Vaclyner’s Rite: A Novel

By Alan Thomas

Everyone dreams of being a hero. Vaclyner is no different. Left orphaned when his father disappeared and his mother died a few years later, he longs to distinguish himself, even to the point of making up stories about foes he has vanquished while hunting in the woods. His guardian, Fragiir, warns him that the world is full of creatures and people with magical powers that might actually threaten their village.

When Vaclyner meets a mysterious old man in the forest around his home, he accepts a quest that he believes will lead to the fulfillment of his dearest wish. But when he reaches his goal, he finds he’s been betrayed—in a way that will lead to the enslavement of everyone he’s ever loved, with him as the agent of their destruction. Now he must sacrifice everything he’s ever wanted in order to save his home from a terrifying fate.

In this fantasy novel, a young man embarks on a journey in search of his destiny—only to discover that he has endangered his home and loved ones.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Nov 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483459790

Book preview

NOVEL

VACLYNER’S RITE

ALAN THOMAS

Copyright © 2016 Alan Thomas.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-5980-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-5978-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-5979-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016916721

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 11/7/2016

CONTENTS

1 The Proud Liar

2 The Lady’s Messenger

3 The Tallest Tree

4 The Bandits of Misston

5 The Hunted Hunter

6 Dragon Master

7 Odenferra’s Dream

8 Brennciyn

9 Out of the Mountains

10 Rats

11 Fear Elementals

12 Sorvizor

13 Magicians and Lizards

14 The Temeriyn Streams

15 The Hermit of Rosentiir

16 Knaamen

17 Paleuvila

18 Dolarim

19 King Julius

20 Calencanth

21 The Eastern Grasslands

22 Hyritorre

23 Darkness

24 The Warlord’s Training

25 Lord Vaclyner

26 The Hunter’s Return

27 Vorocante’s Plan

28 Friends and Allies

29 The Battle for Boschvila

Epilogue

You had a way of making me feel so good about myself and sometimes a way of making me feel so bad. Nobody else EVER had that power and never will. No matter how successful I may or may not become, I will never see you seeing it and, in a sense, all my victories will be hollow. A part of me died with you. I will never ever give up

FOR YOU

Oh Tommy! I’m so prouuuuud of you!

Oh my God, I miss you, Mom.

Special thanks to God, Meghan Ward,

Cornelia Yoder, Tabitha Bingham, and Jools

TerraHechFinalMapnew.jpg

1

THE PROUD LIAR

Y ou? Slew a Krenshar? You expect us to believe that? Vaclyner’s friend, Fragiir, guffawed loud enough for the rest of the tavern to hear. The large man had the gift of the largest laugh in the western forest towns.

Of course I slew it, replied Vaclyner. Why don’t you believe me?

Well, prove it, then, said Fragiir, before taking a long drink from his mug.

Yeah! Several others in the group joined in. Prove it to us, Vaclyner. Show us its head. How about a claw? You could have brought back something. Vaclyner felt like he was being looked at through the magnifying glass of Demitrus, Boschvila’s local magic user. He’d never experienced this kind of scrutiny before and he decided that he didn’t like it one bit.

I’d be satisfied with its tail, Fragiir wiped at the froth in his beard with his sleeve. Every time you come back from the forest, you show up here and tell us about some terrible creature you’ve killed without ever supplying a shred of evidence. Where’s the proof?

Vaclyner unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a line of dried blood running from his left shoulder to the bottom of his sternum. Well, what about this? How do you think I got this?

Haw! I expect you threw yourself at a tree just to lend your story credence.

Besides, said Eryk, a villager three years Vaclyner’s senior, everyone knows that Krenshars travel in groups. If you’d really killed the lone scout, all of Boschvila would be over-run by now. They may be animals, but they’re crafty enough to follow you here.

Vaclyner felt his face grow hot in embarrassment. He stayed silent, but amid the dubious muttering and laughter, he heard one gentle voice whispering in his ear.

Well, I don’t care if you killed anything or not. It was Kirianna, Vaclyner’s friend since childhood. All I know is I like the look of that wound. It means you’ve grown stronger no matter how you got it. And I like the look of the chest that bears it.

