Fae II

The sky was blanketed by gray as the foot took its first steps. In the distance the sound of the rooster’s crow greeted the morning. Past the brown pond cloaked with bull rushes the thick soled boots pushed into the damp earth. Fae was still groggy and felt very tired at the night’s previous encounters. He adjusted his shoulder strap and stopped for a second to look back on the walls of Marrow keep for a fleeting moment, before turning his head back to the overgrown path that lay before him.

His pace was slow and meandering with the curling trail that seemed to lead aimlessly eastward. The marsh was dense, wet and unsavory and Fae wondered if his kin had received the lands as a reward of an outright punishment. He thought about the box that he carried and frowned, the article was priceless so why hadn’t the clan sold it and used it for something purposeful? Food would have been a nice amenity, other than the strange items the swamp offered. Sure, they survived but by eating the wretched animals of the place, snakes, bugs, lizards, opossums and wild “marshies.” It seemed to him that even the more pleasant game such as ducks and rabbits had the ‘taste’. He shrugged his shoulders as a small smile curled across his lips, enough liquor made anything palatable.

It was noon and still very gray and the clouds even seemed to be darkening. The traveler stopped to utter curses at the buzzing and wet stop of flying insect targeting his ear drum. Fae’s eyes scanned the horizon to the hill that lay ahead and the trees that crowned the hump, long dead, bleached white and twisted like greedy skeletal fingers waiting to snatch the traveler. The eastern trail was seldom used because of its hazards, the path was never a prosperous one and now abandoned it was certainly unsafe. Marrow Keep sat in a natural bowl where the run off from the flat lands collected. It was stagnant and poisonous. Marrow keep had always traded with the larger mountain towns to the southwest when ever possible for that was the only direction that offered moderate safety. The keep was forgotten by the Kingdom long ago and its significance was just a footnote in a large book. Fae stumbled forward to the foot of the hill, “Hurray I have made it to Ickta.” Of course this was not a statement made with happy inflections.

The trail thinned and the bramble covered hillside became increasingly hard to navigate. Fae would plod a few steps and the loose soil would have him grasping, usually a patch of briers which would instigate a long stream of profanity. The hill was steep and most of the trod was done with a bent back and Fae was feeling the creeping ache of being stooped for hour needed to get to a level spot. Finally the crown was within reach, only a few more steps and he would reach the wreath of dead trees atop. He rested on a fallen log and looked down over the marsh; it was beautiful from his vantage point as it spanned out like a crescent of green, dotted with willows, cypress and other wet loving trees. He took a deep breath and realized that his negative thoughts had faded during the climb. Maybe the journey was for the best, perhaps at the Keep there was too much time to dwell on what hurt. He looked down on the palms of his hands and sank his teeth into a thorn spitting it out.

It took a little while to find the trail again once he had reached the crown of the hill. It seemed almost like he had entered into some ancient hall where the dead trees were columns that supported the blacking skies. The temperature was becoming cooler and the wind picking up slowly. He felt the first damp kiss of a droplet of rain upon his cheek and soon he felt disgust at being caught out in the weather without shelter. He looked around and saw nothing suitable to hide under till the storm passed. The trees where devoid of leaves and offered nothing but channeling for a lightning bolt. Fae felt exhausted from the climb and contemplated making a dash, but his wobbly legs wouldn’t cooperate with jog. Fae gave it an attempt but it was a drunken trot that ended up with him sprawling the dust. Making his way back to standing, the drops became heavy and violent taking his breath. He was blind by the downpour but somehow managed to scurry to a pile of downed trees.

Drenched to the core, even the leather hat saturated, Fae shivered as he watched the wall of water fall over him. The pile offered very little dryness but it was better than standing in the thick of the deluge. Curled up and shaking Fae began to mull once more and bad thoughts began to parade in his mind. He grunted and uttered a curse every few minutes as he waited for it all to subside. “Damn it! I have always wanted to spend an evening drowning, how lovely…thank you gods!”

