Cloudfyre Falling - a dark fairy tale Read Free Page A

where animal sacrifices
were still strung up, rotting, slowly being eaten up by mulybugs
and fire-ants, chewed at by growing green mounds of
bonefungus.
    Carcasses littered Hovel’s cobbled
streets. Those of his own people. Just this morning he had walked
through here on his way down ridge to river. Vonagar had been
heading out to the high plain beyond Buccuyashuck to hunt grass
lizards with his falcon. Henendar and Melinaya, young lovers, had
been rigging a wagon for journey to Waysville and Cidertown along
Far Trail. Sellers had been hauling open their market stalls,
Gorinth and Farbenay squabbling over positioning of olive jars and
strings of pickled toad.
    As well, the Magers at Hovel’s
Temple Of Vruinthia had been about their daily ritual of merging
mind and body with tree and plant, to prey and meditate in order
that they may further unlock the secrets of the natural realm. The
great wooden form of Vruinthia, which from lore passed down from
Great Dawn (being the time of the earliest days) spoke as being
half tree, half giantess, still stood atop her temple.
    But here and now the Magers had
somehow perished, sprawled about in death. Whatever secrets they
may have gleaned from tree and shrub had obviously not been enough
to forewarn them of the blight that had suddenly and inexplicably
befallen them.
    Large Gorbulls, wagon haulers, lay
dead and gashed open. And shire-horses were scattered lifelessly
about their enclosures. Already the scavenging hoardogs from deep
within Summer Woods were tearing moist bloody flesh from bone. The
stench of death were sharp and moist and meaty on the late morning
air.

    4
    Gargaron raced through Hovel, raw
screeching anxiety and fear tearing at his heart. All that filled
his mind were Veleyal, his precious, beautiful daughter. And
Yarniya, his beloved, cherished wife.
    He tore down Meadowsvale Lane
toward his stilted house where it were situated along the orange
grove that backed onto the woodland. He raced up wooden stairs,
burst through doors praying he would find his sweethearts huddled
in bedroom or cellar. But he thumped from room to room only to find
his cottage empty.
    ‘ Veleyal! ’ he called desperately,
‘ Yarniya! Where be you? ’
    He spotted then a note on the
dining table and snatched it into his grasp:
    Picking Spotted Blues in Summer
Woods,
    See you anon,
    Love, your dear
Yarniya.

    5
    Gargaron fled cottage, charged
down lane and exited rear of village over Hovel’s iron bridge that
spanned Shadow Brook, and running, running he charged out into the
airy woodland, woodland that fringed the top of Cahsteks Ridge.
Usual ornithen song had fallen silent. Only the eerie howl of
Hoardogs could be heard through the woods now. Squirrel carcasses
lay spread across duff and leafy carpet. He arrived at Pliko’s
Stream and tracked it to Jaden’s Point, a glade where he knew
Yarniya liked to pick her Spotted Blue toadstools that stood as
tall as Gorbulls.
    Though, as he
charged toward it, his heart sunk and he realised he were too late.
There before him, a pair of corpses sprawled across dirt and stone.
Hoardogs picked at their toes and would soon drag open their
bellies, and feast. Dread filled him.
    He arrived
roaring, the dogs scattering into undergrowth. He dropped to his
knees, scooping his daughter into shaking arms glistening with
sweat… and her head lolled loosely, lifeless. ‘ No! ’ he cried. ‘ Veleyal! Veleyal, please, come round now. Please, awaken, I
beg of you! ’
    But she heard him
no longer, and her eyes stared long, empty and dead into the high
leafy canopy. He felt something pinching his leg. He looked around
to find the fingers of his wife weakly touching him. Holding his
daughter in one arm he scrambled to his wife’ s side. ‘ Yarniya ,’
he cried desperately. ‘ Yarniya? What did
this? ’
    She could no more
speak than lift her head from the earyth . Could but barely whisper.
‘ The Darkwing ,’ she whispered,
‘ it has awoken .’
And here