A Mischievous Tale of Magical Mayhem

3 | Erianthus

As morning crept upon the travelers, the shadows within their nest of vines lifted gradually from deepest black to blue twilight before the sun rose. Tallon's mist had served them well, but it left behind a thick layer of dew that dripped from every leaf and dampened their bedrolls. They woke shivering, stowed their gear, and ate a cold breakfast before setting to work on the vines. They decided to cut through the barrier naturally instead of spending unnecessary energy on magic, but with only daggers and a single woodcutter's ax between them, it was a slow, difficult chore.

By the time they emerged, twig-torn hair, scratched skin, and shredded clothes contributed to an overall bad mood.

Regrouping, they moved on as quietly as they could with a horse and cart, following the stream. With Fann and Scamp acting as scouts, they were in little danger of being taken by surprise again, but fortunately, it seemed the group of bandits had been a lone party, and they had no more trouble.

That evening, just as the sun dipped towards the eastern hills, they came upon the shores of a large, shallow lake. Choked with lily pads, it promised neither a good place to bathe nor to fish, and the muddy banks swarmed with mosquitos and little biting flies.

Erianthus had said to meet him somewhere near the southern shore, but as Tallon surveyed the landscape, misgivings and doubt made him frown. The land was lush with willow thickets—the perfect sort of place for bears to hide—and while this would also provide them with cover, they couldn't light a fire without giving themselves away.

It would be a roll of the dice between whichever they deemed the greater threat: men, or beasts.

Sidling up to him, Ben leaned against his side, inviting Tallon to wrap an arm about his waist.

"I don't like this place," Ben muttered. "It's creepy. What if those bandits were right, and this elf is a necromancer, or something?"

Tallon's mouth twisted as he suppressed a smile. "I doubt it. I believe myself to be a decent judge of character, and though strange, I don't think Erianthus is a threat to us. Besides, he helped those travelers you met, didn't he? My guess is he simply prefers to be left alone."

Ben sighed. "I'd like to be alone—with you. It feels like it's been ages since..." He blushed and bit his lip.

Tallon inhaled slowly. He'd behaved as a gentleman during their travels—mostly for Maisie's sake—but Ben had no idea how it tried him. Even now, Ben's warmth at his side, the luster of late sun on his black curls, the swell of his mouth, the way his travel-worn shirt hung loose from his shoulders, all combined to torturous effect.

He'd have liked nothing better than to drag Ben off to a shady bower like some lascivious beast-man of myth, but instead he merely pulled him closer and kissed the side of his head.

"I know. I'd love nothing more than to have you, and a nice room at an inn for a week. But first we've got to find this strange healer, and then—"

He cut himself off as movement caught his eye. Releasing Ben, he reached for his crossbow, then blew out his breath when he saw there was no danger, after all. Erianthus dropped from the trees above without a sound, landing in a graceful crouch.

"Boo," he said, and grinned, white teeth flashing against brown skin and the sharp points of his ears protruding from his mass of long hair.

That was twice now the wood elf had snuck up on them, and Tallon scowled.

Oblivious to Tallon's ire, Erianthus straightened and addressed Ben. "So, little one, it seems I had nothing to fear for you, after all. I have not seen a bonded pair in many years, and thought I was mistaken, for you are no elf! And you," he pointed to Tallon, "are but half of one, and barely grown, if I perceive you right. You must tell me how in the seven realms this has come to be, and how you come to travel in such... eclectic company. But not here. Come—my home is but a short distance hence, and safe from prying eyes. I will guide you there."