The White Druids

The Beginning and Workings of a Fantasy. Feel free to critique.

     When the soft breeze tickled his ear with the faint tinkling sounds of her magical voice, Mithial Ringtail smiled softly to himself. His mate never wasted time. He glanced to follow the breeze with his eyes, watching as it found it's way through the battle encampment below them. The hundred thousand or more soldiers that sat or worked around campfires in the Great Meadow wouldn't hear the beautiful muscial notes that gave direction to the playful breeze, nor would they realize it could become deadly in a moments breath.

     Mithial turned back to look several trees behind him. Even with his gifted sight, he could barely make out the shadowy features of his mate, Corleen Silentwing, as she stood on a branch, fifty feet from the ground. Her eyes were fixed on the encampment, her lips moving, giving soft, magical orders to the breeze that wound it's way through the soldiers.

     "What do you see, my love?" he queried, pushing the thought from his mind, following the link that forever connected their minds, until he saw her eyes turn to his.

     The pictures of various soldiers talking, eating, or playing games came into his mind. Some cleaned their weapons, or cooked food over the many open fires. It was clear that the breeze had not yet reached the center of camp, which was clearly the location of the General's tent.

     Corleen continued to project the pictures as they came to her. Mithial didn't hear any words, as of yet, but he continued to view the pictures. Nothing of any concern came across to him, which made him wonder all the more.

     The army had been encamped in the Great Meadow for three weeks. They did not disturb the woods around them other than to search for firewood, nor did they hunt. Seeming to have all the food and supplies they could need, they sat, slept, ate and talked, for three weeks.  Mithial wasn't even able to see how they had come to the Great Meadow, other than the faint trace of magic in the air, and none of the creatures of the surrounding Dark Wood had reported a marching army passing through.

     A soft bell sounded in his head and sound began to drift in with the pictures.

     'Good', thought Mithial to himself, 'We've reached them at last.'

     The breeze, winding through the tents, began to find the officers. First, they were the lower branches, their conversations crude and uneducating, but slowly, the breeze discovered the higher ranks, and the conversations became more informing.

     Mithial and Corleen, both watching and listening intently to catch anything of importance, suddenly noticed a shift in the breeze. It wound it's way into a small, but lavish tent that was set, not in the center, but off to the side of a grander dwelling.

     Seated on a stone in the center of the tent, there was a small, wizened old man wearing a simple brown robe and hood. In his lap, he clutched a wooden staff that had a small green gemstone mounted at the top. Two soldiers standing by the entrance were the only other occupants with the exception of a very large, heavily armored man. He stood directly behind the old man and wore a grisly smile on his unattractive features.

     Mithial quickly noted the brand on the side of the man's neck which labeled him as a general and also the large greatsword by his side. This was not a man to fool with.

     As the breeze settled in the upper portion of the tent, the voice of the general became clear.

     "If we are to defeat the Inner Realm, we must first destroy the Realm above it. You know this, old man, and yet, you continue to deter my wishes."

     The old man's eyes were hidden beneath his hood, but the contempt in his voice was very evident.

     "The Emperor only bade me to help you conquer the Inner Realm. He mentioned nothing of destroying the lands above it. I can only do as I am bade by the Emperor."

     "When the courier brings the missive from the Emperor, we will have his permission and his command for you, why do you not understand this! You can save us valuable time by simply following orders!" the general bellowed, raising a hand as if to strike the old man.

     With a slight turn of his head, the green gemstone in the wooden staff began to glow with an ominous hum. The general quickly lowered his hand and took a quick step backward.

     "Fine!" he said quickly, "We'll wait." And he quickly exited the tent, leaving the soldiers at the doorway.

     Mithial blinked, suddenly, as the pictures and sounds from Corleen's mind link disappeared, to be replaced by a picture of their small home, hidden deep within the treetops of the Dark Wood. He turned to find her, but saw only the tail of her shifted form sailing off into the wind. Chuckling softly to himself, he shifted quickly and scampered swiftly through the branches.

This is a beginning, if you have any suggestions or comments, please feel free to leave them.