2. The Traum Woods (I)

“From what I can recall, the Traum Woods was shrouded in a dense fog, thick, and turbid with ancient theurgy. I could feel it like pinpricks along my skin; the mingling of my magic with the unknown…”

The air carried a heavy, herbaceous scent, which was caught and condensed by the surrounding mist. The groaning trees observed the trio as they quietly made their way through the neglected path, overgrown with slippery moss and twisting vines of violet and deep green.

“I can’t see shit,” Avery muttered, on edge—backsword armed. “Are you certain it’s here?”

“Definitely,” said Sachie, confident. She walked slowly, knees bent, hunting knife at the ready. “Mostly,” she amended under her breath.

“Never thought I’d end up here. Celestial beings occupy these woods, allegedly,” Avery said, eyeing the looming trees overhead. “Heard they’re aggressive.”

Birger grimaced as if the concept of celestial beings was unfathomable yet frightening. “Where exactly,” he whispered, desperate to change the subject, “is this place?” He followed Sachie and Avery as they snaked around crumbled pillars and the sun-bleached fragments of buildings lost to time. The silence and dense mist only added to the eeriness; the woods felt simultaneously vast and cramped. Birger gripped his sword and secured his shield—chest tight.

Sachie hummed. “Hmm, well, the mace is in some sort of…temple.”

“Temple. Ugh, where? Where, Sachie? This place has been raaaavaged!” Avery said, emphasizing with his pinched fingertips and then spinning around. Birger snickered at his theatrics, but a rustle in the treetops made the two men look up, only to see the canopy and the pale blue sky. That alone was enough to spook them. Avery shivered and brushed his fringe away from his eyes. “We shouldn't stay long.”

“Agreed,” Birger said. “Sachie, let’s find this temple quickly. What does it look like?”

“How should I know? I heard about the mace from one of the sailors back home, and he heard it while in the port of Galma. It’s a story. A rather vague one at that. He mentioned the Traum Woods, a temple, an archway…” She allowed her words to trail off and grinned, sheepish.

Birger and Avery froze, then regarded one another, their shoulders slumping.

“You don’t even know if it’s real?” Avery asked with a sour frown.

Sachie looked at Birger for backup, but the knight huffed and turned away. She sighed. “I didn’t say that. Besides, we’re already here. Let’s just make the best of it. C’mon then.”

“Great,” Avery muttered, followed by a slew of Tatran insults. “Just wh—” He stepped forward, felt something clutch his ankle, and was then violently flung into the sky. Sachie and Birger were impressed with the speed and height at which he ascended. Screaming, the mage fell, limbs flailing, but right before he landed Birger dropped his sword and shield, ran, and ungracefully caught him, resulting in the two tumbling forward.

Sachie watched as the two men groaned and untangled themselves from one another.

“You’re heavy,” Birger growled, holding his ribs.

Avery’s cape had flipped over his head. “Excuse me?” He flipped it back with an angry flick of his hand. “You didn’t have to catch me.”

“Thought I’d test my strength, but damn,” said Birger—the mage’s ridiculous hat resting on his head.

Avery inhaled, sharp, his face flush with embarrassment as he snatched his hat.

“Um…” Sachie hurried over to them, knife ready. “Get up. Now.”

Avery frowned up at her. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I thought I saw something. Birger, go grab your sword.”

The knight stood, slowly, palms on his lower back. “I don’t see anything.”

“Will you just go grab your sword, please!”

He smacked his lips, and lumbered over to retrieve it, but as he bent…the weapon levitated, leveling with his knees. He paused, watching. “My sword is moving on its own,” he said, brows furrowed with confusion.

“What?” Sachie leaned to look, eyes widening at the spectacle. “Uh…”

Avery was busy pulling leaves out of his braid. “Ugh. This is ridiculous, we should le—”

Sachie grabbed Avery by the back of his cape and hauled him up. “Where’s your sword?”

He wrestled out of her hold. “I don’t know. How are you so strong, being so small?”

“Tatran! Quick, use your magic!” Birger barked, slowly backing away from his hovering weapon.

Avery’s attention focused on the knight ahead of him. “Oooh! Call me Tatran one more time—I have a name!”

Sachie held her head. “Will you two shut up!”

“Ugh, here.” Avery tucked his hand into a hidden pocket and haughtily walked some paces forward—shoving past Birger. He threw a handful of sparkling powder at the hilt of the sword, and the form of a small body materialized, hunched and quietly coughing. Avery snorted. “All this fuss over a child.”

The figure stopped coughing and looked up at him, revealing a face consisting of a forehead that extended downwards with coarse gray skin covering eyes—if there had been any—and ending with a small nose and wide mouth. Avery backed up and gasped.

The small creature released the sword; it landed tip-first, piercing the soft ground with an innocuous thump.

“I—” Avery continued backing up until he bumped into Birger, the heat and size of him a comfort. “I—I don’t know what that is…”

The figure titled its head and then grew. Taller and wider and taller and wider, all with a grotesque orchestra of cracking bones and popping joints and uncomfortable snarls, until it towered near five meters tall, all lean muscle composed of visible tendons.

The three didn’t budge, didn’t speak, didn’t breathe.

A twig snapped, and the creature lurched forward as four glimmering wings emerged and fanned out, its body radiant and potent with a crushing aura. It roared, bending trees. Its breath was a hot surge, nearly knocking everything down. It paused, sizing them up—unimpressed. The three took the brief calm as an opportunity, and scattered, sprinting in different directions, with little concern for one another.