He turned to her and saw a look in her eyes he’d never imagined he’d ever see Kirianna give him. He’d only seen that look once two years ago when Fragiir had taken him to a brothel in Fleuvila, a city on the Alamarin River some one hundred fifty miles to the east. He’d had a very eye opening time there. It was a strange sensation seeing it in the eyes of this girl he’d played in puddles with when they were both three years old.

Well, I’ve had enough of this for one night, said Eryk. I’m going home to get some sleep. Most of the others in the group mumbled in agreement and finished off their mugs.

As they started to leave, Kirianna leaned into Vaclyner and whispered, I’ll be going home too. You can come along if you like.

Vaclyner didn’t need a bigger hint than that. Absolutely, he replied as he got up to pay his tab. He tossed a few coins on the bar and had just turned to go when he felt a hand on his shoulder restraining him. It was Fragiir. The look on his face wasn’t pleasant.

Hold on, said the big man. We need to talk.

Vaclyner looked over to the doorway where Kirianna stood waiting and gave her an apologetic look. She smiled at him and shrugged.

Some other time, she said over her shoulder as she turned and walked out of the tavern.

This had better be important, said Vaclyner as Fragiir dragged him back to the table. I just missed out on a very interesting night.

You can forget about Kirianna tonight. Yeah, it’s important. Sit down. Vaclyner took a seat and Fragiir sat across from him.

OK, what’s this about?

It’s about your stories, replied Fragiir. They have to stop.

Who says they’re just stories…

Don’t pull that with me, Vac. The boys are gone. You don’t have to impress me.

Vaclyner felt the hotness rise to his cheeks again but he let it pass. Why do they have to stop?

Because, there are real dangers out there, Fragiir answered. If you ever run into something real, you won’t be able to fight it. Don’t give me that look. You’ll have to come back here to warn everybody. If you’re a known liar, then no one will believe you, and that could be trouble for us all.

Vaclyner closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. This village has been here for thousands of years and we haven’t been bothered by the outside world once in all that time. What’s out there that could really be so dangerous to us?

Now you listen to me, boy. Fragiir’s voice became dark and graveled. I won’t pretend to have seen the whole world, but I’ve seen far more than you. Your father and I traveled together before he disappeared. It’s not just magical creatures looking for a good meal out there. There are people in the world with magical powers you’ve never imagined. They wield so much power, they could be thought to be more than human. Or less than human depending on your point of view and depending on how they use that power. Any one of them could decide tomorrow that the people of Boschvila would make a fine source of slaves, or subjects of their magical experiments. And, yes, even a good meal. So, you see that it would be difficult enough to defend ourselves against such an attack without some fool running in and out of the forest claiming to have killed any number of terrible beasts. And come to think of it, what would be worse — being thought of as a liar or being thought of as a great hero when you aren’t one?

It was a lot to take in, and Vaclyner was momentarily stunned by the mention of his father. He had been just three years old when his father went hunting in the forest and never came back. He was fortunate enough to have one or two memories of his father, vague though they were. The man’s favorite color was red and he had several shirts of that color. His father also had three identical rings made — one each for Vaclyner, Vaclyner’s mother, and himself. Vaclyner still wore his ring on a chain around his neck. It had become far too small to wear on his fingers as he grew. His mother died when he was ten and Vaclyner was taken in by Fragiir until he turned fifteen when a young man was expected to make his own living. His mother’s ring was buried with her.

We’re not…we’re not so defenseless. We have Demitrus. He has magic.

Demitrus! In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve only seen him perform two spells. He can light a fire and put it out again. Handy for cooking and helping with house fires, but against the magic that’s out there, he’d shrivel into nothing. Believe me, Vaclyner, I’ve seen a battle between two great magic wielders. They laid waste to the land for miles around. I only watched from the ledge of a mountain and I never want to see something like that any closer.

Vaclyner closed his eyes and sighed, defeated. All right, Fragiir. The stories will stop. I promise.

That’s good, Fragiir replied. He leaned back in his chair and looked at his young friend. Vaclyner saw a puzzled look cross the big man’s face. Fragiir held his gaze for a moment before speaking. So, how did you get that gash on your chest anyway?

Oh, that. Vaclyner looked sheepish. I was walking down a steep slope in the forest and slipped. I fell face first and my shoulder hit a sharp stone that cut across me as I slid down the hill.

