wasteawar

Hey! Thanks everyone for reading! As this is the last chapter of the writathon goal, I'll be taking a break after. I'll still be writing, but the next chapter might not come out for a week. In the meantime, I'm going to try working on a new cover art and some other stuff. I'll be back soon, I promise.

Autumn stood across from the gathering of nymphs, her arms crossed and a scowl plastered across her face. She was worried, rightfully so. While they weren’t archfey, the nymphs were certainly more powerful than the simple pixies of before and it was clear to the witch’s probing gaze they wanted something from the adventurers, and she doubted it was honey and song. She just hoped her friends could resist their charms and not trade away something irreplaceable.

“Art thee not worried for thyself? Yond nymphs art renown for beguilement,” the banshee whispered in Autumn’s ear, the amulet radiating a comforting cold in the humid heat of the feywild jungle. 

‘Emotions are my thing, and I’ll not allow a fae to lead me astray,’ Autumn responded, eyeing the mostly naked fey-women eyeing her back. ‘Besides, they aren’t even that pretty.’

“Tis not wise to lie in the feywild. Anyways, I wast mostly joking before, thee needeth bed one of those nubile maidens. In fact, ‘twould be a rather dangerous proposition with thy frame,'' the banshee chuckled a haunting laugh. “Still, ‘twould best be wise to be wary of a nymph’s affections just as much of their ire, for their idea of consent is far stranger than mortals, as many a young hero hast hath found out to their peril. Bethink of poor Hermaphroditus and the ills they ranneth afoul.”

Autumn shuddered. ‘Can we just say hello and move on?’

The banshee shook her head. “Nay, you hath offended the naiad three yonder. Doubtless they shalt hinder thee going forward.”

‘That wasn’t my fault,’ Autumn grumbled in her mind. ‘They started it and besides, I didn’t even injure them. Not for a lack of trying.’

“Fault or not, thee didst injure their pride and with it bruised, thee’ll not findeth luck traversing their waters.”

‘What of the jungle,’ Autumn nervously asked. ‘Can’t we travel through that somehow?’

“Again, not without the dryad’s favor, and they’ll not like your crashing through their lands atop thy sleigh.” The banshee sighed at Autumn's anxious behavior. “Thy shalt just have to brave their temperament and guile. Fret not young Witch Autumn, for I shalt aid thee whence I can. Appease the naiads at the very least.”

‘Alright, fine,’ Autumn sighed, not looking forward to the conversational minefield that speaking with a fae was. ‘And thank you.’ 

Taking a deep breath, Autumn centered herself and banished the idle thoughts from her mind. Trying her best to give them a friendly smile, the witch greeted the gathering of nymphs in their own fey-speech. 

“Greetings. We come before you as wayward adventurers in the midst of a truly dire quest. And while it was a surprise to come across a gathering of you fine selves, I can say it wasn’t an unpleasant one.”

The nymphs silently took in Autumn as she stood before the rest of her party, awaiting invitation into their gathering. For a moment it looked as if they were to be rejected by the fey-women — not that Autumn minded — but eventually the red-head nymph spoke up.

“If it wasn’t unpleasant, then what was it?” she asked curiously as she lounged on the riverbank, her long legs idly kicking in the crystal waters.

“A nice view.”

The red-headed nymph gazed blankly at Autumn for a moment or two before letting out a dainty snort. “Very well then. I welcome thee all to our dazzling spot of relaxation and repose. Make merry and be deserving of it, for a dwindling few are able or qualified to be amongst our radiance.” She smirked before continuing. “We were just discussing your band of merry-makers before you came sailing around our lopsided bend.”

“Our lopsided bend,” a naiad stressed as she glared at Autumn before turning to glare at the red-head. “And it isn’t up to you to accept them or not!”

Autumn raised an eyebrow at the naiad. “You wish to deny us hospitality?”

“You were rude to us first!” the naiad said in a snarl, sharp teeth displayed in aggression. She turned to the red-head. “They assaulted us with magic and broke the rules! We need not accept them here!”

