Mythical Book #1

Chapter 12

Midday passes, as storm-producing clouds boil over the horizon of the lush grassy rolling hills. The tall blades dance rhythmically with the wind, as they lead west to the Forest of Fairies. Bordering the edge of the forest are pink and white Tarax [Tara-rax] Trees, famously known for growing giant pink or white florets. Opposite the forest, to the East, the hills bleed off into prairie lands, that eventually turn into the outskirts of the Aradinar [Are-ah-din-are] Desert.

Nestled on the tallest hill in the center of the grasslands, gleaming in the sunlight, is the Great White Wall of Halter. And beyond it, the luxurious Fairy City of Halter. Neighborhoods of several one to two story white stone houses with glossy blue tile roofs encircle, like a wagon wheel, the magnificent crystal Castle of Halter.

Today is the beginning Festival of the Tarax Tree, which celebrates the time when the season changes. Once the weather turns warm enough, the florets on the trees turn into fluffy pink or white seed heads. For the festival, traditionally everyone decorates the town with white and pink streamers, flowers, and various other crafty decorations. The maidens wear pink, and the Fairymen wear white. There's music, dancing, drinking, and of course, fornicating galore. Food upon food for the masses, more than any could devour in the city. This is one of Halter's great celebrations that happens every year. It brings Fairies from all over the land, from the forests and mountains to the ocean and islands beyond.

The finale of the festival is when the wind changes direction and picks up in strength. All the pink and white floret seeds blow off their trees, and float across the grassy fields and over the city, covering it with a thick blanket of fluffy Tarax seeds; like pink and white snow.

Cresting the top of a hill, a few hills from the city wall, Kalgun halts his horse. He stares at the city across the grass fields that are waving steadily in the wind. Sounds of the celebration echo as he scoffs to himself, 'The purpose of this city is nothing more than just to show off the opulence of the Fairies. Ha! Poor fools, reveling in their decadence and debauchery. Little do they know what's about to be unleashed. Ah, yes, the forbidden teachings the Advisor has taught me shall surprise them a great deal! And, with the help of this beauty right here,' He holds up the Zlobrann and grips it, causing the blade to eagerly flame up. Just then, a few of his commanders, including the Advisor, reach the crest of the hill alongside him.

"The wind is picking up, m'lord," the Advisor whispers.

"Aye, this will take some patience and perfect timing," Kalgun says, cringing slightly at the thought of being patient, 'But without patience there is no plan, and with no plan we will no doubt endure great losses.' Kalgun remembering a quote from the Troll warrior scriptures, 'Epics and Wars.' 'We have a chance to defeat the city without any losses at all!'

"What are we waiting for?" whines one of the Troll King's commanders.

"You will see...it will be glorious!" Kalgun says, fully confident in his plan.

The Advisor rips up some grass from the ground with its gloved hand, then let's go of the torn blades. They flutter and fly through the breeze, as it picks up in strength. "One more day, m'lord, we should camp," the Advisor whispers.

"Make the call to make camp, commander," Kalgun orders to the whiny commander.

"But, m'lord, they'll see us, our fires, our tents." The commander argues.

"They are too busy with their Fairy party to notice us! Now, DO as I command!"

"Yes, m'lord." The whiny commander responds. He turns to the rest of the army gathered together at the bottom of the hills waiting anxiously on their orders. The commander blows the horn to indicate they are to make camp. Resounding sounds of disappointment emanate from the crowd, mixed with the muttering and cursing of having to wait.