​The area in which they stood was deserted now, all but for the Guardian who stood, wings folded upon her back, golden eyes staring unblinking at the man who lay, shivering before her, looking up.

Lisle, after releasing the frantic captives, stood beside Ell. Moss landed upon Lisle’s shoulder and curled her fingers into the folds of Lisle’s tunic, hanging on with all the force of her tiny body. Lisle rested her hand upon her Guardian’s scaled shoulder and felt heat rise into her palm.  Gareth stood over the prone man, watching him, hand on the hilt of the hunting knife that he had tucked into the scabbard at his waist.

The Guardian, shook her wings slightly and moved away a few steps. She settled herself upon her haunches. Slowly she eased her foreclaws along the ground to lie down, as a small hunter will, tail curled about her. At a glance and a nod of her muzzle at the ground beside her, Lisle understood that Ell wanted her to sit down at her side.

Moss clung tightly as Lisle moved to sit down beside Ell.

“Yuh…you’re safe n…n…now.” Lisle whispered to the tiny, green flyer clinging to her shoulder. 

Ell closed her eyes and Lisle did the same, leaning back against her Guardian’s warm, scaled abdomen. It was almost too warm for Lisle's comfort.  Lisle took a breath, trying to calm herself, deeply inhaling the light floral scent that always accompanied her Guardian. She felt her insides still roiling with anger at this small man who had imprisoned Moss and her companion. How dare he try to earn coin from their misery? Her inner vision filled with fire, red and burning.

She felt Ell’s side rumble against her back and heard a low, guttural growl. She knew that Ell too was angry. In an attempt to calm herself, she envisioned an expanse of water, of deep, crystal serenity. Immediately its surface began to boil as if a great fire burned within its depths. Not knowing what else to do, she just watched the seething bubbles, not trying to calm them. The bubbling held her attention and that in itself was calming. Gradually the bubbles subsided, now just rippling the surface. The water calmed.

She felt Ell take a deep, whooshing breath, sounding like the bellows of the smithy she saw here in this village. Feeling peaceful now, she opened her eyes and saw that Ell’s head was turned, eyes open and watching her. Ell reached over and tapped Lisle gently on the forehead with her muzzle as she had done once before.

Lisle closed her eyes and felt herself sink beneath the surface as peaceful waters closed over her. Noting without surprise that she had no trouble breathing, she drifted to the bottom as serenely beautiful white light surrounded and filled her. Looking around herself she saw the Pathways of the One, that vast web of light stretching out in all directions.

There was the man, she realized his name was Terris, a spark upon the web. His colors were a bit muddied at the edges but a clear aqua toward the middle. She wanted to feel angry with him, even here, but it was all too beautiful, so balanced and perfect.
She looked about for Ell and found her blazing light close by. Ell’s light grew into a figure of light, her Guardian, shining from within with that sparkling, cobalt blue light. Lisle stared, riveted by her beauty, floating before her in that space of light.

Gradually an idea formed in Lisle’s awareness. It took shape and grew within her. She understood that the concept came from Ell, dropping whole and complete into her awareness without words. Ell wanted her to communicate this idea with the others. Lisle felt no fear at the thought of communicating something so long and complicated, though normally she would have cringed at the thought.  Rising to the surface, filled with Ell’s message, Lisle opened her eyes. I am Ell's voice, she thought. Feeling calm she turned to the man, Terris.

Using her own words she said, “Terris, you are to come with us on our journey to Guardian Mountain, as our cook. You are to tell your sons that every bit of the coin from the imprisonment of the flyer folk is to be returned. The Guardian will allow your sons to stay here in the village as long as they never again imprison or cause harm to the flier folk. The Guardian will be watching them.” Lisle nodded her head then, message delivered without a stumble. She crossed her arms on her chest in unconscious imitation of Moss. 

Gareth looked at Lisle, eyes wide. He glanced from her to the Guardian and then to the small man lying prone on the ground. His mouth turned down, forehead furrowing in displeasure. She could see he was not happy with this man accompanying them. Gareth fidgeted with his knife and looked grimly at Terris.

