The Last Wolfson

Chapter 1: The Meadow

He didn't know how long he had been there, but the sun was now shining, and the leaves were a deep orange where he had distinctly remembered they were green moments ago. He pushed the now shriveled, lifeless roots away, along with some leaves and stones, feeling a new surge of life and energy pulsing through him, commanding to be released.
He started to run, blazing through the trees, his feet barely touching the ground. Before he knew it, he was in a clearing with grass and flowers that made it look like a meadow, miles from where he began, next to a lake of deep blue that reflected the joyous rays of the sun. He ran up a rock posing in front of the lake and his body dove into the lake without his permission, swimming deeper and deeper before he forced it to turn around and go back up for air.
As he swam toward the surface, he opened his mouth, instinctively breathing in the water and filling his lungs with the deep blue of the lake. His heart pounded like a drum, as he realized through his confusion, he was breathing under water when he was a creature of the land. He shot to the surface, and swam to the edge of the lake, pulling himself to the shore.
As he laid in the warm sun drying himself, his back on the grass, he tried to make sense of the confusion that muddled his mind. What had happened to him while he was under the roots? Or, more importantly, what had happened to the world?
He lifted his head and studied his surroundings. A small path behind him led into the nearby forest from the clearing and the lake's edge. In the distance, craggy, snow-tipped mountaintops touched the blue sky. The trees of the forest between him and the mountains waved and drifted like a green ocean as the wind blew through their branches. He heard something and looked back at the path in time to see a figure dart behind a tree.
He leapt to his feet, his senses sharpening like his teeth and nails as he prepared to defend himself if this figure planned to do him harm. Instead, the figure stepped out timidly, standing no taller than his chest, from behind the trees.
Its skin was green-tinged and had a leafy appearance to it. Its ears were pointy and its bare toes and fingers small and delicate. It became a 'her', when he realized she wore a dress made out of wood and leaves. He stared intently at her face, and he knew she was scared of him.
"Who are you?" he asked directly.
She darted back into the trees and he growled, not wanting to play hide and go seek. He started walking into the trees and she darted back playing a game of chase just keeping ahead of him so he could glance her but not to catch her. Through the trees full of life and green they went. He was getting tired of this chase game. He put on a burst of speed, to catch her and slammed her against a tree. She was breathing so hard he knew she was about as afraid as you could get. Her breath was like river currents, fast and never ceasing. He asked her again,"who are you?" very forcefully now and with danger in the edges of his voice.
"I'm Miranda... the Oakelf." She said quickly, gasping for air. Her voice showed just how scared she was of him.
He pondered this for a moment and then asked,
"If I let you go, will you promise you won't run away?" He said. "And sorry about this rough start. I just need to know some things." He let her go and she stumbled away, terrified and stunned by his brute strength and speed. "I'm not going to hurt you." He said, slightly gentler.
"Ok ok ok." She said, not even close to convincing herself.
"Seriously, I'm not planning on hurting you." He said in his low voice. She calmed down a bit.
"Well, how about you tell me who you are?" she asked timidly.
"Phang," he responded, "Phang, the Wolfson."
She gasped as if he had just said that her mother had sold her favorite tree. "But Wolfsons are gone! They've disappeared!"
Phang raised his voice in alarm, "What are you talking about? What do you mean, 'disappeared'?!"
"The Unknowns were said to have nearly wiped out all of the Wolfsons, over three years ago," Miranda said, "where did you come from?"
"I was in a war, where I fought the last of the Unknown. Death was upon it, I felt its dark blood, and tore into the little light left in it," Phang explained. "There is no possible way that one Unknown could have defeated us."
Miranda shook her head sadly, "I'm sorry but it's true. The Unknown were cunning and bided their time, hiding until the Wolfsons thought victory was theirs. They attacked at the Gathering and slaughtered many of your kind. Others were taken prisoner as well. Now their kind is ruling most of our major lands. Some small Oakelf, sand mantis, glowwyrm, hydr, thunddrakk and dozens of different small outcast tribes aren't taken or ruled by them, but there are not many of us."
The terribleness of this sunk into Phang's brain, melting him down and filling him with sorrow. He couldn't imagine his once powerful tribe, enslaved by a species as ugly as the Unknowns.
"Where are they now?" Phang asked tensing for the answer.
"In... the Slave Lands," Miranda said sorrowfully, "being worked to death."
Phang's resolve boiled over, and he barked at the delicate Oakelf, "HOW DO I GET THERE?"
