A Tale Chapter One written by Joat

A Tale Chapter One

As he felt his power's waning and his life force draining out through the wound in his side, he couldn't help but wonder what had gone wrong. He had done his best, used the strategies that he had been taught, and yet had failed.

He was now helpless as his opponent approached. He looked up through the red fog that hung before his eyes and saw the mocking smile. He saw the laughing eyes which knew of their victory. He felt his soul scream defiance at the loss. He could never lose! He was unbeatable! He would not let the other mage have his lands! Gathering the last reserves of his power, he began to weave his final enchantment. Looking up at the gloating figure above him, he released the spell and fell back exhausted. He slept, and he remembered...

"Wake up you laggard" The plump, rosy cheeked woman said. "You've got to help your father tend the field." "Go jump in the pond" Joat replied. "Pardon me?" his mother, said Joat recognized that tone. That meant he'd better get up before the rolling pin hit him in the back of the head. "I said 'Let me get my pants on." he replied to his mother. "That's what I thought. Now get going."

Sighing wearily, Joat rose from his straw mattress. He quickly put on his shirt, pants, and shoes and scurried out the bedroom door into the kitchen. Grabbing a chunk of bread from the loaf his mother had bought that week, he ran out the door into the sunny day.

Joat always took a moment to look around on days like this. Everything seemed so alive and vibrant. The trees in the wood were greener. The dryads dancing at the other end of the field were livelier and the phoenixes flying overhead were more brightly colored. All in all, life seemed better when the sun was shining on a late summer's day.

Striking out for the fields, Joat felt reasonably good. The mage, who owned these lands, hadn't been attacked for quite sometime and thus things were rather prosperous. Since the mage was a plant specialist, she didn't often have calls for human sacrifices like the death and fire specialists did. Also, since they lived in her realm, they not only gained her protection but also reaped the benefits of spells she maintained, such as weather control. These spells always guaranteed them a good harvest with plenty of food for the family and more than enough left over to give to the mage. "Yes", he thought, "this was indeed a good place to live."

Lost in his thoughts, Joat nearly missed the field that his father was working on today. It was harvest season, so father had said that he was going to go begin collecting the wheat crops so they could be in storage before winter came. Scanning the golden horizon, Joat spotted his father 's horse and began to run towards it.

As he approached he immediately knew something was wrong. The horse, which was normally active to a fault, merely stood still its head lowered nearly to the ground. When Joat finally came within touching distance of the horse, he saw the problem. There on the ground lay his father, impaled on his scythe, apparently dead for at least an hour.

Dropping to his knees, Joat began to cry. He didn't even notice when a dark shadow blotted out the sun, making the day turn to night. Finally after hours of grieving, he prepared himself to return home and break the news to his mother. Grabbing the reins of the horse, he slowly began to walk home.

As Joat walked, the cloud blocking out the sun began to grow larger and more ominous. It swelled to five times its normal size and remained squarely over head apparently unaffected by the gusting wind that now blew through the realm. A drop of rain fell on Joat's shoulder, then another drop struck his hand. However, this rain stung like acid. It burned through his clothing and caused blisters to appear on his skin. Fearful of whatever unnatural enchantment caused this, Joat ran to a nearby tree which had been hollowed out long ago by dryads to make a small home. The tree had been abandoned for decades now, but it still kept the rain out. Of course the horse could never fit inside so Joat had tied it to the tree to keep it from running away.

Joat waited for the storm to abate for over an hour but then became drowsy and began to doze. He was awakened by the sounds of marching. From his hollowed out tree, he could see an army of the undead marching down the road. Liches radiating powerful magical auras led the ranks. The liches were followed by hoards of zombies and skeletons. Then a seemingly empty space followed. Joat felt a momentary chill and immediately identified the invisible menace, wraiths. Finally came a battalion of shadowy vampires flying through the air. Joat finally understood all the strange events of the day. The realm was at war.

As soon as the Acid Rain stopped, Joat leaped out of the tree and grabbed the horse's reins. Yanking on the reins to make the horse follow, Joat was perplexed when it didn't obey. Looking over his shoulder he saw that the horse was dead. Its flesh had been burned by the rain and, in places, bone was exposed. It's skin was blistered and its hair was almost completely burned away. Sorrowful for the poor animal but intent on getting home to warn his family Joat began to run home as fast as he could. He ran through the forests in order to avoid the enemy who would stick to the roads. Suddenly an arrow whizzed by his ear and a voice called out.

"Halt! Unless you want the next one in your back."

Joat immediately stopped as he knew that elvish archers never missed unless they meant to. "I'm just trying to get home to warn my family of the invasion." he stammered "Please let me go."

"Turn around, lad. Let's get a look at you."

Joat slowly turned around to the elvish leader. "Please, I must get home before the army gets there." Another elf, next to the leader, spoke "He certainly doesn't look like one of the enemy sir. He's too well fed." "True enough." replied the leader. "Test him with the holy water. Then we'll know where his loyal ties lie." Joat looked at the elves as one ran off to fetch the water.

The leader was taller than most, five and a half feet at least; he wore a simple gray cloak, which blended well with the forest shadow. However, what distinguished him as the leader was his hat and bow. The hat was rather simple; a basic rain hat with the sides curled up. However, what made it special was the single phoenix feather protruding from it. It obviously had magical properties as any feather removed from a phoenix instantly combusts. Thus a powerful spell was needed to keep it from igniting. The bow, however, was far from ordinary. It was made of a hard, black wood, perhaps ebony, which shined even in the dark forest. Mystic runes of true sight, accuracy, and guidance almost glowed with power, and the top and bottom of the bow were capped with carvings of two dancing nymphs. This elf was certainly favored by the mage of this realm.

Finally the elf that had gone to fetch the water returned. Approaching Joat carefully lest he be a disguised beast, the elf splashed a bit of the water on Joat. All the elves seemed a bit surprised when he didn't fly into a burning rage, screaming and flailing about.

"Well then," the leader said a bit disgruntled "I suppose he was telling the truth. Nuil, come here and see the boy home."

"Yes sir." said a small elf that approached from the back of the group. "What shall I do after I get him there?" "Just stay with him and don't get in the way of any fighting." replied the leader. "Now then, if you'll excuse us. We have more important things to do at the moment than talk to boys in the middle of the woods." So saying, the leader turned to his troops and motioned for them to go. They all turned and walked into the surrounding foliage and simply disappeared.

"Well boy, let's get going." said the small elf named Nuil. "I haven't got all day."

Considering how he had let the elf leader bully him around a second ago, Joat wasn't going to take it from any half pint elf who obviously wasn't even wanted by his own kind. "Well," he replied "if it wasn't bad enough that I had to wait for your stupid leader to figure out that I was no threat. Now he sticks me with a half pint elf whom it seems isn't even liked by his own kind."

Amused the elf looked up at Joat. "Well put human, but do you want to verbally spar all day or should we get you home?"

"Of course, let's go" Joat replied embarrassed.

The elf took off at a mean clip so that Joat had to jog to keep up. Joat couldn't keep the pace for long but, as he was close to his home anyway, he knew he wouldn't have to. After ten minutes of a fast paced jog, Joat arrived breathless at the field next to his home. The elf, on the other hand, was more amused than breathless.

"You know, you'd think that with those long legs of yours, that you'd be able to keep up with a 'half pint elf.'"

"Yeah (gasp) but can (gasp) you reach the (gasp) top (gasp) shelf?" Joat replied.

Written by Joat

A Tale Chapter Two A Tale Chapter Three

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