Fae’s eyes closed and he concentrated on being warm, being soaked it was rather difficult but his anger had passed…he was too wet and cold to think about being angry at this point. The rain was a roar, but still in the distance a noise came and the traveler’s heavy lids snapped open. Ears perked for the sound but it was gone, nothing more than the falling rain. Fae leaned slightly tightening his coat and drawing brimmed had down over his face, it was imagination spooking him. Then once again in the distance the noise came, clearer, louder. Finger tipped the brim of hat slightly as eyes peered out narrowly into the curtain of precipitation, right hand grasping for the comfort of sharpened iron.
Once more the cry came, was it a child? No it could not be, this was Ickta no person would let a child come here. Perhaps it was a demon or some other malicious spirit, but the cry seemed so desperate and helpless, pained even.

The traveler shifted uncomfortable with his mind racing to make some sort of choice. Those damnable voices found it time to dance and Fae bit into his lip becoming angry.
Gentle thoughts came,” You here the cry? Don’t deny it, someone or thing is in trouble Fae. You can’t just sit here and ignore it.” Then the harsh one followed, “You are safe here, there is nothing you can do. Why risk it? What if it just a trap…something evil to do you in?” Fae rocked back and forth listening to the spirits and shook his head. “You two are always talking and not letting me be! When it is me that wants death one encourages and the other discourages, yet when it is someone else’s problem you two change sides. And you expect me to listen to your council?” Fae gripped the iron spear and laughed almost manically, “well I must do what is correct, what I have been taught…and if I am lucky it will kill me. Then I won’t have to hear you two bicker.”

He stepped out into the torrent listening to the cries and followed them until they grew louder and more desperate. Fae snaked through overgrowth until stumbling upon a pit, perhaps an old well, and the source of the bitter wailing. On knees Fae glanced down into the hole and saw movement. Puffing up and becoming brave Fae spoke, “What is down there making all the noise? Speak!”

A cry returned from the depth of the pit, “Please help me...don’t leave me down here, I am drowning!” The voice was child like and raspy Fae thought, could it be a kid down in the hole? Fae deliberated what should be done and threw his sack to the ground next to him. The voice once again desperate begged, “Please help me…I am scared, I can’t climb out…don’t leave me.” The traveler felt a tinge of panic watching the current of muddy rain water streaming into the pit.

“Damn it” Fae uttered under his breath as he poured out the contents of his traveling bag. “How in the hell did you get into a pit, who the hell are you?” Frustration seemed to make Fae a bit hostile but the child like voice continued to beg for assistance. “Alright already damn it! I am doing the best I can, hold on.” Fae smacked his forehead, to go on a long journey and forget rope…how humiliating. The traveler pulled off his boots and let naked toes touch the sides of the pit, course slimy stone. It was indeed a well.

With back against the wall of the pit and legs spread and pressing the stones, Fae began to lower himself down slowly with all the grace of an intoxicated spider. His eyes closed when he felt hands grasp his thighs and almost lost his stance when he looked to see that the hands where an ashy-blue in color. “Ok, you can get off of me now,” Fae spoke stammering. “ Please” The voice cried, “get me out of here. Please?” The weight of the rescued was light and Fae was growing tired, he would make his way back up and deal with whatever had latched on when he surfaced to the top.

The storm was weak now, the rain softened and Fae looked dead up into the gray unable to move. His legs burned and his nails where cracked and caked with blood. He could hear the scurrying of the creature nearby but was stunned at the moment. Fae never considered the toll that his endeavor would take. As he regained his senses he saw that the creature had departed…with his bag and the treasure! He turned on his side to find his spear, but that was gone also. As he sat up he cursed, “Well almighty ones, thanks again for the screwing…next time give me notice so I can spread my cheeks. That way you can drive it in just a little deeper!”

“Who are you talking to?” The hoarse child like voice chimed as the being tapped on Fae’s shoulder. The little being tumbled as Fae had backhanded the rescued into a bush.
“You damn thief…ill kill you!”

The little being stood up and placed its hands in front of its face waving them in deep panic, “Wait! Wait...calm down, I haven’t taken anything. I just moved all that stuff to a safer place. Please…c’mon can’t we get out of the rain…I mean you no harm, you’re my hero.” Fae stood to his feet, “So where are my things?”