Lisle wasn’t sure she was happy about it either. She knew it was what Ell wanted, she had seen it all clearly. But how could they trust a man who would imprison flyer folk?  Where is Moss? She thought. During her communing with Ell, Moss had left her shoulder. Maybe they couldn’t trust this man, but she did trust Ell, and Ell wanted Terris to go with them.

Terris pushed himself up from the dirt and stood, keeping his head bowed. His gaze went to the coin box abandoned on the ground before him and his hands twitched toward it. Lisle saw his glance, feeling her mouth form a scowl as she shook her head hard at him.

With that she saw him draw back, looking hastily from her to the Guardian, then retreat into his cottage.  She assumed he would gather what things he might bring with him. She knew he would pass on the Guardian’s message to his sons who had already hidden within the cottage. He would be too afraid not to.

It was not long before she saw him exit the cottage, a heavily weighted pack on his back and move to stand beside Gareth. Gareth in turn, moved away a few steps, fidgeting with his knife and glancing pointedly at Terris. Terris hitched his pack higher onto his back and looked at the ground, shuffling his feet nervously.

Just then, Moss made a diving attack at Terris’s head. Grasping a few hairs in her hand as she hurtled past, she ripped them from his head.

“Yow!” Terris grabbed for his head and ducked. “You scrigging, little flitter! I’ll…”

A rumbling growl filled the air. Lisle saw Terris jerk his head toward the Guardian, unuttered threat caught between open lips, eyes wide with terror.

“I never meant it no harm, and won’t do now. By the One, so’s I won’t.” The fearful words poured out of him.
​
Ell blinked her eyes slowly at him, golden orbs accepting his promise. Lisle’s lips twitched upward grimly as she watched. Terris would be keeping that promise whether he wanted to or not.  

At the sight of the enormous, bellowing, horrific beast landing before them, Berk, Lellin, and Narn took off faster even than a runner. None of them gave a thought to any but themselves, not even their Farn. Perhaps they thought that he, like themselves would be saving his own hide, and they must act accordingly. Whatever their thought process, all three were racing away before even the group of villagers who had paid to see the intriguing spectacle of captive flier folk, ran screaming in all directions.
​
They didn’t see poor Terris, overly large, belted pants slipping further down on his hips, as too terrified to run, he dropped the cage and fell forward into the dust at his feet. He covered his head with his hands, rolled up sleeves and baggy shirt clinging to his sweaty arms and back. Then doing his best to disappear into the earth beneath him, he put his dripping forehead to the ground.

He had seen his death in the Guardian’s eyes in the short time that he dared to look. Those golden, round-pupiled eyes bored into him, filled with rage. He was sure he had seen flames flickering within.  The Guardian would surely rend him with those horrible claws and tear at him with it’s huge, terrible teeth at any moment. He trembled uncontrollably, awaiting his end.

It might even eat me, he thought with horror. He had never heard of someone being eaten by a Guardian. He had never even heard of someone seeing a Guardian. But this had to be a Guardian and it was so terribly angry. Angry at me, he thought. He curled in upon himself, knees drawn up to his belly, arms covering his head, face still to the ground, and trembled all over.

The roaring stopped and Terris, Praise the One, discovered he was not dead. Not even a little bit. He raised his face up from the dirt and peering between his fingers, risked a quick glance upward. He saw the Guardian standing over him, staring at him fixedly. He was sure he saw a bit of saliva falling from between it’s jaws. Recoiling, he lowered his head quickly and looked to his left. A girl-woman knelt in front of his cage, now lying on its side. She gently righted it and unfastened the door. A green flitter burst from the door, chittering loudly, followed closely by the red-winged flitter. The green one landed on the girl’s shoulder and shook it’s whole arm at him, chittering so rapidly and with such vehemence that it bounced about on the girl’s shoulder. He watched just long enough to see the red flitter hover before the green one and touch it gently with both hands, then zip away. My flitters is gone and my future along with them, he thought. He put his face to the dirt and shook.

