Adria Moor tugged on the reins of the stubborn mule that held all her worldly possessions, which wasn’t much- a few sets of worn and patched clothes, a pouch with a few toiletries and a single book, with a well worn cover. She felt sure that the beast knew how much she hated it and was being purposefully unruly. Twilight was approaching and if the beast wouldn’t cooperate, she’d be stuck in the Fardeep Woods for the night, and she didn’t relish that thought. There were things in the Fardeep that were best not encountered in the dark.

“Come on, you stupid thing! MOVE!” she shouted in disgust. The mule (she was pretty sure it had a name and her brother Dorry had told her what it was, but she couldn’t bring it to mind now) just lowered its head and looked at her sullenly, braying quietly.

“I should just feed you to the nightoaks, you stupid thing!” She heard the note of desperation creeping into her voice. She blew her dark hair out of her eyes and wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. Nightoaks, now there was something unpleasant to think about when one was about to be trapped in the Fardeep where they were rumored to dwell.

Turning away from the source of her frustration, she surveyed the deepening shadows of the forest. The nightoaks were humanoid creatures, their skin resembling the bark of an oak tree only a deep murky black in color, hence their name. They were ruthless creatures, with near insatiable appetites that would eat whatever they could catch. The legends spoke of them being half again as tall as a man, with spindly limbs that were often mistaken for branches. They hid easily amongst the trees of the Fardeep. Nocturnal, they generally left travelers alone except if they were caught in the woods at night. As it looked like Adria would be.

“Pardon me-“A deep voice surprised her out of her thoughts. A tiny scream came out of her mouth before she could clap her hand over her mouth. The words came from a hooded figure that had come upon her in the trail unawares while she was daydreaming about nightoaks. Adria was lucky the traveler wasn’t one of the nightoaks himself, or she could have been a meal before she even realized he was there. Her dear Ma always told her she spent too much time thinking about other places and not enough in where she was.

“I’m afraid I startled you, my apologies,” the hooded traveler said. He looked to be a hunter of some kind, by the well stained and worn boots, a cloak that was dyed in browns and greens to blend easily with the wood, and the longbow that was slung over his shoulder. There were two hares strung to the saddle of his stout brown pony. It was difficult to make out whether he was thick or lean, tall or short, because of the way he hunched in the saddle. He was courteous enough to pull down his hood, revealing a stern but not unkind and surprisingly youthful face. She realized that her hand was still over her mouth and quickly dropped it to her belt. Not on the pommel of the short sword she wore but close enough to draw it quickly if need be.

“I am Anders Cross, and there’s no need for that,” his eyes rested squarely on hers, but there was little doubt of what he meant. Adria’s heart was thundering in her chest.

“How do I know that you’re not a bandit, Anders Cross? You have a rough look.” Despite her words, she sensed no danger from the stranger, just curiosity. Her Ma would be having a fit right now, with her speaking to a strange man in the Fardeep Woods.

A smile crossed his face, which immediately relieved the sternness and his eyes seemed to gain a bit of brightness.

“Aye, a rough look I might have, but it appears that you’re in a rough spot. Your mule doesn’t appear to realize that being in the Fardeep after dark is not good for one’s health, man or beast. Perhaps we can help each other?”

She looked at the mule, cursing it silently again for the predicament she was in. If she didn’t allow this man to help her, she might very well be stuck in the Fardeep overnight. If she did allow him- well, she knew what her Ma would say about courting help from strangers in the woods at dusk. She thought for a few moments, all the while Anders sat motionless atop his pony, his bright eyes never leaving her.

Blowing a stray hair out of her blue eyes, she did her best to put on a stern face before she replied.

“As I am having little luck with this horrible beast,” she smacked the mule on the rump as she continued, “I would be grateful for your assistance, but there will be no funny business! Or I’ll be forced to run you through!” The mule turned its head to look at her, and she could swear that it had a mirthful twinkle in its eyes. She squinted back at it distastefully.

Anders chuckled to himself before replying, “Fear not, lass. There will be no funny business from me. Come; let’s see what I can do to get this mule moving. Where are you headed?” He slid off the pony easily, and on his feet, Adria could see that his build was slight and he moved with litheness of a dancer. He moved towards the mule, which raised its ears at his approach.

“Yemm, then on to Port Gweren,” she said before she clapped her hand over her mouth again. Damn her tongue for getting away her. She could hear her Ma clucking in her head. Anders drew a carrot from under his cloak and fed it to the mule, scratching between its ears, which the ornery beast obviously liked. She turned away, embarrassed.

“Port Gweren, that’s no place for a young lass like you. But I’m sure there’s a reason,” he said softly over the mule’s head. “Let’s get moving, there’s no good reason to stay in the Fardeep any longer.”

