TU18. The Forestry

"Stop!" Aurora reined in sharply as they arrived at the edge of the dark forest.

Above them, a thick canopy interlaced like gnarled fingers, choking out the sunlight before it could reach the grassy floor. Her divine steed neighed nervously and trotted in place. Its hooves stomped the ground with heavy thuds, as though its animalistic instinct had picked up on the suffocating, eerie atmosphere.

The sheer density of the large willow trees, with their hanging, vine-draped branches, looked akin to the unkempt hair of weeping witches. Chilly air hissed through the small gaps in the foliage, creating a soft, continuous whispering.

It was ethereal. Dreamlike.

Then came a ghostly shriek from overhead — a barn owl. Its long, harsh, hissing cry shattered the silence, a sudden burst of chaos designed to strike fright into the hearts of men.

Thump, thump. Aurora's heart beat wildly in her ears. It was merely her instincts reacting to the sudden stimulus, she reckoned, forcing herself to calm down.

"It seems this place is haunted," Aurora murmured, gracefully dismounting from her mare.

Continuing on horseback would likely attract unwanted attention, especially if the enemy managed to reestablish their aerial surveillance. With that in mind, they needed to proceed on foot from here on out. She gently traced her palm down the steed's protruding snout before dismissing the creature into a flurry of light specks.

A pair of large, shadowy wings fluttered beside her as Thanatos manifested into his two-metre-tall humanoid form. The bone-white surface of his mask glinted faintly against the dimly lit ambience.

"Do phantoms exist in these parts as well?" Aurora asked, arching her brows at the entity of death.

"Perhaps," he clipped, holding back a cryptic smile.

She rested her hands on her hips, feeling the cold metallic skirt brush against her palms, and exhaled a long sigh. He often acted like that when he didn't actually know the answer; she could already read him like a book.

Aurora spun around, surveying her surroundings. The dark forest was not simply void of light. Upon closer inspection, black mist drifted like sentient serpents across the forest floor.

Shutting her eyes, Aurora sniffed the air. "Arcane…"

As if her ears were playing a trick on her, a series of playful chuckles rang out from no specific direction. She snapped her head to the right, then the left.

But there was nothing. Only the drifting black mist.

"Did you hear that?" she hissed at Thanatos, who remained entirely unbothered in his usual crossed-arm posture.

"No," he replied.

"There! A female giggle!" Aurora snapped, pointing at a flitting shadow behind a tree a dozen strides away. But in the blink of an eye, nothing was there.

Annoyed, Aurora found herself gritting her teeth. Challenging her in direct combat was one thing, but playing ghostly tricks was something she was distinctly not fond of.

Ignoring the haunting noises that seemed to echo from every direction, she closed her eyes. Her sense of hearing heightened. She tilted her pointed ears, searching and triangulating the faint echoes to pinpoint the real source. Her closed eyes danced rapidly under their lids in anticipation.

Then, she bolted.

In a fraction of a second, she crossed the distance. Her claws arched through the chill air and snatched onto something made of solid flesh and bone.

"Phantom, is it?!" Aurora growled at the pale face caught in her grasp. For what it was worth, the lady appeared entirely human.

"Eeek—Don't hurt me!" the female wailed, clutching frantically at Aurora's gauntlet, though her physical strength was far less than the Empress's.

Aurora stared down into a pair of emerald eyes wide with absolute terror. "Answer, now!" She slowly added pressure around the girl's neck. The female heaved, saliva dripping from her slack jaw as she struggled to breathe.

"I'm—I'm…" she attempted to speak, breathless.

Realising her own monstrous strength, Aurora gently loosened her grip, allowing the lady some air. The dark-haired girl coughed fitfully a few times before speaking up.

"I'm a dryad of Cathun Forest. I meant you no harm! I only meant to scare you away—Please let me go, I'm just trying to protect these trees!"

The Empress let go completely, and the dryad dropped to the ground, hyperventilating.

Meanwhile, Aurora studied the forest nymph. There were no discernible, otherworldly features like the ancient mythos foretold. This dryad looked exactly like a normal young human adult, draped in an ancient, single-piece robe that was teal in shade.

"What's your name, Little Nymph?" Thanatos asked, casually offering his hand.

