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Fador the Faun


Fador the Faun

What I'm about to tell you is a lie, although not a complete lie. Some parts happened, but I will leave that up to you to decide.

Long ago, but not too long, there lived a Faun named Fador. His life was simple and primarily merry. He enjoyed making the forest animals happy with his songs and, occasionally, played a prank on an unsuspecting creature. So, it may come as a great surprise when I tell you that Fador was almost always lonely. His smile and silly behavior managed to cover the darkness that dwelled deep in his heart. Life had begun to drag on day after day. Fedor began to contemplate whether he should visit the Gorgans, gaze upon their faces, and instantly turn to stone. His heart was heavy and cold without warmth or passion. A mechanical beat that served to remind him that time marched on whether he liked it or not. He had not always been this way; in the before time, the long, long ago, Fador's life was a carefree existence. That changed when the "Dark One" came.

Mörken and his Troth savaged the meadows of Talitha for its gold, silver, and, most notably, its iron. The iron was forged into weapons used to massacre animals who were foolish enough to fight back. The Fauns fought valiantly against the oncoming storm, but, in the end, only a handful remained. The survivors banded together and fled for the ancient forest of Älskad, where they lived as refugees. Fador never let go of the images of the battle to save his home. They haunt his dreams, twisting his soul until it's ready to burst. This is the dark secret he hides with a friendly smile or witty joke. 

Recently, Thuman the forest troll traveled outside the wood to learn more of Mörken's plans. Upon his return, the tales of the devastation wrought upon Talitha only pushed Fador to give up all hope of returning to his meadow. He longed to lie in the tall grass and watch the bees dance across the wildflowers collecting their fragrant nectar. Unless he acted soon against the Dark One, the faun feared he would lose himself in the darkness forever. So, one moonless night, Fador gathered some food and a borrowed spear and headed off toward his fate.

It was nearing dawn when he began his descent toward the Valley of Whispers and his beloved meadow. As the light grew in intensity, the full impact of the Troth's destruction could be seen. Piles of uprooted trees lay strewn across the hillside, their gnarled roots broken and limp. He stood before a giant wooden tower surrounded by mounds of reddish-brown earth. Bones, furs, and rotting carcasses from every animal were strewn across the landscape. 

Quickly the faun sought cover behind an overturned tree. Scanning the terrain, Fador saw no movement and heard no sound. So evil was this place, even the crows would not come to gorge themselves on its decaying flesh. 

"Where have they all gone?" whispered Fedor. Sensing no danger, he crept forward toward the tower to gain the advantage of its height. As he came closer, a foul stench wafted up from the mounds of earth. "What have they done to a land that once smelled of clover honey?" Fador asked. He climbed the tower's structure to gain a view of the surrounding meadow. Reaching the top, Fador gazed across the once pristine landscape. A mixture of shock and fury overcame the faun. Everywhere the soil was overturned, and piles of bleached bones lay in testament to the destruction. But worst of all, the stream's crystal blue water ran a reddish-brown. 

"All is lost!" Exhausted and overcome, Fador collapsed in the corner of the tower and fell deep into a fitful sleep. When the faun awoke, the sun dipped below the hills leaving the sky pink with darkening purple streaks. 

"I'll jump. I'll jump and die in the place I love," said Fador. He sat up and prepared to climb over the platform's edge. 

That's when he heard the voices. The Troth's speech is unmistakable. Distant at first but moments later closer, louder, and distinct. "When we are done in two moons, the Dark One will reward us with meat and more killing." said the voice. Fedor carefully peered over the platform's edge and saw a large group of Troths climbing down into the mines shaft. A smaller group took positions around the bucket lines leading to the mine bottom. Fador crept back to the shadows of the corner and remained motionless while below the work of extracting the precious metals began. The dark elves toiled away all night, never stopping. Bucket after bucket of dirt was raised to the surface, sifted, and any gold removed. Toward dawn, the workers climbed out of the hole and headed over the hill for food and rest. 

Fador's body ached. Fearful the Troth might detect his presence, he had not moved an inch the entire night. Slowly he peered over the tower's edge to make sure not a single elf remained. Then the faun descended the ladder and followed the departing Troth. Fador was home. He knew this land better than most and got within arm's reach of the Troth without them knowing. Fador heard them tell of how they would finish here and then move on to the next valley to do the same thing there, leaving a trail of death and destruction unseen since the giant wars of old. He had to stop them! But how? He was only one, and they were many. The faun decided he needed food and fresh water before he could solve the problem. He knew just the place to refresh himself and headed to the valley reservoir. The rest could wait until later.

By midday, Fador sat at the water's edge, munching watercress and cattail root while letting the sun dry his freshly washed fur. With a full stomach, the faun could think about stopping the Troth. Fador absent-mindedly skipped stones across the water toward the stone dam as he sat on the reservoir bank. It soon became a challenge to see how close he could skip the stones without touching the stone barrier of the dam. As the sun slipped lower and lower, Fador could not come up with a plan. Angrily, he threw his last stone and watched it skip over the water. Suddenly, it jumped over the dam's edge, falling to the meadow below. As darkness closed around him, he curled up under a tree knowing the Troth would be busy mining until dawn. 

