The Trials of Hallac- Part I: The Beasts

Once my breath and control returned,
I stood and surveyed the land to which I had come to inhabit.
Larger than some others, it was
Wide enough for a peasant house
And even bearing stunted plants:
Brushy bushes an a small tree,
Which, to my surprise, bore flowers
Not yet bloomed: pale pink and blue buds.
Desiring nothing more than to sit and let myself heal,
I sat and leaned against the tree,
Ignoring the aches of hunger and thirst that were tugging at me.
Just above my head, where the flowers
Nestled unbloomed, I kept my eyes,
Relishing the colors in a place as dismal as this one was.
Came into the air pleasant scent,
Floral and well enjoyable,
Not unlike a bouquet of blooms
Or the heady smell of gardens.
These buds’ aroma relaxed me
And breathed I in that scented air,
Calming and letting go of cares.
Though there was no wind nor a breeze,
The buds commenced to tremble hard,
Shivering and swaying under no outside force’s influence,
One by one slowly opening before my disbelieving eyes.
Then did I realize that the flowers were not simple tree blossoms,
But formed the wings of small-bodied creatures, not unlike to fairies,
Yet these were not gentle fairies.
Dozens of small blue and pink Harpies were they, clawed and vicious-eyed,
Glaring at me as intruder–
As was their, I must admit.
Scarcely had I time to get up
And make myself ready for the attack I knew was soon coming.
Quick they were, swarming at my face,
Swiping with their claws no larger than the tines of a dining fork,
Though they were sharper than needles.

So small and rapid were the brutes
That using the point of my spear
Was impossible for defense.
Hence I swung the broken shaft hard,
Trying to knock them from the air.
Success did I gain, as their swarm was so thick it was almost hard
Not to hit one or two each swing.
Howled I as claws reached my jawline,
Clutched at my cheeks and barbed my nose.

The florid scent the Harpies gave
Was o’erpowered by scent of blood–
Mine own blood, dripping down my face.
I felt the sticky warmth trickle
Down my neck and onto my back,
But still I swing with all my strength,
Bringing down Harpies in clusters:
Twos and threes, singly and in groups.
They let out cries, shrieks as I hit.
So disoriented were they
When they were struck that none arose;
In turn to each did I then impale their bodies with my spearpoint.
My face was dripping with blood from dozens of tiny, deep claw marks–
You can still see the scars from them,
If you really search, dear Uncle–
Still I was better than they were;
The ground was littered with the corpses of the Harpies, each hand-sized.
My desire to look somewhere else
Made me turn my eyes more upward,
Where the ocean rolled off to the horizon, blue and clear and calm.
Out there on the water, well within eyeshot and hailing distance,
Was a many-oarred sailing ship,
Her oars out and her sails lowered.
The banner she flew I did know,
Black scorpion and blue flower on a shimmering field of gold,
Bordered around in blackest black.
‘Twas a ship of Rinelderal,
Kingdom of His Highness, Banserfe,
A warrior of great reknown,
Whose skill with the halberd is the source of envy for my teachers--
They did try to mimic his form
To teach me to wield like he does.
His kingdom has long been neutral
With Farlein, so I did not fear going aboard one of their ships.
I made my attempts hail them,
Waving my arms and spear and raising my voice to call to them.
Lo, did they hear me! They sent boat,
Smaller craft manned by three strong men,
En route to my little island.
Quickly was I taken to the larger ship and made quite welcome;
Food they did offer me, and drink
‘Til my hunger and thirst were slaked.
Only once I was cared well for did their captain begin to ask:
My name, station, and home, were what?
Eagerly I answered him and his sailors all that they queried,
I made plain I had no secrets,
And in turn begged them to make haste
To the city of their own king,
That I might request of him aid.
‘Alas for our King, noble Banserfe!
At hunting nearly a year ago,
Was he slain by a fearsome black bear.
Only have we of Rinelderal
A queen now, King Banserfe’s gentle wife,
Our Phierine, whose generosity
And kindness are known as her great strength.
Still, take you to the city we will,
That you may petition her instead.’