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Chasing the Wind Page 3
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nearby tree limb.
"Levitair!" she chanted. In a second, her staff was in her hand. She did it!
"Well, I'll be," Phoebe said. "With proper training you could be better at wind spells than I am. A master even!"
"Teach me an offensive spell!" Marian demanded. The success of her first spell was exhilarating. "Teach me that slashing spell."
Phoebe laughed a boisterous guffaw that made Marian feel very stupid.
"You may have the makings of a master mage. But you are still a novice, and a child at that. Even in the guild they don't teach beginners offensive magic."
"But—"
"Your mother wouldn’t allow you to do dangerous offensive spells, would she?" Phoebe said in an attempt to reason with Marian who looked like she was ready to Levitair rocks at her. "It would be unwise to—"
"My mother?” Marian said, her lips twisting in a mock smile. “My mother had a lovely habit of carrying me to the Animari Wilds while I slept and leaving me there with nothing but a small knife. And after I stopped sleeping in the house, she developed an even lovelier obsession of spicing my meals with sleeping grains. Each time I woke up, I'd be in the Animari again!" she said, getting all the words out in one breath. She never did understand why her mother was like that. She eventually reasoned her mother was just a few spells short in the head. And it upset her having to talk about it.
Phoebe didn't know what to say and so for awhile they just sat there in silence. Marian was relieved Phoebe didn't ask more about her demented family. She found it hard to explain why things at home are the way they are: her mother and her misguided affection, and her father who was simply misguided—who her mother said, ‘ran off with a nymph’. If she tried, she might sound pathetic and Phoebe might pity her deplorable condition.
Marian hated being fed pity. She associated pity to what she felt for a dying slug she once saw in the Slums. That slug was not going anywhere. It had no future. And Marian? She might not be swimming in gotts but she was no slug.
"Icarsus Ptero!" Phoebe chanted, floating gracefully off the forest floor. “Come on, Marian. We’ll harvest putrid mushrooms. I'll teach you Icarsus. It's not an offensive spell but it is useful and quite fun,"
It took hours before they finally found the putrid mushrooms because Marian tried and tried Icarsus till she was tired and bruised from not landing properly and from uncontrollably slamming herself to tree arms and thorny thickets.
The putrid mushrooms which were used for lesser healing potions sprouted from the trunks of dead Narwood trees. Picking the mushrooms was easy. Getting around the fang grass was an entirely different matter. The luscious grassland created an illusory green sea with the scattered dead trees looking like little islands. Creatures would often be lured by this seemingly safe grazing only to be consumed by the very sea of grass themselves.
"Perfect. Fang grass. I forgot there’s a colony of them here," Marian said, now remembering one of the times her mother left her in the Animari. She witnessed the sea of grass devour a griffin in seconds; it made her wise enough to find a different route home.
“Ah, I’ve heard about them. They are supposed to be voracious flesh eaters. They don’t look so intimidating in books, I’ll tell you that. In fact, they look funny, like green soldier ants with long leaf hats,” Phoebe said.
They heard the roaring sound of crashing trees from a distance. “That can’t be good,” Marian said, her instincts wired up.
"Probably just reckless mages,” Phoebe said, unperturbed. She chanted an Icarsus. “Well? Are you going to help me or not?" she added as she landed neatly on a fallen tree, quickly pulling mushrooms off.
"Nope. Not for all the putrid shrooms in the whole Animari," Marian said. It would be great if she could harvest the mushrooms. She can use the money for the guild. But she didn't have confidence on her Icarsus just yet. She'd rather be a poor mage than a dead one.
“What happened to the brave little mage who will risk everything?”
“Right. Brave. Not careless. I’d rather know the limitations of the spell first,”
"That, you’ll learn while doing it. Now don’t be such a coward and just say the spell like I taught you,” Phoebe said.
“And if the spell fails and I fall in! Can you prevent that?” Marian said, making sure.
“I’ll try,” Phoebe said with a lopsided grin on her face.
“In that case, I’ll just stay here,” Marian said, sitting on the unusually leveled ground. The forest floor was mushy with decomposing leaves but near the fang grass it was harder and dry with fewer trees and moss. But the soil where Marian sat was strangely flat as if pressed down by weight.
