Page 133 of A Trial of Fate

Trusting in his logic, I ventured off to gather smaller kindling and other various sticks for a fire. The forest seemed quiet, almost like it was alive and watching me as I arrived on the outskirts of the darkening woods. As a shifter, I could see in the dark, but there were regions of these thick woods that even I had difficulty deciphering. It gave me the creeps, and I had that all too familiar feeling of a predator watching me. I peered deeper into the darkness, but nothing answered. The silence was baffling to me, but all of this was new. Perhaps the woods of the Inner Kingdom were always this quiet? Gathering as much wood as I could, I returned to Daxton and Castor.

“Is it wise to have a fire tonight? Wouldn’t it alert anything lurking in the woods to come and attack us?”

“Not with Castor and I standing guard,” Dax said with confidence. “What weapons are you comfortable with? I already laid a bow and quiver of arrows near your bedroll. Would you be comfortable with a dagger as well?”

I nodded as I accepted a lightweight dagger that would strap easily to my upper thigh. But that wasn’t what held my attention. My eyes darted over to my bedroll, which had one of the most beautifully crafted bows I had ever seen in my life. It was simple yet elegant, with dark smooth wood along the grip decorated with silver swirls.

“Did this weapon come from your kingdom?”

Daxton smiled. “It did. It belonged to a fierce female warrior of my people who died in battle protecting those she loved. I believeshe would be honored if you carried it.”

I blushed and carefully pulled back the string, testing its stability and strength. From the looks of it, this bow had seen its fair share of combat, but it was well taken care of. The lightweight and flexible frame was astonishing, the absolute perfect bow, in my opinion.

“I’ll make sure I take good care of it.”

“I trust that you will and that it will serve you well. There are creatures in our land that you need to be cautious about, Spitfire, but nothing that will haunt us tonight.”

“What types of creatures?” I shifted the pile of kindling next to him and worked on building a fire. “Come on. You had to know by now that I was going to ask.” I winked at him, and even in the dark, I could see the hint of his smile in return.

“Dryads can be bothersome,” Daxton said. “Especially in the thick woods leading to Crimson City and all around Silver Meadows. I don’t know how many times I have accidentally harmed a tree they were protecting when I was younger and had my ass almost handed to me as a result.” He sighed heavily, recalling his various encounters throughout his long life. “They can be a handful to negotiate with, but I was thankfully able to repair my mistakes.”

“Interesting.” I hummed in contemplation. “I’ve read about these creatures.”

“I’m sure you have,” Dax said, flashing me a half-grin.

“Is it true that if the tree a dryad is protecting is killed, the dryad also dies with it?”

Dax nodded. “We have been working closely with the population in Silver Meadows, trying to save their trees from the wilt or relocate them. But sadly, many do not survive. Their devotion to protecting nature is remarkable, combined with their wrath to all those who threaten it.”

“It sounds like you know from experience.” I huffed a laugh, reading the grimace on his face as an indication that I was correct.

“I tend to learn things the hard way and have to experience life firsthand for it to really sink in,” Dax admitted freely.

I lit a small spark with flint rocks and encouraged it to grow with dried grass and long exhales of breath under the larger broken branches I collected. The flames burst to life, and I could see Daxton moving his fingers, allowing his magic to help encourage the flames. “Okay, what other creatures should I know about then?” I asked.

“Water nymphs,” he answered quickly. “Also known asmerfolk. Their main colony resides in the depths of Sterlyn Lake—the largest body of freshwater in the Inner Kingdom that feeds many of the rivers and streams throughout the island. Nymphs keep to themselves mostly, but every so often, there are stories of a male or female High Fae falling for their beauty and being taken under the waters of the lake, never to be seen again.”

“Have you ever seen them?” I asked as my curiosity piqued. I enjoyed hearing and learning about these creatures and the world I was now in, but most of all, I liked hearing it from Daxton.

“I have, yes. The trick to water nymphs is that they are gorgeous in their element. But once they leave the water, their beauty drips away as well. They are terrifyingly hideous on land, with elongated fangs, sunken eyes, and very foul tempers. It is best to conduct business with their kind in a shallow river or stream.”

“Why is that?”

“They keep their natural forms that don’t creep into your nightmares, and they also can’t lure you into the waters to drown you.”

“They would do that?”

“Everything must eat, Skylar.”

My eyes widened, but eventually, I just shrugged. I was not naive and understood the nature of life and the hierarchy of the world. There were predators, and there were prey. It was pointless to be angry at the natural flow and balance of their world.

“All right, hit me with one more that I should know about,” I said as I lay back on my bedroll. Daxton smoothed his roll out so our heads were next to each other, with our feet pointing in opposite directions, allowing us to remain close while keeping watch.

“One of the most dangerous creatures created by the wilt…” He paused for a moment, looking out into the dark woods. “They are called nalusa falaya— also nicknamed the fallen.”

“Why …the fallen?”

“You remember me telling you about casualties due to the wilt? That some were lost and did not escape in time?” I nodded, remaining deathly quiet, intently listening to every word he was telling me. “The fallen are long, gangly ebony-black beings of pure death and shadow. They are a byproduct of High Fae and other fae-type creatures coming into contact with the dark magic of the wilt. It changes them, destroying the beings they once were and mutating their bodies into creatures whose sole purpose is to kill. And trust me from experience… they are also very difficult to kill.” Daxton twirled ablade of grass in his fingers concentrating on his description. “They hunt along the borders of the wilt’s territory, searching for any living thing they can find to curb their appetites. If you are bitten or scratched by a fallen… their poison seeps into your body, and you are changed into them. Almost all who are infected by the wilt’s magic choose death rather than succumbing to the change and transforming into a fallen creature.”

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