The Gable Forest
Jeanine screamed, urging the villagers of Kaljah onward to escape the Gobelins. "Run," she cried. "Run!" When she looked at the distance they had yet to cover, their fate became obvious. They wouldn't make it. A cold panic set into the pit of her stomach. They had been fleeing Kaljah for little more than an hour and already her flock was scattered; those in the back were far behind the leaders. The gap between them was growing larger. No one was able to run forever.
She turned Storm sharply and then backtracked, cantering to the rear. "Hurry!" she cried waving her arms. "Hurry!"
She saw a woman stumble and fall, crying out as she fell. Her name was Norah. Norah was middle-aged with four children grown and moved away. Jeanine led Storm over, jumping from the horse's back. She helped Norah stand.
"I canna go on," Norah cried. "I canna! Silah...Silah is back in the village. He's gunna die! We are all dead." Her anguish was a thing of nightmares.
"You mustn't cry! It will only make breathing harder," Jeanine said, losing her patience. "We are not going to die. Keep running. Keep going for Silah, for your children." She gave Norah a push from behind, spurring her forward.
The villagers continued to run. Every time she counted there were fewer. Some of the women were dropping like flies, scattered far enough back that she could no longer see them. There was only so much she could do to motivate them. After a while, she stopped looking behind her—it hurt too much.
By midday, even those in the lead stopped to rest. The children were crying for water; there was none. In the panic of escaping, water—like so many other things—was forgotten. She dismounted and lifted the young boy riding with her from Storm's back. He continued to hold the young child they had taken from a begging mother, who was likely dead; very few of the older folk had gotten this far.
She bent over and took hold of the boy's shoulders where she held him firmly. "What is your name?" she asked.
"Jorn, miss," he said, whimpering.
"Nice to meet you, Jorn. I am Jeanine. Do not let the infant out of your sight. Do you understand?" She kneeled down to his height. His eyes were wide and scared. He nodded and stood there, too stunned to move otherwise.
Rising, she began to assess the others. It was then she noticed that there were no men with them. Most of the children were barefoot, and many were crying. The few mothers who had made it were trying to comfort them. Everyone was in utter shock.
The hilly planes held little life and no promise of quenching their thirst. Any further west and they would be in the desert. She dared not take them eastward into the mountains crawling with Gobelins—that would be even more dangerous. They needed to reach the forest. She could see the green smudge looming on the horizon. They were close. Would they make it?
To get a better look at her surroundings, she climbed atop Storm's back. He was old and patient and held perfectly still as he ought. Storm was a horse bred for war. Like much else in her slice of the kingdom, he was a remnant of the brutal efforts to protect Dragonwall's homeland, just like her father, Jahl's father, and so many others. With extreme care, she first put her feet into the stirrups, and then worked her way onto the top of the saddle, slowly standing and holding her arms out for balance. Turning her head in the direction they had come, she squinted to see better. What she saw stilled her heart.
"They are coming!" she screeched, nearly toppling off Storm. All around her fresh cries rang out. Pitiful wails echoed from the lips of the mothers as they realized escape was impossible.
She squinted harder as she surveyed the Gobelins. What spurred them on so? Were they truly intent on catching the few remaining souls who fled? Then she saw something that left her heart bursting with pride—pride and fear.
Several men on horseback led the chase. They had managed to pick up a few of the stray women—as many as they could carry. It was they whom the Gobelins pursued. One of them was Jahl: She could tell by the way he moved.
Unsure if she should be relieved or angry, she silently cursed. What were they to do now? On the one hand, Jahl was still alive, and for that she thanked the gods. On the other, it seemed he was leading the Gobelins straight for them. Even if they started running again, Jeanine knew the Gobelins would catch them.
In those moments of panicked chaos, she came to the realization that all was lost, but she couldn't bear to give up. "Run!" she cried yet again. "We must go now! Flee. Flee for your lives!"
She refused to sit and wait for their death. If the Gobelins caught them, so be it, but gods be damned if they took her quietly. No, she was not going to go down without a fight.
Grabbing Jorn and the infant he held, she placed them back onto Storm. Climbing up behind him, she spurred the horse onward. The children were already on the move, followed by the remaining mothers.
