RE: Sublime Showdown (Round 1: Faerie)
06-30-2013, 07:17 AM
The forest was blacker than any she had ever seen, and the trees grew taller than any she had ever seen. They grew uncomfortably close and seemed to be getting closer by the second. Mariel could barely see. She tripped on a root. How could she be expected to fight a battle to the death if she couldn’t get out of this bloody forest? Attempts to cut away shrubs came to miserable failure. A stop sign is not a machete.
“You’re silly.” A voice, high and shrill, came from above her. Mariel bristled.
“Come down from there, child.”
The visitor giggled. “I bet I’m older than you.”
“You will fall and hurt yourself.” Mariel looked up, but didn’t see anyone.
“Nuh uh. I never fall. How old are you?”
“I was created by the Lord Almighty, in the time before Adam and in the time before He gave life to all the creatures of the earth.” She still didn’t see anyone.
“You are silly.” She giggled and some leaves rustled above Mariel’s head. The child suddenly appeared in front of her, slim with pointed features and oddly-colored skin. She appeared to be wearing clothing made of leaves. “I’m Caspia. And I’m twelve thousand years old.” She studied Mariel’s face intently.
“Show me the way out of this forest, child.”
“I’m not a child! I’m Caspia!”
“Show me the way then, Caspia.” Mariel shouldered her stop sign.
Caspia disappeared into the undergrowth. When Mariel did not follow, she stuck her head out and giggled. “Aren’t you coming, silly?”
It was a long time coming out of that forest, with Mariel making slow progress, struggling to keep the bushes back and walk at the same time. Occasionally Caspia would disappear up a tree, and Mariel would have no choice but to wait for her to remember that Mariel was incapable of climbing trees. When they did break out of the forest, however, the view was breathtaking (although Mariel didn’t have any breath to take). A cliff dropped away suddenly to reveal the city. Although the light coming off it was blinding, she could barely make out immense spiral towers and busy black specks swarming around them. It was nighttime, but that only served to make the city even more blinding by juxtaposition. Her eyes barely adjusted in time to watch Caspia disappear over the cliff face. Mariel sighed and made to sit down, but Caspia’s face reappeared moments later, grinning.
“Just kidding,” she said, giggling.
They went down a ramp carved into the side of the mountain, which Caspia explained was for trade caravans, too big and clumsy to go down the cliff. “Just like you,” she had said with a grin.
At the foot of the cliff, the light of the city was once again blocked out by heavy tree cover. This time, however, there was a broad dirt path that wound through the forest, serpentine and lazy. Huge stone carvings guarded the road, grotesques and gargoyles worn by age and moss and bearing an uncomfortable resemblance to herself, minus the holy beauty and bird shit. They were obviously not intelligently designed.
The entrance to the city was marked by an enormous archway made from two trees bent together, their branches entwined where they met to form the top of the arch. There seemed to be no guards and no way to keep out unwanted guests.
The inside of the city was considerably darker than Mariel had expected. The dim wooden streetlamps were the only light source. An old hunchback pulling a wagon gave her a mistrustful four-eyed glare and hurried on his way, but elsewise they seemed to be alone. The buildings were brick and stone, run-down and covered in long sheets of ivy. Most were only one story. There were no spiral towers in sight, either.
When she asked Caspia about it, all she did was giggle and say “You’re silly.”
Frantic circus music filled the street. Someone capered madly down the street, doing cartwheels and staggering about drunkenly. When he saw them, he made a mocking little bow, and suddenly Mariel found his face inches from her own. He had no eyelids and his grin seemed much too huge for his tiny and unsettlingly evenly-sized teeth.
“Good evening,” he said. Mariel stumbled backwards and readied her stop sign for a swing. “Truly sorry if I have offended m’lady,” he said, tipping his hat. Underneath was a miniature orchestra, growing from his scalp. As she watched, the pianist made a little flourish with his hands. They bowed, and there was frenzied applause. The man cupped his hands together and opened them to reveal a tiny audience, their hands ablur.
