Curse of the Oak

Chapter Seventeen

Exactly three hours and five Frappuccino's later, Des had made it halfway into her second journal. Her eyes were on fire, burning with every word she read. Dried crackled tears crusted the corners of her eyes. She took another sip of her coffee, draining her sixth cup dry. She cast it aside, turning another page.

Des had learned so much information over the past hours. Her brain was absorbing the information, trying to organize everything in its own file. She even began taking down notes in her notebook, causing her hand to cramp on many occasions. There were so many things to remember. The first journal described the history of the hunters, following the events of Herne's death. It focused on King Richard's many attempts to keep the creatures at bay. But no matter the number of forces, some creatures would venture outside the forest bounds and kill.

Eventually, it lead to King Richard's final decision to separate the forest, sending his own guard of hunters with each piece of the forest. Trying to keep Urwik from seeking the darkness hiding inside. Des learned of her own mother's journey, being attacked by screechers at an orphanage. The first step of her passage to become of the forest.

Des read pages and pages of her mother's hopes, dreams, and even fears of the forest. Des never felt closer, discovering how vulnerable and determined her mother was. Each word was like a memory she experienced, traveling backwards in time to her mother when she was 17 years old. Just like Des.

Des heard Griffin slurp the last of his drink before shutting the journal he was reading. "I give," Griffin moaned, laying his head on the smooth cold table. "My eyes can't take in another word. If they do, they might explode."

Laughing, Des put her own journal down and used her finger tips to rub her eyes, giving them a much needed break. When she opened her eyes, Griffin still had his head down on the table, complaining about how learning was going to make his brain explode.

Ignoring his dramatic showing, picked up the journal she was holding before, and continued reading on. She had just gotten to parts about the creatures lurking inside the forest. Her mother was describing the light elves as beings born of purity and holiness. The angelic strength and wisdom allows them healing abilities with herbal remedies. The light elves never dabble in the dark arts, avoiding the alluring spell it sings to them. The dark arts act as a siren in the sea, luring the elves to a single speck of shadows. Each elf is born with a crystalized stone, showing their courage and power of their will and service to the forest.

Des read on, enchanted by more creatures inside. The next page was designated to the dark elves. The beings she had, unfortunately, met early. She learned that dark elves are very dusky and deceitful creatures of the forest. The silver tongue hiding inside allows them the chance to escape any challenging situation, and even create some of their own. Trained with military expertise, the precise and accurate movements are hypnotizing, usually fighting with blades made from ancient metal burned and infused with dark magic.

Each dark elf uses their stone to perform their magical abilities, becoming brittle with every passing form of enchantment. Although, all magic comes at a price. The dark charcoal skin is seared by a flame as a method of payment for calling upon the dark arts. Each burned mark serves as a reminder for their soulless embodiment.

As Des finished the last sentence, it sent shiver down her spine. So that's why burns covered their canvas of a body she thought. How could anyone even attempt to do that to themselves? Even in life threatening conditions.

Desiree's body trembled, imagining the pain and gut wrenching horror dark elves go through when calling upon magic.

"What's wrong?" Griffin asked, glancing toward her.