Chapter 3: The Path of Destiny (pt. 2)

When we last left him, Bertronius had just stepped bravely into the Erkenheld. He knows that all that stands between him and becoming a spy passing the test laid down by Clemhand: go into the forest, find the Rebels, and bring back an artifact to prove it. Jarthen, meanwhile, has taken a nap or fallen into a ditch an will not be appearing in this post. He sends his apologies.
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Bertronius walked on through the forest, leaving the relative safety of the outside world behind him. He noticed that the traces of forest light seemed to filter through a strange blue haze. This was like nothing he had ever seen: it was certainly not smoke, as it had no odor, and yet did not seem like fog or mist either.

Bertronius found the entire place very queer indeed, and his natural curiosity was beginning to get the better of his fears when he felt a strong gust of wind come out of nowhere. The gust almost knocked him off his feet, leaving him momentarily disoriented. It whistled through the dense trees, causing what seemed like a great commotion relative to the eerie silence of the forest when it was still.

the eerie blue mists of the the Erkenheld

Then the lad saw something strange. When the wind blew, it appeared that not all of the trees and other vegetation moved in a natural manner! To be sure, the vast majority of the forest moved as expected, but other parts remained still, seemingly unaffected by the wind.

Struck by this curious phenomenon, Bertronius made his way over to a stand of smaller, densely interwoven trees that had not moved during the latest gusts. Aside from their stillness in the face of a stiff wind, the trees seemed entirely unremarkable: they had bark, branches and leaves just like the multitude of other trees that surrounded them. Bertronius couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he suspected that this clump of trees wasn’t all it appeared to be. On the basis of this hunch, Bertronius decided to push his way through the thick interwoven branches in the hopes that the interior of this group of trees would provide some insight into their strange steadfastness. He leaned forward, preparing to put all of his weight against the wall of foliage…but found that there was no wall at all! Instead of being met with the strong resistance of living wood, however, he found himself tumbling to the ground.

Stunned by this peculiar turn of events, he lifted himself into a sitting position and made sure that all of his extremities were in working order. When he had ascertained that he was not seriously hurt, he looked around and saw that he was no longer on the small, overgrown animal trail, but was instead seated on a well-maintained flagstone path. It was surrounded on all sides by thick, hedge-like trees that grew together to make the seemingly impenetrable wall of branches.

“Well,” he said to himself, “this is strange, indeed.” Bertonius thought for a moment about how he should proceed. Should he go back to the smaller path, from which he would be able to find his way back to the army camp? Or should he take this new path, one that was most likely used by the strange inhabitants of the forest, or perhaps even lead to the rebels? On consideration, Bertronius found the possibility of gaining entry into the spy corps quite convincing. As he pulled himself off and brushed himself off, he thought, “I must be careful, though, for who knows what strange beasts might patrol this curious thoroughfare.”

Though he walked ever further into the forest, the path remained just as neatly groomed as it had been when he first found it: the flagstones were intricately fitted together, making a firm, even surface that was delightful to tread upon. The walls of trees on either side, which Bertronius knew now to be no more than illusions, obscured the forest outside, but Bertronius periodically stuck his head through them to see if anything had changed in the surrounding forest.

Occasionally, the path intersected with other paths or would offer forks in other directions. Each time, Bertronius decided to remain on the same path. He feared that if he were to turn off onto one of the other paths, he would never be able to find his way back to the Imperial Army’s camp.

He had been walking along at a steady clip for about two hours and night was starting to fall, just as the spy recruiter said it would. Bertronius had become accustomed to the forest’s silence when he heard an extraordinary sound. Bertronius stopped immediately and crouched down against the side of the path and listened to the odd noise. It was soft, but constant, and it sounded like a cross between someone sawing wood and a pig enjoying a fresh trough of slop.