Mariel lowered the stop sign. “I have no stomach for your magician’s tricks,” she said, even though her innards were not quite existent.
“Truly sorry,” said the man, settling his hat back onto his head and putting his hands in his pockets. His grin did not fade. “Where will m’lady go from here?”
“Wherever my Lord bids me,” she said.
“Your lord?” Caspia giggled. “Are you a slave?”
“No. A servant.” She felt sick. “Show me to the nearest church. I must pray.”
“Pray? What’s that?” Caspia turned to the man. “Mad Ergot, what’s a pray?”
“A prey, m’dear,” said Mad Ergot, “is the victim of a predator.”
Caspia giggled. “Not that kind of pray, silly.”
“When I pray, I pay homage to my God,” said Mariel.
Mad Ergot burst into laughter, slapping his knees and gnashing his teeth. Caspia giggled.
Mariel fumed. “What’s so funny?”
“You really are silly,” said Caspia.
Mad Ergot returned to his full composure as suddenly as he had lost it. “What dear Caspia is trying to say, m’lady, is that you have much to learn.”
“What? What do I have to learn?”
Mad Ergot paused. “I’m afraid there’s no putting it gently. Your gods have no use here in Faerie. There’s no two ways about it. We are our own gods here.”
“Heresy,” said Mariel. Caspia giggled.
Mad Ergot reached a hand towards her. What he meant to do was never clear. Mariel swung the stop sign and the head caught him in the wrist, biting deep into the flesh. She could feel bones cracking. Caspia’s giggles turned to screams as Mad Ergot jerked back.
“Iron,” he gasped. “You brought your cold iron into Faerie.” The flesh around the wound sizzled. Mad Ergot dropped to his knees. He had the look of someone who has just realized his own mortality for the first time. His hand fell off, blackening and shriveling. “You’ve killed me.”
Caspia turned and ran, giving Mariel one last look of fear and hate. Mariel could not look away from Mad Ergot, where he began to crawl away, into the shadows. “Iron,” he said. “Cold iron…”
I will show them the light, Mariel swore to herself. God willing, I will show them the light. Pray that I will succeed as Jonah did.
“You’re silly.” A voice, high and shrill, came from above her. Mariel bristled.
“Come down from there, child.”
The visitor giggled. “I bet I’m older than you.”
“You will fall and hurt yourself.” Mariel looked up, but didn’t see anyone.
“Nuh uh. I never fall. How old are you?”
“I was created by the Lord Almighty, in the time before Adam and in the time before He gave life to all the creatures of the earth.” She still didn’t see anyone.
“You are silly.” She giggled and some leaves rustled above Mariel’s head. The child suddenly appeared in front of her, slim with pointed features and oddly-colored skin. She appeared to be wearing clothing made of leaves. “I’m Caspia. And I’m twelve thousand years old.” She studied Mariel’s face intently.
“Show me the way out of this forest, child.”
“I’m not a child! I’m Caspia!”
“Show me the way then, Caspia.” Mariel shouldered her stop sign.
Caspia disappeared into the undergrowth. When Mariel did not follow, she stuck her head out and giggled. “Aren’t you coming, silly?”
It was a long time coming out of that forest, with Mariel making slow progress, struggling to keep the bushes back and walk at the same time. Occasionally Caspia would disappear up a tree, and Mariel would have no choice but to wait for her to remember that Mariel was incapable of climbing trees. When they did break out of the forest, however, the view was breathtaking (although Mariel didn’t have any breath to take). A cliff dropped away suddenly to reveal the city. Although the light coming off it was blinding, she could barely make out immense spiral towers and busy black specks swarming around them. It was nighttime, but that only served to make the city even more blinding by juxtaposition. Her eyes barely adjusted in time to watch Caspia disappear over the cliff face. Mariel sighed and made to sit down, but Caspia’s face reappeared moments later, grinning.