They ran for what seemed like ages, yet it was only minutes before she heard the thunder of hooves behind her. Stopping, she let several of the children pass by as she waited. Jahl was in the lead.
"Jeanine!" he cried. She could hear the fear in his voice. "Jeanine, we failed! They are coming!"
Yes, she knew that already. Without waiting for him to catch up, she turned Storm and fled anew. The chestnut mare Jahl rode gained on her quickly, followed by the four other horsemen accompanying him. They were ascending a giant, singular hill. It stood alone as a dominant entity of the lands surrounding it. Before reaching the crest, Jeanine looked over her shoulder.
How many pursued them? Several hundred at least. They were doomed.
Without a second thought, she jumped from Storm's back and slapped the horse hard on the flank, spurring him onward to breach the hilltop. The horse went on without her.
"What are you doing?" Jahl shouted.
"I'm going to fight. I will not die by a knife to the back. I will die fighting, and when I meet the gods, they will praise my valor."
Jahl shook his head. He saw there was no arguing.
Her father's sword was at her waist. She was going to need that soon. Removing her bow from her back, she nocked an arrow. Her vantage point would afford her several deaths before the little demons were upon them.
Aiming high, she released. The arrow flew skyward and out of sight. She did not watch it but loaded another. From her position, she knew when the arrow struck; there was a commotion in the advancing numbers as a single Gobelin fell.
She released the next. Another Gobelin fell. By the third, her chest was pounding so violently she thought she might vomit. She almost failed to hear the horn, she almost missed the roar from above.
She released the fourth arrow, and at that very moment, a strong wind crept up. Flames erupted in front of her. Before she could process the arrival of Drengr, a hammering of hooves sounded in her ears. A blur of white rushed past her, blowing her hair about her face.
Unicorns thundered by, mounted by nearly naked men. They had strange markings upon their body. Her eyes widened. The Sprites and the Drengr had come to save them!
Drawing her sword, she prepared to enter the foray, eager to take the lives of those who had torn her village apart.
"Jeanine!" A pressure gripped her shoulder. Someone was shaking her awake. "Jeanine! Wake up!" She opened her eyes, forgetting momentarily where she was. "Hurry up and get dressed. The queen has summoned us. We are to dine with her for breakfast."
"The—the queen?" Jeanine rubbed her bleary eyes and tried to collect her thoughts. All she could see in her mind's eye was a horde of Gobelins. She shook her head, attempting to clear the nightmare from her memories. Then she jumped out of bed as if stung. "If the queen summoned us, why didn't you wake me sooner?!"
"I tried," Jahl said. "You were sleeping hard as a rock. Gods!" He shook his head and retreated, leaving her alone.
The dwelling Jeanine occupied was not hers; it felt nothing like home. Her chest tightened. Memories of her loss resurfaced, heightened by the dream she had just had. Her father's sword was propped up beside her bed. She glanced at it and a heavy pressure squeezed her, smothering her, making it difficult to breathe. She and her father had rarely seen eye-to-eye, but he had sacrificed himself for her. Now that he was gone, she was filled with regret. She should have respected him more—loved him more. She shouldn't have blamed him for so many years; her mother's death wasn't truly his fault. Now that he was dead, she would never have the chance to apologize for her bitterness.
A single tear rolled down her cheek. Then another. She sat back down on her bed, put her head in her hands, and cried. It felt good to let herself go.
Jahl knocked several minutes later, reminding her there was no time for grief. "Are you ready yet?" he called.
She wiped her eyes and called out, "Almost." Then she glanced around. The dwelling she occupied was within the base of a tree. Such a thing was nearly incomprehensible. She had never witnessed magic; Kaljah had no Mage. Now she was surrounded by it, and it wasn't any old dusty book kind of magic. This was Sprite magic.
The walls of her dwelling were made entirely of glass. The single room was large, with several well-defined areas for dining, living, and sleeping. The bathing and dressing areas were the only separate spaces, with makeshift walls made of thin, elaborately painted paper stretched over wooden frames.
