13
Pickle-Me-Jack
left no track nor trail in his passage through the forest. Bealz and
Monie, meanwhile, cut a wide swath as they made their way, crashing
about in oblivious delight. Their trail vanished, though, just as
the forest takes a turn, darkening, changing over suddenly from light
to dark. The darkness wasn't just caused because of the density of
the woods. This was something else.
Jo-Mel
had tracked them at a distance, following them into the heart of the
forest, and now silently contemplates the sudden disappearance of
Bealz and Monie's trail. It was as though they'd simply vanished
into thin air. Highly possible, but unlikely, given that Monie
wielded her power with no subtlety, like a hammer. She would have
simply torn a hole right through the barriers. Jo-Mel would have
sensed it happening, would still feel its residual energies.
There was
no scent, however. No displaced leaf, no stirred nor scuffed soil
along the path, no broken twigs or branches. No sign of them
whatsoever. Their trail simply vanished in mid-stride.
Jo-Mel
had never been thwarted from pursuit, however, and knew that people
left behind much more than physical evidence. Peering deeper,
looking for the near imperceptible eddying wake of their passage, a
curious void can just be seen swirling in and about the trees.
Jo-Mel senses a weaving, a mystical working possibly concealing a
larger threat.
This was
the predator lurking amongst the trees that watched and waited as
Bealz and Monie approached. Jo-Mel could sense its malevolence. The
forest was sick with it. A curious sort of illness, though. The
gangrenous rot grew from within, leaving the outer appearance of
health.
Grown
unchecked, this could have led to the death of, not just this place,
but the entire glen and glade surrounding the woods, as well.
How could
this have gone unnoticed? Jo-Mel is disturbed by the implications
and wonders, far from the first time, just what had become of the
Royal Family. So many of the duties of the House of Askai had gone
unfulfilled, untended, since the disappearance of the wayward prince.
Could
this too be evidence of the Royal Family's dereliction's?
Jo-Mel
could not quite fathom the damage that could be done by the death of
such a large and integral part of the Incata's magical landscape.
Surely there had to be some who had sensed the festering blight
growing within the very heart of this Elemental. And if not, that
blight must be caused by a powerful and dangerous entity, most likely
a demon or something like it, loosed from the dark places between
worlds. Something capable of masking itself for some time. Only
such as these would possess both the power and the inclination to
even attempt such a lethal working.
Slowly
drawing a razor sharpened katana from its sheath, Jo-Mel proceeds
forward with extreme caution, tracking a nothing of a thing, an
absence of space.
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