The Land Set Aflame

Chapter 47: The Magical Bow

The Forest of Mellesh was a singularly remarkable place. As they walked through it, they passed by picturesque trees and streams and gardens with such otherworldly beauty as Svenden had never imagined. His magic anxiety had been throbbing so loudly in this place that he was essentially numb to it now. Numb to everything, really.

He couldn't even tell anymore whether that little ember of nymph charm was still burning in his heart, and he couldn't even remember whether or not he was still trying to resist it. He looked down and realized that, somewhere along the way, he'd allowed Callyndia to start holding his hand again. Or at least, he'd failed to disallow it.

He wondered if he could work up the resolve to pull his hand free from her grasp. If he could do it here, in this place where all the cards were stacked in the nymphs' favor, then surely that meant he had the will power to resist her charms anywhere. That would mean that he was fully in control of his own mind, and it would be okay to be in love with her.

Maybe. But she still wouldn't be in love with him.

A few minutes later, they finally reached their apparent destination: another tree, dripping with silver-tinged leaves and emitting a faint glow from beneath the exciting contours of its ruffled bark. Alloria Rosa put her hand on the tree, and an arched door appeared on its surface, which she opened and walked in.

Callyndia finally let Svenden's hand go free — yes, he'd apparently failed — and let him walk in before her.

They walked into a sumptuous room not unlike the one they had awakened in, much larger than should have fit inside that tree trunk, and much more lavishly appointed than any tree interior ought to be. Everything was lace and silk, and the gentle light seemed to be coming in from everywhere, leaving no room for shadows as it massaged his eyes.

There was a table in the center of the room, clothed in decorous velvet. An exquisitely crafted longbow of smooth, silvery wood rested on the velvet. Its entire length was covered in beautifully impractical abstract carvings that resembled vines and leaves.

Alloria Rosa lifted that piece of art and presented it ceremoniously towards Svenden.

He blinked. "Wait, what's this?" he asked.

"This is Silversprig's Arc," the Nymph Queen answered unhelpfully.

"A bow?" he asked, "You're... you're giving me a bow?"

"You need a new one," she said, "Your old one isn't up to the task."

He blinked again. "What task?" he asked.

Alloria Rosa exchanged a look with her daughter, almost as if to ask, 'What do you see in this silly boy?' She smiled politely and stepped forward, gently holding out the bow for him to take. "Well, I won't have you trying to protect my daughter with an ineffective weapon. If you run into more shadow spirits or elementals, you'll need this bow."

He looked at it skeptically. "It's beautiful," he said, "But, it's just a display piece, right? You don't... can it actually stand up to real use in the field?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Clearly, it had been offensive to even ask. "The fairies of Mellesh are expert archers," she said, "Perhaps we lack the brute strength of centaur bowman, but our craftsmanship is unparalleled. As is our magic."

She hefted the fancy bow in her hands. "Silversprig's Arc was made from a young tree that died before its time. Any arrow you shoot from this bow will harm a spirit as if it were a physical creature."

"I can kill spirits with this?" Svenden asked.

"Well, you can't actually kill a spirit," Alloria Rosa corrected him, "Spirits don't die the way mortals do, and you can't really harm them, either. But a hit with an arrow from this bow will cause their physical forms to dissipate for a time..." She must have seen the unfocused look in his eyes, because she stopped and sighed. "Yes. Yes, it will kill spirits. Just don't point it at me."

He reluctantly took the bow in his hand, and he instantly knew he was holding something truly wondrous. His fingers tingled slightly as they felt the thrum of magic. Every impulse in his hand was to let go and drop it, but his heart told him to keep it, to want it.

He swallowed as he looked at it, utterly humbled and terrified. "Thank you," he said meekly, "But, why are you giving this to me?"

"My daughter is very important to me, Svenden," she said, "Her protector must have the best equipment."

He tried to swallow the concerns that rose in his mind. He tried to protest: "I'm not sure I'm..." But the words felt a bit weak, and he lacked the conviction to finish the sentence.

Alloria Rosa didn't seem to be listening, anyway. She had turned her back to him, and she was grabbing something else from the velvet-draped table (which he could have sworn was empty a moment ago). She turned back around, and in her hands was what looked like a curved chunk of unusually thick tree bark affixed to a baldric.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Fairy archers don't carry arrows," she explained, "We can pull them out of trees around us. You're not a fairy, so you need a special quiver to do that."

"That's a quiver?" Svenden asked skeptically.

"Give it a try!" Callyndia urged him, nudging him with a shoulder.

He sighed and accepted the thing, looping the baldric over his shoulder. It didn't quite feel right for a quiver: it was heavy, it balanced strangely, and there was an awkward angle jabbing into his back. He tried to adjust it a few times, but he soon noticed that it was adjusting itself, tightening and straightening until it rested perfectly and comfortably. And its weight seemed to disappear too.

"Draw an arrow!" Callyndia said excitedly.

He hesitated for a moment, but reached back as if to pull an arrow from that random block of wood on his back. To his surprise, there was an arrow there, waiting for him. He looked back over his shoulder at it. It looked like a small, impossibly straight branch growing from the top of a block of wood. He pulled on it, and it slid free just like an arrow from a quiver, and he was holding a beautiful, straight arrow. There was no arrowhead: just a sharpened wooden tip. And the fletching resembled leaves more than feathers. But somehow, this felt like a perfect arrow.

He exhaled slowly. "There's a catch, isn't there?" he asked, "You're going to ask me to do some kind of quest for you, aren't you?"

"Of course, dear," Alloria Rosa replied sweetly.