“Did you not try to drown us?” Autumn asked, her eyes hard like dragon-forged steel as she stared down at the naiads in the water. “Do you not recall I asked you multiple times to stop? And when you didn’t, when you were inhospitable to us, I simply asked you to leave us be — to begone. While it is regrettable that things took such an unfavorable turn between us, it was not I who broke the rules.”

The red-head nymph looked askance at the naiads. “Is this true?”

“It wasn’t technically in the feywild,” one naiad said awkwardly. “And we were just playing!”

“And we did not wish to play,” Autumn said. 

The red-headed nymph sighed in annoyance. “Can’t we just leave it at that? I do not wish to hear anymore bickering in my abode — it’s ugly.” Her face twisted.

“No!” another naiad yelled. “We want restitution!”

“Restitution?!” Autumn barked a harsh laugh. “I’m surprised you know such big words.” 

“Careful now,” the banshee cautioned her, “you’re bordering on being rude.”

‘Bordering.’ 

The naiads glared at Autumn, the water growing turbulent around them. “Why not us?! We’re better than some dumb pixies and you gave them tribute!!” 

“Trade not tribute.” Autumn corrected. 

Behind the witch, the other adventurers were growing agitated at the raised voices they couldn’t understand and the frothing waters. Nethlia gripped her pole-hammer tight as she loomed protectively over Autumn while Eme nervously touched her new legendary blade, readying herself for more violence. 

The banshee sighed. “This bickering shall extend indefinitely if thee don’t compromise. They’re a vain lot — I doubt they even care about thee pushing them before, they just wanteth to be better than the pixies. Just asketh them what they wanteth as tribute, and if it’s innocuous enough, do it and be done with it.”

‘Fine,’ Autumn grumbled in her mind before sighing out loud and asking, “What is it that you desire for a suitable tribute to appease your turmoil?”

The trio of naiads blinked in surprise, and the waters stilled. Hurriedly they gathered together to discuss what it was they wanted, not unlike the pixies they were disparaging had. As Autumn watched on warily, they kept shooting her glances. After a short while, they came back to make their demands.

“We want a lock of your hair.”

Instantly, Autumn’s mood plummeted. 

However, the banshee interrupted her before she could shoot them down. “Don’t dismiss those fair folk outright — first findeth what they wanteth it for. Not all usages of another’s hair art malign.”

Autumn gritted her teeth. “Why? Why do you want my hair? And what are you planning to do with it?”

The naiads blinked their large eyes in confusion, mouthing the words “do with it.” One of them addressed the miscommunication, answering Autumn’s questions. 

“We don’t want to ‘do’ anything with it. It’s a tribute, an offering for protection. Back when our rivers still had cities lining our banks and not these crumbling ruins,” she gestured to the jungle-claimed temples and broken walls off in the jungle, “young boys and girls would offer their locks to us upon coming of age, and thus securing our favor. Now only the cruel drow cities remain, and we don’t want their locks as they harm our rivers.”

‘Sounds more like a protection racket to me,’ Autumn snarked. ‘Give us your hair or we’ll drown you.’ 

“Twas most likely the case. While tis unlikely to befall thee, but if they hath nefarious motive, thee’ll resist by the grace of thy charms and mine own guidance both. Even in death I hath few equals and they art not amongst them,” the banshee proudly declared.

‘Still, I don’t want to lose anymore of myself to the damn fae,’ Autumn said, before hastily adding, ‘oh, no offense.’

“Offense mildly taken,” the banshee said with a chuckle like cracking ice. 

“What’s happening?” Nethlia asked. “You’ve been quiet for a bit — did they say something rude?”

Autumn shook her head. “Not really. They want a lock of my hair to soothe their battered egos.” 

Nethlia squinted at the naiads. “Didn’t you say things like that were dangerous?”

