Aergar
As Ada swung the finishing blow to the slave trader's head, few might have noticed the vine that crept across the road and entwined itself about the man's legs like a python traps its prey. He may have blocked that hit had this not distracted him, and as he fell the ground beneath him shifted and several sharp root-ends rose up from the earth. The man's weight was against him and he was impaled. The roots seemed to grow up inside of him and burst from his mouth, eyes, nose, and ears, engulfing first his head and quickly the rest of his body. The mass of these earthy tendrils sliding one over another looked like some kind of nightmarish snakes' nest. Like a monster of the deep, it crushed the body. Bones snapped, limbs were pulled apart, blood seeped through and was quickly drunk up by the thirsty roots. It all happened within the span of about thirty seconds and before anyone could think to move an inch the body was swallowed up by the ground. The dirt settled, and the road was as it was before but for a bit of disturbed soil roughly the size of a man.
Aergar appeared, standing beside the trader's wagon. Or perhaps he had been there this whole time, but no one had noticed. It was hard to tell with him. As eyes turned toward him he grinned innocently. "Dirty," he gave them all a skeptical look, "What an unfair comparison. A creature like that compared to dirt, which infinitely more useful to the world. But now I suppose there is no difference at all." He shrugged and turned round to loot the wagon. Surprisingly, there were quite a few valuables that blackguard had managed to get his hands on. A lot of it was worthless too, cheap baubles and fake jewels. A pile of rods, staves, and walking sticks was in one corner. Some beautifully carved. One in particular was old and grey, with a long crack running its twisted length, but its pommel was inlaid with a yellow spinel, the gem bore the same deep amber color as the imp's eyes. It attracted his attention so he yanked the old stick out to get a better look.
At his touch the staff seemed to shiver, though he may have just imagined it. However, when he touched the spinel the staff suddenly came to life. Not in a really visible way, but Aergar being attuned to things such as trees and other flora could feel a life force inside this walking stick. Gradually, almost unnoticeably, the aged, ash-colored wood took on a kind of sheen, and the crack that marred it slowly closed leavening smoothly polished wood. "How curious," he muttered to himself, turning it over in his hands, "I think I'll keep you." With the staff in hand he crawled out of the smelly cart, seeming to notice the children for the first time, Fritz among them. Ada was trying unsuccessfully to comfort the poor little fae girl.
Kirin was barely intelligible, still so shocked and traumatized the young girl could do little more than cry. Tears streaked her face and her nose ran terribly. She trembled in Ada's arms, not sure what she should do. Run away? Accept the embrace? She was so confused she couldn't decide at the moment, and did nothing. When she regained some of her sense and looked around she found that her perpetrator had vanished. She heard Aergar's voice but didn't understand his words, though his tone suggested to her that he had something to do with the man named Benjamin's sudden disappearance.
She peeked around Ada's shoulder and saw him climbing out of the trader's wagon with a staff he hadn't had before. He stood in the road then, looking at them all and leaning on his newest possession. He seemed taller, somehow. A ray of sunlight pierced the canopy and fell on his face, reflecting off his golden horns and fair skin. He was so strange, even for a fae.
"You again?" Aergar cocked his head at Fimion, who had joined them. His attention turned to the recently freed slaves, just children, "And then what of these," he swept his hand to encompass the half-a-dozen ragamuffins who were huddled together, eyeing their rescuers with wary eyes. Planting the end of the staff firmly on the ground he used it to vault over to them, and then knelt to look the smallest one in the eye. The little girl was trembling even more than Kirin, but her lips were pursed and she was trying very hard not to cry. He frowned. There was something odd about them but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. They were all bound together at the wrists by one long rope.
