Sephora ventures into the feywild to confront an archfey, but having an unfamiliar team will mean trouble against a formidable foe.

A standalone encounter set in the world of Panditerrelle, capturing a single moment of conflict rather than a complete narrative arc.

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About 150 years ago, in the Profune Forest of Tèathalla.

– Begin Entry –

From the cool comfort of her lavish study, Sephora sifted through shelves of rolled-up scrolls, taking in the musty scent of old parchment. She traced her finger over the labels written on the outside of each scroll.

Neólida. She’d overlooked this one. The spell inscribed would greatly boost the stout dwarf Dirk’s physical stature – a suitable complement to the crafty druid’s reported skillset for the upcoming battle.

Sephora plucked out the scroll, untied the binding, and went to a basin containing a small mound of ash. Her four allies, including Dirk, were gathered around it, expectantly watching her approach. Having a room’s attention had never bothered Sephora.

“Kàna aushù,” Sephora closed her eyes and professed the words. They had to be said precisely: only perfect tone and state of mind would produce magic from the ancient language. A triviality for Sephora when it came to the spell kàna aushù. The incantation drew in violet arcane energy like water vapor.

She opened her eyes. The runic symbols on the parchment began to glow violet, and the text unravelled before her eyes. A litany of rites flowed freely out of Sephora’s mouth on its own, punctuated with the anchor word.

“Neólida!”

The center of the scroll ignited and the flames slowly consumed the parchment. It smelled of smoke, though it did not burn Sephora’s hands. The ashes it left behind crumbled and fell, adding to the mound in the basin.

A violet mist condensed around Dirk and soaked into his skin.

Dirk heaved and fell to his knees, shouting in discomfort. In a matter of seconds, his physique doubled in size. His muscles rippled, legs bulged, and abs tightened, causing his leather armor to creak.

Dirk slowed his breathing and stood upright. 

He picked up his axe. “Ha!” Surprised at his own strength, he lifted it much higher than intended. He stepped to a clearing in the study and flourished the axe, whipping it through the air and laughing louder the more he swung.

The others gathered by the basin smiled at Dirk’s contagious laughter.

Sephora did not smile. If Dirk was as experienced a mercenary as the recruiters said he was, this would not be his first encounter with advanced magic like this, though it appeared it was. Sephora concluded the lump sum offered to Dirk had motivated him to overstate his experience.

Sephora missed her old allies, her friends who believed in a greater cause, not just lining their pockets with gold. But Sephora’s friends had been kidnapped, and she needed the help.

Her new team had not trained together or learned the battle strategies she’d studied, but doing so was a luxury Sephora could not afford. Instead, they’d improvise, meaning all of her tactical education was for nothing.

Regardless, Sephora had to strike immediately, before the archfey Adoh Duskfall could plot to kill her new teammates, or worse, kidnap and forcefully enlist them, adding to his own Twilight Army.

Nothing else in Sephora’s tome or on the study’s shelves could further empower her teammates. It was time to face the inevitable battle with the archfey.

Sephora signaled Dirk to create a portal to the feywild. Reportedly, he could get the squad close to Adoh Duskfall’s last known whereabouts.

An oval of marbled orange and black materialized. Despite herself, Sephora gripped her quarterstaff and stepped forward into the portal. All sensations – the cool air, the parchment’s scent – vanished to numbness. The feywild put her in an unnerving dream state where her brain did not register most of the environmental forces acting on her body. It was a sensation she could never get used to.

The orange light blinded her, and her stomach floated into her throat as the floor faded. She began to freefall, and she screamed and flailed as grey clouds visibly, but silently and numbly, whipped past her ears.

–Splrtsh-

Sephora landed on her back, rebounding off an exceptionally squishy and sticky substance. A lucky landing? Or was Dirk’s aim with the spell that precise? Either way, her bones ached, but nothing felt broken. Sephora rolled over and slowly started sinking in.

The ground was a strange lime-colored moss, and it tethered to her sleeve like wet dough. Nothing like the everyday vegetation back home in the Profune Forest’s quaint glens.

Cushy as this feywild moss was for absorbing falls, the surface would be problematic for tactical movement, and likely toxic.

Felix, a hired felino spearman who was curious to a fault, had also landed safely nearby. He sniffed a fistful of the stuff, considering a bite.

“Don’t!” Sephora scolded, and Felix’s cat ears drooped. Oh, don’t give me that look. It probably has no taste anyways. 

When Felix dropped the specimen, it dangled from the pads of his paw until the strands snapped and it splatted on the ground.

There was a vast field of the moss, with a smattering of bumpy boulders and crooked trees throughout. With some effort, Sephora got to her feet.

Floating above the moss, a twisted and wretched-faced person looked back at her. Finding Adoh Duskfall was troublingly easier than anticipated. His knowing grin suggested he had been awaiting their arrival.

Sephora sized up the so-called Twilight Trickster. “Look alive, gang!”

The archfey looked like a street magician, wearing a black tuxedo, orange tie, and an unwieldy top-hat. He smiled like a jack-o-lantern, his warped face suggested one of his magic tricks had gone awry many years ago.

He swayed back and forth in the air, looking oh-so smug. Disgusting.

Sephora gave a nod to each of her allies around her, confirming they were ready for battle.

When she nodded to Dirk, he nodded back, grinning with foolish confidence. A sudden puff of smoke shrouded him, and he was gone. With another puff, he reappeared on one of the boulders

–as well as on a nearby tree stump. There were two Dirks… but no Adoh Duskfall.

The Dirks locked eyes with each other.

One of them – the one on the boulder – yelled, “Hey! I’m the real one. I’ve been transported!”

“Whoa, hold on!” The second Dirk’s voice was indistinguishable from the first. “Don’t listen to that imposter, he’s the Twilight Trickster. Attack him!”

Both Dirks grinned confidently at Sephora, one a little more crookedly than the other. But was it too crooked? Sephora saw Dirk’s grin moments ago, but the tips of her mind’s fingers narrowly grazed the fleeting memory as she grasped for it.

Blast it! Sephora knew better than to take her eyes off the enemy. A basic mistake. But she had, and now there was no telling which manifestation of Dirk was friend or foe.

Twilight Trickster indeed. Even trickier than Sephora had expected.

Sephora examined the Dirks as each readied his quarterstaff. She knew not what cues to look for.

Her old friend Franco wielded his sword with an unorthodox grip that no other swordsman could replicate. Or Alli – Sephora had a code word with her in case of an event just like this. Sephora prayed Franco and Alli had not yet succumbed to joining the Twilight Army.

Dirk, on the other hand, was a closed book to Sephora.

There was no going back to the days of competent teamwork. Sephora readied her tome and racked her brain for a suitable battle strategy. She would have to depend on her instincts more than ever before to survive this one.

– End of entry. –