Christabel's guide to necromancy and world domination

Why don't I like these answers?

I rubbed my hands, trying to get back some sensibility. On the happy side, the warrior hare and his fairy friends had decided to release me from the chains, thinking that I looked harmless and confused enough to not be an evil monster bent on their destruction. On the unhappy side, I had not found a way to tell them that the skeleton dwarves on the mountain were not undead abominations, but trustworthy people, and that I may be the one who raised them from the dead. Hey, I know it is not nice to lie to cute talking animals, was not feeling my feet anymore, I would like to see what you would have done!

I was now being given a grand tour of their little hidden underground lair, and a recap of how they arrived in that situation.

" Elves. It's all their fault.", announced one of the little fairies, lazily flapping her golden wings while sitting on my shoulder. Her name was Night-on-the-River, and she had very quickly appointed herself as my guide.

Yeah, the fairies were talking in my language now. Apparently, they had always been able to do that, and just decided to wait if I was a monster or not before revealing it. Or, which was my favorite option, the writer of this disgusting excuse for a comic book was too lazy to come up with an original language and to waste vignettes on having someone else translating their words for me. Well, at least now I was sure that my life was not a Nanowrimo project, wasting words is pretty much the rule for that.

Back to the point, how utterly original that elves were to blame for the situation. Now I really wanted to hear their point of view about it, maybe when they were not trying to sacrifice me in a weird magical ritual.

" Elves, you say? What have they done?", I asked, not really pretending to be curious. If the story matched the one the dwarves had told me, it would be a good start.

" Their wizards knew danger was approaching. A terrible, terrible danger. And so they decided to be ready for it. To make an army."

" Well, that sounds... sensible?", I suggested.

" Oh, it would. It would be very sensible.", grumbled the hare that was hopping next to me. His name was apparently Serianorkarmon, but everybody called him commander, which was also what I was doing because honestly, that name was a mouthful. We were walking through a maze of hallways, their roof made of the roots of the large trees I had seen upstairs.

" They found a terrible, terrible ritual, that would change the forest itself in their endless and unstoppable guardian. A way to wake up the trees, and make them into warriors.", explained the fairy. For a thing so tiny, she really had a knack for the dramatic roles.

" I guess it worked too well, right?", I suggested.

" Exactly.", nodded the hare:" The forest came alive, and it started destroying everything inside it. Starting from the elves."

Of course it did. So far, so good, the story actually filled some plot holes from what the dwarves had told me. Except the bit where it was supposed to have happened a very long time ago.

" When did this happen? Were you there?", I asked. First rule of academical work, always investigate the credibility of your sources. Usually by asking your mother, if it is a paper for English Literature.

There was a short moment of silence, just enough to make me certain that they were hiding something, then the hare looked away and muttered:

" It's complicated, but... yes, I was. Anyway, when the trees became bloodthirsty monsters, some of the creatures in the forest were affected as well. Others were not, but most of them met a horrible death. The survivors hid here, in what used to be the elves' city. They were not here to complain, anyway."

Oh, so elves had an underground city. That explained why the dwarves hated them so much, they were totally stealing their aesthetics. Or something.

" None of them survived?", I asked.

" Some of them did, but they fled the forest, not willing to face what they had brought upon us. The useless idiots.", explained the blue-winged fairy flying next to us, the same one that had flown on my nose earlier. I had been informed that her name was Soft-Mist, and that she was the second in command of Commander Fluffy Hare. She was also Night-on-the-River's mother, though I could not see any resemblance in their color schemes. Well, fairy genetics would have to wait.

" And the other ones... oh, they are still here. Some of them are still here. But they are not elves anymore, they are terrible, terrible creatures!", added the golden-winged fairy. It looked like all of them had a flair for the dramatic. And this one really liked the word terrible.

" They died, and the dark magic they imbued the forest with brought them back to life.", explained the hare:" Now they roam the forest like a plague, mocking shells of what they had been, preying on any creature they can find and using them in dark rituals. You were very lucky to arrive here during the day, girl. At night, they would have probably found you before you could reach our safe place."

" What kind of dark rituals are they doing?", I investigated. If it was something about creating dimensional portals, it would explain my arrival on that place, and also give me a chance at going back home. Maybe. I mean, it would be a good start.

" We don't know. We did not exactly ask.", pointed out Soft-Mist. I was getting the feeling that she had a sense of humor. Rare and precious quality.

" And are they... I mean, can you fight them? They can be... killed, right?", I asked, remembering the events of a few nights before. The part where I bit their hands and they crumbled into dust, to be clear.

" No. If you hurt them, make them bleed, they will turn into dust and give you a moment of reprise, but it does not take long before they come back. And anyone who destroys one of them, even for a moment...", Night-on-the-River shuddered, and shook her head:" There are consequences. It's like a part of that creature gets into you."

Yeah, and they taste terrible. Wait, what?

" You... change into one of them?", I whimpered. I did not want to become a zombie elf because I bit a zombie elf. I had never been a great fan of dramatic irony when applied to me.

" No, luckily it's not enough for that.", explained the hare:" But... well, dark magic is inside you. Once, a fairy affected by their dust came back here, inside our protections, and since he was hurt he bled on a tree. We had to cut the tree down before it became like the ones out there."

So, let's say a person contaminated by said dust accidentally pees on top of a skull, that's still disgusting no matter how many times I say it, would that be enough to reanimate it?, was what I wanted to ask, but that would really raise too many awkward questions. But at least now I had a theory about how I accidentally raised an army of undead dwarves. Another mystery solved! Hey, maybe I could avoid both the heroine's and the damsel in distress' roles, and become magical Sherlock Holmes, right?

" And that is why now you are going to take a little test. Don't worry, we just need to be sure, but if you never had any contact with their magic, you will be perfectly fine."

Whooops. How many times can I say that I am screwed?