As slowly and quietly as he could, he pressed his face against the path’s magical barrier until he could see out into the forest around him. Though he could not see the source of the noise, it looked as if the trees were beginning to thin out up ahead of him. He advanced on the path at a crawl, checking periodically on both sides of the forest as he moved towards the sound.

Bertronius could tell that he was almost upon whatever was making the sound when he reached a bend in the path that he could not see around. He continued to move cautiously until he was just able to see the source of the cacophonous commotion: it was a tiny man, fast asleep and snoring quite loudly on the path. The man, who could not have been more than four feet tall, wore a very odd hat that was topped with deer’s antlers, and he did not seem to have footwear of any kind. At his side lay a sword and an empty stein. Even from his removed vantage point, Bertronius detected the unmistakable aroma of stale beer.

Again, Bertronius peered from his path into the surrounding forest, and this time he could see that the forest was not just thinning; ahead of him lay a vast meadow, full of a wide variety of tents and other dwellings. He could also make out the shape of a great number of strange creatures. With a gasp, Bertronius realized that he had found it: the rebel camp! Naturally, the shock of seeing the enemy in all of its strength was quite overwhelming for the young lad. Bertronius, however, was equal to the task and quickly mastered his fears, knowing that he’s need proof of his discovery to give to the spy if he made it back through the forest.

His decision made, Bertronius again peered into the surrounding forest. Except for the rebel’s camp, which remained at least several dozen paces away, there were no other creatures near the hidden path. He carefully exited through the magical hedge, and slowly made his way along its edge, pausing to determine with stealthy glances how far he was from the napping gnome. When Bertronius was directly upon the little being, he quietly reached his face and hand through the wall of trees. Not daring to breathe or take his eyes off of the still snoring gnome, he extended his hand until he was just able to grasp the hilt of the nearby sword, which bore the insignia of the rebel army on its hilt. He lifted it as silently as he could, waiting to see if the enemy stirred at all, but the effects of the abandoned mug’s contents apparently still held sway over the gnome, who continued to snore violently.

Once Bertronius had gotten the sword safely outside of the path, he snuck slowly and silently away until he had reached what seemed like a safe place to reenter the path. He felt his spirits lift as he reentered the path and began to move at a swift and jaunty pace, and let out a cry of victory. He had done it! He would be a spy!

Though his spirits were greatly lifted by the accomplishment of his mission, Bertronius couldn’t shake a strange feeling that he was being watched. He was sure that no one had seen him pinch the sword, but he found himself continually looking over his shoulder and feeling as if something was moving just outside his view. Perhaps he should have thought twice before celebrating so vocally.

tricky sprites a-watching Bertronius through the undergrowth

Suddenly, he felt the sharp blow of a stone strike the back of his head. He ducked, but there was no way for him to defend himself as a barrage of small rocks hit him repeatedly. Dazed and disoriented, he looked up in the hopes of fighting back and saw that his assailants were a pair of small, furry creatures with great staring yellow eyes. They moved with astonishing rapidity and dexterity, and, try as he might, he simply could not effectively defend himself as they charged him and wrenched the gnomish sword from his grasp. They were no bigger than house cats, but they beat him just the same.

Their prize in hand, the little creatures gave their own triumphant cry and dashed off along on the path. Bertronius, not willing to give up the sword so easily, and he sprinted after them in pursuit. They were nimble, to be sure, but Bertronius had always been a quick runner, and he was able to maintain a sufficiently quick pace as to allow him to keep them in sight..

The chase continued for long enough that Bertronius was struggling to keep his breath when the forest path opened into a strange clearing. It was a very queer place indeed, bathed in the same eerie blue light that pervaded the entirety of the forest and in the midst of which lay what appeared to be an ancient shrine or temple of some kind. It looked as if the forest had sought to reclaim the aged building, as it was covered in vines and ivy of every variety.

Bert discovers the mysterious forest shrine

For the moment, Bertronius forgot about his pursuit of the two thieves and simply marveled at the place. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the otherworldly voice of a woman spoke to him in a tone of mild surprise and curiosity.

