Gareth Brennen was a woodsman from Brettonia. He lived on the edge of the woods south of the Grey Mountains, had done so for many years, and would, with the Lady’s blessing, live for a number more in the same fashion. He made his life from the woods, whose particular name had been lost in time. He hunted the numerous forest animals, and cut down the trees, but he only killed as much as he needed to feed his family, and felled only as many trees as he needed to keep his home warm. Many seasons ago, when he himself had been a young boy, his father used to tell him terrific tales of a certain faerie folk that resided in the woods.
“The fairies are a distrustful folk, and will cut down any they perceive as harmful to themselves or their sacred forest. That is why we must always be cautious, and never take more wood than is needed to keep our fires going through the winter.”
Of course, as Gareth had grown up, he had never believed in such absurd stories. He had ventured into the woods hundreds, if not thousands of times, and never before seen any trace of these “fairies”. One morning, Gareth’s search for game brought him farther into the woods than ever before. Even into the afternoon, the game was sparse and the woodsman never seemed to be able to get a clear shot in with his bow. Stumbling into a small clearing, he came upon a spring, neatly tucked away in the glades.
Immediately Gareth was struck by the pool’s tranquility. The entire glade seemed to radiate a sense of peacefulness. Gareth set down his weapons and rested for a moment, taking advantage of the clear, clean water. He was about to depart when a tiny object on the ground caught his attention.
There, at the waters edge. Gareth looking around, stepped slowly towards it. As he neared, he found it to be a necklace. But it was no ordinary necklace. Not only was it the most beautiful and perfect necklace he had ever seen, but it shimmered slightly with an inner light, multiplying its awe-inspiring beauty threefold. He crouched, and extended his hand to grasp the flawless pendant into his hand, when all of a sudden, a cry stopped him short.
Instinctively, Gareth froze. Slowly turning his head, he observed what looked like a little girl, but in a moment, Gareth could tell that, like the necklace, this was not an ordinary little girl. Her hair was blonde and as finely braided as any Gareth had ever seen. Her dress was white, as was her skin, both not very common sights in this part of Brettonia. Almost all people Gareth knew were tanned from their work in the hot sun and white clothes rarely remained white for long.
But what struck Gareth most of all were her eyes and her ears, the former were deep and mystical, and told of an age that contrasted sharply with her young features. The latter were sharply pointed at the ends, and affirmed to Gareth the fact that the little girl, indeed, was not normal.
Moving slowly, the woodsman set down his weapons and began to walk towards the girl, a soft smiled fixed on his face and soothing words, or at least what he thought were soothing, coming from his mouth.“Its okay... I’m not going to hurt you...”
From the little girl’s mouth issued another sound, but it made no sense to Gareth. She pointed at the necklace, and the woodsman realized it must have been hers. He bent again to pick it up, so that he might return it to the girl, but he was stopped in mid-motion by a sharp command issued in a tongue he did comprehend.
“Stand, slowly, and turn.”the voice was slightly accented, but held a commanding tone such that Gareth dared not disobey. As slowly as he could make his trembling limbs go, he rose and pivoted to face the new speaker. Before he could reply, the figure spoke again.
“The girl does not understand your language, human. You are lucky that I do, and thus know that you mean her no harm.”
The speaker was clad, unlike the girl, in robes of seemingly woven from leaves, blending him perfectly with the surrounding foliage. His ears were similar, though, and had the same sharp point at the end. But most noticeable was the bow that the figure held, arrow nocked, and pointed straight at Gareth’s face.
The bowman spoke several other words to the girl, none of which the Gareth understood. He then heard what he perceived to be the little girls footsteps approaching behind him, and for a moment he feared he might be taken prisoner by these... these things.
But his fears were nought, for he heard the little girl bend down, presumably to retrieve her beautiful pendant, and then scamper off into the forests.
Gareth returned his attentions to the archer, who now held a slight smile on his face. “You are lucky to even be alive today. Had you ever taken one more scrap of tinder than the elders deemed you needed, you would be more extinct than our alliance with your kind.” a smirk settled over the archer’s face. “Go now, return to your home, and be wary of where you trod in this sacred land, for we always shall be watching.”
The archer lowered his bow and before Gareth move, made a quick gesture with his hand. Gareth felt a wave of shock sweep over him, leaving him blinded and staggering. It took him several seconds to regain his senses, and when the woodsman finally blinked the darkness from his eyes, the archer had disappeared amongst the trees. Looking around, astonished, he observed that the necklace was indeed gone, and so were any trace of either the archer or the little girl.
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