Fragiir continued to stare at the boy for a few moments longer, and then burst out with a thunderous laugh. Vaclyner stood up and walked out of the tavern, his face burning once more. He could still hear Fragiir’s laughter as he walked home in the dark.

2

THE LADY’S MESSENGER

T he sun had just risen over the horizon when Vaclyner entered the forest the next morning. Beams of red light shone through the trees, giving the forest floor a mottled look, which left him feeling uneasy. As he made his way deeper into the trees, he could remember the taunts of his friends from the night before. Their laughter echoed in his mind, causing him to twitch and cringe in renewed embarrassment. Along with his bow and quiver, he had also brought his skinning knife with him. When he remembered Fragiir’s admonishments, his hand gripped the knife hilt, eager to draw it.

Gritting his teeth against such instincts, he made his way down into a dry streambed which he used as a path to head north. After following this path for about fifteen minutes, the western bank began to rise. He reached a certain point that was familiar to him and scrambled out of the streambed to higher ground. He came upon a large boulder, his usual perch, which he could sit behind in wait for his prey on the far side of the stream below. Once there, he sank to his knees, sat on his heels, and waited.

He’d decided to start hunting on his own three years earlier — as soon as he became strong enough to string a bow. As it turned out, he discovered that he was good at it from the start. His skill with a bow was excellent, and he would return home from his trips with kills on a regular basis. It was on the one-year anniversary of his first kill that he managed to slay the giant wolf. It was that feat that got him treated like a hero for a time. It was what prompted Fragiir to take him to Fleuvila for a real man’s celebration. And it was the feat that was the basis for all his stories for the following two years.

Normally, he would be kneeling behind his rock thinking of the next creature he could claim to have slain. But he had to admit that Fragiir was right. He couldn’t go on recreating his single past glory. He was just a boy of eighteen years old hunting for food in the woods. The whole idea only frustrated him and embarrassed him anew, so he tried thinking about Kirianna instead. He had just conjured up the look she gave him in his mind when he heard the voice.

So, you’re Vaclyner of Boschvila, are you?

The boy jumped and spun around to face the direction the voice had come from. He saw nothing.

Who’s there?

What was the Lady thinking? She doesn’t usually make mistakes.

Who’s there, I say? Show yourself!

Yes, I suppose so. For a moment nothing happened, then an old man dressed in hardly more than rags walked out from behind a tree far too narrow to have hidden him. He was short and very thin. He looked like he could simply fall apart at any moment. "You are Vaclyner, aren’t you?

How do you know my name?

Well, I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, replied the old man.

Remembering Fragiir’s warning, Vaclyner drew his skinning knife and pointed it at the strange old man. Answer me.

For a moment, the man looked like he was going to laugh at the sight of the small blade. He did quietly scoff before replying, That will do you no good, boy. Impressive gut hook, but I’m under my Lady’s protection. Put that thing away and I’ll tell you what I’ve been sent to tell you and nothing more.

Vaclyner hesitated and stared at the old man, then slowly sheathed the knife. This had better be good. You’re scaring away any animals I could be hunting with your talk.

The old man ignored the comment. That’s better. Now. I have been sent by the Lady Anadella to find you and give you a message of great importance and benefit to you. But by the looks of you, I’m not sure if you’re worthy of such a message.

Not worthy? Vaclyner was taken aback. He wasn’t sure if he liked this crazy old man very much. You don’t look like much yourself. Are you sure you’re in a position to defy this Lady of yours?

Well, you certainly have the attitude she requires. Very well then, I’ll tell you. Sit down.

The boy sat back down on his heels and waited for the man to speak.

The Lady Anadella has been watching you and she knows your troubles. She feels that you would be a worthy student and would like to help you become the hero that you pretend to be. Then you’ll be able to show those fools in the village who you really are.

Watching me. How can she be watching me? Are you a spy?

I can tell you that she doesn’t like to be interrupted when she speaks, so if you accept this gift, you might want to break that habit. The old man pulled at his beard and scowled at the boy. I am not a spy. The Lady Anadella is a sorceress of great esteem among her peers, and one of her many powers is seeing and hearing things far away. Now if I may continue.

Fine, sighed Vaclyner.

Good. Now, the Lady doesn’t make this offer to just anyone. She’s only done it three times before since I’ve started working for her, and all three times the candidates proved themselves unworthy. It’s my job to tell you what she requires of you. Then you will accept it or not. Are you with me so far?