“Just kidding,” she said, giggling.
They went down a ramp carved into the side of the mountain, which Caspia explained was for trade caravans, too big and clumsy to go down the cliff. “Just like you,” she had said with a grin.
At the foot of the cliff, the light of the city was once again blocked out by heavy tree cover. This time, however, there was a broad dirt path that wound through the forest, serpentine and lazy. Huge stone carvings guarded the road, grotesques and gargoyles worn by age and moss and bearing an uncomfortable resemblance to herself, minus the holy beauty and bird shit. They were obviously not intelligently designed.
The entrance to the city was marked by an enormous archway made from two trees bent together, their branches entwined where they met to form the top of the arch. There seemed to be no guards and no way to keep out unwanted guests.
The inside of the city was considerably darker than Mariel had expected. The dim wooden streetlamps were the only light source. An old hunchback pulling a wagon gave her a mistrustful four-eyed glare and hurried on his way, but elsewise they seemed to be alone. The buildings were brick and stone, run-down and covered in long sheets of ivy. Most were only one story. There were no spiral towers in sight, either.
When she asked Caspia about it, all she did was giggle and say “You’re silly.”
Frantic circus music filled the street. Someone capered madly down the street, doing cartwheels and staggering about drunkenly. When he saw them, he made a mocking little bow, and suddenly Mariel found his face inches from her own. He had no eyelids and his grin seemed much too huge for his tiny and unsettlingly evenly-sized teeth.
“Good evening,” he said. Mariel stumbled backwards and readied her stop sign for a swing. “Truly sorry if I have offended m’lady,” he said, tipping his hat. Underneath was a miniature orchestra, growing from his scalp. As she watched, the pianist made a little flourish with his hands. They bowed, and there was frenzied applause. The man cupped his hands together and opened them to reveal a tiny audience, their hands ablur.
Mariel lowered the stop sign. “I have no stomach for your magician’s tricks,” she said, even though her innards were not quite existent.
“Truly sorry,” said the man, settling his hat back onto his head and putting his hands in his pockets. His grin did not fade. “Where will m’lady go from here?”
“Wherever my Lord bids me,” she said.
“Your lord?” Caspia giggled. “Are you a slave?”
“No. A servant.” She felt sick. “Show me to the nearest church. I must pray.”
“Pray? What’s that?” Caspia turned to the man. “Mad Ergot, what’s a pray?”
“A prey, m’dear,” said Mad Ergot, “is the victim of a predator.”
Caspia giggled. “Not that kind of pray, silly.”
“When I pray, I pay homage to my God,” said Mariel.
Mad Ergot burst into laughter, slapping his knees and gnashing his teeth. Caspia giggled.
Mariel fumed. “What’s so funny?”
“You really are silly,” said Caspia.
Mad Ergot returned to his full composure as suddenly as he had lost it. “What dear Caspia is trying to say, m’lady, is that you have much to learn.”
“What? What do I have to learn?”
Mad Ergot paused. “I’m afraid there’s no putting it gently. Your gods have no use here in Faerie. There’s no two ways about it. We are our own gods here.”
“Heresy,” said Mariel. Caspia giggled.
Mad Ergot reached a hand towards her. What he meant to do was never clear. Mariel swung the stop sign and the head caught him in the wrist, biting deep into the flesh. She could feel bones cracking. Caspia’s giggles turned to screams as Mad Ergot jerked back.
“Iron,” he gasped. “You brought your cold iron into Faerie.” The flesh around the wound sizzled. Mad Ergot dropped to his knees. He had the look of someone who has just realized his own mortality for the first time. His hand fell off, blackening and shriveling. “You’ve killed me.”
Caspia turned and ran, giving Mariel one last look of fear and hate. Mariel could not look away from Mad Ergot, where he began to crawl away, into the shadows. “Iron,” he said. “Cold iron…”
I will show them the light, Mariel swore to herself. God willing, I will show them the light. Pray that I will succeed as Jonah did.