Still coughing infuriatingly, with tears brimming in her eyes, she cleared her throat. "I… I'm Daphia."

When she made no move to take it, Thanatos simply retracted his palm to rest it on his opposite forearm.

Aurora drifted closer, her sharp glare pinned firmly on the nymph. "Why did you attack us?" she demanded flatly.

The question startled the girl, her face turning yet another shade of stark white.

"I didn't try to attack you," Daphia blurted in defence. "I heard the wailing of the trees through the wind. Oh, they were crying in agony, saying that death and destruction shall soon fall upon us."

Thanatos slowly turned his head to look at Aurora. Even without seeing his face, the accusing glare radiating through the sockets of his mask was palpable.

"I… My name's Aurora," the Empress said, feeling a sudden lump form in her throat. "And I apologise."

By all means, she did feel deeply guilty about the explosion she had unleashed earlier. Even here, her immense power carried grave consequences if not executed mindfully.

"It's fine… The trees always whisper lots about everything and nothing." The dryad fidgeted nervously with the hem of her clothes. "Does-does that mean you'll let me go?" she stuttered, her voice pitching an octave higher.

"I do not mean you any harm, nor the forest or the trees here," Aurora stated frankly. "I didn't realise the trees here could speak, let alone were capable of emotions."

"They aren't," Thanatos corrected her with a raised finger.

"Of course, they are! They warned me about you two!" Daphia argued back, stubbornly sticking her hands under her armpits like a petulant child.

Thanatos waved her off dismissively and turned back to his companion. "Well, believe me, I never reap the soul of a tree. They do not possess souls like mortals do."

"Reap a soul?" Daphia smiled wryly. "Stop acting like a Grim Reaper! You may dress like him, but you'll never be Death himself!"

"How dare you, woodbrain!" Thanatos hissed.

"Woodbrain?! That's rich coming from you. How about you, deadbrain?" the nymph countered hotly.

Their banter grew increasingly loud, and Aurora felt an overwhelming urge to sigh.

"Daphia! This is… The Thanatos." She gestured toward the masked god with an open palm.

"Well, even if he was, he looks quite ugly in person." Daphia snapped her head to the side, her ears thoroughly closed to whatever squealing riposte was about to come out of Thanatos.

"Guys… I don't have all day," Aurora snapped, raising her voice. That seemed to freeze the two in place. She turned her full attention back to the dryad. "Let's be frank. I am on a quest to liberate the prisoners who are wrongfully imprisoned against their will. I need to find where they are."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Imprisoned in Tartarus? You mean the Cyclopes?" Daphia asked, her innocent emerald eyes blinking slowly.

"Exactly!" Aurora's face lit up with hope.

"They are my friends!" Daphia yipped excitedly.

"Do you know where to find them? Can you grant us passage to Drakon Mountain? I need to get to the Forge."

"The Forge?" She blinked, confused.

Thanatos sighed in reprimand. "The place with fire and smoke past the mountain wall, where they turn stone into weaponry and armaments."

"Ohhh! I knew that!" Daphia hissed with brief discontent before flashing a massive, sunny smile at Aurora. "I know where it is!"

She chirped happily and spun nimbly on her bare heels before pointing at a distant mountain ridge. "It's over there!"

Aurora exchanged a long glance with her masked companion, as if to say that was much easier than expected.

The human-looking dryad skipped barefoot through the woods, the flourishing grass magically softening to cushion her steps. Her lips perpetually sang a collection of children's songs, acting as if she were the undisputed owner of the forest, as they went uphill and downhill, over the river, and uphill once again. Somehow, the eerie atmosphere they had encountered earlier was just Daphia's own magic at play — the illusions and the black mist alike. Now that the hostility was gone, the walk was much livelier.

"Are there more of you?" Aurora asked, lengthening her stride to match pace with their new companion.

"Nu-uh!" Daphia shook her head emphatically. "I've been here for years and haven't seen anything else like me! Before I knew it, everywhere and every whisper was all about those red, ugly things, you know?"

"Mm…" Aurora drew her lips into a thin, contemplative line. "So you don't remember how you got here in the first place?"

Daphia bit her lip, her finger nudging her lower lip as if coaxing the distant memories to return. After a long moment, she offered nothing but a clueless chuckle.