Footprints, she realized. She just noticed it but there were more of the prints coming from the south. The last footprint ended near the fang grass. “Phoebe, do you recognize these footprints? I’ve never seen them before in the Animari.”
“What does it look like?” Phoebe said, not bothering to look up. She just continued with her task.
“Human-like. Huge. I’m sitting on one,” Marian said, anxiously. She stood up. The distant commotion was coming closer and closer.
This got Phoebe’s attention. Human-like? Giants didn’t frequent the Eastern Animari. They were content on their own land in the west. They had humongous footprints but this one was much smaller. Smaller than an ogre’s even.
“Not from giants and not from ogres too. No worries. Besides whatever it was most probably got done in by the fang grass. You’re familiar with the Animari creatures, ‘know any that could make that track?” Phoebe said.
“Not dangerous ones, only the Narwoods and their prints are different, more tree-like than human,” Marian said.
But before she could think of other creatures, the nearby trees fell with a crashing sound, creating a clearing where two full grown ogres stood. They looked menacing, one bigger than the other. The shorter one stood at about twice the height of an ordinary man. They were both very ugly specimens of their kind. Like a typical ogre they both had enormous bulging noses, small beady eyes, and two ears that extended like torches on the sides of their faces. The ogres with their huge appetite prefer to hunt big meaty game in the Hunting Grounds. They have weak eyes so they don’t bother with small prey like humans…most of the times. However, some ‘accidents’ have been known to happen to humans who were unfortunately faced with an irate ogre.
This was a big problem. Wind spells did little damage against an ogre’s big bulk. It would take a small group of capable wind mages to deal with one ogre. Phoebe can’t take on a full grown ogre—and now she has to deal with two of them!
“Ogres. What are they doing away from the Hunting Grounds?” Phoebe whispered, trying to make as little sound as possible.
The bigger ogre, the female, growled, catching Phoebe’s voice: disproportionate to their eyes, ogres have very good hearing.
“Icarsus, Marian. Do it,” Phoebe hissed between her teeth. In this situation, their only refuge were the dead trees in the middle of the fang grass.
The ogress grunted to the ogre. They sniffed the air for something: as if in sync, their eyes both fell on Marian.
Marian dared not move now. The ogres were acting weird, almost as if they were looking for something.
“The footprints! They are looking for a little ogre!” Phoebe said, no longer trying to keep her voice down, “Marian! They think you did something to their offspring!”
Marian who was used to the dangers of the Animari had never encountered an ogre before. She had little defense and so when in the Animari she would usually go about carefully and would instinctively run to safety. But now, Marian was caught off guard in the wrong place at the wrong time: she was trapped between bad-tempered ogres and a colony of fang grass. If she runs on the ground, chances are, the ogres will catch her—and eat her—probably smash her around first. If she takes to the air and dare the fang grass, chances are she will fail—and the devious critters will ravenously dispose of her.
Before Marian could think, the ogres stomped forward. Their livid eyes narrowed on her, ignoring Phoebe.
“Dwirian!” Phoebe chanted and an almost visible gust of wind exploded from her. What was meant to hurl a human-sized opponent clear off the ground only made the huge ogre stumble back. He regained his footing soon enough and without second thoughts charged towards Phoebe.
The fang grass undulated the moment the ogre stepped foot on the colony. Furious green swirls of ants nipped at the ogre’s toe till it was nothing but bone. The colony covered the ogre up to his thighs now.
Marian scrunched her eyes as the agonizing growl of the ogre was drowned by the crunching, gnawing, and nipping sound of the fang grass critters. Phoebe looked on as the fang grass devoured the ogre to the bone, until eventually even those were completely consumed by the hungry pack. The little ant-like critters consumed a full grown ogre in a matter of seconds. The colony thinned out again, spreading around their territory; now back to its deceitful serene appearance.
Now, ogres were typically a dim-witted bunch, but even stupid ogres would grow some sense if presented with a deadly demonstration. The ogress who watched the entire time her mate got eaten alive was now wise enough to know the dangers of the grass critters. She groaned a horrible strangling sound. The ogress brandished a huge trunk-sized branch and swung it like a club at Marian.
