In the Beginning

"You're a what?" Clara was sitting on some kind of natural chair, woven from a living tree. Vasil sat opposite from her, sipping from a wooden cup. Vasil had retrieved a set of clothes for Clara, who had changed somewhat awkwardly in a side room. Now she almost matched Vasil in their outfits. The clothes were surprisingly comfy, and as she sat there, looking around, it almost seemed familiar. Vasil's bow and arrow sat hanging on the wall behind him, and his cloak next to them. He was now wearing a crown of crystals, and his wings seemed to float gently behind him, fluttering slowly. He took another sip of tea before answering.

"I told you that I am a fairy, that this is a kingdom where magic exists, and the thing that surprises you is that I'm a king?" Vasil shakes his head, and laughs under his breath. "Let me start again then, from the beginning," Vasil smiles, and Clara nods. "In the beginning, there were four kings that ruled this land. Each king had reign over a certain aspect of the world. There was Spring in the east, Autumn in the west, Winter in the north, and Summer in the south." He paused, as if reminiscing. "They all ruled equally, from a palace in the middle of the four Kingdoms, and as time went on, the successor would rise when the time was right." Vasil said, then a darkness crossed his face. "But something happened. The Autumn King disappeared, and the remaining kings began to quarrel over which one caused the disappearance. They built palaces in each of their respective kingdoms, and retreated to rule their own land. There are only three right now and in the king's absence, a darkness has overtaken the land, and I'm afraid to say it has taken over one of the kings as well." He paused, taking a sip of tea. "Summer has fallen, and without that order, the land has fallen into chaos. We here in Spring were once a haven and sanctuary for creatures of all shapes and sizes. Now we are the asylum in which they flee to."

"What can you do?" Clara asked, and Vasil frowned, looking down.

"We've tried everything. But each of us are too stubborn or reclusive to change. I've tried to return to the middle palace but…" He trailed off. "There was an evil so thick there you could cut it with a dagger." He put down his cup, and looked into Clara's eyes. "But there is still one last hope." Vasil stood walking out of the room, and Clara stood as well, hurrying to catch up. Vasil, reached a large wooden door and pushed, entering into a dark room. He waved his hand again and the ceiling opened up, revealing the sun and open sky. They were in a large library, and Vasil scanned the books, finally pulling an old and tattered book from the shelves. He turned, a table forming from roots as he placed the book down.

"There is a prophecy," Vasil starts, and Clara inadvertently laughs.

"There's always a prophecy." Clara pauses awkwardly, reddening under Vasil's gaze. His eyes seemed to pierce her soul. Vasil looked at her strangely, tilting his head. "Nevermind," Clara adds.

"There is a prophecy," Vasil repeats, opening the book and reading through the pages. "That when the Kingdoms are in desperate need of hope, the Outsider will come and bring together the broken pieces to restore Order to the Kingdoms."

"Is that exactly what it says?" Clara asks, and Vasil stammers, sounding much more flustered.

"Well no, not exactly, the translation is probably a little bit off and, well," Vasil talks quickly, and Clara laughs again.

"It's fine, I'm just messing with you." Clara says. "So what does it have to do with me?"

"I think you're the Outsider."

"Me?" Clara exclaims, and Vasil nods.

"We haven't had anyone stumble through those circles in almost one hundred years," Vasil says. "I think that if we are able to put together the four broken pieces, then it will bring back the Fall King." Vasil closes the book, picking it back up and replacing it onto the shelf.

"Do you even know where the pieces are?" Clara asked, and Vasil turned back to her, his eyes sparkling in the sun. For a moment, she forgets how to breathe.

"There are four pieces, each held by a seperate king. That way no one king can be too powerful."

"Then why can't you just go get them?" Clara asked, shaking the fog from her head, exasperated by Vasil's strange and distracted answers.

"The pieces are locked away, and only the Outsider can activate each piece, and second…" Vasil paused, his hand resting on the wooden door. "The last piece was lost with the Fall King." He waved once again, the trees covering the ceiling and they were left in darkness for a moment before Vasil opened the door, walking back into the hallway, and Clara followed, now angry.

'Then how are you expecting me to help you find it? I won't even know where to start! If you don't remember," Clara walks ahead of Vasil, emphasizing her words. "I. Just. Got. Here?" Vasil waves his hand in unconcern.

"We'll just get the other three pieces first," Vasil said, and both of them turned as they heard footsteps approaching. Not footsteps, Clara thinks as she turns and sees the approaching creature. Hoofsteps. The satyr bowed as he approached Vasil, and Vasil bowed in return. He was wearing light armor, and carried a pair of daggers on his hip. The satyr seemed to be breathing a little heavy as he glanced quickly at Clara, but then returned his focus to Vasil.

"Your majesty," He began. "It's begun. The Summer King has begun to attack our southern borders." Vasil said something under his breath, then nodded to the satyr.

"Very well. We've prepared for this day. Call for the army, be ready to return the attack within the next few days." The satyr nodded, leaving as suddenly as he appeared.

"We'll need to move quickly then," Vasil looked back at Clara. "The attack from the Southern King complicates this just a little bit." Vasil walked to the wall where his weapon hung, grabbing his cloak. "We will head to the north first, to the Kingdom of Winter." He grabbed his own cloak and then his weapons. "Ruby!" Vasil called, and another fairy flew into the room, her gossamer-like dragonfly wings buzzing quietly. Clara could only describe her look as "amazonian." She wore light armor and had on decorated arm braces and a short pleated leather skirt, with a quiver hanging by her side. Although she looked quite different from Vasil, she shared that same ethereal beauty. She bowed, and Vasil bowed back. "General," Vasil addressed her, and she nodded, a smirk on her face.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Would you mind retrieving two of my winter cloaks?" Ruby rolled her eyes playfully, then left the room.

