It was true, her training didn't exactly prepare her for negotiating with the fae, especially a powerful unseelie. They were so very unpredictable, and possessed abilities that were difficult to understand at the best of times.
Allowing Sir Fionn to do a lot of the work here was probably their best path to victory.
"You're right, Sir Fionn's experience here is probably one of our greatest tools," she responded with a nod. Lady Fiadh as proof, after all.
"Oh, I don't know for sure, but if you want to sneak in to talk you don't need someone important! Someone important would be nicest, they could do it all on their own, but if you get enough of the local fae, they could get us in! I help to do that sometimes, it's fun to set up surprises," the green figure said with an authoritative nod, "Or you could break in! But that would be hard. You need a special spell for it, otherwise you'd be aiming, and all you'd do is make a hole in the forest."
"I don't think I need to elaborate much, but she's right," Arken added, "A strong enough mage can penetrate a fae realm, but that kind of aggressive action might ruin our chance of regaining the Duke's wits."
He let out a heavy sigh.
"Fae are so very difficult to deal with. If it truly comes to it, the full might of the college might be required, but for now I'll place faith on negotiations."
The path forward was relatively clear, as far as Fanilly was concerned. Something that she was thankful for, when it came to dealing with such bizarre circumstances. They needed to seek the assistance of either many local fae, or a single powerful one, in order to enter the Moonlit Queen's fae realm and treat with her. Ideally, they would find some path to regaining the Duke's wits without any kind of fight.
But there was one more thing they needed first.
"Lady Fiadh, Lord Arken," Fanilly began, "Can you help us pinpoint the location of the fae realm?"
The answer was, of course, yes.
Fiadh was a niyar, so she was at relatively low-risk navigating a forest on her own, that much was true. And Lord Arken was the court mage.
But it still made little sense to simply abandon them to whatever could be roaming in the deeper Brennan Forest regardless.
The change in scenery from the friendly surroundings of the town to the darker, deeper portions of the forest was rather stark. Here the trees grew taller, and in the slowly-decreasingly light the shadows were growing longer and deeper. The branches above stretched overhead, forming a ceiling of leaf and wood that obscured all but the bare minimum view of Reon's light.
It was a somewhat unsettling atmosphere. Tales of headless riders who hunted travelers were a favorite amount the various stories told about the deeper parts of Brennan Forest. Strange disappearances, unfriendly spirits, and all manner of creatures were said to dwell within such places.
But as Knight-Captain, Fanilly could not, would not, allow old ghost stories to influence her heart.
They had a duty to the crown to fulfill.
It was by Lady Fiadh's guidance they'd come this far, with Lord Arken's assistance to verify her direction. With Sir Gerard's party scouting a different locale, this allowed them to cover a considerable area. Given that the Moonlit Queen was apparently a 'neighbor' or some sort it was somewhat hopeful that the fae realm they sought would not be even deeper and more distant in the forest.
She took a deep breath.
The atmosphere had only grown stranger since they entered. Something about this place was making a tingle run up and down the Knight-Captain's spine that couldn't be attributed to simple unease. The trees seemed to grow more twisted and gnarled, here. And---
Fanilly paused.
"Close formation. Form a barrier around Lady Fiadh and Lord Arken," she ordered, her right hand wrapping its fingers around the hilt of her sword.
It wasn't just a trick of the fading light. It wasn't just the atmosphere getting her.
It was typical to start seeing patterns where they were not when one was uneasy.
But the gnarled faces upon the nearby trees were more than that.
This sensation of being watched wasn't merely the symptoms of an anxious heart.
"And here I thought I was the only one who felt it, but it looks like you don't need my warning," commented Arken, raising his hand. As he spoke, his bag opened, and the black shape that emerged unfurled into a orichalcum-tipped rod of wood.
The air itself had already become heavier.
Something else was here.
Despite Dame Yael's misgigivings, the walk to Thomlin's rest was uneventful.
The white tree that had stood since Duke Thomlin's heroic death remained, tall and resilient, marking the location. It was otherwise somewhat sparse, but the aessyr(still devouring the pastry) pointed just beyond it, deeper into the forest.
It was here that shadows began to grow longer, but given the place was apparently frequented by the miniscule fae, it was unlikely it was normally so very dangerous.
However---
Past Thomlin's Rest, the forest's atmosphere seemed to shift. At first, as the knights passed back into the denser foliage, it was merely a heaviness. An additional weight upon their shoulders, as if the air itself had grown thicker.
But it wasn't just that, now. The denseness of the air was being accompanied by a deepening of the shadows. While the light was fading, yes, it was not yet dark.
Yet, the shadows now seemed almost pitch black, stretching light groping hands outwards. By this point, the uneasy aessyr who had been leading the way now drifted back, getting closer to Sir Gerard and growing increasingly silent.
The thick darkness only grew thicker. The weight of the air only grew heavier.
But now, there was a new sensation. A strange, gnawing feeling, an emptiness that permeated the forest.
It was as if the air itself was hungry.
"... H-here..."
The aessyr had now situated herself on Sir Gerard's shoulder, huddled as close as she could.
Fae homes were unusual. While fae realms could only be created by the most powerful of fairies, something similar could occur with the weaker forms as well.
Particularly, in the creation of their housing. A large and old tree, for example, could become a home for aessyr. Despite no construction taking place, a space could be created inside with an entrance visible only when desired, furnished with items of interest to the diminutive fairies.
That appeared to be the case here, if this tree represented the aessyr's home.
But one of its largest branches had been torn, ripping bark and wood free and casting it to the ground. Some of the bark appeared withered and dry, despite the fact the damage had to have occurred recently. A number of shining coins, a thimble, a ring, several shiny stones, and many other items lay scattered across the ground nearby. They were surrounded by patches of blackened, wilted plants and dead grass.
While no home was visible, it was clear this was where the aessyr had lived.
It was the site of the attack.
"... Whatever it was, it was strong," Sir Caulder mused, grimly, approaching the limb, "This is an old tree, but the branch was torn down so easily. And this atmosphere..."
The aessyr was hugging herself tightly, now.
"Th-that's... it's just like when it came, everything feels hungry..." she half-murmured, "And then it swallowed up Enfys, and... and---"
She cut herself off and froze when the leaves above rustled.
Something was moving above. As it moved, brown, dead leaves drifted to the ground.
It was descending.
The shape that emerged was far larger then even a huge horse, at least in overall length and height. But its black body was emaciated, excessively thin, ribcage visible through its stretched flesh. Its long, grasping limbs navigated down the tree, bark drying and dying with its touch as if the life was being drained away from it. The further it descended, the more it became clear just how long the creature was, with at least five pairs of lengthy, grasping limbs lining its body and more likely further up in the withering tree.
Its head was elongated and broad, its mouth unnaturally wide to an almost absurd degree, with small white eyes near the very tip of its upper jaw.
As it approached the knights, its maw gaped open. It was lined with thousands of tiny, needle-like teeth, but aside from that was its jaw stretched wider and wider all that could be seen was darkness.
That gnawing, desperate hunger in the dark atmosphere suddenly made sense.
A monster of gluttony was here, an unnatural and twisted creature that always hungered and could never be satisfied.
From its open maw, shadow, human-like hands began to emerge, perched on spindly black arms. They stretched towards the knights and the panicked aessyr.
The Gannek's drive to devour was unceasing.
