Chapter IV: Realization

Fiera again denies the Mystic Forest's existence to Zanzibar, but a chance encounter soon changes her mind.

            There were even more of them... the humans. Over the next five years, their numbers in the World of Fae increased slowly so that someone unaware may have overlooked it without a second thought, but Fiera was a very aware elf and she took notice. It disturbed her. There was supposed to be a very thick boundary between the Astral and Material Planes. Occasionally, a few humans broke through to the Astral Plane and there were even a few small settlements of humans here, but for the most part humans and Fae-like races stayed away from each other. This many humans roaming about on her realm unnerved Fiera and, the Lady forbid, she would ever admit it, frightened her. Something isn't right here, Zanzibar, Fiera told her unicorn friend late one night with an anxious sigh.

            Indeed, the growing human population has been troubling me as well, he replied, a note of worry edging into his telepathic voice. There are boundaries between our realms for good reason. If the humans continue to break through to the World of Fae, it could upset the tender balance of all the worlds. Fiera stared into the small, crackling fire which cast a dim glow upon the eighty year old elf's smooth, youthful face. Zanzibar was right. What was happening here?

            Something is causing them to leave wherever they came from. What do you suppose it could be? she asked him, laying down on her back to look up at the billions of glowing stars pinpricking the black night sky. Zanzibar too, rested his slender muzzle upon the ground by his fore hooves before responding.

            Well, if the stories are true... he said slowly, only to receive a dark scowl from Fiera.

            Zanzibar, I have had it with your delusional Mystic Forest talk! she snapped, propping her head up on her palm and leaving her long silver hair which now reached down to her calves to trail upon the rough forest ground in a single braid beginning at the nape of her neck. They are nothing more than stories! It does not exist! Zanzibar eyed the indignant elf heavily with an irritatingly patient stare.

            Can you think of a more plausible explanation, then? he asked and Fiera actually laughed. It was a very dry, sarcastic laugh but a laugh all the same.

            I can think of a thousand more plausible explanations! she argued in a tone of outburst. Their food supply on their realm may be dwindling, they may simply be breeding too quickly or-

            Or dragons have driven them out of the Mystic Forest, Zanzibar argued straight back. Utterly exasperated, Fiera sat up and gave the unicorn a penetrating glare that would frighten even the strongest, bravest warrior.

            Very well, even if your fantastical tales were true and you were correct, why are there not more faeries and elves as well? What of the pixies and nymphs? The tales of the Mystic Forest claim that all of these races dwell there alongside humans, she retorted, sure that she had won this argument once and for all and that she would no longer have to listen to her friend's ridiculous fantasies but of course, Zanzibar was just as stubborn as Fiera.

            Fae-like races are quite common on our realm. This is their natural home; no one would notice an increase in their numbers within our realm. Besides, you know as well as I that Fae-like races do not flee as easily as humans. A human's first instinct when threatened is to run away, while races of the Astral Plane will stay and fight at all costs, he told her matter-of-factly, but what Zanzibar had said stirred up Fiera's dark memories. She was taken back to that day when she herself had fled, rather than aid her parents in protecting her village on the day the dragons attacked. She had acted as a human and the thought and realization of this made her ill. Humans were weak, lust-filled creatures who would not bat an eyelash at cruelly using a little girl to satisfy their own selfish needs. Fiera? Are you well? You're trembling, Zanzibar's voice broke through her mind, filled with concern. Fiera snapped back into reality and shook her head slightly to gather her thoughts.

            Yes, she replied. I am merely weary of all this ludicrous talk. Rest well, Zanzibar, she said in a voice of finality, clearly implying that the conversation was over. As she laid her head down on the hard-packed earth, a shout echoed among the trees. Both Fiera and Zanzibar were on their feet in seconds, looking around intently for the source of the noise. A haggard-looking elderly man stumbled out from the dense woods and collapsed at Fiera's feet.

            Another human, Zanzibar observed. Indeed, the man was a human. Fear and mistrust bubbled up inside of Fiera once more towards the human sprawled at her feet, but she forced herself to remain in control of the situation. After all, it was what she did quite well. Without lowering her bow and arrow, Fiera nudged the old man in his shoulder, which he returned with a groan.

            "You, human. Why are you in the World of Fae?" she asked rather harshly. Fiera did not know how to show tenderness and it was usually an emotion she preferred to keep in check. The man gasped with pain, clutching a deep wound in his side. Upon closer inspection, Fiera saw that he was badly burned and bleeding profusely from several deep gashes. The human spoke in a foreign tongue Fiera did not understand. She had picked up enough bits and pieces of other languages besides her native Elven to know that the language he spoke was called English and that it was a common language in the Material Plane; however, she could only make out fragmented words and phrases from him. The man fell onto his side and choked out one thing Fiera could understand, though she had not the faintest clue as to why she understood this phrase and nothing else.

            "...Mystic Forest..." he whispered. Eyes wide, Fiera forgot her lingering fear of humans for that moment and grasped his shoulders, looking intensely into the dying man's face.

            "What is it? What about the Mystic Forest? Speak, old man!" she demanded desperately, but without another word, his murky brown eyes glazed over and his body was still. His soul had departed to rest in the Realm of the Dead; not that Fiera believed such grotesque, cruel creatures were capable of having souls. Slowly letting go of the man's shoulders, Fiera fingered her long braid and heaved a disheartened sigh. Zanzibar trotted up and gently nudged his friend's shoulder with his elegant horn.

            Do you believe now? he asked her simply. The question was not an attempt to gloat or to seek assurance that he had been right all along. It was merely a necessary inquiry that required an answer in order for them to move onward. Her eyes scanning over the charred, bloodied shell of what had once been a person lying in front of her, it all suddenly made sense to Fiera. She nodded numbly, her expression unfocused and unreadable.

            Yes... she whispered.