The clacking sound of the flitter’s chittering grew louder and he felt a pull and a hard yank on the hair at the back of his head as hairs were ripped out. ”Ow!” The exclamation burst from his lips. He turned his head quickly to see the green flitter triumphantly brandishing it’s fist at him, holding a few of his grey and black hairs. She, for it was clear now that this was a female, hovered before his eyes, her lips spread in a feral grin, her head haloed with moss green hair. Then she whirred back to land once again on the girl’s shoulder. Just the beginning of the end, he thought morosely.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head back to see the Guardian rise to all fours and move away. He couldn’t help but watch even as his body lay curled on the ground. The Guardian’s long wings were folded now upon it’s back. Crimson wing tips draped gracefully over back haunches. The olive-green head ridged in carnelian, it’s terrible teeth now thankfully hidden within it’s jaws, was turned purposefully in the direction in which it moved. It moved rather awkwardly on it’s four limbs, if such a word could be used to describe such a creature as a Guardian, he thought.  It’s long ridged tail, scaled in shining green, ridged in ruby red, dragged along the ground behind it. It’s a creature of magic and air, not meant for trudging on the ground with the rest of us, he thought, momentarily distracted from his predicament by the awe he felt in the Guardian’s presence. Then he remembered himself. Even a creature such as that has to eat, and he shivered with the thought.  

“W…watch him Gareth?” The girl-woman followed after the Guardian her long, nut-brown braid trailing down her back, the green flitter riding her tunic-clad shoulder.

Terris raised his head, hope sparking within him.  He looked at the tall, young man dressed in hunter’s garb, standing just to his right. The man looked back at him, deep eyes intense, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead. His upper lip curled with distaste. The man held a wicked looking hunter’s knife in his hand. It had a very long blade.

“Face down,” said the man. Hope died in Terris. Guardian’s probably saving me for it's end-day meal, he thought. Terris put his face down and lay, trying unsuccessfully to still the trembling of his body.

If Terris had only known what his ill-advised actions would bring down upon him later that same sun, he would have chosen differently. As it was, however, he was fully engaged in what to him seemed a very good idea.

“There’s one!” shouted Terris.

Terris ran. He was a small man, strong from years of eking out a living as a mediocre blacksmith, but he was no woodsman. The roots and branches tripped and slapped at him, grabbing at the crudely made iron cage he held in his outstretched arm.

“Oooff… missed. Rend it!”

He looked to see where his sons were. Three men, younger versions of Terris himself, stumbled and tripped through the undergrowth, cursing and falling, hunting the tiny, shimmering flier folk. The dawn light cast slanting shadows through the woods, further obscuring their efforts.

We’ll never catch one a them bumblin’ through the woods like this, thought Terris. I’ll just have ta come up with a plan. “Hold up there Berk! Narn! Lellin! Git back here and set down. I gotta think.”

His sons waded back and slumped to the ground in heaps surrounding him, glum and sullen expressions on their beard stubbled, dirty faces.

Not goodlookin’ my boys,  thought Terris, as his gaze passed over them. They shoulda' been out on they own a time ago, but for what I feed and clothe’em. Makin’ it too easy for ‘em, I am. Still, we get us some a them flitters and we’ll be set. Folks would pay a lot to see real, live flitters. I’ll be able to stop smithin’. Not much good at it anyways, he thought with a shrug. The boys can get places of they own. We’ll none of us be a’hungered again. Terris thought this was a fine idea. Now, we just have to catch ‘em.

Terris remembered when he had first seen the flier folk as a boy. Wonder and awe had filled him, fluttering in his belly like the flitters that he watched with delight. It was as if he was seeing the magic of the woods in their shimmering wings. It was enough to make him forget the hunger that plagued him constantly in his boyhood, even for just a little while. For years he had hung about at the borders of the woods, every time he could get away, hoping for a glimpse of them.

That's it! Them flitters like that marshy place on sun-filled days. Just like today. Terris thought of the marsh at the edge of the woods where it opened up to the small pond, hidden from view of the town. A special place he came across as a boy skirting the edge of the forest forbidden to him by his farn, afraid to venture too far in, his belly hungry and fretful. There he saw them hovering and flitting among the tall stalks of fluff weed, their wings impossibly beautiful in the sunlight. He spent hours hidden behind rocks and trees, staring with avid eyes, drinking in the magic. How could I ‘a forgot?

“Boys! Git to the marsh. We’ll hide an’ wait real quiet. They’ll get close if we waits long enough, then we’ll grab ‘em.” Pleased with the plan, Terris stood up.

His sons peered up at him.

“Marsh?” Berk looked at him, unbelieving.