"Fritz," he scolded, reaching to untie one of the knots, "You've got that shiny new knife, don't you know how to--" his words were cut short but an exclamation of surprise. Perhaps the first time he had genuinely been caught off-guard in some time. As soon as the tip on his finger touched the rope he felt a surge of energy being drained from him. He gripped the staff tightly to keep from collapsing but this did nothing to lessen the effect. The quivering child in front of him seemed to… change. He thought he was hallucinating, but her eyes were getting bigger and bigger, moving toward the side of her head. No, it was her nose that was growing, pushing out, and sprouting… whiskers? She was shrinking, changing color. No, that was fur spreading across her body, covering her from head to toe, and lastly a bushy tail appeared as she shrank out her her ragged clothes. Perched in front of him was a small brown squirrel, still trembling, and staring wide-eyed up at him before turning and darting off into the forest. But it wasn't just her, the others were also changing, morphing into some other form. It was impossible, but the imp couldn't help but stare in awe and horror. Awe because he had only ever heard a few stories of magicians changing humans into animals, and horror because of the energy that was being sapped from him as it happened.
The next girl, a little ginger child, had become a young fox with silky red fur. Another bore the black and white stripes of a skunk, and the next became a hare. Lastly the tallest girl, the one with the badly bruised face who'd had the courage to attack her cruel master. She fell forward onto her arms, which became slender, delicate legs. Within moments she was a yearling fawn, staring at them with big brown eyes. Unlike the others who had quickly fled and disappeared, she lingered, finally making eye-contact with Ada and bowing her graceful head before turning round and bounding off in the direction her sisters had gone. Everyone was left dumbfounded, especially Aergar who no longer had the strength even to kneel and toppled forward onto he ground. The staff fell from his hand and rolled a few inches away, regaining its original aged appearance, complete with the crack running its length.
Aergar looked to be in pretty poor shape, his fair complexion even paler than usual, and dark circles had formed under his eyes. He looked at least twenty years older, in human terms. Feebly he scratched at the earth with his long nails, tapping into a knotty tree root just below the surface. Slowly, gradually, the color returned to his face, the life to his eyes, and his youthful appearance was restored as the forest lent him the energy he needed to recover. However, a number of trees nearby wilted from the drain, and he whispered an apology under his breath.
Shakily he got to his feet again, stubbed, and picked up the staff again, gingerly, as if it were a venomous snake. As before, it hummed to life and its appearance changed to look new as when he had first touched the gem. He stared at the others, especially Ada, genuine confusion on his face. He took a step forward, stumbled, caught himself. He had the strongest urge to throw the staff away, but another part of him wouldn't let go. He examined it again, searching for an explanation. There were no runes or other inscriptions. It was carved of wood, but he could not identify from which tree it might have come from. The gem seemed to have been the source of its strange qualities, but it looked just like any ordinary cut stone, nothing especially remarkable. It seemed Aergar's entire countenance had changed, he'd grown very solemn. In fact, he was filled with a deep sadness all of a sudden. Old memories were stirring up in his mind and they disturbed him. In fact after just a few moments he could no longer bear it and tossed the staff in Ada's direction. Again, it became a lifeless old stick with a crack, and when she picked it up it remained that way, even when she touched the stone.
The second it left his grasp it was as if a great weight had been lifted from Aergar's shoulders. He shrugged again, indicating the knotted rope on the ground surrounded by piles of rags where the little girls had once stood. "That wasn't me," he said, shaking his head. He waved his hand at the staff. "Keep that, I don't want it." It was a lie, for even though he felt lighter now, every fiber of his being wanted to pick it up again, see what else it could do, though it had nearly killed him the first time around. And why shouldn't he? It wasn't reacting to Ada in any way, only him. But he was still so troubled and confused he was loathe to touch it again. Shaking his head he sprinted off the road and leapt into the trees, vanishing once again.
Kirin looked questioningly from Ada, to Fritz, to Fimion, and back to Ada again. "What happened to him, to them?" she wondered, still quite shaken up. She stood away from Ada and picked up the funny doll, Duplo, from the ground where it had fallen. She then ran to Fritz and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly and hugging the doll close to her. So far he was the only one who hadn't done anything to frighten her. Fimion didn't really count, since she didn't really know him. "Fritz," she whimpered, lip trembling, "I'm scared. I want to go home."