Grabbing the mule’s traces, he began to walk, and the mule seemed to follow eagerly, making Adria curse under her breath. “You may ride my pony, if you wish; I think you’ll find him more amenable than your steed.”

The shadows were growing deeper by the moment. Adria hurried to the pony, which whickered quietly, but seemed calm and friendly. Who was this strange man, and why did she instinctively trust him? She pulled herself astride the pony and began to follow Anders down the path, relieved that even if she were caught in Fardeep after dark that she would not face the nightoaks alone.

A half hour later, Adria’s eyes could no longer make out the path before them. No light shone from the sky, and the only sound she heard was the rattle of branches being pushed in the wind. Anders Cross was a silent black shape before her, seemingly unphased by the darkness that surrounded them. She was sure that something terrible would happen at any moment and inside her head, her Ma’s voice was reciting a list of the reasons she was in this predicament. Ander’s pony was as sure-footed as he was in the dark, never missing a step. Occasionally, the mule let out a soft bray, which was oddly comforting to her. At least she wasn’t alone in her fear.

Anders froze in front of her, holding out a hand behind him to indicate silence. Adria held her breath, straining to hear or see anything but darkness. Was it her nerves or did the wind rattling the trees seem louder? Or perhaps it wasn’t wind at all, but nightoaks surrounding them–

Anders hissed something in a language she had never heard before and disappeared, startling her out of her thoughts of doom. One moment he was there, and the next the mule stood alone. She spun around in the saddle, craning her neck trying to spot him, but nothing moved in the darkness. She drew the short sword at her belt, her hands slicked with a clammy sweat that made her grip unsure. She continued to search the inky blackness, spinning the pony around and around, her breath becoming labored as fear engulfed her.

Suddenly, something sprang from the darkness, something spindly and tall and treelike. It made no noise other than an obscene rattle of claw-like tree branches as it reached for her. Adria recoiled in abject horror, flinging herself backwards from the saddle. The air whooshed out of her lungs as her back thudded into the ground, one of her feet still tangled in the stirrup. Her vision blurred with pain, bright dots blooming in the darkness.

The fearsome rattle seemed to fill her ears as she struggled to pull her boot free of the binding leather of the pony’s stirrup. The pony itself, rearing, screaming an animal scream, lashing out with its hooves. She was lifted up as it reared and slammed back down onto the ground, smashing the back of her head into the packed earth of the trail. Consciousness threatened to leave her and suddenly the Fardeep was eerily silent. She lost her sense of time unsure of whether a few minutes or a few seconds passed as she waited to feel the nightoak’s claws on her.

Light flooded the clearing, assaulting her eyes, making her wince painfully. Throwing her arms over her eyes, Adria cried out in fear.

“Shh, hush girl. It’s over,” Anders said softly. “Can you sit up?”

Groaning, she tried to sit up, the back of her head thumping in time with her racing heart.

“No! What happened, where did you go? What happened to the nightoak?” Questions flowed out of her before she could stop herself. She held her hand up in front of her eyes blocking the light.

“Don’t worry, the wretched thing won’t bother anyone again,” Anders said. The light was dimmer now, or her eyes were growing used to it. The nightoak lay in a heap a few feet from her, green fletched arrows protruding from where she guessed the eyes and mouth would be. Dead, it resembled a pile of discarded brush. She shuddered at the thought of its claws rattling towards her in the dark.

“Will there be more?” she asked fearfully. Anders shook his head in response as he knelt next to her, his fingers moving gingerly over her scalp, checking for lacerations. The light was dimming, but she could not even trace its origin. “Where did the light come from?”

“Just a small trick that my people know. It will not last long,” Anders replied, as he stood up and offered his hand. She took it gratefully and pulled herself to her unsteady feet. The mule stood nearby and approached her quickly as she stood, burying its nose in her stomach, nearly pushing her back over.

“Oh, so now you’re my best friend, you horrid thing,” she said softly to the mule as she scratched behind its ears. The pounding in her head was making it hard to process what Anders had said.

“Wait, did you say “my people”? What do you mean? Who are your people?” She could her Ma tut-tutting in her head for being rude to someone that just saved her life. Anders head was down and he was looking at the dead nightoak quietly. At her questions, he raised his gaze to meet hers. There was thoughtfulness in his eyes and his mouth was grim.

“I’m not sure why, but I trust you Adria. What I’m going to tell you is probably going to surprise you and should you share what I tell you with anyone, it could have dire consequences.” His gaze never wavered from hers, clearly underlining the gravity to his words.

“Your people call us Feylanders, we call ourselves the Children.” Adria’s mouth dried up instantly and she felt faint again. The Feylanders were an older legend than that of the nightoaks. Were all her nightmares coming true on the same night?

Next Chapter: Chapter 3