She scurried into the dressing area and changed out of her bed clothes. The Sprites had left some of their own feminine garments upon the wardrobe. She had not the heart to wear any of it. Her own clothes were comforting; those simple garments—tattered as they were—were all she had left. Everything else in her new world had become so foreign, that she found herself wearing her old clothes simply to hold on to the familiar. So she continued to wear the same, pants, tunic, and leather doublet. The only thing she didn't wear were her boots, but only because many Sprites went barefoot.
After dressing, she washed her face in a crystal basin. The cold water erased the evidence of her tears. It washed away the painful memories relived in her dreams. Each night the dreams came, and each morning she washed them away. Perhaps there was magic in the water...
After their rescue, the Sprites offered her small group refuge in their forest. The villagers, excluding the children, had taken a vote on whether or not they should remain. Most believed that they should. Jeanine had raised her hand too, but only warily, and only because she had no home left. Once they accepted the Sprites' offer, they left Nilsa outpost. Nilsa outpost was owned by the Sprites; its existence, like the existence of many other Sprite outposts, allowed trade to flourish between the Sprite kingdom and the kingdom of Dragonwall.
From Nilsa outpost, the villagers were escorted deeper into the forest. They traveled west for two days and reached the Sprite city of Ashvale. Ashvale was less expansive than Esterpine, but well-known for its ash trees, and more famously, the drink of enlightenment. From Ashvale, it was a four-day journey to Esterpine, mostly spent in awe of the forest. Jeanine did her best to learn snippets about the Sprite culture during that time, but she was still unprepared for the shock of seeing Esterpine. Since her arrival, she spent her days wandering around the strange wooded city with wide eyes and an insatiable curiosity.
She finished dressing and found Jahl waiting outside. "Follow me," was all he said before turning on his heel and walking away. She frowned after him then rushed to catch up. Something in him had changed after the attack, making his mood unpredictable. His parents, like her father, had perished. His mother had insisted on staying to ensure all the horses were put to good use. She never made it out of Kaljah in time. His father died protecting her, just before Jahl was forced to make his escape. Could she blame him for his unpredictable behavior and sour mood? Hardly. Yet, it required a great deal of patience on her end.
As they walked, she found her gaze frequently traveling upward. While the dwellings were on the forest floor, the Sprites took advantage of the forest's height too. A number of the trees had spiraling stairs, platforms, and rope bridges creating a network of passageways in the proverbial sky of blueish mist made up of ethereal glowing lights and twinkling light bugs. It almost felt as if they had stolen the heavens and transplanted them here.
A movement caught her eye. She turned and gasped. "Look, Jahl! Look there—" She pointed at a unicorn that had appeared, creeping onto the path from the foliage. She had seen a handful of them since arriving, mostly at mealtimes.
"Mmm. Impressive..." Jahl said. He did little more than glance in the direction of her pointing finger.
She sighed and left him to brood.
When they reached the crystal palace, she stopped short. No matter how many times she had seen it since arriving, she was always filled with the same awe. It was a place visited by invitation only, so she had been stuck admiring it from afar...until now.
Jahl led her up the palace's giant staircase to the large entrance doors. Because the stairs were made of crystal, one could see through them down to the forest floor beneath. It was unsettling. When they reached the guards, Jahl announced their purpose. The guards permitted them entry. All too soon, Jeanine found herself wide-eyed within the hall.
"It—it's beautiful!" She sighed heavily, reminded of Jahl's indifference when he said nothing. Well, if he didn't care, she wasn't going to let that drag her down. She took several paces away from him to bask.
Plush rugs lay under her bare feet, warming the feel of the grand, cathedral-like hall. Across from the entrance was an enormous throne atop a dais. A giant staircase carved into the wall circled around the perimeter, curling its way up to the top of the palace. Chutes from the staircase led to upper rooms.
"It's all one big hollow carving," she whispered, "but how is it possible?" She brought her gaze down.
"Greetings!" A Sprite appeared out of nowhere. "I am to escort you to the dining hall. The queen awaits. If you would follow me, please."
