The Hunt comes to Apuldre

Morag didn't lead the Hunt this time, but she gleefully followed it closely from her enchanted pool, far and away, in the Isle of Darkwood. This wasn't sport though, she was looking for something in particular...

Meanwhile, in the lands of the Northern Hwitblossom, in the rolling green hills of Apuldre, Ylva Hyllar had only heard about the Wild Hunt and never wanted to see it in person. The dark, unseely creatures stirred up chaos, inspiring boisterous bloodlust in even the noblest, best-intentioned of Faerie creatures, including Denaans.

She felt flushed with the heat of its call, then blushed even redder when she realized it. It made her blood sing as the leaves on the forest floor gently rustled and the rising winds whistled as they whipped around erratically. It sang out to her, wanted to be witnessed, but it was a trap.

She was frightened and repulsed by the wildness and unbriddled power, and wisely fled from It, slipping through Its' fingers. Had she been older, she would have been more tempted, but at 14, she was still very young. It pursued her with a casual curiousity. There was nothing like a new game to reinvigorate the energy of the Hunt, and peek the new interest of the Hunters.

She shouldn't have ventured that far into the Apuldrewood, but she had. She shouldn't have fallen asleep there. Unfortunately, just as darkness began to spread, a feeling of dread woke her from her rest. She bolted up, hitting her head on a lower branch of the tall oak tree she had been napping under.

She shuddered, realizing that she was close enough to the base of the Apuldremont to feel the chill of the mountain mist. In the shadow of Mont Hwitblossoms, the expansive canopy of Wicked Wood Trees above blocked out most of the sunlight in this part of the island. In fact, this close to the mountain, it was almost dark by noon.

Her people were used to living in the semi-darkness of the underworld and hidden caverns, with keen hearing and a delicate but acute sense of smell. Places like this, in the upper-world were like private summer-lands to the Denaans who took it over after humans abandoned it.

Like a fox, she could find her way around using gravity, and now it was pulling her southwest, towards home. Her eyes adjusted to the dark perfectly, so that she saw equally well with or without light. It was only sunrise and moonrise that confused her vision. During those times, like now, light and shadow played tricks on her eyes. She'd have to rely on her other senses to get home.

She was much, much faster than she looked, and knew that she could get to the Orchard from here fairly quickly. Once passed the Orchard Gate, she was officially on her families property, where the Hunt couldn't follow without permission. She left the heavy dress behind lest it slow her down. The Hunt laughed as it pursued her, scooping up her dress as a keep sake.

She leapt over tree roots, stones, and piles of dry, noisy leaves that could attract even more unwanted attention, making it there just in time. Once inside the Gate, she slide behind, almost beneath, the umbrella of a satyr statue that was surrounded by water fountain. On the inner side of the water fountain, she ought to be extra safe, or at least she hoped so.

The mountains had a haunted history, even in Faerie. There were old world monsters that dwelled there, ancient gods and goddesses, half-forgotten and decaying, desperate to be relevant once again. People and places disappeared, eaten or sacrificed to appease those gods, or perhaps ones even older than they were. Madness, illness, and bad luck afflicted those who lived to close to it, or spend too much time in its shadow.

The Danaans had once been Gods and Goddesses, in the human world, but they weren't anymore. However, many people still worshipped them, and many more told their stories and remembered their part and place in the Islands history. For now, they were safe from the realm of the faded and forgotten. The Formorians, their ancient enemies were still thriving as well, with several riding in the Hunt that pursued the young Denaan that night.

Eava Hyllar, her mother, rode furiously towards the Orchard. She could feel her daughters’ magic singing. Ylva called out to her for help and she’d fought through layers of mind-fog and hazy thoughts to answer her call. She had to draw attention away from her daughter, so she called up all the power she could muster, glowing and glimmering like a firefly, drawing all the attention to her.

She sent several power balls off in different directions to distract the lesser Dark Faeries, who were drawn to power the way reptiles were drawn to warmth. The Wild Hunters thought it was cute, and let the simple ones have their fun. They laughed amongst themselves as they watched the ladies play their tricks...

While the disposable hunters temporarily chased the distractions, and the Great Hunters watched from an easy distance, Eava easily found Ylva hiding behind the Satyr and pulled her onto Blue Queens’ back. They were just out of the Orchard, headed to the House, when the last power-ball gave one final explosive burst, All the attention was again on the Hyllar ladies.

This time, a second group of lesser beings joined the first in the chase while the Great Hunters continued to watch, placing bets. Gambling was as thrilling as killing was, gambling while killing was even better.

Blue Queen was faster than the Unseely beasts that chased her, and Eava wasn't afraid of them. Nonetheless, larger, more dangerous ones took the lead as the smaller, weaker ones fell back, scurrying back to the shadows. The Wild Hunters, the great ones, thoughtlessly snacked on cowards that gave up too easily.