That depends, said Vaclyner. What about you? Did you ever have to pass this mysterious test?

You ask too many questions, boy, the old man growled through his teeth. If it were up to me, I’d just forget about you and move on.

Yes, but it isn’t up to you, replied Vaclyner. It sounds like I hit a nerve. So let’s have it. Tell me about your failure.

The old man growled once more and held up his right hand showing stumps where his last two fingers should have been. I failed the test because what the Lady had to teach me required the full use of both hands. I lost these fingers on the way to her castle. She didn’t send me home because she decided I would make a good enough messenger. Now if you will stay silent, I can do that job.

Vaclyner had to suppress a laugh. He remembered the laughter directed at him the night before and felt he understood the urge now. Then he remembered the way the laughter felt and decided to stop giving this old man such a hard time.

All right, then, he said. What does Lady Anadella want me to do?

The idea is simple, really, replied the old man. All you have to do is arrive at her castle far to the east alive and in one piece. Then you will have earned the right to become her student.

That’s all? That sounds too easy.

Easy, is it? Did you listen to nothing your friend told you last night? Yes, Lady Anadella heard that too. You’ve seen my hand; I was the lucky one. The other two never made it.

Vaclyner tried to imagine the obstacles that could stop a man from simply walking to a castle and failed. How did they die, then? You could at least tell me that.

How should I know? the old man shouted. I wasn’t there and the Lady never told me. Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you. That would make the challenge too easy.

Well, where is this castle? the boy asked. You say it’s far to the east, but that could mean anything. Do you have a map?

A map! Don’t be ridiculous, boy. I suppose you’ll want a horse to ride or a dragon to simply fly you there.

What’s a horse? Vaclyner had never heard of such a creature.

Never mind. The Lady lives in Hyritorre Castle. Can you remember that? Hyritorre. You’ll have to cross the Alamarin River and the Trenisiyn Mountains. From there, you’ll go south about a hundred miles then turn east again across the eastern grasslands. The castle sits on a plateau at the foot of the Black Mountains. You can’t miss it; it glows blue.

The Trenisiyn Mountains? cried Vaclyner. They’re over three hundred miles from here. I’ve never climbed mountains before. How am I supposed to get past that?

It’s a challenge, boy. Challenges are supposed to be difficult. You figure it out.

Vaclyner was beginning to realize that this journey wouldn’t be as easy as it seemed. Neither he nor anyone he knew had any idea what lay on the far side of the Trenisiyn Mountains. And he’d never even heard of the Black Mountains.

So what’s your decision, boy? asked the old man. And try to make your answer snappy. I never cared for the forest very much. I’d much rather be back in my room at the castle.

I’m not sure, replied Vaclyner. If I go, I’ll have food and water to think about. I can hunt, sure, but I have no idea what kind of game I might find on the way. There could be nothing. Maybe I could go back to the village and get some food. At any rate, I’d like to ask Fragiir what he thinks of all this. He’ll know what I should do.

Absolutely not! If you leave, you’ll leave from where you stand and you’ll leave now. Got it? Anyway, I can tell you what your friend will say. He’ll forbid you to go at all. He’ll stop you physically if he has to. At the very least, he’ll insist on going with you and this is a journey you must make on your own. If it’s food you’re worried about, don’t. The Lady has foreseen this problem and is willing to provide you with a small amount of help on that score.

The old man paused to scratch his beard. An unpleasant look came to his face but he didn’t speak of it.

What is it? Vaclyner saw the old man’s discomfort and wasn’t about to let the possibility of prying more information out of him pass. What troubles you, old man?

Aagh, the old man scoffed. The Lady never gave help to me or the others as far as I know. Perhaps she favors you for some reason. I can’t see why.

Oh, Vaclyner wasn’t disappointed to hear it despite the old man’s opinion. But tell me about this help the Lady will give me. Where can I find food?

Not so fast. I won’t say one more word until I have your answer. Yes or no?

