There’s dissent in the ranks after all

As Lux steps out from the shelter of the glade, she begins to appreciate the scale of what’s happening. Half-hidden in the mist among the trees, she can see Sylvia’s army forming its mismatched ranks: big and small, intimidating and almost comical, the many forms of the fey have amassed – uneasily in some cases – for battle. The giant shapes of treants loom, while tiny pixies dance through the air, bows and sword glittering with the same shining dust as the lance tucked away in Lux’s possession. She wonders if they’d be upset to know she has it.

“If you wouldn’t mind ranging ahead,” Sylvia says to Lux and Gill, “we’ll be making our way down. Be assured that we will get the enemy’s attention. When the time comes, I’ll find you.”

Stepping forward alongside her mother, Juniper passes something to Gill – a stout club that Lux suspects is more than a simple piece of wood. “I hope I can count on you to do some damage with this,” she says.

Gill looks a bit doubtfully at the weapon in his hands, but he nods. “I hope it won’t come to that with my own neighbours,” he says, “but there’s a snake out there I’ve a score to settle with.”

The dryads move away to join their own forces. Lux looks at her companions for this leg of the journey – Gill, looking less than sure of himself in this alien and supernatural world, but he sets his jaw with determination none the less. And Minn, hovering overhead, gazing wistfully at Lux’s chest.

With Minn lighting the way ahead, they begin picking their way through the misty woods. Their assorted allies fade into the gloom, though they still catch the occasional glimpse of someone or something keeping pace with them. Well, both swift wings and long legs give an advantage for clearing this kind of terrain – Lux and Gill still have to take care with the dense vegetation that grows up everywhere here.

The mist makes Lux almost paranoid about what she can’t see; if her allies can move almost unseen, her enemies can likely do the same. But it’s a sound that first warns her of trouble approaching.

It starts with a loud creaking that makes Lux and Gill freeze in place, suddenly alert. Then the fog parts to reveal a trio of towering shapes that loom into view from different directions around them, pushing aside the small saplings to make room for their own giant bodies. Treants; and though it’s hard to be sure, Lux thinks she recognises one of them from back at the glade.

“Shouldn’t you be…somewhere else?” she asks, doubtfully, hand on her weapon. Gill glances around at the creatures now surrounding them, keeping his club ready.

“Nay, small mortal,” the lead treant intones, its voice the deep groan of ancient timbers. “We have measured and chosen our path. Though it pains us, we have come for you.”

Lux narrows her eyes. You and what army? seems like a question with an obvious answer.

“Long did our Queen languish in her prison,” the treant’s deep voice rumbles regretfully. “Her judgement, I fear, is weakened – and now have you mortals led her astray. You, we shall take unto the Erlking as an offering, there to prevail upon his good grace to make all well.”

Lux stares at the creature in disbelief. “You fucking idiot,” is the best comeback she can finally arrive at.

Fallen branches crack and crumble as the leaden steps of the treants draw closer. Clearly, they are not impressed.