“And who might you be?” asked the voice. Bertronius whirled around and found himself face to face with the oddest-looking woman he had ever seen. She was at least three feet taller than him, deathly pale, with a long, eerily beautiful face, the ears of a deer and, strangest of all, hair seemingly composed of a curious hybrid of vegetable and animal matter.

“Perhaps you are one of those that cannot speak” she mused, regarding him with a look of curiosity, after he had failed to respond to her first query.

“N-n-no…I can speak,” he stammered in response.

“Well, good. I do like it better when things can speak, makes communication easier, you know. Then what is your name, you who can speak?”

“My name is Bertronius…what…who are you?” Bertronius responded, hoping he didn’t seem rude to the eerie figure.

“Oh, I have many names, Bertronius Who Can Speak. Call me what you like. What brings you to my part of the forest?”

“Something was stolen from me…a sword. It’s small and has a golden tree set against a green background on the hilt. I followed the, uh, things that stole it from me, but I lost track of them when I got here.”

"These 'things' that took it from you, were they about the size of cats and chattered in a most irritating way?" asked the woman. Bertronius nodded, and after a brief pause she responded in a slightly exasperated tone, “Well, that would be the sprites. They’re always taking things that don’t belong to them and bringing them here to me. It’s very cute and all, I suppose, but it can be quite tiresome having to deal with all the clutter,” she made a sweeping gesture to the numerous random trinkets littering the shrine and clearing.

Bertronius had become strangely at ease with the tall, deer-eared woman, and forgetting he should still be wary, asked “Why would they bring you all of this stuff? Are you a sprite too?”

“Me? A sprite? Oh no, not at all!” the lady looked amused and surprised, but not angry. “I believe they think that they are giving me tribute. You see, for reasons that remain unclear to me, the sprites have chosen me as their queen. This is quite sweet, to be sure, and I have become quite attached to them in my own way, but I most certainly do have more important things to do than serve as the monarch to a bevy of mischievous wood sprites. Don’t worry, I’ll make them return your sword. It’s only fair.”

The queen of the sprites then made a chattering sound very similar to the noise that the sprites who had stolen the lad’s sword made, except considerably louder. In a matter of seconds, numerous creatures ranging in size from almost two feet tall down to a mere six inches appeared from every corner of the clearing. They seemed to have little in common with each other: some were completely covered in hair with tails, while others looked like tiny people with long ears and pinched faces, and still others flew with gossamer wings. Most of them had clothes of some sort, though the majority of their costumes appeared to be ragged, discarded garments originally meant for some other being. The one thing they all seemed to share was the odd chattering language, which they spoke in rapidly and voluminously in unison. The noise was almost deafening.

“All right, all right, quiet down now,” the sprite queen spoke calmly. When this failed to silence the sprites’ chattering, she sighed quietly and boomed something in their language in an unnaturally loud voice, which achieved her goal immediately. She then gibbered on more calmly, apparently asking which of the sprites had stolen Bertronius’s sword. When none of them replied, she gave the wee creatures a stern, withering look and spoke more insistently. After a minute or two, the guilty parties were bodily pushed out of the throngs of sprites by their fellows. The pair of fuzzy, yellow-eyed sprites who'd stolen the sword Bertronius had stolen from the unconscious gnome stared sheepishly at the ground.

“Again, I must apologize for their actions. They mean well, but they simply don’t understand convention. Mostly, they're just curious. They’re gifts, really, my sprites,” she said to Bertronius. She then chattered an order to the two thieves that sent them galloping off to find the purloined sword, and dismissed the other sprites off to continue in their spritely exploits.

While they waited for the chastened sprites to return, Bertronius’s intellectual curiosity got the better of him and he found himself compelled to engage this unearthly woman in conversation, who was humming absentmindedly to herself.

“So…I hate to ask you this, and it is a terribly rude way to phrase this, but what are you?” he asked, “I mean, you’re not a human-woman, are you?”

