Chapter 12
The river gurgled past Mizumi and Mrs. McMooch, sparkling in the sunlight and frothing at the edges. It had taken them several days to go around Fetid Swamp, having chosen instead to go around it and find the river that was so pure and clean one could see the smallest pebbles in the bottom, even though it was the source of the swamp’s muckiness.
Mizumi stared across the river. There were giant boulders that looked almost hewn to a rough rectangular shape, as though some living beings had attempted to build a large stone wall but abandoned it centuries ago. There was a large forest, with trees as big as castles, surrounding a meadow that appeared to be a couple of weeks’ walk if one took one’s time. They could just spot a tall rock pillar with a triangular boulder perched on top, with a pile of boulders resting at the bottom. Wildflowers had blossoms the size of dinner plates. Clusters of wild figs were as big as one’s head. The grass grew to knee-height, while bright red songbirds the size of eagles flew over the canopy near the horizon.
Mrs. McMooch put a toe in and shuddered. “That carriage of yours float?”
Mizumi smirked and glanced at the toad dryly. “My dearest McMooch, I am the future Cup of Moraine.” She held out her arm and the waters began to arch up and over and down before hitting the riverbed again. The princess felt her chest tremble with the effort, as she had never tried anything like that before, but was something she had seen her father do once. Pretty soon her arm was aching, the veins pulsing throughout, revealing a whitish-blue blood underneath her skin. “If you are so kind, please cross to the other side before I can hold the waters up no longer,” she told her travelling companion.
Mrs. McMooch nodded and with ten large hops found herself on the other side, a bit misted though otherwise not terribly soaked.
Mizumi sighed and grunted and the river came splashing down, inundating them both with water. Mizumi calmly walked atop the river surface to the other side, and began to wring out her dress.
Mrs. McMooch took off several layers of clothing and shuddered. “Ya couldn’t let it down gently?” she groused. “Us cold-blooded creatures don’t like to be chilled.”
Mizumi nodded. “I apologize. I appear to have the will but not yet the stamina. Forgive me.”
“Hmph.”
After drying themselves satisfactorily, Mizumi and McMooch crossed through a gap in the abandoned stone wall-like structure into the meadow. Both shuddered and gasped as a feeling of over-powering magic washed over them, leaving them dizzy and disoriented.
Mrs. McMooch grunted. “What is this? What is happening to us?”
Mizumi braced herself against a boulder, breathing heavily, her head swimming. “Primal magic … at … at work. Ages of untapped … untapped energies … so beautiful!”
“So head-racking!” Mrs. McMooch complained, holding her head just above her knees.
Mizumi’s eyes began to water as she cried from sheer joy. This was the purity of life, with no concerns, no troubles, no pain … it was unadulterated bliss. Her cries turned to laughter as she sat on the ground, looking up at the sky. How could her parents have not told her of such a profound place? She clenched the grass in her hands and arched her back, enjoying her newly found ecstasy.
McMooch slapped her. “We’re here to get some plants and hop back to the lake, Princess,” she reminded Mizumi forcefully. “You gotta snap out of it!”
Mizumi’s cheeks began to chafe from so many tears. “Mother – I love you so much.”
McMooch sighed, shook her head, and popped Mizumi in the face with her long tongue, leaving a large red mark.
Mizumi snapped out of it and rubbed her cheeks, frowning. “What did you do?”
McMooch squatted and put her hands angrily on her wide hips. “All this sweetness and joy stuff is making you stupid, Princess. Let’s get what we came for and get out before we die of the saccharine.”
Mizumi struggled to her feet, still reeling from the torrent of power churning through her. They staggered toward the treeline at the southern edge of the meadow, where a giant tree, the trunk of which was several meters across, lay against the ground, its roots above the surface of the ground. Mizumi ran her fingers over the ancient bark, with traces of what looked like orange paint in spots. The branches were bare, scraggly things that looked like a gnarled hand reaching away from them.
Suddenly Mizumi found herself violently tossed up into the air, her torso restricted as though being clenched with giant hands. Screaming as her torso continued to constrict, she dug her hands into what felt like a hand, feeling the mists twirl around her and enter her body. She found herself falling toward the ground, a sudden relief causing her to breathe heavily until she hit, when she cried out in pain.
Looking around, Mizumi discovered she could not find Mrs. McMooch, who had apparently left her alone.