Miranda jumped back, nearly tripping over a tree root, just catching herself before tumbling to the ground. "Stay away from me Wolfson!" she screeched, holding up her arms in front of her face to protect herself.
Phang took a step back, holding up his hands in a way he hoped would show that he meant her no harm. "I'm sorry... please... I didn't mean to startle you..." Phang said more calmly. "I just need to know how to get to the Slave Lands from here. And then I will leave you in peace."
"I have a map at my Quercetum." Miranda said. "But you'll have to come and get it."
He groaned.
"Your care-what? What's that?" he asked.
"My Quercetum," Miranda repeated it slower as care-say-tum, "It's where the Oakelves live. Come on, follow me," Miranda said.
Phang did not like this dubious situation. He wasn't excited about the idea of being surrounded by an entire community of these jumpy little people. "Can't you just go and fetch it?" Phang asked.
"Nope. You must come," Miranda firmly replied.
Phang raised his eyebrow, "And what if I say no?" he said suspiciously.
Miranda paused thoughtfully before concluding, "Well, then I guess you don't get a map."
They stared at each other as Phang calculated the risks. Eventually he said "Fine, I'll come."
"Ok!" she said cheerfully, and turned to make her way into the woods. He followed but with a terrible feeling he was walking into a trap. They walked through the trees which were getting thicker and thicker by the second. It became so thick, that they had to shove vines and leaves and various different plants out of their way -- although Miranda didn't seem to have much of a problem navigating the overgrown path. Eventually they came to what Phang decided was the absolute densest part of the forest, when he began to see Oakelves appearing in the gaps of leaves in the trees.
"Right in here," she waved him into what looked like a cave of vines and leaves, and just as he entered he heard a snap and a split-second later he found himself hanging precariously upside down suspended by some sort of trip trap!
"Mama! Mama! I caught a Wolfson" Miranda yelled, running off in the direction of the Quercetum. A few minutes later she was back, dragging her mom by the arm.
Her mom said in an exasperated voice, "Dearie, I've told you many times there are no Wolfsons left. They're all in the Slave Lands. Besides, he's probably just some hairy wandering dirt ogre."
He stiffened. Dirt Ogre? Seriously?! A Dirt Ogre would probably eat a small Oakelf like her. Plus, they were fat and stupid (albeit big and strong).
"Mama! But he said he was a Wolfson!" Miranda protested.
"Yes, many do, none are." Miranda's mother walked around Phang inspecting his body with a raised eyebrow.
"Ok, so if we're done here can I go?" He asked calmly.
"Oh no, of course not! Wolfson or not, you're a good sacrifice for tonight's fire," Miranda's mama said with an evil twinkle in her eye. She had long straggly hair that looked as though it had never been introduced to a comb, and her pointed, crooked nose jutted out from between tangles that hung over her face. Her nails and teeth had veins of poison that flowed through every adult oakelf's natural weapons.
"Sacrifice? Fire?" Phang gulped. He wasn't excited about hearing those two words in the same sentence.
Phang began inspecting his surroundings as he planned his escape. He saw that he was hanging from a long rope that appeared to be woven from hundreds of small vines and connected to a thick tree branch high above. It looked strong enough to hold an Unknown by it's tongue, so he decided that attempting to break the rope wasn't an option.
"Yes! Put him in the cage!" Mama shouted.
"But mama..." Miranda whined.
"No buts. Into the cage he goes."
"Fine." Miranda folded her arms and conjured up her best pouty-face.
Phang was cut down and fell into a large cage like metal container. His strength and speed did nothing to help him. It had wheels and she started wheeling deeper into the burrow.
"Tonight's fire is a time when we sacrifice something to the beasts in The Pit. I'd like to say that it doesn't sound as bad as its name, but, to be perfectly honest, it's pretty bad. The Pit is filled with beasts that we've captured and imprisoned over the years. The beasts aren't fed much, so they're pretty hungry, and I imagine a bit grumpy too. That's where you'll be dumped!" Miranda said cheerfully.
"I feel so much better." He said, almost giving up. "Sooooo, what you're saying is that I'm dead right?"
"Not completely. But probably. Certainly by morning. Maybe sooner." Miranda said thoughtfully, as though she were picking what type of wallpaper she wanted instead of contemplating his odds of survival. She flounced out of the prison cheerfully, humming to herself.
He stared at the dirt walls and wooden bars of his cage. He looked around the small prison. It was obviously designed for only a few people as there were only five cells. The bars were all made out of strong wood and the ground was hard-packed dirt. He sighed and sat down hopelessly.