Vaclyner thought about the laughter from the previous night. It was well deserved but that didn’t make how he felt about it any less real. He knew that if he could just prove himself, they would give him the respect and admiration he had enjoyed briefly after killing the wolf. He thought of Kirianna and what she had said about not caring if he was a hero or not. That was all very well, but a little voice inside him told him to imagine how she would react if he really were everything he claimed to be, and more. He had to admit that he’d been pretending at being a man and this could be a chance to stop pretending at last. He wouldn’t have to imagine adventures anymore.

All right. I’ll go, he said.

Excellent. As for the food, there’s a hidden cache at the eastern edge of the forest. It won’t be easy to find, so she’s kept it challenging, at least. It’ll be at the base of the largest tree in the forest, in fact, and it’s marked by a pile of stones. Once you’ve found that, it won’t be easy to get to. You’ll have to remove all the stones and dig it up. It’s encased in a box made of solid oak. It’s one solid piece, mind you, and it’s no fair breaking it open. The Lady will know. To make it a little easier, I’ve been required to give you this.

The old man reached into the front of his ragged shirt and pulled out a bronze medallion. It had been cast with a design that was unfamiliar to Vaclyner: a jumble of crescent shapes and crossed lines. Perhaps it was a rune of some kind.

What is that? he asked the old man.

Couldn’t tell you. I was told to give it to you and that’s all. I know it will be needed to get to the food cache, but I have no idea how it’s supposed to work. Apparently, you’ll know when you get there. I’d hold on to it until you get to Hyritorre if I were you. Sounds like it could prove to be useful. Here

Vaclyner took the medallion and looked at it once more, tracing the design with his fingers before putting it around his neck and tucking it under his shirt.

That’s it, the old man said. Time for me to be getting back.

Vaclyner watched as he turned to leave then stopped him. Wait. What’s your name, old man?

He gave Vaclyner a pointed look and issued a raspy laugh through crooked teeth. He walked behind a tree and was gone. Vaclyner sighed, checked the position of his bow and quiver, and walked east, making his way toward the edge of the forest.

3

THE TALLEST TREE

T he sun was just less than two hours from setting when Vaclyner reached the eastern edge of the forest. His way had been often blocked by brambles, which proved to be a good source of berries yet kept him from moving forward. While he managed to forge through some of the smaller bushes, several times he had been forced to turn aside and go around them. He had also been lucky enough to watch the final seconds of a fox chasing and catching a rabbit. He shot one arrow at the fox, narrowly missing it. Startled, the fox ran off into the brush and Vaclyner was able to take the rabbit for himself, using his flint and steel to start a cooking fire.

He knew the forest fairly well, but he had never been to the edge of it in this direction, so he had no idea which tree might be the largest. The trees grew close enough together in this part of the forest that he wasn’t able to tell just by looking up. Luckily, he had an idea how he might find it that didn’t involve looking for a pile of rocks at the base of every tree. When he reached the tree line, he kept walking onto the Misston Plains for about half a mile. Then he turned and scanned the distant tree line. It didn’t take him long to find it. There was one tree that clearly rose nearly twenty feet above all the others. Smiling to himself, he set off back toward the forest, keeping his eye on the tree.

The tree was larger than he expected, with the trunk measuring more than five feet wide at the base before its roots spread out for dozens of feet in all directions. He found the rock pile easily enough at the southern face of the great tree. Once Vaclyner had removed his bow and quiver to allow him freer movement, he began clearing away the stones. Using the flattest stone he could find as a spade, he started digging for the buried food cache. It must have rained in this part of the forest recently, making it easy to move the soft dirt.

He had reached the top of the oak box and was clearing out an area around it when his make shift shovel struck what he thought was a root at first. But as he kept scraping, he realized the root was really the leather scabbard of a sword. It took some time, but soon, he had uncovered both the wooden box and sword from the ground.

Upon further inspection, he saw that both items bore the same design as the medallion around his neck. The old man had been right: he knew how to open the box. He pulled the medallion out of his shirt and placed the disc over the carved design on the top of the box. There was a clicking sound, and the top slid back to reveal a satchel containing dried meat, several pieces of fruit, and a folded loaf of flat bread. It wasn’t much but it would last him a few days, more if he rationed it. Perhaps he could find a way to fish when he got to the river.