Jeanine and Jahl trailed after him in obvious wonder. They were led up the turning staircase; as it wrapped around, everything on the floor of the hall began to shrink in size. Jeanine's stomach jolted and she looked away, focusing on the transparent steps in front of her. "It's rather unsettling, isn't it?" She wasn't sure if Jahl heard her or not.
At last, they stopped at what must have been the fourth or fifth floor. There was really no telling, as doors were dispersed randomly all the way to the cavernous ceiling.
They followed their guide into a room with a large dining table. Like everything else, it was made of crystal and adorned with gold platters and dining ware. Their guide announced their entry then exited the room.
Once Jeanine had a moment to look around, she realized that there were three people sitting at the table. They stood to greet the newcomers. The woman at the head of the table was obviously the queen, but Jeanine was unsure about the other male and female in her presence.
"Good morning, Jeanine, Jahl." The queen's voice was rich and warm. It instantly calmed her nerves. "Welcome to the Crystal Palace, the brightest jewel of our forest. Please, come and take a seat."
She and Jahl followed the queen's request.
"I am Queen Jade. These are my children, the Princess and Prince of Esterpine, Taylynn, and Feowen. We are pleased to dine with you this morning."
Everyone took a seat. The queen motioned to the serving staff who rushed forward carrying covered platters. When they removed the covers, Jeanine found herself presented with a colorful assortment of fruits, nuts, and breads. She kept her frown hidden; she strongly disliked their diet.
Helping herself, she loaded her plate with various items, and they began to eat. The food was delicious, but how could one be sustained without a hearty helping of meat, milk, and cheese?
After a few minutes of quiet eating, the queen said, "Jeanine, I am told that you faced the Gobelins alone before our aid arrived. Is this true?"
Jeanine was unprepared for the question. Nodding, she swallowed her mouthful.
Jahl beat her to an answer. "It is true, Your Majesty, I myself had every intention of fleeing. Jeanine would not let me. She told me, and I quote, 'I will not die by a knife to the back. I will die fighting, and when I meet the gods, they will praise my valor.'"
Prince Feowen made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. Jeanine glanced at him. His eyes were on her, but they darted away to his mother. She studied his face; his expression was unreadable. His features were beautiful and delicate, with angular eyes of different colors, and a pointed chin. He was almost feline in appearance. His blue hair was the most shocking piece of his appearance.
"Such a worthy statement from one so young." The queen set down her dining utensils and looked up at them. "I am impressed by your valor, Jeanine."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Jeanine tried not to grin in favor of maintaining a serious countenance, but it was difficult after such praise.
"My warriors tell me," Queen Jade said, "that the both of you fought bravely until the Gobelins were driven back."
"They did, Mother. I saw it myself." Prince Feowen's voice was as musical as his mother's.
"You were there?" Jeanine's curiosity drove her to speak.
"I was. It was I who led the charge."
Jeanine's face burned. "I apologize. I got so caught up in the battle that I did not—"
"No need for apologies." Prince Feowen bowed his head then returned his attention to his food.
At length, the queen spoke again, "You are probably wondering why I have invited you both here this morning?" Her gaze was intent on Jeanine, though she addressed Jahl too. "There are two reasons. The first is to discuss leadership, and the second, how you might spend your time here."
Jeanine swallowed her food and tucked her hands in her lap. She was eager to make a good impression on Queen Jade and intended to give the queen her full attention.
"Did any of your village leadership survive?" Queen Jade asked.
Jeanine opened her mouth to speak—
"They did not." Everyone's eyes fell upon Princess Taylynn. Her voice was quiet, barely louder than a whisper, yet it held a strange power. It was as if Princess Taylynn's words permeated everything around them. As she spoke, Taylynn's eyes met Jeanine's, holding them. "Most of the survivors are children. There are a few mothers. A few males too—not worthy of leadership. As I have said, Mother,"—Taylynn's attention remained fixed on Jeanine—"it ought to be these two."
Jeanine's skin prickled. Something in Taylynn's gaze left her uneasy.
"You have seen this?" Queen Jade's question was addressed to Taylynn, who did not respond. Instead, Taylynn returned to her food. Jeanine watched the interaction and frowned.
