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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2027846-Touch-of-Magic
Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #2027846
Fantasy contest entry
Fantasy contest
Touch of Magic prompt
Word count 1165

This is a slightly modified part of a story I started long ago. It is not the complete story. Given this, I hope it meets the parameters of the contest.

Rena surveyed the scene around her. Sighing wistfully as a cool breeze ruffled her short dark hair, she wondered curiously at the nostalgic feelings within her. She had never considered the small vale at the entrance to the ancient Keep of Stormguard a lovely place, but as she stood on a hill across from it, she marveled at its beauty.

The ground fell swiftly from where she stood, covered in thick green grass. Below her, the old Andhun Road ran to the south, its brown, weathered cobblestones covered now and again by grasses encroaching from the hills at its sides. West of the road, directly opposite her, a small vale opened. Surrounded by a broad sward of short, green saw grass at its entrance, the valley climbed quickly to a narrow rocky shelf above, squeezed between two massive shoulders of rock, children of the mountain home to Stormguard.

Many trees, both ancient and young, dotted the hills around her. In fact, legend placed the massive tree beside her here before the Shattering. That would make it well over 500 years old. Taking a step closer, she gently caressed the rugged browns and grays of its bark. “What secrets would you tell if you could speak, Old Man Oak?” she asked the tree quietly.

Smiling at herself, she sat slowly and leaned against the tree. Running her hands through grass dappled by sunshine and shade, she watched as small golden leaves fell lazily to the ground from the tree top above. Finches and Orioles flittered through the branches, thrilling her heart with their sweet song.

The sounds of battle reached her from beyond the road below. Turning her head to find the source, she smiled again as she watched two younglings struggle against one of the Undead that roamed in Stormguard’s shadow. The Bard had stunned the Skeleton with a blow to its head. He tried to swing around to its backside as the Druid cast a snare and prepared to strike from behind, but the Skeleton recovered too quickly. Lashing out almost immediately, it punched the young acolyte in the side of the head, knocking her unconscious. Jumping to the side as it turned, the Skeleton advanced on the now frightened young Bard. It was no contest. The young man was too scared to defend himself. Falling quickly, not far from his partner, the undead creature finished them off with its rusty sword.

Rena watched curiously as they died. Something was wrong here. She had been so happy, so serene, but…

As the undead creature returned to the top of the vale, her mood started to change. Strange, she almost felt melancholy now.

In fact, this listlessness seemed very unnatural. Fear grew in her as she struggled for coherent thought. Moving to the side, straining as if she were held by unseen bonds, Rena rolled to her hands and knees. Reaching out to brace herself against the tree, she forced herself to stand. Rena fought to clear her mind by leaning on the tree. “What, by Hentha’s Breath, is going on?” she gasped raggedly.

After a few moments, her head cleared, and Rena could stand alone. She looked around, cautiously eyeing the hillside. She was being watched. Rena had been a Ranger too long to mistake the feeling. Moving to a position of greater cover, she quietly drew her bow and notched an arrow. They had almost had her, whoever they were. No novice here; this touch of magic would not catch her easily. “Let them come,” she thought. “I will teach them the error of their ways.”

Standing very still, she waited and listened. It was now eerily quiet. No birds were singing; there was no breeze winding through the trees. The bodies of the younglings were gone, and the Undead no longer roamed the vale across from her. This was unnatural. The little hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on end. She did not know what was happening but wanted no part of it. Creeping around the tree, Rena headed north. Bennett’s Keep was less than a league up the old road. She knew there were stout men there. If it came to a fight, she had help close at hand.

As she worked stealthily along the slope, moving from cover to cover, Rena considered the events that had drawn her here. She had just returned from exploring the recently discovered land of Om’Vesaa. It had been arduous, but Rena had been restless upon her return. Feeling the walls of her dwelling closing in on her, she determined to walk a bit to relieve the stress. Before long, Rena found herself at the outer gates of Andhun. Shrugging slightly, she trotted through at a brisk pace. “As long as I have come this far,” she said as she passed by the guards, “I might as well take a run to Thayne’s Outpost. I haven’t seen Sighard in over a year. A pint of ale with an old friend might loosen me up.”

But she had stayed only a short time. She didn’t even go inside. A quick drink from the water barrel outside, and she was off again. Now that she looked back on it, it seemed she was under an enchantment. Everything after Thayne’s was fuzzy; her memory was incomplete. Rena was unsure when she had arrived at the hilltop across from Stormguard or how long she had been there. Anger started to replace her fear. She did not like being manipulated.

Coming out of the trees just south of Bennett’s Keep, Rena slowed to a halt. Where were the guards? Captain Alden would never leave the entrance to the Keep unguarded. Lord Bennett would never have allowed such lax behavior. There was something very sinister afoot. Rena knew she had to find out what she could and make a report to her guild leader. The King must know of this threat as soon as possible. Moving with care, her senses peaked, and she resumed her approach.

The Keep was tiny compared to other outland keeps in Amherst. Situated on a small flat of land not far from the high pass into the Forsaken Plains, it was surrounded by a narrow but deep moat and accessible by a single drawbridge. The bridge was down, but she could see no one. Closer now, she looked down the entrance tunnel and into the small courtyard beyond. It was empty and quiet. She wondered if she should go inside. She needed to know what had happened here. A moment later, Rena heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the north, just out of sight around the curve of the Keep. Drawing the bowstring tighter in preparation to shoot quickly if necessary, she moved toward the source of the noise.
© Copyright 2015 Averren (drkelley at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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