The Crybaby and the Elf Part 4

Just as clarification, this is not my usual writing style, but I like it for these comedic stories.

The Crybaby and the Elf

(And also a really mean dragon)

Part 4

By

Hannah Williams

       

The forest was bright and young, golden sunlight lighting the small leaves like fireflies. Wailie tiptoed through the soft grass and fern, feeling for the first time in her life like mud on a marble floor. She peered into a glade surrounded by a circle of trees: three maples, a birch, and a great red pine. Then she saw the people sitting at the roots. Three had brownish skin, one had silver with skin, lined with dark streaks, and one had skin deeply toned with red. All had dark leafy hair and their clothing shimmered green. 
            Dryads.

            What is this, National Meet An Extraordinary Creature Week? she wondered.

            Amongst them sat Sharenth, speaking with them in his clipped speech. The dryads responded in rustling voices, except for the pine, whose deep voice matched his muscular form and firm gaze.

            Wailie stepped out, and the voices stilled.

            Staring in surprise, Sharenth leapt to his feet. “Wailie, what—”

            “—are you doing here?” the pine finished for him.

            All the dryads turned and stared at her, their bodies turning all the way around at the waist. She hugged herself nervously. “You didn’t come back when you said you would.” She murmured. “You left me.” Funny. It occurred to her that she had never become raging mad about or planned any berating speech. She just felt hurt.

            The hurt must have been clear on her face for Sharenth flinched and answered, “I’m sorry. I was—”

            “—busy with his task and you were safe,” droned the pine.

            Sharenth nodded, his eyes still wide in confusion. “That’s right. Sit down. Be silent.”

            She sat down, trying not to feel any more out of place than she so obviously was. At least he let her sit by him. And if he sounded rather abrupt, well, two words didn’t allow for much appreciation or politeness.

            Sharenth began again the conversation she’d interrupted. “How shall—”

            “—we defeat Fellfang?” the pine continued. “A difficult task. He was put under a spell last time by the Webwhispers, but there are none to do such a thing now.”

            “A what?” Wailie dared to whisper to the birch next to her.

            “A Webwhisper,” came the whisper back. “A people who could manipulate and control things with their voice alone. They all died in a curse by one of their kind some forty years ago.”

            “Oh.” Somehow, even though she had never heard of these creatures before, she felt a keen sadness at their loss.

            “Only by—” Sharenth began.

            The pine picked up. “—uniting together can we defeat this dragon. If we combine our abilities, we might have a chance. The dryads can cage the dragon in with trees and vines. The nyads can douse water on his flame. The elves can confuse him with their merry songs. We could use the trolls for their strength, though I don’t know how we’d keep them from eating…”

            “Aunt Agatha,” the elf interrupted.

            “Bless her, yes. If she’s there, all will be well. And the phoenixes can muddle him with their fire. And humans…well, er, what are humans good at?”

            “Killing,” a maple sneered.

            The princess gasped, her face turning red. “Why that’s a horrid thing to say!”

            “That was badly sad,” the birch reproved the maple. “If you do not know of a subject well, you should not speak of it.”

            “Nevertheless,” the pine said. “Man will likely do the slaying. Yes, I think it will work. It is a superior plan, Sharenth. Thank you for thinking of it.”

            Wailie’s mouth dropped open in surprise. But the elf had hardly said a word! Could it be that the dryad was reading the elf’s mind? 
            The pine stood. "Gather dryads and nyads. The survival of us all rides on this plan. Sharenth, bring back this word to the elves. We shall all make our stand in the fortress of King Rifolard the 10th. Now go."

            As the dryads scattered away, Sharenth and Wailbaby began to walk towards the stream. “How did…”

            “—I find you?” Wailie asked.

            He shook his head.

            “Oh. Um, travel all this way alone?”

            Frowning, he shook his head and began to write in the dirt.

            Wailie covered her eyes and waved him away. “No…not yet. Let me try again!” She bit her lip and stared hard at his perplexed face. Finally, she said, “How did I get away from Aunt Agatha?”

            A slight smile tilted up his mouth and he nodded.

            Delighted with herself, she forgot to answer the question until his smile dipped back into a frown. “Oh. Uh. I think she understood there was nothing she could do to stop me.”

            This answer seemed to perplex him, though she wasn’t sure way.

            As they passed the stream, Wailie inquired as to how the nyads would be transported to another place, and Sharenth had to stop and write down that they could travel in small sample of their water, even a glassful. Eventually, Wailie got the hint that she should stop asking so many questions as it would slow them down.