Setting the satchel on the ground, he turned his attention to the sword and drew it from its scabbard. The blade was bright and clean. It could have been forged the day before. He contemplated the circular design at the center of the cross guard. He knew now that the medallion was like a key to unlock spells marked with the same design, but he wasn’t sure what effect it would have if he used it on the sword. If he were to believe all the things Fragiir had told him, magic could do anything. He supposed he would have plenty of time to find out later, but here in the forest it could be unsafe. Best not to risk it. He slid the blade back into the scabbard and was just preparing to gather everything back up when he heard another voice.

Hello. Do you like my tree? The voice was that of a young girl, but when he looked toward the tree, there was no mistaking that this was no mere child. She had a body like no other Vaclyner had ever encountered, perfect in form and proportion in every way imaginable. She wore a skin tight dress that had the look of tree bark yet was as smooth as her skin and shone in streaks when touched by the evening sun. Vaclyner stood enraptured, drawn to her as he had never been drawn to any female before. He didn’t even notice that he hadn’t answered her.

Hello, she repeated. Is there anyone home?

Vaclyner’s eyes slid their way up her body to look into her eyes. She may have had the body of a woman, but she had a face to match her voice. Her bright green eyes were set in a round childlike visage framed by short reddish-brown hair. She blinked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak, but all he read in them was come to me. Vaclyner didn’t take three steps before she held her arm out to stop him.

I said, ‘Do you like my tree?’ You don’t come an inch closer until I get the right answer.

The words brought Vaclyner up short and the spell was broken. He batted his eyes heavily and shook his head. Even then, he had to force himself to look away from her face to the tree behind her.

It’s…very nice, he breathed. The tallest and mightiest tree in the whole forest. It must be very old and strong.

Mmmm, she purred. That’s the right answer. But, go on. What else?

Looking away from her allowed him to come to his senses. He realized, then, that she had appeared suddenly in front of the tree. She hadn’t walked up to him at all. He knew this because he was facing the tree while he had been inspecting the oak box and sword. He would have seen something. There was magic at work here. Perhaps she wasn’t even human.

What are you? What do you mean by ‘your’ tree?

She laughed at the words, causing her breasts to heave and Vaclyner almost fell under her spell once more. He found he really didn’t mind.

I’m a wood nymph. She bent her legs slightly as she spoke, running her hands down her legs to her knees.

What’s a wood nymph, he asked.

She giggled at the question and Vaclyner caught his breath at the sight of her shaking body. A wood nymph is a part of the tree. I don’t just live here; I’m attached to the tree and it to me. We protect each other. As long as the tree lives, I live, and if I am healthy, the tree is healthy. Neither of us could exist without the other.

Vaclyner looked down at the shape of her dress and sighed. Then your tree is very healthy.

This time, she took a step closer to him. Mmmm. You know just the right things to say to a girl. Come here.

Without realizing the unnaturalness of his attraction, Vaclyner fell under the wood nymph’s spell again and embraced her. As their lips met, he became lost in the softness and warmth of her body against his. There was a tingling sensation on his skin wherever their bodies touched, even through his clothes, which only made him want to hold her tighter.

Vaclyner was totally oblivious to the fact they were moving closer to the nymph’s tree as they kissed, one step at a time. His mind was only on his desire for this creature’s body, the intensity of his lust rising like fire to levels he’d never felt before in his life. He thought of her child-like face and wanted to examine it more closely. Cracking one eye open, he marveled at her ageless beauty.

It was sheer luck that broke the nymph’s spell again. As the pair drew nearer to the tree, Vaclyner sensed a flash of bright red on the ground at its base. With a concentrated effort of will, he shifted his eyes from her face to see what it was that dared distract him from this state of pure ecstasy. Hidden behind one of the tree’s great roots were the gruesome remains of a human skeleton still dressed in a bright red shirt.

Fear tore through him as he wrenched his eyes from the body back to the nymph’s face. Her eyes, wide open now, had turned a sickly yellow as they flashed pure animal hatred toward this invader of her home. The embrace was no longer soft and inviting. Vaclyner could feel her hands turn as cold and stiff as the branches of the tree that gave her life.

Pushing away from her, he grabbed for his skinning knife, the only weapon he was carrying. He had to take a moment to accept the fact that she was no longer the beautiful young woman he had first encountered. This turned out to be easy; her feral eyes vibrated in their sockets, and her wooden fingers were nearly six inches longer than normal. She snarled at the sight of the knife, revealing a mouthful of sharpened teeth. It was a wonder she hadn’t managed to bite his tongue off while they were kissing.