“I ain’t never seen no marsh round here,” said Lellin. Then a gleam came into his eye. “But ifn’ there’s a marsh, maybe we could get us some swimmers! Eatin’ time!” Lellin rubbed his stomach and nodded.

“What are you’s talkin’ about?” Narn, looked at his Farn, then his brothers, mouth and eyebrows twisted in confusion.

Terris looked at his man-boys, scowling. “Leave off your stomach for now Lellin. You’ll have plenty of coin to fill your belly with when we get us some flitters. Come on, I’ll show you where ta’ hide.” Terris picked up the cage and stalked off.

“We ain’t goin’ inta forest? Berk’s lanky frame shuddered as he trudged reluctantly after his Farn.

“Just a little ways,” said Terris.

 We never gonna’ catch those flitters,” muttered Narn, head down and following behind his brother.

“I’m hungry. My belly’s rumblin’ hear that? There it goes again. When we gonna’ eat? Huh?” Lellin dragged his feet along the ground and rubbed at his stomach.

His sons whined and complained, but followed Terris to the marsh just inside the edge of Darkling Forest. There, with many emphatic shushing motions and pointing gestures, Terris managed to get his sons hidden and quiet.

They sat and they waited. Visions of a coin box filled to the brim kept them all silent. Several hours passed when one of the flier folk, tiny and red-hued , landed close by their hiding place to rest unaware on a lily pad, floating in the sun dappled marsh. Four men lunged out of their hiding spot and by some miracle of the One, not only caught the unlucky flitter but did so without harming it, and stuffed it into the cage.

Then Terris, again gesturing for silence, set the cage carefully on the ground and gestured his sons back into hiding.

An hour later, Terris and his sons had caught another of the tiny flier folk, who responding to the distressed noises emitting from the cage, had landed upon the cage, chittering loudly, trying to unfasten the latch and release the unhappy occupant.

Terris held the cage aloft with its two, tiny occupants, and his sons leaped and cavorted about him like young pullers, accompanied by loud, self-congratulatory whoops.

“Now we gonna’ earn us some coin and eat!” Shouted Terris, grinning broadly.

It  didn’t work out quite the way he planned.
 

Lisle was tired, every muscle in her legs and back, sore and complaining. Ell, half-grown and inexperienced flyer that she was, still managed to set a rapid pace, keeping just ahead of them in the sky. Gareth traveled easily over the undulating fields and sparse woods through which they traveled, his years of wandering preparing him well for a trip such as this. Moss flitted about them, landing here on Lisle’s pack, there on Gareth’s shoulder, zipping out ahead of them, then falling back on their trail, only to catch up a few minutes later.

Watching her zipping about, Gareth frowned, then his lips twitched upward. “Shining scales, she’s watching our trail.”

Following the tiny, green blur with her eyes, Lisle nodded her head, Thanks Moss.

After the first few days, it was clear that they would need to slow down until Lisle’s traveling muscles could build up a bit. Lisle said nothing, but the stiff legged way that she moved on that second morning, and her cramped posture as she shouldered her pack, loudly proclaimed what she would not say.

Ell slowed down then, circling when necessary and taking frequent breaks. At that pace Lisle was able to keep up.

Over the next few days they fell into a traveling routine. Starting off at dawn, resting as needed, and finding camping spots as the day drew to a close. Water in streams and ponds was plentiful, Ell guiding them easily from one to the next. Moss continued her vigilance. Gareth hunted along the way if anything edible came close.

Ell surprised them all one end day as she strutted toward her companions and presented them with a fine hopper for their evening meal.

"Our Ell is a hunter now," said Gareth looking at her proudly. Ell returned his gaze, fluffing her wings a bit, and arching her neck. Lisle was enormously relieved as she had all she could do to stay upright and doggedly moving along. 

The seventh day of their journey dawned bright and sunny. They had been unusually lucky with the weather so far, and both Gareth and Lisle were grateful. This morning’s walking brought them to the outskirts of a rural village crouched on the edge of Darkling Forest.

“We can provision here,” said Gareth.

Lisle looked over the tiny village and thought longingly of a soft, dry bed and a hot bath. She looked at her feet, hanging her head, as she fingered the tiny purse hanging at her waist with the few coins given to her by Farn for the trip.

