Return to Jorgaldur Volume II: the druid archer

Sneak visit

Maldoa approached village, vigilant. The area's level was higher than hers, so she could be in danger if she wasn't careful. It is true that, since she was a half-dryad, it would be strange that she were in real danger in the jungle. However, if she screwed up, she could become the center of dryad laughter and conversation for weeks.

It had already happened to her once, and she had never been so ashamed in her life. In fact, her cousin was going through something similar, although without the laughs. She had been in real danger, so there was anger instead of laughter, though not towards her. However, that didn't mean that the young dryad was no longer ashamed.

It was something that, sooner or later, all of them went through, most only once. Not going through it again was a great incentive to stay alert.

A level 65 boar passed near, but didn't even notice her, as she had merged into a tree.

"That tree is mine!" a voice complained.

Maldoa sighed. It was the fifth time. Each time a different dryad. Apparently, they were bored today.

She didn't go directly to the village, but instead she deviated to where the plants had indicated. There was an elf there, whose level was difficult to appreciate as it seemed to fluctuate. He was crouching down, checking a trap.

The drelf frowned. There was something inside him, a kind of power, perhaps a curse. Not that she was surprised, since her friend had already told her about something like that, although she wasn't sure. At that time, reality had been blurry for her.

"He's handsome. Goldmi has good taste," she said to herself.

She followed and watched him for a while, until he arrived at a small pond. It was fed by the waters of a small stream, which had found the right terrain to accumulate that water. She saw how the man sat in front of some beautiful flowers, white on the outside and yellow on the inside.

"They were your favorite flowers, your favorite place. Will you ever come back to walk here with me? Goldmi... Will you return to this world?" the elf murmured.

Maldoa stared at him until he was gone, while a tear of salty nectar was sliding down her cheek. Then, she watched thoroughly the place, so making sure to retain it in her memory. She planned to use it to embarrass her friend, as the elf hadn't told her about it.

She was quite happy to have accomplished her goal, and to see that Elendnas was waiting for her friend. So, the drelf just walked around the outskirts of town before leaving, while checking that there was nothing strange.

She didn't want to be seen. She didn't want anyone to know that she had been there, at least not yet. The mage would decide later if she told her friend or not, because she didn't want her to get angry with her. Or maybe she did.

A mischievous smile appeared on her face. Perhaps, she should take the opportunity to tease her a bit. She wished her friend would come back soon.

Meanwhile, Pikshbxgra watched the drelf curiously. Although she wanted to go with Aunt Omi, she felt that she should stay there. The fairy also strongly wished that the elf would return soon.

"Nothing in my area. I've sent some immature shadows to a couple of places, and they haven't been attacked," Kroljo reported.

Warkmon then looked at Jralon.

"Neither does anything in my area. We've sent several shadows, and others were watching from afar. We've even feigned some attacks. None have been attacked."

The vampire sighed. It was a strange and difficult situation. The shadows were terrified about the presence of an unknown entity that could destroy them, of which nothing was known.

The mystery made it even more scaring. In fact, they didn't even know if it was a single entity. They suspected that it could be a squad of fairies, as they had gotten to perceive the presence of one of them. That there was a single super powerful fairy who was capable of annihilating them was an idea they didn't even want to think about. It was too terrifying.

For now, Warkmon had to make them gradually regain their confidence. He didn't care too much if a few died, but he wanted to know how.

"Damn bird!" exclaimed the fourth prince.

He was in the kingdom of Goltrenak, south of the capital. He hadn't wanted to go back to Engenak, so he had stayed there to gain experience. His escort and a small entourage of sycophants was also there. Some time ago, they hadn't been allowed into the border camps, but that wasn't a problem there.

He hadn't received any punishment from the kingdom, quite the contrary. Although he had strained their relationship with the alliance, thanks to him, they had discovered the existence of an elf who, for some reason, was very important. They only needed to find out why. Perhaps, she could be of use to them in the future.

Right now, he was obsessed with catching an exotic albino goshawk which was flying over their heads, as if laughing at them.

At first, he had wanted to hunt it down, but upon checking its agility, he had decided to capture and train it. He had decided that it was worthy of being his pet. However, the bird didn't seem to have the same opinion.

First, it had dodged arrows with ease. After that, it had also dodged the spells to catch it. Sometimes, it just flied away while they were being cast. Others, it sped through and broke them, as if it were arrogantly pointing out that the sky was its.

His last attempt had been to enlist the services of several bird tamers, who were supposedly capable of dealing with it under the same conditions. However, it had plummeted, so gaining breakneck speed with which it had plunged into the forest.

A hawk that had dared to follow it had ended up crashing into the branches, but that goshawk had simply emerged a while later. It was unscathed and soaring into the sky. It had then emitted a loud cry with which it seemed to mock its pursuers, as if telling them that they weren't worthy.

Perhaps, they imagined it, but the bird seemed to provoke them, to amuse itself at their expense. That was something that Krusledón couldn't accept.

"We'll see who laughs last," he threatened, while the rest of the tamers' birds approached their prey.

Suddenly, the goshawk came towards them, while covering its body in wind magic, and Collided with one of them. The impact wasn't very strong, perhaps because it was its limit, or perhaps because it didn't want to kill the other bird. So, the victim managed to land not too awkwardly, and was only slightly injured.

The rest flied away, scared. The goshawk had made it clear who owned the skies.