Legend of the Woods

Episode 8, Wind and Rain

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

“Wind, um, Wind, there are trespassers in the Realm; they didn’t pay for safe passage. Um, um, duty calls,” a tall thin wisp of Cirrus clouds said. It was standing at the side of a massive pile of swirling leaves, dirt, twigs, plastic and paper trash, and glints of light that every so often flashed as if the sun were peeking through dark clouds.

A great moan came from the mass. “Trespassers, in the realm without paying for safe passage,” the voice eerily loud but whispery as if someone were yelling through a tornado. The mass moved and churned.

“Oh, dear, yes, sir, yes sir, on the Trail Less Traveled, sir,” Cirrus said.

“I hate being woken from my dreams,” roared Wind, the sky’s foundations shaking.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” the wisps of clouds said as it was blown away.

Wind roared and moved, back and forth first from the north, then from the south around to the east, gathering the Cumulonimbus clouds from all corners of the farm. Wind new Rain was hiding in those clouds somewhere, and if he had to be miserable, his favorite accomplice would share in his misery.

“Rain, wake up, you lazy dog; there are trespassers in the Realm. They failed to pay for safe passage.” Wind’s gravelly caterwauling whisper, boomed.

Rain, ungratefully woken from his dreams of evaporating ice, rubbed his hands together and clapped. With a flash of lightning, Wind rumbled with laughter that echoed across the sky. Rain clapped again. A flash.

Lisa Frilarium ran from the garden to the barn looking for the candles.

“Why did you wake me, you undulating ball of filth,” Rain spat the words with contempt at Wind.

“Trespassers,” Wind swatted the rain toward the horses and riders on the Trail Less Traveled.

“I was having a wonderful dream; you spoiled it,” Rain lashed out at Wind’s face and rubbed his hands together with fury.

Wind’s blustery laugh sent rain to the mountains enraging the peaceful streams that gushed the excess down into the river, which swelled with frothy gyrations.

Rain clapped, and Wind’s laughter rolled through the trees gathering the loose leaves and twigs. A flash.

Mr. Peal and his horse were in the river, an onslaught of water surprising them as they crossed the bridge. The cowboy hung on to the bridge with his left hand and held his horse with his right. “Keep swimming, Topper; it will be over soon,” he said. Topper, the horse, whinnied in distress.

Wind and Rain danced about hurling insults at each other, Rain clapping, wind rumbling in laughter, blowing and billowing. Rain clapped, wind rumbled, and lightning flashed.

Clarisa, Abby, and Willie ran down the twisted path; the wind blew, making the map difficult to see. Raindrops periodically wetted the girl’s cheeks. Back at the barn, Lisa Frilarium dawned the headlamp and walked over to the globe. Poddarius, Vreylil, and the other Caddo were forced off their horses. The Trail Less Traveled was broad and long, the countryside surrounding it, fields of freshly planted corn. Wind and Rain brutalized the group. The horses, in their distress, pulled free of their riders and ran into the fields, and quickly became mired in the mud. The cowboy and his horse hung on.

“Brevlodar!” Poddarius screamed into the wind. Wind laughed, the sky rumbled, and Poddarius’s plea whirled about on the wind looking for its intended recipient.

“Garr!” the cowboy yelled.

“Humm,” Garr stirred in his monstrous lounging chair maid of toothpicks.

The other Gremorions lay about; two played chess on a chessboard made of toothpicks. The others were joined together, forming a vaulted chamber of vines. Outside, wind and rain buffeted the shelter.

Rain swept across the fields of corn; Wind pushed the debris of a thousand calm days along with him. Vreylil and the other Caddo began a chant and a dance of calmness, barely able to remain standing.

“Oh no, you don’t, you pesky people of the woods,” Wind screeched, shaking off the calm.

Rain sputtered, thinking of the soothing heat of a dream where ice melted. Then Wind rung the dinner bell at the estate with a tree branch; this angered Rain, who hated the sound of the bell. He clapped his hands, Wind rolled with laughter, another flash.

Lisa Frilarium opened the umbrella and stepped into the storm. Clarissa and Abby took the tent from Willie’s back and pressed the green button on the side of the box. It sprung open. They took shelter inside from the storm that shook the fabric so intensely that the girls felt as if they would die.

“Brevlodar!” Abby Screamed.

