Nava and the Griffin
"Choose carefully. You don't know what it can do," the Griffin said. "Sometimes it can strike back at any moment, yessir."
Nava glared back at the motherly creature. "How am I supposed to know how to approach it properly if it can retaliate anyway?"
"That's up for you to decide," replied the Griffin, her tail swaying back and forth. She chuckled to herself, anticipating Nava's choice: life or death.
"Give me a clue...I only need to find my friend, nothing else. Please, just tell me," Nava heard herself plead.
Once more, the Griffin giggled. "That's cheating, young mage. I believe life is all about decisions, is it not? Then, let this be one that chooses whether you continue to live, or fail and die."
Nava, frustrated, grunted and looked at both paths, while the Griffin patiently awaited her choice. Humming, the Griffin licked her babies clean quietly, making Nava feel alone and uneasy. The feeling you get when something seems to be watching you. Like someone spying on you, taking notes on you, following you, and finally finding you. The feeling of being stalked. Thus, Nava would turn or look behind her every once in a while, just to make sure everything was in balance.
The Griffin, however, slowly became more impatient with each passing minute. "What's it going to be, little mage? Left or right? The path of your friend, or the path that curses you to the mountain chenoo?"
Nava squirmed and whimpered in anxiety. Her entire life depended on this one decision. Choose right, victory triumphs. Choose wrong, you fail everyone you've ever known or loved. A tough choice upon her, she decided to stall a little more.
"Are you absolutely sure you saw them take her beyond this point?"
"I dunno," the sly Griffin sneered. "Did they? Do I even know who you speak of? Probably. Do I know who you're searching for? Yes. Do I wish to help you? I dunno."
"Can I please just have a correct answer?" Nava asked, desperate.
"I dunno," laughed the creature. "Can you?"
"Your satire is vexatious," Nava said. She sighed out of exasperation knowing that at this point she wouldn't have any answers before she had eventually frozen to death up here in the mountains.
She once more looked at both paths. One leading to impending doom, the other leading to her friend. She pulled her cloak further over her shoulders and shivered, the heavy snow now piling on top of her dark blue hair. Her legs shuddered violently in the cold air, the skin beneath the silk turning blue. A decision had to be made soon, or else something drastic was bound to happen. Clutching her book of spells and sword, Nava quivered and trudged her way through the storm and began to walk up the left path.
The Griffin's eyes were locked onto Nava as her footprints were soon covered up by the fresh, new, white flakes that drifted to the Earth. Chuckling, she began to pick at her talons.
"I wonder who she was," she asked herself, then looking down at her baby. "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it? After all, no one will be seeing her again so soon, now will they?"
Aria and the Nyrithian Bugtraps
With ease and caution, Aria stepped over and avoided each bugtrap that was in sight. The enormous and oversized plants were pink in the center, but others have the decaying bodies of insects that unfortunately fell for the plant's deceitful tricks. Sucked dry, the insect bodies were as light as feathers, and as flaky as they seemed.
Aria grieved for them, much so as she grieved for her friend. However, she was smart enough to not trip and fall into these plant's demonic intentions. For she had a friend to find.
The traps gazed and stared at her like security cameras surrounding her at all angles and all sides. Enclosed in a space that which is not your personal space. They watched her every move, every step, learning the patterns she took.
Then, one went to strike.
A vine slapped the ground in front of dear Aria, the sudden sound making her jolt. Luckily, she avoided the trap and evaded the plant that had its mouth wide open for her.
"Sorry," she cooed to the plant, impressed at its attempt. "But I wouldn't be a tasty meal. Not for you."
The plants knew she was lying. Brown mushrooms whispered to the traps about her intentions, about her cerebral ways. Of course, no witch like Aria could be so easily fooled by a simple tripwire. She'd make a fool of herself when her body would be found!
Ants, the size of rats, scurried across the traps like it was a modern floor, and cicadas, the size of crows, cried their call. Distracting, it was. Luckily for Aria, the witch of charm, something so small and weak could not taint her in any way.
Traps slowly grew more aggressive, vines now more oftenly smacking the ground in vexation, some even attempting to grab Aria's ankles and wrists.
"How rude!" She vehemently shouted. "Why allow these ants to move while I'm being targeted? That is no way to treat a lady."
Taking offense, the ants moved more swiftly between the plants, and the traps allowed them to go without harm. Aria concluded that it was to spite her, or tease her, or lower her guard. Yet Aria kept passing.
She could see the lake ahead of her, the place she needed to go.
"Not much longer now," she told herself. "Just keep moving and don't let them trick you."
Of course, the plants could hear every word. The Nyrithian bugtraps were certainly things to fear. One false step and you're as good as mincemeat.
Arriving at the lakes unscathed, jellyfish and many exotic fish gazed at Aria's beauty from beneath the surface. As beautiful as she was, she was not there for them.
They'd never seen such a beautiful creature, certainly not a land lover. Goldfish and trout began jumping out of the lake just to get a closer look, Aria tittering at them. One false step.
Good as mincemeat.
She is.
The largest of the pack launched from the blanket, nearly touching Aria's face. Startled, she stumbled back towards the bugtraps, tripping over one of the vines that had previously attempted her.
The bugtrap closed like a mousetrap, crushing Aria between its nectar-coated walls. In a panic, she tried flailing to free herself from the horticultural prison, but to no avail, nothing could change this fate.
Soon, the hairs that had been patiently waiting for something to come along injected themselves into Aria's soft skin. Without further hesitation, the hairs, acting like tongues, began to suck away at the fresh and magical blood that ran through Aria's body. It slurped and gulped, savoring each and every last drop, while Aria's cries for help and screams of pain were drowned out by the cicadas' cry.
It was the best meal the trap had ever tasted. Truly one to remember. Once Aria was drained dry, the trap reopened itself, revealing the decaying and colorless body of Aria Majo.