"She leads my armies and also knows exactly where I leave all my clothes," Vasil says, absent-mindedly. She returned not long after, and handed him two dark cloaks, their hoods lined with white fur.

"Vasil," Ruby says quietly as she turns to leave. "Are you sure we're ready to face...him?" She looked worried, and Vasil smiled back at her.

"With you leading, there is no need for doubt." She steadied herself, smiling back, then turning and leaving. Something suddenly strikes Clara as strange about Vasil. He can't place it, but he seems...at odds with himself. On one hand, he presents this outwards facade of calm and pristine. But Clara can sense something stirring beneath the surface, can see it swirl in his eyes as he gazes off into the distance. It doesn't frighten Clara, but is unsettling to say the least. Vasil looks over, catching Clara staring once again. "Are you ready for the first piece?" Clara nods, and Vasil hands her one of the cloaks. He leads Clara to a small atrium, a pool of water sparkling in the middle. They pause, and Clara looks over at Vasil.

"And?" Clara asks, and Vasil shrugs.

"This is where the Spring Piece is kept," he points to the water. Clara kneels, putting her hands in the small pool. The water is warm and she closes her eyes. She laughs inwardly, thinking about the ridiculousness of this. She wasn't anyone special, especially not someone that would be a part of a prophecy. But as she swirls her hands around, a sparkle catches her eye. She reaches deeper, pressing the jewel, and the whole pool shifts as the water rapidly drains. Left behind was what looked like a door handle, and Clara pulled it. The bottom of the pool opened up, revealing a small hiding hole, where a set of gauntlets lay, as if they were delicately placed there.

"Woah," Clara said, inadvertently. She reached down, taking them out. They almost seemed to glow, and Clara examined them, she noticed the engravings along the wrists.

"That's Origin," Vasil said, his voice revealing his wonder. "No one's spoken that, let alone understood the language in over two thousand years." He paused. "It's the language of the dragons." Clara laughed.

"Dragons. Are you serious?" She looked at Vasil, who nodded.

"There's probably not any left, but yes, this land used to foster a wide range of dragons." Clara stands back up, handing the gauntlets to Vasil.

They walk outside once again, and Clara now feels silly holding the thick winter cloak in the heat of the sun.

"Don't worry," Vasil says, as if reading her mind. "It's much colder where we're heading." This time Clara rolls her eyes.

"Do you have to be so cryptic?" Clara asks, and Vasil shrugs.

"No," he walks past Clara, pausing to look over his shoulder. "But it's much more fun." Clara gave him a fake laugh, following Vasil as he walked into the thicket of trees.

"So are we going to walk there?" Clara asked, stepping over tree roots and tripping over rocks. "Or are you going to call some other kind of mystical creature?" Vasil kept walking, laughing quietly to himself.

"No," He mused, pausing to graze his fingertips across the bark of a huge oak. "This time we travel through the trees." He hummed, a low noise that seemed to resonate deeper than Clara could hear. "The trees speak," He whispered. "Can you hear them?" Clara closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the forest. She could hear the birds, the leaves rustling, the ebb and flow of running water. She concentrated, letting those sounds fade, and could hear a deep rumbling that echoed through the ground itself.

"What are they saying?" Clara whispered back. She looked over at Vasil, who was now kneeling, one hand planted palm down on the soil.

"They speak of evil seeping into the soil, and blood soaking their roots in the east." Vasil closed his eyes. "They will transport us as far as our border but no further." Vasil stood up. "The passage should take only a few moments." He held out his hands, palms up. "Here," Vasil waited, and Clara got the hint, taking Vasil's hands. They were surprisingly warm and soft, but his grip was strong. "Relax," Vasil said. "There's only a 3% chance we don't reform after this."

"What?" Clara said, startled, but it was too late. As she looked down, she could already feel her hands disappearing, and the roots beneath her feet absorbing his essence.

And just like that, she was standing someplace else, her hands still in Vasil's. As she watched the last of Vasil's hair form, Vasil made a face of surprise.

"Clara, your ear is missing!" He exclaimed, and Clara pulled her hands away, feeling desperately on the side of her head. Vasil began to laugh, and as Clara felt that both of her ears were very much there, she realized what was going on. Vasil burst out laughing. She reached over, pushing on Vasil's shoulder firmly.

"Ha, ha, ha," Clara said, monotone. "Very funny."

"I thought so."

"You think joking around with my first magical experience was funny?" Clara asked, trying to sound annoyed, but her heart jumped. Maybe this Vasil guy did have a little bit of a heart.

"Only a little," Vasil smiled, but before Clara could make another snide comment, they heard something that made Clara's blood run cold. A deep howling filled the air, and it sounded too close to be comfortable.

"The Hounds of Solstace," Vasil said, his voice deathly serious. "We need go." They turned to run but didn't make it that far before a huge black dog jumped out in front of them, teeth snarling. Vasil instantly pushed Clara behind him, drawing his dagger. The dog was all sinew, and it's coat was a shiny onyx black, it's eyes emitted a red fire. Spittle dripped from its maw, and as it stepped closer, Clara realized it was wearing a red collar. It's whip-like tail swung slowly back and forth.

Another growl from behind, and an identical creature appeared. They began to circle as a third hound appeared. Vasil and Clara circled as well, Vasil trying to keep his eye on all three creatures at once.

"On the count of three, I need you to run," Vasil whispered, and Clara tried to protest.

"No, i'm staying here, I can't just leave you to-"

"You don't have a choice," Vasil interrupted, but as he turned back to the Hounds, Clara watched as the first one lunged.