The Reawakening

     "Sir," Jeran glanced over to an equally dirtied Faerie Wocky. "Team Beta is awaiting your orders."

     "My orders are for them to follow your orders." This sent a look of panic across the Wocky's face to which Jeran shook his head. "How can you expect to learn if I have to hold your hand? I know you can do it. I trained you!"

     Their conversation was halted by the appearance of shadowy beasts that weaved in and out of the two like fine thread. Jeran turned toward the direction they came from with a scowl, then back to his ward.

     "They're going for your soldiers' position, Duchess. You have to mobilise!"

     "Sir, yes sir!"

     Gleaming in the patchy sunlight, Jeran's blade collided with one of the black wisps before it could advance past him, then another that attempted to ambush his ally from behind as she made her swift retreat back to her troops. Once both the wisps and the Wocky had disappeared, he reached into a small, velvet sack attached to the belt around his waist and withdrew a stone. He held it close to his mouth as he continued to survey his hazy surroundings.

     "Lisha?"

     The stone began to glow.

     "Hey, Jerry," his sister chirped. "What's up? How're things with the squires?"

     "Peachy," he replied. "So far, the training has gone well on the group offensive front. I've gotten them split into teams now."

     Her smile carried through her voice. "Wonderful! We're going to have the next generation of Meridell Champions soon enough."

     "I agree. If only my protégé had more faith in herself, we might be doing something."

     "Duchess?"

     "She lacks confidence. She relies too much on me to make the orders."

     "Could be she's afraid of accountability, not necessarily leading," Lisha pointed out. "What do you plan to do about it?"

     "Remove me from the equation. Send something that will put me in harm's way. Duchess is the most experienced out of these soldiers-- she'll have to step up to the plate if she wants to see victory."

     "Aye aye, captain!"

     Noise in the woods made Jeran stash his stone away and turn to confront it. He half expected the aforementioned Wocky to make an unsure return, but before he could fully face his visitor, he was thrown toward the ground, his body crashing against his armour. Atop his body stood a three-headed Noil, its pupils deep sanguine and its teeth stained. Smears of blood that decorated its muzzle indicated that Jeran was not the first victim of the beast. Seeing the Mutant Petpet caused panic to flare up in his gut. Fight or flight activated as memories of a war fought some 20 long years ago reared up in his head.

     He grunted but held steadfast onto his sword and attempted to plunge it into the beast's side. It didn't make a direct hit, but it did slice the flesh, causing the Petpet to fall back to its hind legs. The knight had his chance; he scrambled to his feet and bolted out of the small clearing, right back into the depths of the forest that surrounded him on all sides.

     "That was fast on Lisha's part... much too fast! Something's not right!"

     His suspicions were confirmed when he heard charging behind him. His friend was returning for round two.

     No sooner did he turn around was he again faced with his adversary. Only by the skin of his teeth was he able to raise his shield against the foe in defence of its continued charge. Try as he might, he felt moss and soil, and grass bend beneath his feet, mud squelching between his toes as the noil shoved itself against him. Despite the subtle shift in the earth, Jeran held his ground, and much to his surprise, the noil backed off. But luck was not on his side today, for too soon did he relent his defences. Its opportunity in sight, the beast collided into Jeran without hesitation and sent the knight careening into a tree some yards away. The force of the impact knocked his sword from his hand and made his awareness vague at best.

     Vision hazy, Jeran struggled to sit himself upright. Vertigo set in, and soon with it, nausea. Once more did he slump to the ground at the sensation of vomit crawling up his oesophagus. It was then, squinting into the harsh rays of sunlight that appeared through the cracked clouds above did he recognise where the monster had thrown him. Akin to how he had stumbled across Meridell in the first place, he found himself reflecting on the memories of a few days prior, his worries about the noil washed away by his concussion.

     How many times had he passed that tree, he thought to himself?

     Standing valiantly against the Meridellian landscape was a tree that grasped for the whispers of clouds carried by a gentle breeze. In awe of its continued quest to clutch the cotton-like wisps stood Sir Jeran Borodere, the once young Lupe who had saved Meridell's hide from Lord Kass and his conspirators. Life after the war had not been as easy as he had hoped, but with his little sister Lisha back at his side and the will to see Meridell back to its fields of serenity, he found his way to the light at the end of the tunnel of strife.

     He stood in a peaceful Meridell. A Meridell where its citizens prospered, and its international relations flourished. Allies previously too afraid to join hands with the nation due to hostility between it and Darigan found themselves invited to the castle for a round of the finest Krawk Island ale money could buy. A Meridell where young children didn't have to fear famine or war; where they could be kids. Together with his cabinet, Jeran had created the ideal country.