“They are, but if I don’t, we’ll likely not be able to take the riverways anymore. However, our resident expert,” Autumn tapped the cold soulcage amulet under her clothes, “is suggesting I do it, with a few caveats.”

“Just keep yourself safe. We can fight our way out if necessary,” Nethlia whispered, to which all the adventurers nodded, although Liddie looked heartbroken.

While Autumn felt relieved at having the option, she knew she had to take this risk as they couldn’t spend forever in this strange realm. Around the riverside, the other nymphs looked curiously at the goings on. However, they also looked to be getting progressively more irritated with the naiads for taking up the spotlight for so long. 

With annoyance burning her, Autumn slashed off a small lock of her hair and tied it up with a strip of cloth. Her black orbs swiftly locked onto the naiads along the water’s edge.

“Know this, and I speak the words true — fuck around with me and I’ll come and get it. Understood? Do not use it to sway, beguile, or control me. Do not barter, gift, nor trade it. And most important of all — Do not test my patience.” Autumn glared down on the naiads and once they’d agreed to her demands thricely, she tossed them the raven locks. As soon as they had it in hand, their sour looks melted away.

“That was pretty brave,” Liddie whistled. “Aren’t you worried they’ll find a way to mess with you?”

Autumn shook her head. “Nah, I remember there being some counter-curses in my Witch’s Tome. Once I get it back, I’ll make a charm that’ll set them aflame with Witchfire or something if they fuck with me — I did warn them.”

Liddie blinked before she leant over to Eme and whispered, “remind me not to piss off your lover.” 

Eme rapidly nodded. 

Having settled the conflict between her and the naiads, Autumn turned to the party to usher them back aboard their river-boat. “Alright, we’ve been as nice as we need to be. Let’s get going before they find fault with our conduct or something equally offensive,” she said, only to be stopped in place as Liddie clamped her hands atop the witch’s shoulders. 

Liddie looked Autumn dead in the eye. “Look, I know you want only the best for us, but in an adventurer’s career, the opportunity to fuck a fae or three doesn’t come around often, and I’ll be damned to miss out on my one chance.”

Autumn looked at her in exasperation. “You do know that you’ll likely die in the attempt?”

The witch should’ve known better as asking such just encouraged the lusty pirate. Liddie grinned. “If I do, have it engraved on my gravestone — ‘Here lies the Kraken Eater; suffocated by a nymph’s snatch.’”

“You’re the worst,” Autumn said, rolling her eyes. “Didn’t you sleep with those mermaids in your story?”

A faraway look washed over Liddie’s eyes before she shook her head. “Nah, that was…different. Let’s leave it at that.”

Nethlia patted Autumn on the shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t worry so much — we’ll be careful and follow your advice. Besides, how are we even meant to talk with them? None of us speak their language.”

“It’s likely they can speak at least common, but just choose not to,” Autumn said, eyeing the nymphs distrustfully. 

“Wouldn’t that be considered rude?” Nelva asked with a raised eyebrow, although nobody could see it hidden behind her dangling ear. 

Autumn blinked. “It would, wouldn't it? Maybe if you mention that fact they’ll speak to you. What am I saying? We should just leave.” 

“Not a chance,” Liddie denied, before shaking Autumn as if to rattle information from the witch. “Now, tell us what they like! And what they don’t!”

Autumn rolled her eyes as she pried Liddie’s hands from her. “They like ephemeral things; memories, emotions, favors and pacts, even things not yet come to pass like a firstborn child or whatever. As for what they dislike? They care little for material possessions, so you should act like you don’t either if you want something good. However fae do like natural things like honey or gemstones. Not that you should be making bargains at all!”

“Hypocrite,” Pyre snorted.

Nethlia interceded before Autumn could snap back. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s just join our hosts before they think us rude.” She gave both younger girls a stern look, causing them to grumpily agree. 

Autumn turned to the red-headed nymph. “With conflicts now resolved, we express our interest in partaking in repose if your hospitality is freely given?”

