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Deep in the forests of Mistfall, a faerie was ailing. She lay in a bed of leaves that were already beginning to brown, her green skin already sickly pale and her leafy wings limp. The forest creatures, the squirrels and chipmunks, darted to and fro, bringing her leaves filled with the purest rain water. The lake water was not safe. Not anymore. They’d stopped bringing her lake water when it had been discovered that drinking it only worsened her condition.
But none in the forest worried as much as the young woman who dribbled water from a wet bundle of moss onto the faerie’s lips. She’d stopped taking water earlier in the day, her breathing grown shallow even as she slipped in and out of consciousness. The red hair of the young woman, and the blue hoodie that had been wrapped around the faerie’s torso, were the only spots of colour in the otherwise dull tree home. Every flower, every berry, even every brightly-coloured bird had either dropped dead or left the tree. The faerie was absorbing their life force, though it greatly saddened her to do so. Already, the squirrels and chipmunks left carrying their deceased brethren, off to bury them and hoping that their sacrifice had not been in vain.
“Don’t you die on me,” the young woman whispered, wiping the moss over the faerie’s face. Tears ran down the human’s cheeks, but she didn’t let them fall on the faerie. Surely, the salt would only sicken her. But, in the process of wiping a tear away, a droplet splashed on the faerie’s nose, and she opened her eyes.
“Get the other guardians,” the faerie whispered, clutching the young woman’s striped shirt with all the strength she had, which wasn’t much. “Zelda and Eden and… and Iz…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes closed, and her head fell back against her mossy pillows.
“Okay, but don’t die while I’m gone,” said the young woman, pressing her lips to the dry skin of the faerie’s forehead. “I need you. Jorvik needs you.”
On the back of a blue and white steed, one with unicorn blood in his veins, the Soul Rider of the Stars galloped out of Mistfall and past the quarantine guards, who cried out at her passing and tried to stop her. But they failed, just as they had when they’d tried to stop her on her way in.
The friends that gathered around the faerie’s bed when the Soul Rider had returned were a strange bunch, to be sure. Usually, creatures of fire were not permitted in the forest. A single spark could burn it to the ground, especially with how dead and dry everything was right now. But the phoenix and the kitsune meant the forest no harm. The werewolf, too, was a welcome guest.
The kitsune’s body pressed up against the faerie woke her again after some time, as the magic of the fox spirit revitalised her. The phoenix was there just in case the worst should happen, but it looked like she wouldn’t be needed. Not just yet, anyway. The former unicorn felt out of place, but she could still feel the magic in the room. And she worried about the faerie who was obviously dying.
The faerie’s fingers stroked through the kitsune’s warm, white fur as she told her friends what ill fate had befallen Mistfall.
“That company, they… they came here,” the faerie whispered, her voice lacking in strength and barely audible to even the werewolf’s keen hearing. But the faerie did not mind being crowded. Not now, when her words were so important. “They poisoned the lake, they… they poisoned the forest. You need to stop them.” She licked her dry lips, and the Soul Rider leaned over and dribbled more mossy rain water into her mouth.
The Soul Rider looked at the friends, who shared her grim look.
“She’s been like this for weeks,” said the Soul Rider. “I thought she was going to get better, but…”
“Her life force is fading,” said the phoenix. “We must act now, before it is too late.”
“Do you know where they’re working?” asked the unicorn, her sweet voice doing nothing to mask the anger.
“Up there, beyond the lakes,” said the Soul Rider, pointing in that direction. “If you pass the lakes, you will find their vile factory. But be careful. The only time she tried to go there, she fainted and didn’t wake up for days.” Seeing the hurt in her eyes, the kitsune stood and nuzzled the Soul Rider, providing her body for warmth and comfort.
“We’ll burn it to the ground,” the unicorn promised.
It was a motley crew that traveled the path through the forest and between the lakes by moonlight. Even out of the forest, the light was dim, hidden behind thick clouds of smog. It was hard for the taller members of the group to breathe in it. The kitsune kept her nose to the ground, hoping that the air would be clearer here, but even it was still difficult to breathe. They had tried running, but the thick smog had choked the breath from their lungs.