Fador dreamed of stones and water and keys until he was awoken by the sound of loud splashing. Next to the shore swam a tiny furry head that kept darting back and forth across the water's surface. Fador sat up and stared at the creature. "Good morning, Mr. Faun. Why are you here? Everyone left long ago; you should not stay here." said the otter. Fador walked down to the edge and spoke with the animal. It seemed that the water animals were safe from the dark elves due to their fear of drowning. Fador asked if there were a way to open the damn and flood the valley below. "I can't help you; it was your people who built it. Don't you remember the keystone rhyme?" asked the otter.

Rhyme? Yes! That was in his dream last night. He had forgotten about it until the otter reminded him. Fador bid farewell to the creature and then made his way to the dam's edge, thinking about the keystone rhyme as he walked.

Cautiously the faun crawled down the dam's face noting the different shapes and sizes of the structure's stones. None looked anything like a key. In fact, they all looked like plain ordinary stones. "Slip the key from out of its hole and watch as the waters flow," he said, searching the dam's top. Morning turned to noon, and hunger again called out. Fador returned to the water's edge to eat his fill of watercress. The otter returned and offered him a juicy fish, to which the faun politely declined. Fador asked the otter if he knew which stone was the keystone. "No," said the otter. "What does a keystone do?" The faun explained that a keystone was the one stone that held the rest in place, and if it was removed, the rest would fall. "Beaver will know," said the otter and then disappeared below the water.

After finishing his meal, Fador rested and thought about how his ancestors had come to build this stone dam and why they had not used it to stop the Troth armies. Toward dusk, otter returned with beaver in tow. "I told him what you said, and he is sure he knows what you need to do," said the otter trying to catch his breath. 

"You do know it will destroy our homes if you do this thing otter speaks of?" said the beaver.

"Yes, and I now believe it was why the elders did not use it before. I know the Troth will go from here to another valley which they will destroy as well. We must not let them. It must stop here," said Fador

Beaver explained that the keystone was not just one stone but actually three stones that formed an inverted pyramid located at the dam's base. Once you removed it, the problem was that you would be washed away by a massive wall of water. Fador sat quietly, thinking his choices over. He suddenly said, "It can't be helped!"

The beaver explained where the stones were located and how they should be removed to cause the dam to collapse. Word spread around the reservoir for all the families to head upstream as quickly as possible. They decided to wait for the next new moon, when all would be black so the Troth workers would be unaware of the faun's activities. 

Otter never liked the idea of allowing Fador to die, so he sent word to the weaver birds to come to a secret meeting. It was determined a rope could be tied around Fador's waist and shoulders to provide a possible escape from the bursting dam. The birds set about their task with little time and no guarantee it could be completed by the new moon.

On the night of the new moon, the faun ate a meal of watercress and readied himself for his mission. Reluctant at first, Fador finally agreed to wear the safety rope the weavers had only completed hours before. Beaver suggested it could be used to lower him down from the dam's top, meaning less of a chance of being spotted by a Troth patrol. When all was secure and the Troth miners were busy, the beaver and otter lowered Fador to the dam's base. Once there, the faun intended to cut the rope allowing him greater freedom to work. It turned out that he needed the harness to reach the keystones because of his small stature. With a great yank, the faun removed the topmost keystone and prepared for the coming water. Much to his surprise, nothing happened. Time passed, but still, nothing happened. 

Fador checked and rechecked the wall to ensure no extra pieces were blocking the wall's collapse. "Time," thought Fador. "Time has fused the wall together, and now there was no way to cause it to collapse." With a great cry of anguish, he realized that he could not stop the Troth, and they would, in time, destroy even the Great Forest herself. 

The otter and beaver became alarmed by his cry and rapidly pulled him to the top. The Troth also became aware of his presence and dashed toward the sound. Beaver helped remove the harness while the otter cut the rope allowing it to fall away. The three hurried off the dam's edge and were met by local families who had come to see the dam's destruction.

While the others retreated into the wood, Fador stood at the water's edge listening to the sound of the advancing Troth. He decided not to run. He would fight to his death like so many of his family before him. He would die near his beloved meadow; what more was left? 

Standing near the dam's top, the faun prepared to engage the Troth, who crossed the barrier from the other side. Then, something unexpected happened. As the entire patrol reached the dam's center, there was a loud cracking sound. Before anyone could even turn, the walkway collapsed, opening the way for a massive wall of water to flood the valley below. The screams of the Troth were soon drowned out by the water cascading into the valley below. It had worked! Fador had saved his beloved home!

The following morning, the remaining locals, led by beaver, scouted the water's destructive path. The entire valley was washed clean of the Troth, their encampment, and the damage they had wrought. The great mounds of earth and the mine pit itself were gone. The valley returned to its previous glory in the months that followed as trees, flowers, and grasses covered the land. The water once again flowed crystal blue. Those who had fled the Troth soon returned to rebuild their homes in Talitha.

As for Fador, well, he finally got to lie in his grassy meadow and watch the bees dance across the wildflowers collecting the nectar. You can find him there most days, and if you are patient and bring tea and cakes, he might even tell you this story as it really happened.

Happy Halloween 2021


Happy Halloween

Greeting Kiddies, Count Magyar here with special holiday wishes to all you little tasty treats, please to be stopping by my place for a bite and trick for yous. Here's hoping to see you soon, oh forgetting almost to wishing you Happy Halloween.



auntiemillies@icloud.com © Christopher Johnson 2021