Her mind relaxed, letting the mists she absorbed swirl around in her thoughts. She saw the meadow from a high perspective, perhaps two stories high, the sense of fear making her heart beat faster as memories of armed humans chased it through a swirling light. The meadow suddenly took on a more comfortable proportion, and the humans could not follow. Terror washed over her, though, as she discovered her body was transparent. She ran and ran but could not escape the nightmare.
As she felt about ready to slump to the ground and cry, she opened her eyes as she felt heavy thudding on the ground, the sounds coming toward her. Mizumi sat up and looked high above her. The air betrayed nothing, but she felt a large presence approaching, a presence filled with apprehension.
She winced as several large vines started springing up from the ground, thrashing about wildly. Cringing, she felt as water appeared and disappeared around her, as though trying to form a shield but being unable to do so.
“Getcher veggies!” she could hear Mrs. McMooch scream.
Mizumi opened her eyes, still battered by giant vines. Mrs. McMooch was throwing strange objects, red and white with tufts of green leaves. The objects bounced off some invisible creature but some disappeared entirely.
The princess tried to stand, but several of the vines wrapped around her legs and yanked her back to the ground.
“Somebody help me!” she shrieked.
With a loud pop, the vines burst into a shower of torn leaves, stems and green water. Mizumi coughed and looked around, noticing a black heron flying circles above her. It slowly landed and turned into the King of Moraine.
“Father!” Mizumi exclaimed.
Her father glared at her. “You are not to be here, Mizumi. Return to Moraine at once,” he told her sharply.
Mizumi stood, her gown torn and her hair tangled in plant debris. “There is a monster. It is invisi--.”
Her father clenched his teeth and glanced behind him, nodding, making Mizumi follow his gaze to find a large furry creature a couple of stories high with dark purple fur. The creature was dazed and sat down with a thud so profound it shook the ground. The King of Moraine shot a dark glance at his daughter. “This outcast creature fled humans who wished to see it dead. Initially petrified by the lack of form, he found himself eventually content to be the invisible hand of protection for this sacred place. You are a fae and confused this creature, who found himself terrified that humans may once again be pursuing him. We shall speak more outside this realm. You will follow, my daughter,” he ordered, snapping his fingers.
At sunset they sat down by the river, the golden and reddened towns reflected in the churning waters.
The King of Moraine grabbed Mizumi by her arm, her eyes wincing. “Our kingdom is in danger and you pursue Gorgs?”
“That was a Gorg?” Mizumi asked.
He threw her arm down in disgust and turned away, walking towards Mrs. McMooch, who trembled and shrank her proportions in fear. “How can you save the kingdom if you know nothing of it?” he asked, yanking the toad up and clenching her hair in his fist. “This toad’s passion is to destroy faes who live on what she considers her land.”
“But her son is sick,” Mizumi protested.
He scoffed. “A necessary sacrifice. See how she does not protest?” He smirked. “She is well aware she could just as easily kill off half her children and still promote her line easily. Meanwhile, we faes are not so prolific. Any loss is a travesty,” he continued, glancing at Mizumi.
Mizumi sat down, her mouth agape. “This was an assassination?”
“A nearly successful one,” her father complained. “Still, you are yet alive, and I shall remedy her strategy before the completion of sunset.” He lifted her off the ground and held her head close. “My dear, your sick child is hereby banished.”
The toad chuckled defiantly. “Go on ahead, banish me. Banish my youngest son. I have hundreds of other children.”
The King laughed. “I am the Black Heron, the river that gives life to the lake.” He paused, his lips curling. “I eat vermin with the ravenous appetite of a Gorg.” Tossing her aside, he continued, “the McMooch family is no more. Their lives shall forever be inside me. I shall have your parts dissected and left in the castle courtyard. Your son is banished to Fetid Swamp, a wanderer with no home and no prospects.” He turned to his daughter. “Name him, as per toad custom.”
Mizumi, trembling, glancing back and forth between her father and the treasonous toad. “Wander,” she whispered.
Her father nodded, smiling. “Wander McMooch shall no know nothing but poverty and destruction.” He grabbed Mrs. McMooch and lifted her resigned form onto his shoulder. “Daughter, you shall walk to Moraine alone. I have neglected your tutoring. You had a simple task, to restore Moraine, but you chose instead to let your female instincts force a pity upon you that was unfounded. The kingdom is pure because the vermin are destroyed. Pity you had not the heart to do what was necessary. That will change.”