like this every night?” Shon asked. “I thought we had just gotten lucky that you all just happened to be celebrating something when we got attacked tonight.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it, wizard,” said a melodic voice. Everyone quieted down as Aluanna moved from the center of the revelries to join the conversation. “This is my father’s forest and it is under my protection.”

“Your father’s forest?” Tarun replied. “Is he some kind of landlord or regional noble?”

“Nothing so mundane,” Aluanna responded. “My father is Lord of the Wood, Master of the Wild, and King of the Forest.”

“I don’t understand,” said Tarun. “I thought there were no more kings in this land. How can there be a king of the forest?”

“Then sit down, traveler,” Aluanna commanded. “Uncross your arms and open your ears, and I will share with you my story.”

As if on cue, all the members of Aluanna’s band sat on the ground, directing their full attention to the sorceress. Tarun and Shon also sat down, and as he sat, Tarun caught a glimpse of Seth for the first time since he had finally woken up. Seth’s eyes were wide and seem to be transfixed on Aluanna. One of the members of the band handed the sorceress a violin and bow.

“Aren’t you going to accompany her?” Shon whispered to Toj, Roj, and Soj, who were all seated nearby.

“Most of the time, yes,” Toj whispered back. “But the Song of Aluanna is best performed as a solo. I think you’ll see why.”

Aluanna brought the bow to the strings of her violin and the instrument let forth a long, clear note. She pulled the bow back and forth across the strings, creating a melody that everyone in attendance seemed to hold their breath to hear. As her bow danced across the instrument, her body began to sway with the rhythm, and it appeared that the whole forest was swaying with her.

Tarun looked around and noticed that the flames of the campfire seemed to be waving in place as if made of brightly colored ribbons. The stars appeared larger than usual and spiraled gracefully overhead. Everything in the clearing appeared soft and slightly out of focus, with the exception of Aluanna who appeared before them all in crystal clarity and brilliance. Tarun was vaguely aware that she was weaving some spell or enchantment on them, but he sensed no danger.

After finishing her prelude and setting the desired atmosphere, she opened her mouth, and began to sing.

Once an elf lord went a wand’ring

To and fro among his realm

Searching for some secret solace

‘Mong the birch and yew and elm

In his grief, his senses faltered

And his eyes saw things unseen

What a tragic lonely figure

Was a king without his queen

As the elf lord wandered hither

Through his forest kingdom wide

A young wood nymph saw his weeping

And with tenderness, she spied

She knew not from whence his grief came

But she promised to herself

She’d forsake all other ventures

And tend to the broken elf

Sev’ral years the nymph did follow

Out of sight and out of mind

Never fully comprehending

What the elf lord sought to find

Then one night came forth the answer

Crying out while he yet slept

For the wife who he’d seen perish

Bitterly the elf lord wept

Then the magic in the wood nymph

Glowing like a sunshine gleam

Sent her instantly inside him

And she entered in his dream

For her shape was ever changing

As do all wood nymphs in life

And the magic then transformed her

To the image of his wife

When the elvish lord awoken

He beheld with tear-soaked eyes

That his dear wife stood before him

As the wood nymph in disguise

He cared not how it could happen

For his grief had turned to joy

And within a year the couple

Had conceived a baby boy

This was all the king had wanted

With his queen and now a son

The boy’s eyes were green like clover

And he loved to dance and run

But the elvish prince was wild

Not befitting elvish lords

For just like his lovely mother

The young prince possessed no words

As the elf lord tried to tame him

The boy chose instead to flee

And once out of doors discovered

A new home of fern and tree

He was never truly elvish

Neither truly nymph indeed

But from each he gained some magic

That grew in him like a seed

Through the years that seed of magic

Grew inside him rich and strong

And he blazed his own fate forward

Deep in verdant nature’s song

Though his mother came from seedling

He was still the elf lord’s child

So proclaimed himself a new king

And the master of the wild

At the conclusion of the verse, there was a shift in the melody, and the melancholy undertones were replaced with a brighter tone and slightly quicker tempo. Aluanna smiled and inhaled deeply, then continued.