The unicorn led the way, of course, fire in her eyes just as it was in the veins of the kitsune and phoenix behind her. She may have lost her unicorn form, but she had not lost her spirit. Nor had she lost her rage, the rage that had been building since this vile company had first set foot on Jorvik. She’d never expected to be able to punch a member in the face, though.
The front gates, tall and spiked with barbed wire on the top, were no match for the cleansing flames of the kitsune and phoenix. The guards fell beneath the ferocity of the werewolf and unicorn, and the fire of the Soul Rider.
When the boss appeared, a broad-shouldered man with grey hair, the unicorn stepped in front of him. She was shorter than him, but no less vicious.
“You have destroyed this island for too long,” said the unicorn. Had she her horn, she would have gored him, or perhaps set him on fire from the inside. But she had to make do with her two fists and her barbed tongue.
“Oh, and what are you going to do about it, little girl?” the man sneered. He stank like the factory that stood behind him, pumping out polluted water in plastic bottles. Just as she’d expected, the unicorn’s strong right hook wiped the smarmy grin off the man’s face. He squawked, his hands covering his nose, but the unicorn was already swinging again, aiming for his gut this time.
While the unicorn beat the living tar out of the boss, the creatures of fire descended on the factory. There was so much smog and gas that it was only too easy for a spark to take hold. The employees fled, screaming, but the werewolf was at the door, ready to tear limb from limb. This was precisely why the group had waited until moonrise to attack, so that the wolf would be at his full strength.
As those who were most innocent fled into the wilderness, the kitsune stepped back outside, her paws crunching on the broken glass yet not suffering from the shards. Similarly, the soot from the fire did not blacken her fur, which still gleamed white in the moonlight.
With justice dealt, the kitsune led the way back to the faerie’s home, the phoenix flying above her while the rest trailed behind her. And yet, she did not protest when the Soul Rider passed her on her swift horse, knowing how important it was for the Soul Rider to see her faerie and deliver the good news.
The faerie was still sick when the group arrived, but she opened her eyes when her girlfriend embraced her.
“It is done,” said the Soul Rider. “The factory is in flames and the boss has been dealt the harshest of punishments.”
“He will be dealt the punishment he truly deserves when I regain my true form,” the unicorn corrected. “But it is enough for now.”
“The lakes,” the faerie murmured, her eyes falling closed again as she sagged in the Soul Rider’s embrace. “They are still polluted.”
“I will deal with that,” said the phoenix, and left the tree home on burning wings. A few sparks landed on the faerie, bringing warmth and colour back into her cheeks.
The kitsune followed the phoenix, to witness the rejuvenation of the lakes. She stood in the middle of the lakes, her tails waving, while the phoenix spread her wings and showered flame down onto the lakes. Flames erupted on top of the water, but they were healing flames. Cleansing flames. The kitsune did not have the connection to the land that the faerie did, but she could still feel the sickness bleeding away.
It was not enough to heal the lakes. The phoenix flew over the forest next, and the flames that she showered down set the forest to flame. But, rather than destroying the forest, the flames revitalised it. Dead things were consumed by the flames, and sickly things suddenly found themselves healing. A rabbit that had been on the brink of death suddenly rose to its paws and cleaned its face. A baby bird fluttered its wings and let loose a cry of joy.
And in her tree home, the faerie took a deep breath and sat up for the first time in weeks. Colour had returned to her cheeks, even her wings were healthy once more, no longer drooping. There was a light in her eyes that had been missing for so long. But the phoenix was still busy, so the faerie embraced her girlfriend instead, giving her the kisses that she’d missed for so long.
At last, the phoenix returned, though the entire valley was alight with flames. Surely, the fire department of Jorvik would be alerted to the fire burning even along the coastline. But if they were, the faerie did not know about it. She stood from her bed and wrapped her arms around the phoenix.
“Thank you,” the faerie whispered. “You have saved the forest.” She looked around at her friends. “All of you have.”
“We have saved Jorvik,” said the unicorn.
“And saved you,” the Soul Rider added. The faerie smiled. Already, she could feel life returning to the forest. The sickness that had plagued her for weeks was gone, existing only as a dark smog up the far end of the valley where a true fire consumed the vile factory that had been destroying the land for far too long.
Jorvik was safe, for the next few months at least. And, should anything else befall the land, it had the Soul Riders to protect it from the forces of Garnok, and the four Guardians to protect it from any ill that was not Garnok.