“Marian! Do
"Levitair!" she chanted. In a second, her staff was in her hand. She did it!
"Well, I'll be," Phoebe said. "With proper training you could be better at wind spells than I am. A master even!"
"Teach me an offensive spell!" Marian demanded. The success of her first spell was exhilarating. "Teach me that slashing spell."
Phoebe laughed a boisterous guffaw that made Marian feel very stupid.
"You may have the makings of a master mage. But you are still a novice, and a child at that. Even in the guild they don't teach beginners offensive magic."
"But—"
"Your mother wouldn’t allow you to do dangerous offensive spells, would she?" Phoebe said in an attempt to reason with Marian who looked like she was ready to Levitair rocks at her. "It would be unwise to—"
"My mother?” Marian said, her lips twisting in a mock smile. “My mother had a lovely habit of carrying me to the Animari Wilds while I slept and leaving me there with nothing but a small knife. And after I stopped sleeping in the house, she developed an even lovelier obsession of spicing my meals with sleeping grains. Each time I woke up, I'd be in the Animari again!" she said, getting all the words out in one breath. She never did understand why her mother was like that. She eventually reasoned her mother was just a few spells short in the head. And it upset her having to talk about it.
Phoebe didn't know what to say and so for awhile they just sat there in silence. Marian was relieved Phoebe didn't ask more about her demented family. She found it hard to explain why things at home are the way they are: her mother and her misguided affection, and her father who was simply misguided—who her mother said, ‘ran off with a nymph’. If she tried, she might sound pathetic and Phoebe might pity her deplorable condition.
Marian hated being fed pity. She associated pity to what she felt for a dying slug she once saw in the Slums. That slug was not going anywhere. It had no future. And Marian? She might not be swimming in gotts but she was no slug.
"Icarsus Ptero!" Phoebe chanted, floating gracefully off the forest floor. “Come on, Marian. We’ll harvest putrid mushrooms. I'll teach you Icarsus. It's not an offensive spell but it is useful and quite fun,"
It took hours before they finally found the putrid mushrooms because Marian tried and tried Icarsus till she was tired and bruised from not landing properly and from uncontrollably slamming herself to tree arms and thorny thickets.
The putrid mushrooms which were used for lesser healing potions sprouted from the trunks of dead Narwood trees. Picking the mushrooms was easy. Getting around the fang grass was an entirely different matter. The luscious grassland created an illusory green sea with the scattered dead trees looking like little islands. Creatures would often be lured by this seemingly safe grazing only to be consumed by the very sea of grass themselves.
"Perfect. Fang grass. I forgot there’s a colony of them here," Marian said, now remembering one of the times her mother left her in the Animari. She witnessed the sea of grass devour a griffin in seconds; it made her wise enough to find a different route home.
“Ah, I’ve heard about them. They are supposed to be voracious flesh eaters. They don’t look so intimidating in books, I’ll tell you that. In fact, they look funny, like green soldier ants with long leaf hats,” Phoebe said.
They heard the roaring sound of crashing trees from a distance. “That can’t be good,” Marian said, her instincts wired up.
"Probably just reckless mages,” Phoebe said, unperturbed. She chanted an Icarsus. “Well? Are you going to help me or not?" she added as she landed neatly on a fallen tree, quickly pulling mushrooms off.
"Nope. Not for all the putrid shrooms in the whole Animari," Marian said. It would be great if she could harvest the mushrooms. She can use the money for the guild. But she didn't have confidence on her Icarsus just yet. She'd rather be a poor mage than a dead one.
“What happened to the brave little mage who will risk everything?”
“Right. Brave. Not careless. I’d rather know the limitations of the spell first,”
"That, you’ll learn while doing it. Now don’t be such a coward and just say the spell like I taught you,” Phoebe said.
“And if the spell fails and I fall in! Can you prevent that?” Marian said, making sure.
“I’ll try,” Phoebe said with a lopsided grin on her face.
“In that case, I’ll just stay here,” Marian said, sitting on the unusually leveled ground. The forest floor was mushy with decomposing leaves but near the fang grass it was harder and dry with fewer trees and moss. But the soil where Marian sat was strangely flat as if pressed down by weight.
