Legend of the Woods

Episode 10, Poddarius Frilarium and Mort, Lord of the Mystic Realms

Thank you, Christine Graves and Ravyne Hawke, for the Writing Prompts that inspired this story. Promptly Written is a wonderful publication.

Rain clapped and laughed along with Wind, who blew buckets of water down upon The Trail Less Traveled. The horses were up to their bellies in mud and resigned to their fate, laying motionless now. Poddarius whispered the name Brevlodar, fearful that he may have made a deadly decision in his haste. Ignoring the price of safe passage was a foolish thing to do. He heard his grandfather’s words, Poddarius Frilarium the V.

“Breaking the laws of the Mystic Realms intentionally, causes vibrations that can crack the foundations of the world. As a benefactor and protector of the realm, you must never do this.”

“Brevlodar, I need your help,” He screamed again.

The Caddo dancers feeling the intensity of the storm weakening, became invigorated, their dance more lively, their chant a little louder. Still, lightning flashed, the horses neighed and whinnied in distress, and the wind blew Brevlodar about like a child. Then, he shouted when he was close enough to the titans of disaster.

“Wind, The price for safe passage has been paid by another for the trespassers. The Gnomes use their magic to bring calm, do you see,” with that, a beam of sun hit the mighty force in the eyes.

“Rain, will you end the onslaught of water? So many within the woods and the Mystic Realm suffer due to the downpour. The price for safe passage was paid by proxy,” Brevlodar spoke to the great beings that thrashed about in the sky, releasing the storm’s fury.

Rain looked about. Seeing the gnome magic penetrating the clouds and clearing the sky far off, he yawned and stretched. As he did, Wind’s onslaught tore this cloud from that and pushed them apart, allowing the sun to shine upon the Trail Less Traveled. However, the wind was an uncontrollable force, slow to be mellowed.

“Wait, you lazy good for nothing dribble, come back here.” Wind said, then clapped his hands. Lightning flashed, and thunder boomed. Rain floating away giggled and yawned. He did love Wind’s light show.

“Wind, Let’s give this trespasser one last warning so he’ll never ignore the realm’s rules again. Blast them with your powerful gusts, blow them off their feet, make them close their eyes, huddle together, and hold on to each other for fear of being blown to the Lost Lands,” Brevlodar said.

“Hmmm. Good idea; I’ll teach these trespassers not to ignore the natural order.”

With that, the great mass of wind began to undulate, twist, turn, and roll, lightning flashed and flashed again, over and over, and the rumble of thunder vibrated the ground. Brevlodar dove down to the group of men.

“Poddarius, Vreylil, men of the woods, come together, sit, and hold on to one another. This storm’s last breath of wind is coming, and it will be ferocious.”

Then the winged keeper of the realm spun about in the air with immense speed. Funnel clouds sprung from his location, reaching out to each horse, lifting them from the mud, and setting them next to the men. The men led the horses to lie down, and they all huddled together as the wrath of wind increased and blew harder. Brevlodar smiled as the fierce wind wicked the puddles of water from the ground and dried the clothing and skin of the men and horses. The group of men and their beasts of burden held on to one another for dear life, terror, and panic gripping their souls. They dared not open their eyes, for it seemed that the force could rip even the hair from their heads. Finally, after a significant length of time, a calm fell upon the land, and everyone sighed. Wind floated high about the foundations of the sky and rested. Brevlodar landed, and the group of men stood getting their horses to their feet and calming them with kind words.

“Thank you Brevlodar,” Poddarius said.

“Greeting Vreylil and men of the Caddo. Peace be with you.”

Vreylil’s men bowed slightly, thanked Brevlodar, and then tended to the horses.

Poddarius, Vreylil, and Brevlodar slowly walked town the Trail Less Traveled, talking.

“Poddarius, how in the world could you be so irresponsible? Trespassing? Did you forget everything your father taught you? Vreylil, How could you have let this happen?”

Both men, humbled by the storm, remained silent.

“We are lucky Ms. Lisa was there and kept her wits about her. With the guidance of Halpus and Rosie, she was able to find the candles and make payment for passage by proxy. But unfortunately, the entire Relm was impacted. I had to enlist the Gremorians to aid your daughters. The Cowboy and his horse were almost lost to the river. The destruction spurred the moochers to test the boundaries. That hasn’t happened in over a hundred years.”

“Clarisa, Abby, are they ok? Where are they? Did they meet the Guardians?” Poddarius asked.