Oh the years moved ever onward

And he grew from boy to man

Yet he still was ruled by instinct

Without guile or thought to plan

And he gave no mind to courtship

That is ’til one fateful day

When a most peculiar maiden

Came dancing on her way

The Lord of the Wood did marvel

At the maid with deep red hair

For she ventured to his forest

Without trembling dread or care

While most mortals learned to fear him

And they made no forest path

For offending the great wood lord

Would most surely earn his wrath

And yet carefree was the maiden

As she danced throughout the glade

And the wood lord’s ire for trespass

Straightaway began to fade

She came not to plunder timber

Nor to kill for sport or food

She came only to make merry

And improve the forest’s mood

Then the wood lord did approach her

Knowing not how she’d respond

But the moment she saw his eyes

There was instantly a bond

For she’d fled her cruel village

Who had thought her mind was weak

For just like the mighty wood lord

She possessed no power to speak

Now in love the maid and wood lord

Danced together through his realm

And they made their home together

‘Mong the birch and yew and elm

And they married under starlight

Sharing vows most silently

The wood lord himself performed it

With his own authority

One year hence the maid and wood lord

Had conceived a daughter fair

With her father’s seed of magic

And her mother’s deep red hair

But the child surprised her mother

And her father the wood king

As she grew into a lady

That young woman loved to sing

She sang for the wild forest

Ever changing without end

And she found her songs had power

Full of magic to defend

So she left her loving parents

Though she’d always be their child

She knew she must go find others

Who’d help her protect the wild

And so now you know my story

From the tale that I have spun

As defender of the woodland

And the voice for those with none

My companions I have gathered

We traverse my father’s realm

Wand’ring as did once my elf sire

‘Mong the birch and yew and elm

When Aluanna finished her song, she stood straight and tall in front of her audience, panting and holding her violin and bow while the world around them retuned to normal. Some in the party looked forlorn or thoughtful, while others looked excited and were nodding to each other enthusiastically. Tarun looked over and noticed tears streaming down Seth’s face.

“My brothers and I have been traveling with Lady Aluanna longer than anybody,” said Toj, “and I still never get used to hearing that.”

“Is all of that true?” Shon quietly asked the satyr. “Even if nymphs were still around, I didn’t think it was possible for them to mate with elves or other mortal races.”

“Wizard, I will tell you this only once,” declared Aluanna. “My tale is true and I sing no lies. If you do not wish to believe it, then we have no business with one another.”

“It was beautiful,” said Seth with wide eyes as he walked over to them, holding his walking stick. “Absolutely amazing.”

“And what about you, my dark brooding warrior?” said Aluanna, turning to Tarun. “Are you so longing for battle that you were unmoved by my song?”

“Forgive me lady,” Tarun said as he stood up and crossed his arms again, “the strength of your magic is unquestionable, but there is one thing I still don’t understand. If this is your father’s realm, then why don’t you get rid of the foul creatures like Laronius and those phantoms once and for all? Why allow them to continue existing in this forest?”

Aluanna’s eyebrows furrowed as she regarded Tarun. “If only it were so simple,” she said. “But they are servants of Vdekshi, and his power is as inexplicable as it is unnatural.”

“Why?” demanded Tarun. “You and Shon use magic. Shon’s parents and uncle all possessed magical abilities as well. Why is Vdekshi so different?”

“The magic my father passed on to me is powerful,” said Aluanna, “but the power and potency of Vdekshi’s magic is uncanny. It belongs to another age of the world.”

“Or perhaps the magic comes from someone that belongs to another age of the world,” said Seth, excitement growing on his face.

“What are you talking about?” asked Aluanna, addressing Seth for the first time.

“Uh, well,” Seth stammered, a slight tremble creeping into his voice “what I mean is, you and Shon both channel magical energies yourselves, right? But as mortals, even amazing mortals, you have limits. But what if Vdekshi isn’t channeling that magic himself, he’s just… directing the magic of some more powerful being?”

“I think those phantoms scrambled you more than we thought,” said Roj, hitting Seth with his flute. “Because you’re talking nonsense.” The other satyrs laughed.

“I happen to have some experience in the matter,” grumbled Seth, looking embarrassed.

“You mean like that light from you lantern that struck Laronius in the face?” Tarun asked, ignoring the satyrs’ continued snickering. “Or that word you said that drove back the phantoms at first? What was that word again? Sharoo?”

“Shurrah,” replied Seth. As he said the word, a tingle went up Tarun’s back.

Aluanna held up a hand to silence the satyrs, and looked directly at Seth. “Say that word again,” she commanded.

“Shurrah,” said Seth, the tremble in his voice now gone.

Aluanna turned back to the satyrs. “Roj, play me the horizon right after the sun sets.” Straightaway, the stocky, black-haired satyr began to play a slow and lingering tune from his flute. “Soj, give me a lightly falling rain.” The tall, white-haired satyr began tapping with his drumsticks to make a faint and slightly irregular rhythm. The sorceress held her hand in the air for a moment as if trying to catch an idea from the wind. “And Toj, I need the frog pond at the end of summer.” The brown-haired satyr responded with a low set of repeating chords that seemed to tie the flute and percussion together at once.

Aluanna closed her eyes and swayed to the rhythm while Toj repeated his set of chords a couple of times, and then began to sing a slow, haunting melody.

When the misty night wind starts to howl

Shurrah, shurrah, shurrah

Faces in the darkness sniff and growl

Shurrah, shurrah, shurrah

Call back to the evil and the foul

Shurrah, shurrah, shurrah, my child

Shurrah, shurrah, shurrah

Aluanna held up a hand and the satyrs abruptly stopped their playing. “That’s a good start,” said the sorceress. “We’ll have to finish that up another time.” She then turned to face Seth again. “That’s quite the potent word of power,” she said. “What does it mean? How did you learn it?”

“As you probably already guessed,” replied Seth, “it translates roughly to ‘be gone’ or ‘depart’ as a means to ward off creatures of darkness.” Seth then looked down and gripped the handle of his walking stick with both hands. “As for how I leaned it,” he stammered, “I doubt you would believe me if I told you.”

“And do you always give in so easily to your doubts?” asked Aluanna sharply. “There are many who do not believe my story, yet I shared it with you and your companions tonight. It is your turn to do the same.”

“You’re right,” Seth said, lifting his head and planting his walking stick firmly on the ground. “It’s time I told all of you what I’m really doing here.”

Tarun
Arty By Ryan Salway