“Mr. Peal!” Clarisa screamed.

“Garr, let me in, you lazy weed,” Brevlodar thumped a fist against the vine enclosure of the Gremorians.

“Weed,”

“Weed,”

“Garr the weed,” echoes sounded within the chamber. Gremorians laughed at Garr being called a weed, stood.

“Who is that insulting the Guardians of the Realms of mystical beings?” Garr asked.

“Mystical beings,” Began echoing within the shelter.

“Brevlodar,” the watcher said.

“Brevlodar,” joined the echoes within.

“Let the hoity-toity in, its storming out.” The heavy-set gremorian with a mossy beard said.

An opening appeared where Brevlodar was pounding; he fell in, rain fell through like a waterfall, the wind whistled through the space bringing whispers of trespassers, girls in trouble, and drowning horses. All the gremorians perked up.

“Garr, Mr. Peal is in trouble; he and his horse need you at the river bridge; I have to help Poddarius. It is urgent; please help. Open up. I have to go,” Brevlodar commanded.

The opening reappeared, and Brevlodar exited and was buffeted about by the raging storm. Nevertheless, he pressed on toward The Trail Less Traveled.

Garr sat down. “What about the cowboy?” The one Abby called Mossey said.

“What about him?” Garr asked.

Wind blew in great gusts; whirlwinds sprouted and touched the ground. Rain pelted the Caddo dancers and Poddarius, continued to yell for Brevlodar. The name Brevlodar enraged Wind.

“On no, you don’t, you nosy Gnome.” Wind whistled and raged against Rain, who clapped. Rain’s claps amused Wind; the air and ground rumbled in his joy. A flash of lightning.

Rosie held the umbrella, Lisa lit a candle, and Al held onto the wall, his legs pointing straight out like a windsock on a tall building. Clarisa and Abby screamed Willie bleated, the tent rose and fell in the billowing gusts of Wind. Brevlodar weaved in and out of the wind currents; the rain pelted him. Mr. Peal’s grip slipped.

“Don’t give up, Topper; we’ll get through this,” Harry said.

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 to ignore the price of safe passage.

He heard his grandfather’s words, Poddarius Frilarium the V, “Breaking the laws of the Mystic Realms intentionally, cause 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.

Wind bellowed his joy across the land, and the Great Oak swayed and creaked. Rain clapped, Wind rumbled, a flash.

Candles lit, and Al popped a cracker into his mouth and chewed. Then, finally, the sun broke through the clouds. Clarisa and Abby looked at each other and hugged. Outside the tent, devastation strewed its trash across the countryside.

“Map, show us the Twisted Path to the Garden of the Gnomes,” Clarisa said. The map zoomed and faded, spun and focused.

“Oh no,” Clarisa said.

“What Claree?”

“The storm must have blown us into the air, and we landed on the wrong path.”

Another burst of sun broke through the clouds. Lightning flashed far off, and the thunder rumbled across the sky. Abby smiled, “I think we will be OK, Claree.”

Rain clapped, a flash of lightning.

Lisa took a deep breath looking at Rosie, “Are they safe now.”

“As safe as you and I can make them dear. There are always consequences for entering without paying.”

“Garr, I think Topper the horse is in deep water. Can I go help her?” Mossey asked.

“I guess. But we are Guardians, not rescue rangers. Remember that.” Garr said.

“Deep Water, help her,” echoed around the interior of Guardians’ refuge.

“Shut up, the lot of you. If you want to go, go.”

Before long, Garr sat on his toothpick chair; he was alone. He looked to the sky where Wind and Rain troubled each other with snide comments and evil scowls. “Trespassers,” Garr growled. Then closed his eyes.

Willie bleated. Garr’s eyes opened. “Willie? Don’t worry, boy, Uncle Garr is coming.”

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.

Lisa, Halpus, Rosie, and Heydrick Merkers sat down at the table in the formal dining room. The Caddo attendants serving them.

“Lisa, my dear, great work in the garden. Thank you.” Heydrick said.

“Why did you send my daughters off? I didn’t want them involved in this, neither did Poddarius.” Lisa said.

“Mrs. Frilarium, Lisa. Poddarius knows in his heart that it must be. 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.”

To Be Continued

Episode 9, Garr and the goat, can be found here.

You can Find Episode 7, Twisted Paths 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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