“No, not in the least,” she replied unperturbed, “I belong to no race. I suppose you would call me a deity¹—I am the eternal spirit of all living creatures in the Erkenheld Forest. When life’s spark first appeared in this magical place, I was born, fully formed with the mission of protecting and nurturing it through the ages.”

Although the very notion was far outside the realm of his personal experience, Bertronius found that he believed the curious woman. There was undoubtedly something timeless about her air and demeanor.

“Wow,” he replied astonished. Bertronius, who’d always been inquisitive, could not stop himself from asking more questions. “What…what do you actually do?”

“Well, obviously you’ve found the paths: I created them so that creatures that belong in the forest can navigate through our realm more easily, and I hid them so that outsiders would not be encouraged to stay here. This is for our protection and theirs. I’m not entirely sure how you found the paths, as humans are outsiders, but since you did, I can only conclude that you belong here, in some way. Welcome home, then.” At that, the lady smiled warmly at Bertronius, who felt at once comforted and made vulnerable by her piercing stare.

Bertronius realized that the light in the forest had faded, and it was late into the night. The strange woman and the shrine ahead of him gave off more of the blue glow he’d noticed when he first entered the forest, and Bertronius thought it must have kept him from noticing the passage of time. “I really have to return to my camp: I’m expected back there before nightfall.”

“Where is your camp?” She asked, blinking her large, black eyes slowly.

“It’s just outside the Erkenheld, but I don’t have any idea how to get back there…and I don’t even know how I’d get back even if I knew, now that it’s so dark,” he said looking around in a confused manner.

“I’ll have one of the sprites lead you out. I understand that they can be quite troublesome, but I can assure you that if I tell them to do something they usually try their best to accomplish it. I am their queen, after all.”

Though he was reluctant to put his fate in the hands of the mischievous sprites, he realized that he had little choice in the matters. “Thank you,” he replied graciously, “I would greatly appreciate that.”

The Sprite Queen

Just then, the two sprites returned with Bertronius’s sword. After casting a baleful glance towards the boy, they reluctantly handed the sword over to him, chattering what was likely an apology in a dejected tone. The queen then chattered an ordered to the sprites, who responded grudgingly in apparent assent to her request. She then snapped her long, slender fingers, causing two large balls of blue light to appear in the palm of her hand. She handed each of the sprites one glowing orb, which gave off a surprising amount of light, illuminating a 6 foot radius around it.

“Excellent,” the strange woman said, now speaking to Bertronius. “These two will lead you back to the boundary of the forest. I must bid you farewell now, but I will say that I greatly enjoyed conversing with you. If you’re ever in my neighborhood again, do feel free to stop by again. Remember, if the paths let you in, you’re always welcome in the Erkenheld.”

Bertronius thanked the Sprite Queen for her assistance, and took his leave. The sprites grumpily led the young lad back to the paths but seemed insistent on maintaining a certain amount of distance between themselves and Bertronius. They moved along at a reasonable pace, pausing only to cast angry looks back at their charge.

The sun was slowly beginning to peak over the horizon when the odd party reached the forest’s edge: the entrance to the path was protected by an illusory stand of bushes, through which the sprites would not pass. When they reached the barrier, the two creatures chattered angrily at Bertronius and pointed at the Imperial Army’s camp, which lay a few hundred yards away, and then darted off along the path again.

Bertronius felt a sense of immense triumph as he made his way back to the army camp: he had done it! He was certain that Clemhand and the other spies would be stunned by his accomplishment. Not only had he seen the rebel’s camp and lived to tell about it, but he had also discovered a secret about the Erkenheld that would doubtless be of immense use to the army. If only Jarthen could see him now…
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¹ The term 'deity' as used in the Elothinian world has a slightly different connotation than it does in ours, and the Author believes his dear readers should be aware of this. Deities are generally not religious figures, and often even lack creationist powers, and are instead believed to be creatures of pure magick.