The red-head gave her an annoyed look. “I hath said you art welcome, did I not? If you believed those three watery bints could influence my decision, then you are much mistaken. Come! Sit with me, fair witch of ragged hair and baggy eyes. Although, before you sit yourself beside my unsurpassed beauty, leave your weapons of iron behind.”

Autumn grumbled quietly beneath her breath but still relayed the nymph’s request to the others. Before she had even the time to blink, the others shucked off their arms and armor into the boat and rapidly descended upon the gathering of giggling nymphs. A blushing Eme cast Autumn an apologetic look as a trio comprising a dryad, an oread, and the lone aurae bragged her away. The witch blinked dumbly as she looked around at her friends and compatriots. Nethlia was sat between an oread and a blond nymph while Liddie slung her arms around the shoulders of the trio of naiads. Even Nelva, Pyre, and Edwyn ended up with somebody — a dark-haired nymph, a dryad, and an oread respectively. 

“It looks like you are with me,” the red-headed nymph said smugly.

“I suppose it does look like that, doesn’t it,” Autumn said as she unsheathed her blade and tucked it away into her belt before moving to sit at a distance from the naked fae. 

“Your wand,” the nymph said pointedly.

Autumn shrugged. “It is as much myself as my arm is. Are you asking me to discard that as well?”

“Whatever,” the nymph snorted. “Sit beside my wondrous self and give me a name to call you by, as I refuse to call you ‘the witch’ all the time.” Before Autumn could answer, she continued. “You know what? I don’t actually care. You can call me Physadeia.” 

Autumn raised an eyebrow. “You’d tell me your name?”

It was Physadeia this time that looked back at Autumn in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I? All should know my name, for none is better, and it’d be a shame for you not to hear it.”

“Right.” Autumn rolled her eyes. 

Fear roiled within the witch’s hat, dark and constrained. Ever since she’d gotten it, Autumn had always stuffed her fear into its deepest depths, not allowing even a sliver to pollute her mind and strangle her limbs with fright. However, just this once, she allowed the tiniest amount to flow back and reminded her that the beautiful maiden sitting across from her was but a monster chained by vanity and hospitality. Autumn’s eyes dilated as her heartbeat picked up. 

Physadeia stared at the tense witch as she lounged in the cool waters. “You can relax, you know? Take off your clothes and join me in the water.”

“I’m good.”

“Clearly,” Physadeia snorted. “You may as well get rid of your clothes anyway — who put that travesty together? They ought to be punished for such a slight.”

Autumn glared. “I did.”

“So, you not only have terrible hair and skin care, but bad fashion sense as well?” Physadeia asked rhetorically. “Honestly, you’re more work than it’s worth.”

“Do you have a point or are you just trying to annoy me?” Autumn gritted her teeth as she clenched her fists, her fingernails biting into her skin. 

Physadeia huffed, turning her eyes away from Autumn barely contained emotions — fear turning to rage. “You needn’t be afraid of us — we are more afraid of you.”

“How so?” Autumn asked with narrow eyes. 

Rather than answer directly, the nymph nodded off to the other members of her party. Autumn followed her eyes, alighting upon Nethlia. “What could any of them do if angered by us, hmm? What could she do? Break these bodies of ours, yes, but could she turn our rivers to poison with a brew? Carve and cut every tree? Break every rock? Could she twist our beauty with a curse or foul look? No, she or any of them could truly kill us — well, maybe the alchemist, but that’s besides the point.” She turned her gaze upon Autumn. “So yes, we are afraid of the witch strolling through our lands, even if she isn’t the prettiest to look at. Have some pride in that, would you? It’s insulting to be afraid of someone so…mundane.”

Autumn was silent for a while, before she simply asked, “what do you want?”

The nymph smiled.

wasteawar

Also, if you have any ideas for fae stuff, let me know. I've been having trouble thinking of what Autumn would be willing to risk herself for as everything she could want is within either the Tome of Witchcraft or Necromancy Spell-book. :/