Rebirth of the Nephilim

Chapter 433: POV Meli

Change was coming. She could smell it in the air, feel it in the soil, taste it in the water. Some power was rolling towards her on the wind like a dark thundercloud and soon it would be upon her little glen. Whether it would pass her home by or linger for an age, she couldn’t predict. But change was coming. She could feel it.

Meli hated change.

Opening her eyes, the Dryad let out an involuntary groan at the sight of her broken grove. Her heart was still aching from the damage done by the terrible demons. It had been almost two years, but that was only eight seasons. Hardly any time at all. It would take decades for the old growth that had ringed the valley to recover from the fire. The flowers would be back soon enough, but the hives…

The Dryad shook her head. Moaning over losses was a waste of energy. She wouldn’t waste her water on useless tears. The tingle of change was what had woken her from her recuperative rest, not a desire to mourn.

Pulling her feet from the dirt, Meli stretched like a beast and shook her leaves free of a lingering dew that had coated them. Glancing up, she saw that the sun had already risen high and was well on its way to its zenith. A late start to the day, but that was to her advantage. Meli knew where she would find the most talkative creatures of the forest, and they would not be far at this time of day.

Setting out, Meli made her way out of her ruined valley to search the greater forest. It didn’t take long before she found one of the groups she was looking for.

The flock of jewel-crested ducks were feeding on the new growth of water vines in the small pond that was fed by the same creek that ran through her burnt grove. They had only recently migrated back into the area from the north, but the squawking birds were always so quick to pick up on anything unusual that might be going on in the forest. Meli was sure that if something had changed in the Brenna Woods, the ducks would know.@@novelbin@@

Wading into the water that was still cold with snowmelt, Meli communed with the feasting fowl. The ducks were simple beasts, without any language or higher thought, but they were smart enough to understand if there was danger nearby, and more than capable of letting Meli know where it was. However, after a brief exchange, Meli quickly realized that the ducks had no knowledge of any changes, dangerous or otherwise.

The same held true for the crows, the boars, the deer, and the foxes. None of them had noticed anything amiss. Meli even checked with the few silver bears that had survived the attack, but their only complaint was the continued lack of honey. After several hours of searching and speaking with the wild beasts of the woods, she had found nothing wrong.

Had her instincts been wrong?

No. Absolutely not. Meli trusted her instincts more than any creature that flew, walked, or crawled through Villthyrial’s great wilderness. Even if her god was quiet on most days, she knew she could count on her own instincts. The winds of change were blowing. She could smell them.

There were a few more places Meli could check for change. A few creatures she hadn’t spoken to, a few dales and glens she had yet to search. But there was a more likely source of change nearby that she had purposefully overlooked. One that she had perhaps ignored for far too long.

Blowing forth a frustrated sigh, Meli made her way through the spring foliage towards the village of Cold Brook.

The last time Meli had checked on the village had been before the demons had attacked. She knew that they were still around. Hunters still frequented the woods and the smell of cooking fires and livestock still drifted on the winds. So far as she could tell, the attack had barely touched their walls, so she hadn’t spared any attention on them. She had her own problems to worry about. Perhaps she should have at least paid a courtesy visit, certainly her old grove would have done so for any of their neighbors. However, Meli didn’t think it was her business. What civilized creatures did in their own territories was none of her concern, so long as they stayed out of her grove. Besides, none of them had ever come to check on her.

Not that Meli wanted them to visit. She was well enough on her own.

The sun was halfway towards the western horizon when Meli approached Cold Brook. A stretch of old ash trees had been left on a rocky hill that jutted out towards the village, a peninsula surrounded by a sea of cultivated meadowland. From her vantage point in the trees, Meli carefully observed the walled settlement.

Everything looked pretty much the same to her. The tall stone walls that encircled the main part of the village were still standing, unblemished and strong. There were small houses and barns outside of the village walls that were scattered around it in a disorganized jumble that made no sense to Meli, but they all looked like they were in the same spots they had been the last time she had visited the village. Even the one barn that had burnt down years ago on the southern side of the brook had yet to be rebuilt.

The sameness was… comforting. Not because she had any particular like for the village, but because she appreciated that even among the chaotic creatures of the empire, some stability could be found. Still, the sight was also frustrating. If the people of the village weren’t the source of change that Meli felt, what was?

Spying a young boy herding a flock of goats in the pasture near the hill she had hidden herself on, Meli briefly considered approaching the human. It was always possible that some change was going on that wasn’t readily visible to the eye. The boy could have some word of what it was. Maybe more demons had made it deep into the continent again. Or perhaps some great and powerful individual was staying in the village for the night. That had happened once, many seasons ago, when that dark therion had passed through the land on his way to some distant battlefield. Speaking to the boy for a moment would be no different from speaking to the birds or the beasts.

Still, Meli shied away from the thought. She didn’t like to encourage familiarity between herself and the villagers. Most of the people of Cold Brook were humans. Short lived and as mutable as clay, though far, far more volatile. Elves were easier to deal with since they lived long lives, but humans and orcs and the other races less common to the area were troublesome. Meli had dealt enough with that kind of trouble at the old grove. No need to invite more.

Instead of calling out to the child, Meli climbed up one of the taller trees that rose high above the others on the hill. The height would let her see further, as well as spy into the center of the village that was otherwise obscured by the stone walls. The foliage on the ash tree was still light this early in the spring, so the shepherd boy or others nearby might spot her, but that was fine. Meli didn’t feel the need to hide like some kind of shrinking violet. She’d just ignore them if they pointed or called out to her. Perhaps give them a wave. That was usually enough to satisfy most villagers.