     And though some of his friends moved away, whether to other lands to help those prosper or onto a different plane of existence, this tree remained with him, its roots firmly planted into the soil as was his.

     'It's been a long 20 years, hasn't it?'

     Thoughts of Meridell's prosperity flooding his jostled brain urged him back to the present where the beast now circled him, sizing him up. Grasping the velvet pouch he had called upon earlier to contact Lisha, his hand stumbled around it before decisively landing on the stone within.

     ---

     Invigorated by Jeran's words, Duchess returned to her troops' camp. They all sat around a weakening fire awaiting their next move, their heads perking when she stepped in their presence. Her throat ran dry at their attention, her palms clammy. She swallowed what felt like a lump crawling up her throat, then opened her mouth to speak. Her uncertain words were promptly interrupted.

     "Duchess!"

     Both commander and troops were confused, the Wocky was only alerted to the source of the voice when she caught notice of the glowing rock in a similar satchel to that of Sir Borodere's. She took the rock from its pouch and stared into its glowing pores.

     "Sir...?" A roar over the line sent her fur to its ends. Her eyes widened, and without thought, she panicked. "Sir! What was that?!"

     A grunt of effort preceded his next statement. "Go to the castle! I was ambushed by a giant Petpet-- I fear Meridell is in trouble!"

     "But what about you?!"

     "Meridell and King Skarl are more important! Go, now!"

     "But--"

     The glow disappeared from the stone, indicating that Jeran had ceased his communication-- or the beast had done it for him.

     All eyes now looked to Duchess. Her legs trembled in place, and her stomach churned, her saliva thick as she tried to keep its contents down. Who could've unleashed a giant Petpet into the Meridell woods? Could it really have been Darigan's doing? From what she heard, their peace talks with ambassadors from the floating castle had been steering both nations toward a détente. After 20 long years of constant debates, war scares and disagreements, it seemed that both sides tired of warring with each other.

     So then why would they seek to ambush Meridell? Could it have been an accident? But then, what were the chances of them attacking at a time when Meridell's Champion was away from base? Too many coincidences and questions without answers only served to make Duchess's head swim further as she spiralled into a barely contained frenzy.

     Words from her peers skimmed over her head as she found herself falling back on faint memories of her parents. Like many others, their lives had been stolen by the Second Meridell-Darigan War; her memories of them were foggy and scarce. They were the reason she joined the army-- why she felt obligated to serve her country and why she was so determined to do so. And in her attempt to satisfy the chip on her shoulder, she found a father figure in Jeran himself. Someone who she could go to for advice both about her job and about life. Someone she looked up to greatly, and someone who offered her a sense of comfort that she sorely missed as a child.

     Had she witnessed his death, too?

     Anger replaced her cowardice, and she spun around, nearly knocking over one of her wards. Fire raged in her eyes, newfound vigour in her spirit as she took stock of the forces at her disposal.

     "Listen up," she started, replacing the stone back into her pouch. "Sir Jeran has been ambushed by a giant Petpet. The last people known to have those at their disposal was Darigan Citadel. We have no way of verifying if it was them or not, nor is that our duty at the current moment. Right now, our priority is defending Meridell from a possible ambush and tracking down Jeran."

     She paused and scanned the crowd. Her eyes settled on an Xweetok and a Wocky standing next to each other.

     "Sarah! Danner! Up front!"

     Both stepped to the front upon being summoned and stood, their bodies buzzing as they awaited the next order.

     "Sarah, you lead the way in the air with a light. The fog is dense, and the land units may not return to Meridell in a timely manner without a guide." Duchess turned toward the Wocky next. "Danner, you take the ground forces and use your keen eye to keep track of Sarah's group. Don't get separated. Use the communication stone to update me on the status of Meridell when you return."

     A resounding "Yes ma'am!" echoed from the duo before Sarah's staff became enveloped in a glow, and she was whisked into the skies with a hushed incantation. Danner grabbed his bow from behind him, placed an arrow loosely over the drawstring, then shouted to the remaining soldiers as he dashed into a blanket of fog. The fire of their camp had died out, the distant shouts of her troops and some burnt logs the only indication they had been there at all.

     Left to her own devices, the faerie Wocky turned toward the cloudy skies with a squint. She closed her eyes and closed the world out around her, solidifying her resolve.

     "I'll need to take to the skies myself," she said, her hands moving to detach the cape from her shoulder. With methodical movements she tied the cape around her waist and took a deep breath, opening her eyes with the unfurling of her wings through holes in the back of her armour. "We ride!"