He lunged forward and slashed at her mid-section, but he was ineffective. The blade merely slid across her flesh without piercing it. The wood nymph didn’t appear to be in pain, yet she screamed at Vaclyner’s attempt to harm her. Hoping to hit a vulnerable spot, he attacked her again, stabbing at her face.

This time, she readied to defend herself as Vaclyner got close. She swung an arm at him, backhanding the right side of his face. She was much more powerful than she looked, and the blow sent him flying. Vaclyner managed to keep from cracking his head on one of the great roots of the tree by breaking his fall with his arms. By sheer luck, the blade of his skinning knife sliced into the root right next to his head.

The wood nymph let out another blood-curdling scream, and Vaclyner assumed it was because he had managed to damage a part of her tree. He turned his head toward her, and from this vantage point, he could clearly see blood seeping from a fresh wound on one of the toes of her left foot. Could it be?

Putting his new thought to the test, he slashed again at the tree root. Sure enough, a new wound opened on the wood nymph’s foot and again she screamed in pain. Realizing he need not attack her directly, he regained his feet and made for the tree. The nymph was too shocked and preoccupied with her wounds to stop him. He stabbed at the tree, hoping to affect a more vital area on the nymph, but the skinning knife was too small to penetrate the tree’s thick bark.

The sword! Vaclyner spun around and ran to the sword he had left on the ground. By now, the nymph had recovered her wits enough to renew her attack with even greater rage than before. As Vaclyner tried dodging her, she swung her arm out, catching his throat with her forearm and knocking him to the ground. She immediately jumped on him and tore at anything within reach. The nymph was so blinded by fury; she had become sloppy with her scratching. She ended up clawing at the ground more than anything else. Still, she had landed a blow on Vaclyner’s shoulder, opening a part of the wound he had sustained the day before. He needed to reach that sword.

The nymph may have had the magical protection of her tree and was terrifying with her animal-like features, but Vaclyner was far larger and more physically powerful. Her attack had left his knife arm free, and he was able to slash at a nearby root, causing her to scream and kick her legs in anguish. This was enough for Vaclyner to push her off and scramble the remaining distance to his sword.

He wasted no time removing it from the scabbard and running back to the tree. He swung at the trunk in a great arc but to no avail; the blade merely bounced off the tree’s rough skin. The wood nymph came at him again and, in desperation, Vaclyner swung at her head with the flat surface of the sword’s blade. It did no real damage, but the blow was enough to knock her away for a few moments, giving him time to think.

He looked at the sword in his hand and knew the answer. In one smooth motion, he pulled the medallion from around his neck and jammed the disc onto the matching design on the sword’s cross guard. All at once, the sword started to glow. Vaclyner could feel its power running down his arm, and even the nymph shrank away.

Vaclyner didn’t know why he hesitated at that moment, but there was something about the nymph’s show of fear that made him pause. He looked at her crouching on the forest floor and could almost still see the beautiful, delicate person she had been only a few minutes ago. He looked down at her bloodied feet and his heart ached for her pain. She looked back at him and as their eyes met, he saw a deep sadness behind the yellow glow of animal instinct. Slowly, inch by inch, he began to lower his sword. That was all the wood nymph needed and the murderous monster was back. Snarling, she screamed at Vaclyner once more as she sprang up, flying toward him.

Not knowing what else to do, Vaclyner plunged the sword directly into the trunk of the wood nymph’s tree. The nymph was in midair as the hole opened in her belly, blood flying everywhere. Knowing her outstretched claws were still a danger to him, Vaclyner threw himself to the side and let her pass. The hilt of the sword was perfectly aligned with the hole in the nymph’s torso and her forward motion caused her to impale herself on it. Her head smashed into the tree’s trunk, and for a moment, her body rested limply with the sword’s hilt sticking out of her back. Then, slowly, she slid backwards and tumbled to the ground.

Not knowing if her magic would lend her some kind of unnatural strength, Vaclyner rushed to the tree and retrieved the sword, keeping it ready. He took a step forward and looked down at her broken body and watched in horror and amazement as her claws, teeth and eyes reverted back to normal. Her breath came in deep, gurgling gasps as she tried to speak, but all strength was gone. Vaclyner had to