Marian was waiting at the edge of the estate in a simple white dress covered by a dark grey cloak. On her head, she wore a silver diadem inlaid with onyx and moon stone. A Crow sat majestically on each of her shoulders; the king crow on one shoulder, the queen on the other. In her left hand she held a lantern, and in the other was a staff. She was the one that truly frightened them. In her misspent youth, she'd even lead them. More recently, she had lead a charge against them, winning the field against older, more experienced warriors.

Moon beams lit her up like the Dark Goddess she was, standing on the cusp of life and death. Her eyes glowed electric blue, the same color that rippled and danced around her every time she flexed her power. She was a beacon, a lighthouse cutting through the storm.

More importantly, her presence and power let the Hunt know that the child was under her protection, They immediately backed off, riding away to find another game game to play. There were some amongst them that still plotted to catch the girl, for their own reasons, but Marian Blackfeather wasn't one to be crossed lightly. For that matter, neither was the girls mother, once upon a time. Then there was the strangeness of the girl herself, but that inspired curiosity rather than caution.

The wild energy of the Hunt turned had light rain showers into a violent storm, complete with thunder and lightning that made everyone a bit jumpy, except for Blue Queen. They took the Storm with them when they departed, so it just slowed down gradually until it stopped. In Faerie, there was a delicate balance between magic, emotions, and weather that had to be respected and carefully handled. Even the Wild Hunt with its Chaotic Hunters wasn't foolish enough to mess with Mother Nature deliberately or without care.

Suddenly, something leapt out at Ylva from the left tree-line. Missing the child, the lady-monster gathered her bearings and prepared to attacking again. This unseely lady stayed to finish what she started. For her, it was personal. Her only son had lost his life pursuing the Denaan brat, and a short time ago, her mate had lost his life to a Denaan arrow to the heart. There had been no reason to kill her mate, and her son was doing what he had been ordered to do, he hadn't meant any real harm. They were all she had.

Blue Queen kept riding, but the Unseely-She ran aside them easily, leaping more than running. The Dark Female was short and feminine, with pale blue, almost green skin; teeth the color of old butter; and clawed hands with long, supple fingers tipped with black nails. Her large amber-green eyes were too large for her face, that was frames by long, curly black hair. Her fierce expression was a mix of fresh grief, anger, and the kind of hopeless hate that only death could drive away.

Ylva leaned forward and shouted "Go Away!" And at that moment, she slide off Blue Queens back, landing in a mud puddle with a sickening splat. Then, she shifted into a wolf, tearing the Angry Mother-monster apart with a bloody fury that she hadn't known she possessed. Right before the monster died, it smiled.

Panicked and shocked from the sudden and unexpected transformation, Ylva took off into the woods. Her new eyes saw everything, but in shades of grey and yellow, and everything close up was vivid and clear, things further away got blurry. Where her vision may have been limited, her nose and hears picked up everything. The strength and power surging through her could never be captured by words. All she wanted to do was run, but she blocked in all directions except east.

To the South, there was the Sorrowood and beyond that, the Wailing Mountains set back, and the peaks of the Deadmont below it. Those lands were rightly feared by everyone, and avoided by all. No one even liked to think about them or what lived there.

To the West and Center, there were the Hwitblossom Mountains, and the Apuldrewood. Most communities settled in Apuldrewoods central valleys. They were warm, even in winter, as the mountain blocked most of the cold weather off. They also got more light since they were away from the mountains shadow and tree line. Mont Aeldrasir blessed ash flowed down into the valley, making it a good place to grow crops, but that was where she was running from. And then there was the North.

To the North, Mont Aeldrasir stared down over the valley in silent judgement. If angered, it filled the sky with a dark cloud, then spit fire. Smoldering embers would rain down upon the world, starting more fires as trees and leaves went ablaze. It's thick blood would flow down to its side, consuming everything in its path, then cooling into black rocks that often contained precious gems. From its angry ashes, abundant new life sprung forth, with plentiful plants that could be gathered, which attracted beasts that could be hunted. It had been quiet for a very, very long time, but were it to awaken, the beasts would know first. They went mad, particularly the birds, but the people too.

To the East (slightly to the north), lay the lands called the Valrauk, and the only relatively safe path in or out of the Triduine Valley. Although no place, faerie or otherwise, is ever truly safe, the people of the Valrauk had build a road, clearly marked and easily followed. They also had inns and shops along that road, in case one had to stop for the night or shop for supplies.

Those Woods were called the Vegwood, or the wood road. The Valrauk road had a name too, the Vegart, which just meant "the road", and it ran through the land, connecting to the Vegut and the Vegat, creating a Y. The Vegut was the road out; and the Vegat was the road in. The locals rarely went anywhere, and made it their business to know who was traveling and why. Triduine safer for it.

Ylva found herself in the Valrauk, sprinting through the Vegwood, feeling every muscle stretching and pulsing as she did. She felt pulled in this direction, and just went with it, as if she couldn't get lost even if she wanted too. She found a cozy place by the Red Ladies Tower to curl up and fell asleep. The Red Ladies Tower, which marked the place where Vegwood ended and the Vegutat Y branched out. Marians Ravens found her there, and Frau Rotham, who lived close by, took the child into her cottage. Lady Marian left right away to fetch the child home.