Splinterlands Fantasy Story and Music Contest // Week 27 - Revenge of the Souls

Once upon a time... there was a battle.

Many, many moons ago, the mages of a remote forest in Anumun were gathering, to celebrate the summer solstice.

The solstice was considered the most important time of the year for a mage: the energy that day could be felt in levels no other day could even come close; it was a time to connect with the ancient spirits, and awaken dormant powers.

But in that year, a shadow was upon them. For there were those in the nearest city that weren't fond of such gatherings.

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For years, the people of the woods and the ones from the city lived in balance, not medling in each others lives, but coexisting in peace. The city was in the outskirts of that forest, and anyone was allowed to enter the woods... if one came in peace. That forest was considered sacred to the mages, and since both communities settled in that location, it was known not a single creature could be harmed there, not without consequences.

In the last couple of years, everything changed, when the old town mayor died, and his son took his place. And for him, life in the woods, magic, and compassion to the creatures of the forest were things he loathed. Hunting, fighting, ruling with an iron fist were more to his liking. And so, the hate for that way of life simply grew.

He never dared to enter the forest with ill intentions, no. As much as he wanted to, he knew the ancient rules couldn't be broken without consequences, and although no mage carried arms, he knew they were powerful figthers. But rumours started to appear, that a plan to change the mage's way of life was brewing.

---

Some in the forest grew worried, but the older mages were calm.

His father was a tough man, but a corageous one. His son is a coward; and he will do us no harm, they would say.

It all changed that day.

I said once upon a time, there was a battle. But maybe we shouldn't call it a battle.

It was a massacre. For both sides.

Truth be told, the old ones were partially right. The city ruler never set foot off his castle. But the horde of mercernaries he hired, and with whom he plotted to bring an end to the mages, those stormed the forest. And with all the energy flowing, the mages concentrated deeply in their rituals, and the creatures of the forest enjoying the sweet energy flow... the treachery was discovered too late.

---

Hundreds of lives were lost that day. Arrows, spears, swords; energy bursts, lightnings, spells, they all made victims. And as the sun rose, in the following morning, no mercenary was breathing. Unfortunately, most of the mages weren't alive either. What was a place for celebration, filled with tangled flowers and bushes the day before, was now transformed in a graveyard.

The few surviving mages, still refusing to believe in the horror that came to them, started to gather, when word came to them: an emissary of the city was standing at the entrance of the forest, alone.

The oldest mage alive took it upon him.

“Prepare for the ritual. Our brothers need to leave to the other world in a proper manner. I will deal with this.”

And later that morning, he was face to face with the envoy.

“My lord wishes to send his condolences. We received news of the horrible tragedy that came upo...”

He stopped talking, and his face turned pale as ne noticed the blue haze on the old mage's hands. The hard look on the old man's face said it all: calm on the outside, but roaring in rage on the inside.

“So you claim... that non of this was the city's doing? That the horde of mercenaries decided to enter the forest and butcher whatever they encountered... because they felt like it? And the increase of guards in the city and all around your... ruler's castle today, is it just casual?”

The envoy's face turned even paler as he heard the last phrase. But the mage continued, undisturbed.

“Cowards, all of you. Fear not, I will not harm you, as much as I wanted to. From this day forth, no one will enter the forest; we shall have no more violence on these grounds. And let it be known, when you return: ancient rules were broken, and evil deeds will not go unpunished... the spirits will make sure of it. Now go, before my rage grows beyond my control”.

And having said that, he turned his back, and entered the forest again.

---

In that night, the joy from the previous days gave way to sadness. Bonfires were lit, songs were ssang, tears were spilled, while the few remaining druids together with the creatures of the forest mourned the fallen loved ones. And when the faint hazes started to flow all around, high into the air, all rejoyced, as they believed they were witnessing the souls leaving to the afterlife.

The eyes of the spirit of the forest met the old mage. And as their eyes met, they both confirmed their suspicions. The ancient ones had knowledge most wouldn't dream of, and the true meaning of the hazes was clear to both.

Only one of the young mages aproached the elder.

“I don't feel right. I should be calmer now, but the spirits are making me feel... bad. Is this normal, master?

The mage could only make a sad grin. “Most spirits bring good energy. Some... not so good. And when they're filled with anger and rage, sometimes they take forms that would be better left forgotten” And he proceeded, as he saw the confusion on the young pupil's face. “Fear not, young one. What you feel is normal, and one day you'll know the reason why.”

And so it shall be were the last words that were spoken by the old man that night.

---

Meanwhile in the city, an angry ruler was still awake as well, shouting commands and gathering with more troops inside the castle.

“Who does he think he is, threatening me??” That was the phrase everyone heard the most that night, as the envoy delivered the mage's message. “That forest will be mine to rule as I please!”. The vain threats and the insults were only interrupted when someone shouted:

“What kind of sorcery is this?”

All the heads then turned to the haze that was flowing through the stone walls, and watched as it grew thicker and thicker. No one moved, watching in terror a blurred shape forming, until a pair of red, furious eyes, appeared.

Not a sound was heard, but a voice echoed in all the heads present in the room.

“Most souls of the forest leave their vessels on this earth, and part peacefully to the afterlife. But sometimes... there's too much rage, too much anger... and one cannot leave in peace.”

More guards entered the room, as the city ruler shielded himself behind them, he shouted.

“This has got to be some kind of sorcery from that evil mage!” And turning to the creature, continued “State your intentions! Or even better, leave! Or we will destroy you!”

What could be interpreted as an evil grin, appeared on the fallen spectre's face.

“Leave? I hope to, yes. Some day. When anger subsides. My soul can't leave yet. That's why I came... for you. Or better... WE came.”

Arrows still flew in the direction of the specter, and were dodged without effort, as more and entered the saloon. Screams were heard, and a few moments later the haze was all around, as the souls of the fallen, filled with anger, came to claim their revenge. No harm was done to the unarmed, as the specters roamed the castle. But the same couldn't be told about the ones who tried to battle them.

---

Even in recent times, it is said that in the darkest nights, some specters still appear; the ones that still have some anger within, protecting the forest from evil intentions.

Some say it's just imagination, some swear they are real. Nevertheless... from that day, no villager ever tried to enter the forest again.

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