One of them looks familiar, very like how she herself had looked until a couple of days ago.
Fred the Faire Folke
Now, awhile ago my new friends made mention of the fact that one of the accursed back on "Nantucket Earth" (what a strange name for a world..... "Earth"......similar to "Dirt") had a rather negative reaction to one woman named Inquirer when he saw the red barrette she wore (re: 15618). Something in their developing nature took over for a moment and made them act strangely out of character......
Just as this.....creature before us does now!
Oh, I guess I should have realized it earlier, but I was too busy being distracted by that cold.... cold presence of the Unseelie curse trying to reach out and ensnare me....despite it being too late..... I'm too far gone into Seelie territory for it to reverse me now (perhaps it's too late for this "Chrystallic" to do anything in that area as well......I only hope that if that is the case this magical item can help the others). I keep this fear to myself, however. I know that since I've been touched by this curse......that I must participate in the cure.....or all will be for naught. Anyway, all these thoughts are flirting through my mind and I fail to note the strange....evilly fey look that comes to this poor wretch's face a split second before it (she?) roars and dives at me..... it's first intended victim to seal it's change permanently with the blood of a victim....
I shout and swoop out of the way (having wings....is rather exhilarating), all the while fighting the urge to caste a defensive spell that all of the faire folk know instinctively. That and I also fight the urge to call forth from the aether a fairy sword coated with a sleeping toxin (making the otherwise silly thing effective against man sized and larger creatures).
All faire folk have this ability, and if I use them I seal the transformation on myself and seal the doom for this poor wretch trying to attack me and those other unfortunates as well....
I blink when I see what I think is an analog of Astra (if one uses their imagination you'd see the underlying truth to the partly transformed goblin creature before us) leap at the strangely silent Fred the fairy.
Working on reflex, I leap out and pivot on my hip as I intercept the still leaping creature. I redirect the leap to cause her to land in a heap in some nearby bushes.
Apparently the bestial side of the woman has eclipsed her warrior reflexes, or else I'd rather doubt I'd have been able to so easily have thrown her. Despite all my centuries of practice of the martial arts (in addition to the meditation techniques I'd learned under the Eastern Dragons of my world), neither the Freds or Astras I've met are easy meat. Oh, I'm sure I could take them in hand to hand combat, especially after what I've learned in sparing with my liege lord, Count Probe.....but that's neither here or there...
The goblin/woman rises, shakes her head and then gives off a despairing moan.
"What in the name of the gods am I doing?" she whispers, horror in her voice.
"Are you under control, now?" Andrea calls to her, spell ready to knock her out if need be.
"Do you recognize us?" Astra 9 calls out, knowing that if this is the one they actually sought AND she had herself under control, then she'd recognize (or actually....mistake them) for the Jarlath 2's group (with the exception of the male pixie named Fred).
"I....my name is Thessamar ix'latl...and I'm a fool," she says softly (noting a hard rasp in her voice....now), "As for you all.....except the male pixie and the dragon mage.....are the friends from the Red Pyramid..... I...... think?"
There was something suitably different about them that she just couldn't put her finger on here....
She then blinks again, wondering just how she knew that the stranger in this group is a dragon mage.....
Hmmm, the curse at work....I think, I think to myself, recognizing an innate fairy ability in the works here.
"Please.....is there something you can do......?" the proud warrior woman asks silently, pleading.
"That's why we're here," Jarlath says, smiling as he pulls out the Key.
The teleporting had worked last time when his group had been deflected by a bit on Fred 5a's world. Maybe the Key would be able to work again without having to be taken to the intended insertion co-ordinates on this world....
"Here we go," I say, just before we....vanish.
They all disappear without a flash of light, teleported by a hybrid of magic and science....and the one's who'd been watching silently and speaking silently (unheard) in quiet discussion on how to deal with the perversion before them (Thessamar ix'latl)....gape openly in surprise.
It had been so quickly done that they'd not even had a chance to use a spell to keep track of where these.....humans and such (but not mortals) were heading. Even then, such was the power of King Oberon and the Queen of the Light Elves (Queen Chimalos), that they should be able to tell where these others go...even if to other realities than this.
That's how they'd been able to seek out and finally catch the Oracle after a mere decade (a short time indeed for the Faire folk) on the hunt. Indeed, they'd expected to take twice as long (four decades could be spent away before these rulers feared for their respective courts....the world of the Faire Folk was a slow....stately progression....much unlike the hustle and bustle of mortal life). But now.....
"Where did they go?" Oberon asks, feeling stupid for having blurted out that silly question.
"I know not," the Queen answers truthfully, composing herself, "But I fear out business now, by need, is at an end. There is nothing more for it, alas."
"Indeed," Oberon sighs, chalking this up as on par in strangeness with that odd business with the "lateral" transfer of that one other adult human being turned fairy woman (re: 13547).
The King disappears, longing to now return to his wife, Titania. As he goes, he silently berates himself for having been so foolish to ignore her....instead dallying with mortal lasses instead. That one midsummers night had....as the mortals had put it....been a "walk up call" for the proud, olden King of the Faire Folk. Puck had asked the heavens "What fools the mortals be...." that night. Oberon now admitted, silently, that he'd been much more the fool than any ten mortals combined......until now.
When and if that transformation was finally completed on that young pixie, Oberon would then feel it in his bones....and thus would then be able to track him and the others down. Until then....back to his Court....and his wife!
The Queen of the Light Elves gives a small sigh, also putting this into her mind this event being on par with her own strange encounter with those odd Light Elf changelings earlier (re: 13551). She had royal business to attend to....and an never ending war against her Dark Elven foes. Time to get back to it.
Thus was left behind the ones called Pablo and Jossie. The spell that had altered Pablo's features to that of a young "jet setter" soon fails (not being renewed by the Oracle), as well as the translater spell. Pablo gets deported to a strange nation he's never heard of.....but who speak a language similar to his home tongue. The place is called "France." Pablo finds he's soon reduced to a lifestyle even worse than what he enjoyed as a poor member of the D'Honaire clan. A lowly menial worker.... Jossie....soon gets picked up for being....overly friendly with the local males. The local police soon find her to be a regular visitor to their jail for that....business.
Such is life, unfortunately for some.
Back on Terra Prime
"Didn't I just teleport you already?" Dr. Vincent asks in an odd voice.
"We did before but we haven't already yet," Jarlath explained helpfully.
Vincent looked at him blankly.
"The Doctor is involved," Astra 9 sighed.
"Oh! That explains it all," Dr. Vincent Priceless chuckles, right before sending the Champions back to Nantucket Earth.
He then turns to the two Bobos and sighs.
5/31/2001 5:38:43 AM
The Never Ending Quest Home
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