The sun’s light shone on the Dryad’s back as she gazed out over Cold Brook and the pastures that surrounded it. From the great height of the ash tree, she could see the far norther side of the village, as well as the many houses inside the walls. She could see the villagers going about their day, no great hurry to their movements, no strange sounds carried on the wind. She could even faintly hear the sound of the water wheel turning next to the bakery. There were fewer of the humans than there used to be, but that Meli recognized as a result of military enlistment. Many of the younger folk would have flocked to the cities to join the empire’s armies so they could aid in the war against the Demons. Meli had to admit, after what had happened to her grove, she felt that impulse from time to time as well.

Putting thoughts of vengeance aside, Meli focused on her self-appointment mission of the day. She still had yet to spot any sign of anything unusual, which was truly starting to bother her. There had to be something amiss. Perhaps she needed to search the edges of the—

A distant shout caught Meli’s attention, snapping her out of her reverie. Looking down at the pastures, she could see the shepherd excitedly waving his crook in her direction.

So, the boy had spotted her. He had good eyes, then, since the sun was behind her. Letting out a bothered huff, Meli waved back at the excited child. However, as she did so, she noticed that he wasn’t truly waving in her direction, exactly. His gaze was trained on something that was a little truer west, which was to her left. Curious, she turned her head to see what had caused so much excitement in the boy just as the shadow of a cloud blotted out the sun.

Except, the shadow was no cloud.

It was a monster.

A great black mass was flying at great speed towards the village. It was huge, close to a hundred feet long. The shape of it was somewhat like an almond, only more bulbous. There were no wings in sight, but an ugly protrusion hung from the underside of the abomination. The dark thing was tilted downwards in its unnatural flight and it was clear that it was swooping in towards Cold Brook.

Was it a demon? Some new horror that the Demon Lord had conjured up and had sent to rain down more destruction across the empire’s heartlands? It could not be a magic beast. Meli was nowhere near the oldest or wisest of Dryads but she had never in all her life heard of any creature that looked like this sin against nature. Surely, it had to be some corrupted creation of demon kind that for reasons known only to Samleos decided to come to a tiny village on the edge of Brenna Woods, of all places.

Meli almost fell out of her tree when a strong gust of wind sent the brutish beast closer to the hill. So close, in fact, that Meli was tempted into action. While she felt no responsibility for the villagers of Cold Brook, they were still people. They had been peaceful neighbors for the most part. She couldn’t just watch as they were set upon by such a monstrous creature. Meli was a Dryad, a Daughter of the Wilds and a Guardian of Villthyrial’s Flock. She was several orders of magnitude stronger than any of the simple farmers who lived along the brook. She didn’t know how her power would compare to something of such great size as this bulbous demon, but she could try.

If nothing else, she knew the demon would come after what was left of her grove once it was done with Cold Brook.

With her resolve hardened into stone, Meli prepared to attack. She had no spells that would reach the demon, but that didn’t look like it would be a problem for long. The wingless creature was coming her way and would soon pass by her tree as it approached the village. Readying herself to leap, Meli used a spell to elongate her fingers and toes into claws. Expending all the magic she had within her, she boosted her offenses and defenses to their maximum capacities. Once she was on the demon, she would do as much damage to it as she could. She could only hope that it did not fly too high into the sky or too far from the trees, otherwise she would have no way to get off the thing.

That, and she had to pray to Villthyrial that the demon didn’t have some spell that instantly burnt her to ash on contact.

Just as the Demon drew within reach and she had bent her legs to pounce, Meli noticed something odd. Or rather, since the whole demonic creature was as strange as a flying boar, she noticed a piece of the larger painting that didn’t seem to fit. The demon did not have feet. The demon had wheels. Large wheels, banded in iron.

Wheels.

Meli’s whole perception of the flying thing shifted as she reassessed its appearance. What she had taken to be some kind of tumorous protrusion along the belly of the beast was not made of flesh, but wood. Wood and metal and glass. It wasn’t a tumor, but a wagon. An extremely large, strangely shaped wagon.

Looking even more closely, she could see that there were people in the front of the wagon, which had been bizarrely incased in glass. A woman with red hair, flanked by a dark-haired half-elf and… a Seraphim with one wing? And what was that oversized pale face she glimpsed behind them, half-hidden in the shadows of the wagon interior? Some Fetch’s twisted idea of a joke?

The flying wagon floated by her tree, slowing down as it neared Cold Brook. Meli sat back, her preparations to attack forgotten as she stared at the unexplainable sight with utter confusion. As the… whatever it was, passed her by, she saw several small, open panels on the side of the wagon. More faces could be seen within, though most prominently was a therion woman with large horns and gray hair who had stuck half her body out of the window.

“—in here or you’re going to fall!” Meli heard a bass yet feminine voice call out.

“I’m not going to fall,” the therion shouted over the wind. “I’ve got my good boots on. I’ll just stick to the side and—”

That was all Meli could catch before the floating wagon had moved out of easy hearing.

The last thing she noticed before the wagon made a turn in order to circle the village was a woman’s face in the last open panel on the side of the vehicle. She was human, with brown hair and brown eyes. She was pleasant enough to look at but had a frankly unremarkable appearance that was nonetheless somehow familiar to Meli. As she passed, her brown eyes locked onto the Dryad, seeing her when no one else had. Tentatively, the woman raised a hand and waved at Meli.

With no other ideas coming to her stunned mind, Meli did what she usually did when villagers spotted her.

She waved back.