Footprints, she realized. She just noticed it but there were more of the prints coming from the south. The last footprint ended near the fang grass. “Phoebe, do you recognize these footprints? I’ve never seen them before in the Animari.”
“What does it look like?” Phoebe said, not bothering to look up. She just continued with her task.
“Human-like. Huge. I’m sitting on one,” Marian said, anxiously. She stood up. The distant commotion was coming closer and closer.
This got Phoebe’s attention. Human-like? Giants didn’t frequent the Eastern Animari. They were content on their own land in the west. They had humongous footprints but this one was much smaller. Smaller than an ogre’s even.
“Not from giants and not from ogres too. No worries. Besides whatever it was most probably got done in by the fang grass. You’re familiar with the Animari creatures, ‘know any that could make that track?” Phoebe said.
“Not dangerous ones, only the Narwoods and their prints are different, more tree-like than human,” Marian said.
But before she could think of other creatures, the nearby trees fell with a crashing sound, creating a clearing where two full grown ogres stood. They looked menacing, one bigger than the other. The shorter one stood at about twice the height of an ordinary man. They were both very ugly specimens of their kind. Like a typical ogre they both had enormous bulging noses, small beady eyes, and two ears that extended like torches on the sides of their faces. The ogres with their huge appetite prefer to hunt big meaty game in the Hunting Grounds. They have weak eyes so they don’t bother with small prey like humans…most of the times. However, some ‘accidents’ have been known to happen to humans who were unfortunately faced with an irate ogre.
This was a big problem. Wind spells did little damage against an ogre’s big bulk. It would take a small group of capable wind mages to deal with one ogre. Phoebe can’t take on a full grown ogre—and now she has to deal with two of them!
“Ogres. What are they doing away from the Hunting Grounds?” Phoebe whispered, trying to make as little sound as possible.
The bigger ogre, the female, growled, catching Phoebe’s voice: disproportionate to their eyes, ogres have very good hearing.
“Icarsus, Marian. Do it,” Phoebe hissed between her teeth. In this situation, their only refuge were the dead trees in the middle of the fang grass.
The ogress grunted to the ogre. They sniffed the air for something: as if in sync, their eyes both fell on Marian.
Marian dared not move now. The ogres were acting weird, almost as if they were looking for something.
“The footprints! They are looking for a little ogre!” Phoebe said, no longer trying to keep her voice down, “Marian! They think you did something to their offspring!”
Marian who was used to the dangers of the Animari had never encountered an ogre before. She had little defense and so when in the Animari she would usually go about carefully and would instinctively run to safety. But now, Marian was caught off guard in the wrong place at the wrong time: she was trapped between bad-tempered ogres and a colony of fang grass. If she runs on the ground, chances are, the ogres will catch her—and eat her—probably smash her around first. If she takes to the air and dare the fang grass, chances are she will fail—and the devious critters will ravenously dispose of her.
Before Marian could think, the ogres stomped forward. Their livid eyes narrowed on her, ignoring Phoebe.
“Dwirian!” Phoebe chanted and an almost visible gust of wind exploded from her. What was meant to hurl a human-sized opponent clear off the ground only made the huge ogre stumble back. He regained his footing soon enough and without second thoughts charged towards Phoebe.
The fang grass undulated the moment the ogre stepped foot on the colony. Furious green swirls of ants nipped at the ogre’s toe till it was nothing but bone. The colony covered the ogre up to his thighs now.
Marian scrunched her eyes as the agonizing growl of the ogre was drowned by the crunching, gnawing, and nipping sound of the fang grass critters. Phoebe looked on as the fang grass devoured the ogre to the bone, until eventually even those were completely consumed by the hungry pack. The little ant-like critters consumed a full grown ogre in a matter of seconds. The colony thinned out again, spreading around their territory; now back to its deceitful serene appearance.
Now, ogres were typically a dim-witted bunch, but even stupid ogres would grow some sense if presented with a deadly demonstration. The ogress who watched the entire time her mate got eaten alive was now wise enough to know the dangers of the grass critters. She groaned a horrible strangling sound. The ogress brandished a huge trunk-sized branch and swung it like a club at Marian.
“Marian! Do