“They are. They did. Garr is escorting them back to the homestead. My, you have grown selfish, Poddarius. Your actions have caused great harm, and your mind focuses only on what you find valuable. Vreylil, do you think your brothers would return to the Garden of the Gnomes to light some candles of penance and sing and perform the dance of anamnesis? You and Poddarious can continue forward to see the Lord of the Mystic Realm alone.”

Vreylil nodded, “Of course, thank you, Brevlodar.” Vreylil returned to the others and the horses.

“Now, wait a minute; I will not be chastised like a schoolboy. Heydrick should not have involved my daughters.”

“Your daughters will play the role they are meant to play. You can not change that. The shaman has said it, the stars foretell it, and the birds sing the song. Only the daughters of Poddarius can turn the tides of darkness. The day of Crane and the unfolding of the Straight Path are upon us.”

“No! No. I am going to see Mort. I am going to change this. My daughters are not a thread in the uncaring web of the Mystic Realm, not as long as I have life.”

“This you proclaim, and it just may be that which you call for, as destiny works towards itself.”

Vreylil returned with two horses as Brevlodar flew away. “Poddarius, you must remember all that you were taught. We can not afford another senseless and selfish mistake.”

“Are you with me or not?”

“Yes, my friend, of course, but you must contemplate the consequences before you act.”

“Yes, my friend, yes. Let’s go.”

The two mounted their horses and rode off quickly down the Trail Less Traveled. As with many things in the Mystic Realm, the Trail Less Traveled was nothing like the name implied. It was broad and paved in stone. Long and straight, not often intersected by another wide, paved path that led directly to where it was going. In this case, Poddarius and Vreylil followed the trail to the home of the Mystics and the seat of power, where Mort governed the Mystic Realm. Along the way, the devastation wrought by the storm was visible. As they neared the home of the Mystics, the peoples and beings of the realm were out and about, clearing and cleaning up from the storm. Green apparitions faded red as the pair passed. As they approached the high seat of Mort, the citizens gathered to bear witness to the absent benefactor’s return. Mort sat upon the high seat his counselors gathered near.

“Poddarius, It is good to see you again. However, reports trouble me. Was it really you that entered without paying the price for safe passage?”

“Yes, yes, it was I. I offer my humble apology. Heydrick had manipulated my daughters into bringing you a message. I was in fear for their safety and allowed my judgment to be clouded.”

“So you admit to ignoring the rules you knew existed for haste?”

“Unacceptable breach of law,” one of Mort’s counselors proclaimed.

“Vreylil, were you a part of this?” Mort asked.

“Yes, sir. However, I sent my brothers back to the Garden of the Gnomes to light the penance candles and sing and dance the ritual of anamnesis. They agreed to do this for both Poddarious and me so that we could continue our travel to see you. I ask that you accept this action as our token of penance.”

“Do you accept the ritual performed for you, Poddarius?” The counselor asked.

“I do. Now let us move past this, Mort. I must speak to you concerning my daughters and their involvement in the affairs of the Mystic Realms.”

“Our role, Poddarius, in the destiny of the Mystic Realms will be as they will be; discussing them with any other intention is useless and a waste of time,” Mort said.

“We must secure the release of my brother Steven so he can take upon him the mantel that the shaman places upon my daughters.”

“Poddarius,” Vreylil reached out and touched his friend’s arm. “This can’t be done. You ask for something that is not possible.”

“My lord, He again shows his disdain for the rules that govern the realm. Therefore, I call for the detention of the benefactor,” a counselor who stood near Mort said.

“No, we must not; to detain the benefactor would disrupt his role in our destiny.” A different counselor demanded.

“Detain the benefactor,” Mort proclaimed.

At this, a mass of green mist and ghostly apparitions fell upon Poddarius; they took him to the dungeons and imprisoned him.

“Vreylil, what have ye to say?” Mort asked.

“I wish it could be otherwise, my lord. But the arc of time and mist shall move forward regardless of our actions.”

Vreylil left the square to see to other matters. Poddarius sulked in his cell. Time moved forward.

To Be Continued

You can find Episode 9, Garr and the Goat, here.

© 2022, T. Mark Mangum

I am T.Mark Mangum. From an early age, I was hooked, addicted to the imagined, unfathomable worlds of Star Wars, Star Trek, Conan, the Lord of the Rings, and many others. I love writing fiction tales. I love writing in multiple genres. However, my favorites are Sci-fi and Fantasy fiction. I am a father of six; we have two cats and two dogs. Tabletop gaming is a passion.

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