"A forest nymph is incredibly rare… But, more importantly, they are immortal or near-immortal," Thanatos interjected, eventually deciding to join the conversation.

"It must be very lonely…" Aurora found herself murmuring. There was another type of loneliness embedded deep within her own soul. That shared feeling led her to understand Daphia, more or less.

"Not really." Daphia brushed her palms affectionately against the bark of a passing maple tree. "They keep me company. Sometimes a bit too much, heheh."

"I see…" Aurora hummed softly, reaching out to rest her palm next to Daphia's on the rough bark.

"Immortality affects your memories in a certain way," Thanatos stated to no one in particular.

"What? I'm not stupid or anything!" the dryad blurted indignantly, jabbing an accusatory finger at the tall god.

Aurora had to step in, raising her hands in the air to play peacekeeper. "I think he meant your earliest memories get erased, or turn foggy, if you live for so long." She watched the faint glint in Thanatos's masked eyes, though she couldn't entirely comprehend the weight behind his gaze.

"Oh! That must be it!" Daphia bobbed her head. "I feel like I've been here since forever! Even trees wither and die when they get old." She looked at the soft pink skin of her palms. For as long as she remembered, they had never changed, no signs of aging whatsoever.

"Finally, something we can agree on." Thanatos performed a mock bow, his majestic cloak fluttering outward.

"You knew something I didn't, again," Aurora grumbled to herself. She already knew that if he had ever planned to tell her, he would have done so then and there.

Eventually, the trio emerged from the treeline. The thick canopy gave way to the dark granite of the mountain. The imposing wall was incredibly steep, stacking so high they had to strain their necks just to find its peak.

"Do you expect us to climb this?" Aurora asked.

"Nope!" Daphia chirped, a giggle slipping through her fingers.

She pressed her palms against the solid rock. Instantly, the hard granite rippled and dissipated, revealing a massive opening that resembled a grand doorway.

"Whoa…" Aurora gasped, peering down the long tunnel toward the blinding light at its end. Her ears caught the rhythmic banging of metal and the sizzling hiss of vaporisation. "The Forge?" She turned to the dryad.

The girl hummed, flashing a sly grin at Thanatos. "Let's go! We demand liberation!" she cheered.

As Daphia stomped ahead, Aurora nudged Thanatos with her elbow. "She's quite a handful for a dryad, isn't she?"

"Heh," he scoffed. "She couldn't scare a mouse with that attitude."

"Haha." Aurora chuckled deep in her throat, and even the god of death found himself momentarily speechless.

Silently, they followed the girl into the accessway. As they neared the exit, a loud ruckus erupted just a dozen strides away.

Immediately, Aurora grabbed Daphia's hand, pulling her close. She pressed a pointer finger to her own lips, shushing her. Daphia swallowed hard. They peered out carefully. Amber light painted the flat stone walls and the enormous metallic hearth of the Forge. A one-eyed monstrosity of a man lay on the dirt floor, wincing heavily.

"You stupid, lying cunt!" a horned demon hissed, clutching a heavy flail tightly in his hands.

The other Cyclopes and condemned souls were clustered together, their whimpering pathetic and submissive. Without a doubt, sheer fear clouded their eyes.

Their leader, however, held his gaze steady on the red demon. The fight still burning within him was unlike any other.

"You lied through your teeth, making up numbers!" The demon growled and violently whipped his flail at the cyclops.

Marcus raised his thick arm to guard. The sharp spikes dug deep into his flesh. Pain fired through his nerves, drawing out a restrained, guttural squeal.

From their corner, Aurora and Daphia crouched behind a large slab of stone, observing the brutal scene from a safe distance. But Thanatos had disappeared into thin air.

"Should we help them?" Daphia whispered, a deep frown creasing her forehead.

"No," Aurora clipped.

"Why?"

"Wait and see for yourself." Aurora gestured with two fingers, her pale visage glowing softly in the ambient amber light.

Daphia choked out, "But—"

Believe… Thanatos's voice rang directly inside their heads.

Out in the crowded yard, the demon swung his flail experimentally, the spiked weapon cutting the air with a vicious swoosh.