“Uh…I  d…don’t…”

Gareth glanced at her.

“Don’t fret. I’ve some coin put by. We’ll be alright.”

Lisle looked at him and exhaled the breath that had tightened within her chest, a child’s sunny smile gracing her lips.

As they entered the village Lisle saw Moss alight on the branch of a tree standing just to the side of the cottages. She looked for Ell and watched as she angled downward and disappeared beneath the trees bordering the forest.

Lisle felt for that warmly lit place in her heart that was Ell, and knew that she was content.

The village was not much more than a few cottages huddled together on the outskirts of Darkling Forest. The cottages were much like that which Lisle’s Farn had built, and in which Lisle had grown up. Though these were smaller and not as well kept.

There looked to be a smithy with makeshift furnace, crooked chimney leaning upright, anvil and tools hung beneath an unevenly canted overhang of wooden roof.  Opposite that, a cottage with a small sign hanging above the doorway and a rough drawing of a tankard and what might have been a loaf of bread.

Gareth contemplated the sign. Then he shrugged his shoulders and beckoned to Lisle.  They entered the doorway to see a room filled with a long, much scarred wooden table. Rough wooden benches, similarly marked by hard use, were pulled up to the sides. A lone villager sat at the end of the table, hunched over a tankard of drink and staring up at them, wide-eyed, as they came through the door.

 “You be the first traveler’s in here in awhiles,” said the villager, nodding his head slowly as if he had said something profound.

“That so,” said Gareth. “Could a couple a’ hungry travelers get a meal here abouts?”

A woman entered the room pushing backwards through a door at the side of the room. She grasped empty tankards by the handles in each hand. Setting them up beside a line of similar tankards on the shelf which stretched along the wall beside the door, she wiped her hands on the clean, woven apron tied about her slender waist. She walked toward them, slippered feet just visible swishing beneath her long, dust-colored skirt. Tucking strands of greying hair back up under a cloth cap on her head she said, “You be looking for a meal.”

Lisle and Gareth were delighted to find that for a small amount of coin she offered a decent stew and loaf of warm, fresh-baked bread. Happily, they sat down at the end of the table opposite from the villager and tucked in. For reasons known only to himself, the villager let them be and did not ask the questions which no doubt burned in his gullet.

Finishing her meal, Lisle tucked away a slice of bread for Moss. Then she forced her way through a request for a bath from the proprietress. Evidence enough of just how badly she wanted a long, hot soak. She was delighted to be told that there was a tub that could be rented. Hot water cost extra, and Lisle sighed, shaking her head, no. But Gareth signaled to the woman and Lisle spent the next blissful hour after her meal, soaking away a seven day of aches, closed away in the bath closet.

Gareth waited, happy to relax by the window and watch the small goings on in the village.

He sat up as he saw Ell emerge from the woods and circle over the village, then move over the edge of the forest. He saw her hover and then dive down into the trees. She’s caught her own dinner then, he thought, satisfied that she was well.

A short time later he saw her return to the sky, again circling the village. The shadow she cast upon the ground from so high up was not much more noticeable than that of the small hunter fliers so common in the skies. He looked to see if any of the villagers saw her when he noticed a small group of people standing about beside the smithy across the street. They were all gesturing excitedly and pointing at a what looked to be a crude-looking metal cage held in one man’s hand.

Lisle burst from the bath closet, fully clothed, looking flushed and braiding her chestnut hair rapidly. She ran to where Gareth sat at the window. “Wh…what’s wrong? Where’s Ell?”

Gareth pointed out the window. Astounded they watched together, as they saw Ell arrow out of the sky, back-winging to stand on her hind legs, wings mantling, flapping up a great cloud of dirt into the group of people at the smithy.

Lisle was already on her way out the door, and Gareth scrambled to follow her.

Ell’s eyes were huge pupiled and wild, crown ridges erect and glowing a startling, bright red. She lifted her sharp toothed jaws open to the sky and let out a tremendous, bellowing roar that rattled the shaky foundations of the smithy, dust dribbling down from the overhang next to them.

Practically stumbling over Lisle as he caught up to her, Gareth raced with her toward Ell. The same question burned in both their minds. What could possibly be causing Ell to react in such a terrifying manner?