Queen Jade gazed at her daughter until she was convinced there would be no answer. Something sad passed over her features as her eyes lingered on Taylynn before returning to Jeanine. "Well then," Queen Jade said, "are the two of you willing to accept such a responsibility? Will the villagers accept you?"
"They will." Jahl squared his shoulders. His voice seemed to diffuse some of the tension still lingering between Queen Jade and the princess.
"Very well. Kaljah's survivors will remain here, and you will answer for them. It may be some time yet before you can return home. Attacks continue along the eastern border."
Jeanine's eyes widened. "Our village was not the only one?"
Princess Taylynn spoke, quietly again, "Yours was not the only one. The Gobelins attacked many along the border. It is a coordinated attempt to undermine the Drengr monarchy."
Jeanine opened her mouth but could think of nothing to say. The room was quiet until Taylynn spoke again, "Our forces arrived in time to assist your village. We went no further. Our people do not like wandering too far from the forest."
Prince Feowen, not to be outdone by his sister, sat forward in his chair. "The Drengr have stepped in to drive the enemy back, but Gobelins are relentless creatures. Only death hinders their progress."
"That is why we have invited you to stay with us," Queen Jade said. "You are welcome to our city until the fighting is resolved, after which our guides will escort you home."
The more Jeanine saw of her, the more Queen Jade seemed to be a direct opposite of her overly serious daughter. "Thank you," Jeanine said. "I appreciate the offer. We will accept." Once again, Jeanine was caught off-guard by Queen Jade's kindness. The behavior defied the ideas put into to her head by her father, by history, by all the stories that made Sprites out to be cold, prideful beings...
"I hope the food is to your liking?" Princess Taylynn asked. Her voice was suddenly lighter, more jovial. The corner of her mouth twitched, otherwise her face was unyielding as stone.
Jeanine and Jahl glanced at each other briefly then nodded, afraid to say otherwise. Jeanine refused to offend them by asking for meat. After the look and lecture she'd gotten from the first Sprite back in Ashvale, she learned her lesson. Something told her that Taylynn knew the truth of this encounter.
"I have one last thing to add before we adjourn." Everyone looked at the queen with interest. "I had mentioned that we might discuss how you will spend your time here in Esterpine. The Sprites are great warriors in their own right. You both witnessed that on the battlefield. It was suggested that you might like to train with our warriors while you are here."
Jeanine caught Feowen's twinkling gaze. His expression was smug. She got the impression that it was he who had made the suggestion to his mother.
"Is this something that might interest you?" Queen Jade asked.
"Yes!" Both Jeanine and Jahl answered in unison.
"I told you," the prince said, turning to his sister who scowled back at him.
Jeanine's brow furrowed.
"My sister is not a fan of violence," Prince Feowen said. "She believed that you would not be interested. I disagreed. She did not see you on the battlefield as I did, so how could she know?"
Again, Jeanine felt her face grow hot with such praise. Something in Taylynn's expression hinted that the prince was behaving predictably—as if Taylynn had orchestrated this turn of events. Was there more to this offer than met the eye?
The queen clapped her hands together. "It is settled then. Our sparring grounds are open to you at any time. Please make use of them whilst you are here. You will find Master Orin, our weapons master, most helpful." As she spoke, the servants rushed forward to clear away the plates. "The three of us have some business to attend to," she eyed her son and daughter knowingly before smiling at Jeanine and Jahl. "I trust that you can find your way out of the palace whenever it pleases you. Stay as long as you like."
"Yes, thank you," Jeanine said. Jahl echoed the same sentiments.
With a brief farewell, the queen and her children departed. Soon they were alone. Jeanine looked at Jahl. He was staring openly at her. "What?" she asked. He shook his head. "Come on, what? You've been weird for days."
He grunted.
"Oh! Spit it out already. Why are you acting so oddly? Does the queen make you uncomfortable?"
"No."
"Then what? Why are you staring at me like that?"
"Because he was."
"He was? He—who?"
"The prince! Gods, Jeanine. Could you be more oblivious? The prince couldn't keep his eyes off you, could he?" With that, Jahl rose from his seat. "I've got something on my mind. I'll catch up with you later," he said before disappearing. She was left to consider his words alone.
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