            Then, wonders of wonders, Sharenth led her into Eretheal Wood. I’m sorry that cannot tell you what it was like because elves won’t say and the only thing I ever got out of Wailie was, “Dazzling! Dazzling!”

            So it was that in only a few days’ time a host of elves, a swish of nyads, a whish of dryads, and whole herd of trolls lead by Aunt Agatha, with Skervarcalcosious flying overhead, marched into the kingdom of Zelray.

            Already the castle was fortified for battle in anticaptation of the dragon’s attack. Rifolard greeted them with great hospitality and kindness. Wailie was deeply impressed by the kingdom’s preparation, and she wondered if her parents were so militarily adept. It didn’t occur to her that the message warning of the dragon’s attack was gathering dust under her father’s throne.

            Ash of ages long past smothered the mountainside, sifting gently under the breath of the dragon. Fellfang stretched long and slow, licking his trident tongue over his scarred snout. His mind seemed caught in sticky tendrils like spider-silk, but with each moment he gained more awareness.

            Ah. Yes. Now he remembered.

            A Webwhisper had done this to him, felling him into long sleep and vivid nightmares of revenge. He sniffed deep and frowned. There was not a scent of Webwhisper to be smelled, not for leagues around anyways. Well, he’d search for them later. For now, there was plenty else to burn.

            His wings cast a wicked shadow upon the ground as he took to the air, glorying in the rush of wind. For a long while, he simply soared, taking in the world that continued on for a hundred years without him.

            There. That castle. It hadn’t been there before. It hadn’t asked his permission if it could be built. It must burn!

            Before the reader becomes too anxious, I must inform them that the guards of Pluopia (for it was that castle Fellfang had sighted) saw the dragon coming and was able to inform the people to get into cover. Luckily, they had a bit of time to panic and act completely useless before Fellfang actually arrived, because he was still very sluggish with sleep. Everything made it down into the cellars and dungeons. There. Now you don’t have to be anxious with what I will say next.

            Fellfang burned the entire castle to the ground.

            Oh, it was good to be alive.

           

            Five weeks passed. Everyone in Zelray was becoming quite tense and ancy as they waited for the dragon’s attack. The elves were silent, the dryads retreated into the trees, the nyads started playing tricks on whoever came near the castle pond, the trolls began to fight, and the humans became downright grumpy.

            In these five weeks, Wailie truly strove to be a help. In her brief time away from home, she learned that being a spoiled brat really didn’t do her or anyone else any good. But the court still treated her with disdain, so she spent her time with the elves. No doubt they also helped her change her attitude, because it is very unwise to act like a spoiled brat around elves. Day by day, she admired Sharenth more and she tried to show off her new knowledge of botany every chance she got.

            “Look! It’s a Rowanidon Macoillum!”

            He sighed. “Rhododendrum Macrophyllum.”

            “Oh.” Her ears turned red. “Right.”

            She slipped back into his shadow as he wandered down the hall and tried to repress a sigh of her own. Was…he annoyed with her? Did he not like her? Well, of course, he must not have liked her at first, but couldn’t he see how hard she was trying to please him?

            Another elf joined Sharenth and began speaking to him in elvish, so she decided to fall further and further behind. Eventually, they disappeared around a corner and their voices vanished. She stood there alone in the middle of the hall, feeling very sorry for herself. A bad case of unrequited love, she thought, borrowing the phrase from one of the troll’s books. That’s what I’ve got. I wonder if there’s a cure.

            At that moment, a door opened and a sharp voice said, “Hey! What are you doing, skulking around here?”

            Princess Colletiatessa.

            Her good will towards Wailie had not improved with the already tense air in the castle. Before we are too quick to judge her, we must remember Wailie was the cause of Colletiatessa’s mother being kidnapped. “What are you planning next?” she growled. “An assassination?”

            “Never!” Wailie gasped.

            “Why not? I hear they pay well and money is all you really care about, isn’t it?”

            “I—” Before she protested, she recalled her greedy dreams and her voice dropped. “I…I’m changing. That’s not what I want anymore.”

            A glimmer of surprise and even softness flicked through Colletiatessa’s eyes, but then an idea suddenly sparked in her eyes like a flash-bang. “Oh. Yes, that’s right. You want Sharenth. Poor guy. Can’t even turn around without you there, all moony and Miss Know-It-All.”

            “You take that back, Princess Colletiatessa!!!” Wailie shouted, furious.

            “Make me!”

            They glared flaming daggers at each other, ready to pull hair.  
         

            And then the dragon came.

  To be Continued...