"You shall be punished with one hundred lashes like this!" His lips spread into an unnaturally wide, sadistic grin. "Make it one thousand!"

"Even so..." Marcus rasped, his one eye unblinking. Long, curly hair stuck to his sweat-drenched face. His posture stiffened, becoming as resolute as the composite steel he forged.

"Fool!" The demon whipped the flail at the Forgemaster again.

Marcus caught the spiked chain with his calloused palms.

"Ugh!" The demon yanked back several times, desperately trying to free his weapon, until he was finally forced to let go.

With beads of blood trickling down his massive forearms, Marcus rose to his full height. "I will make sure, with my life, that the Forge will never burn for you demons again!" Marcus unleashed a thundering roar.

"Hahaha!" The demon laughed boisterously, spraying spit everywhere. "How foolish you are! We are legions! Your little game ends here, or I'll make sure every last one of you knows… pain."

The demon emphasised the last word. To his surprise, he suddenly found himself entirely surrounded by the slaves.

Something in their eyes had fundamentally changed.

"What a bunch of fools! I'll make a show out of you," the demon spat, pointing directly at the Forgemaster. "Starting with you."

The demon feinted a lash.

Marcus planted his feet, his left knee coiling tightly to gather momentum.

"Hell!" Marcus growled as the smiling demon suddenly lashed upward instead.

"Slow! Weak!" the demon howled with twisted joy.

A loud snap echoed as the iron spikes bit viciously into Marcus's side. The cyclops gritted his teeth, his massive frame stumbling sideways from the impact.

"Suffer and die!" The demon drew his flail back over his opposite shoulder, preparing for a devastating vertical strike.

Marcus hissed, sucking in air as his toes dug firmly into the stone floor.

Swoosh.

The flail slashed through empty air. Marcus had ducked, narrowly dodging the devastating blow.

"YAAAH!" A powerful roar erupted from the wild cyclops as he charged forward.

His massive muscles crashed into the demon, echoing with a bone-rattling thud.

The crowd's jaws dropped, but a split second later, their lips parted to cheer fiercely for their leader.

Marcus and the demon slammed into the ground together, cracking the solid stone beneath them. The air was violently sucked from the demon's lungs. His eyes bulged in horror at the sight of the flying fist descending toward him.

Knuckles smashed into the demon's face, moulding his nose and mouth into the brutal shape of Marcus's fist.

"Ah!" The demon screamed in absolute terror, swiping his claws uselessly at his massive attacker.

Marcus clamped his enormous hands around the demon's temples. With a sickening crunch, he crushed the skull. Blood spattered across the cyclops's unblinking eye. Bone, eyes, and flesh mingled into a gruesome, indistinguishable paste.

Panting heavily, the Forgemaster stepped back and wiped his bloody hands on his thick leather apron. The crowd went completely wild. Cheers and whistles erupted as though they were bloodthirsty spectators in an arena.

"Liberation! Freedom! Liberation!" they chanted in booming unison.

The roaring continued until Marcus raised his bloodied fist high into the air, instantly bringing the crowd to a hushed, reverent silence. A shorter cyclops emerged from the throng carrying a heavy war hammer. With a deeply respectful bow, he presented it to the Forgemaster.

Marcus nodded sharply, taking the weapon in hand.

"They thought they could control us with just one demon. They thought punishing us, wounding us, would make us fearful. They thought pain and suffering would crush us into submission," Marcus rasped, his voice cracking with raw emotion. "They were wrong."

Sweeping his large eye over the crowd, he made sure to see and remember every single face looking up at him. "For our fallen brothers and sisters, we shall end their reign of terror now!"

With his tone rising to a triumphant crescendo, Marcus declared, "We are no longer Tartarian slaves! We are Tartarians!"

The crowd cheered at the top of their lungs. For a long moment, Aurora thought the deafening roar would never die down. It carried the immense, crushing weight of hundreds, if not thousands, of years of oppression.

"That's it? They won?" Daphia exclaimed, wholly incredulous. "We're too late?"

"It's merely the beginning," Aurora replied, her voice softening.

She knew enough of history to see exactly how this would play out. Blood, and much more of it, was destined to follow. Revolution demanded sacrifice, and as cruel as it was, success was never guaranteed.