     ---

     Head swimming, ears ringing, each sharp clang making him flinch at every turn, Jeran held his own against the raging noil as would be expected of a knight with such quiddity. Still, as the battle waged on, his injury from earlier reared its own ugly head. His steps unsteady and his stomach still in knots, he was flying by the seat of his pants-- only surviving because the beast had been too stupid to outmanoeuvre him. With a death grip on his shield, he grunted as he was once again slammed into a nearby tree. This time though, he didn't recover so quickly. When the beast moved, he found himself tumbling to the ground. Dizziness made him totter back and forth to the beat of his own breath. Exhaustion weighed his body down. Pain settled within his muscles, preventing him from making a stand against his foe.

     He sat on the ground like a helpless pup.

     One of the Noil's heads spun around and shifted right before his very eyes. In its place was Lord Kass, his sharp, arrogant eyes on Jeran's fallen form once again. Just like they had been when he had been thrown off of the citadel. The Lupe's nagging pain ebbed away, leaving only hollow desperation in its wake.

     "K-Kass--!"

     "How often must you fail before you realise that you're doomed to die for this place, knight?"

     For the first time in 20 years, fear kept Jeran's body cemented to the ground. Paralysed under the scrutinisation of his mortal enemy's return.

     Kass could only laugh at the Lupe's trauma. "Scared, boy?"

     "You--" Jeran fought to lick his lips, the moisture from his mouth abandoned long ago-- "I won't let you harm my country!"

     "You don't have a choice!" The Noil, still with Kass's head attached to the middle of it, became agitated. It shifted in its place and moved its paws as if to prepare to charge once more. "Your fate is to perish with the rest of these worms! To die like the snivelling, Skarl-worshipping dogs you are!"

     It flew forward with blinding speed that it had not before displayed. Within an instant, it was practically on top of Jeran and within another, a wicked set of claws had popped out from one of its paws.

     "No more will you see your cherished land of Meridell."

     He could not even find the strength to lift his shield. Jeran could only watch with horror as his fate befell him. To be blinded, then to die.

     The attack never came. Instead, there was a rush of air, a sharp grunt, then the howl of the Noil. When Jeran looked back up to see what had made the Kass-hybrid change its mind, he only saw the Mutant Noil that had descended upon him before. There was no Eyrie on it to spit taunts at him, only the monster from before Kass's words had consumed him; blocking some of his view, a brilliant pair of faerie wings.

     "You missed," Duchess spat, her breath ragged and pained. Blood ran down her face from her fresh wound. "Just a little more to the right, and you might've gotten my eye."

     "Duchess!" Jeran scrambled up from the ground as best he could. "Thank Illusen, you're here. I can't-- I can't fight it on my own. It threw me into a tree earlier, and I'm in no position to fight."

     "I wouldn't leave you behind, sir," the Wocky said, her head partially turned toward him. "Stand back. Let me handle this."

     "What of Meridell--"

     "I have the others going back to defend it if need be. Soldiers you and I trust with our lives." She fully turned toward the Petpet now, standing straight up as she watched it recover from the blow it had received. "I have it under control."

     Jeran's chest swelled at her certain words and a wide grin spread across his face. "I knew you could do it."

     The Wocky had no time to reply to his sentiment, the noil upon her in an instant. Similar to Jeran, she kept her shield steady for its onslaught of attacks. It launched an all-out assault against her, its claws raking against the metal in front of it tirelessly, its mission to see her destroyed and nothing else. Duchess used this to her advantage. Keeping the shield in her hand until the last possible second, she launched herself into the skies and left the shield where she had been seconds prior. The beast continued to scratch against it until it fell forward to reveal Jeran.

     "Don't look up."

     Too idiotic to comprehend Jeran's words, it stared at him confusedly until it felt something land on its back. Behind its heads sat Duchess, her sword pointed at the one weak spot she knew it had. It may have had three heads, but all of those heads receded into one spinal cord. Try as it might, it failed to knock the Wocky off. Its pathetic struggling only served to make her resolve stronger. She knew what had to be done.

     "Send my regards to Lord Kass."

     ---

     It had taken Duchess and Jeran a few hours longer to return to the castle. They were greeted with resounding praises and concerns for their health, Duchess insisting she was okay while Jeran had the opposite to say. Both ended up in the infirmary, where they were cared for by in-training clerics and interviewed by ravenous reporters seeking to sate the public's curiosity on the sudden high security surmounted by Meridell Castle. Both would claim they knew nothing; it would it stay that way until higher orders said otherwise.

     While Meridell recovered from yet another war scare, a pair of devious, red eyes watched from a window in Darigan Citadel. That Petpet had been no mere accident. Not a farce or a fluke.

     But the reawakening of a beast that had slumbered for 20 long years.

     The End.