Hello Mistica! One quick update before the plot-related stuff below. We've heard from Zara's family that she is finally home. She still has some recovery to go to overcome the effects of the medical complications and needs a lot of rest to regain her strength. We hope that she will be feeling well enough to join us again in due time.
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The imps gathered at their new hiding place deep within Banshee Swamp, gas bubbles gurgling from the bogs in the distance and the smell of wet moss lingering in the thick air. Two rather rough looking imps with giant grins on their faces stood on a makeshift stage, broken sticks pointing at a large easel with badly drawn schematics of the plans of their newest prank. What they lacked in finesse they easily made up for with charisma, riling up the imps around them and getting them ready for the next fun-filled “attack”.
Their leader wasn’t joining in on the fun, however. Robin was kicked back on a stump several yards away from his kin, feet casually propped up on a particularly large toadstool as he thumbed through the mysterious book he stole. The pages that Aibrean marked so long ago still hadn’t revealed any secrets to him, but through some haphazard wizardry (that often brought ill-effects with it) he’d managed to reveal a few more pages. The magic around it was strong and had an almost familiar edge that he couldn’t quite place…
“There they are!” Screaming quickly followed the accusing yell, the imps leaping back from the shock of the angry mob that they were now faced with. From the shadows of the trees emerged a set of angry and war-clad sprites with several denizens of Mistica hot on their heels. They had a mix of weapons and home-made defenses, everything from elegant swords to pitchforks and pot lids in the crowd. Fear lingered in their eyes and, with the sprites in the lead, it was almost painfully obvious what had happened. The fear the sprites had was easily spread into the community, infecting Misticans far and wide with the idea that the imps were dangerous and had to be dealt with before they unleashed their ”true intentions” behind the pranks.
Robin tossed the book aside and ran up to stand in front of his group, his hands raised up in a sign of peace as he yelled to try to get everyone to quiet down. Both sides were trying to talk at once and it was all getting lost to the wind. “Woah woah, what’s going on here?” he asked, eyes pleading for the crowd to show some reason. A taller-than-average sprite moved forward, his gossamer wings lifting him up so that he hovered at eye-level with Robin. He showed no fear and, if anything, there was a look of self-satisfaction written across his face.
“Oh don’t play dumb now, Robin! We all know that you’re just gearing up to send out your evil minions onto the innocent people of Mistica. You’ve tortured them all with these little pranks as a distraction for the true darkness at the heart of your plan.” The sprite folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head in disappointment. “Such a shame. Here I was thinking that we could actually be peaceful with one another this year…” he waved a hand toward the sprites, the rainbow-clad beings moving forward and pointing their weapons at the imps on command. His voice almost seemed wistful, but the way that he moved a hand to brush his perfectly styled hair out of his face made his supposedly moral high road questionable. The sprite was nothing less than a beautiful person who, unfortunately, knew he was beautiful.
“Asher?” Robin questioned, his ears flicking back in annoyance as he did a quick once-over of the sprite before him. He’d heard legends of the supposed “sprite champion” but had never actually met him. His reputation proceeded him and the name was often mentioned in whispers among the imps, but he couldn’t recall a time where the hero had been needed in the supposed "war" between the two. It was never that serious…it wasn’t that serious now!
The sprite flashed a charming grin and gave a mocking kind of bow toward the imp at his question. “In the flesh. Quite a shock for the likes of you, I’m sure, but I’m afraid that I don’t have time to be giving out autographs today~” he buzzed away then, wings lifting him further into the sky as his demeanor became far more serious. His brows knitted together as he pointed a gloved hand toward the imps, the sprites shifting their weight forward. “Sprites, prepare to attack—“
“Please stand down, dear Asher.” A calm voice cut in, the sprite deflating a little as he was forced to release the rest of his words as empty air. He turned as if to scold the person that interrupted him, looking as if he’d just had his feathers ruffled, before seeing the royal twins enter on the back of their great daydream belragoth. The imp king followed shortly after on a twisted, nightmare version of the same species with a few of his servants jogging up, winded, behind him. Princess Aislin waved a hand to the heroic sprite with a calm smile, the sprite lifting his brows high and waving frantically to the group to stand down. The sprites all hurriedly took a knee, Asher no exception as he did the same thing while hovering in the air.
“Your majesties! I apologize for being so bold, but why are you walking so calmly with the enemy? How could you—“ he paused, lifting his gaze and pursing his lips a little as his eyes fell upon Mephitic. His expression twisted and he actually moved back a little, face looking as if he’d just eaten something bitter. “What in the name of Pandoria are you wearing? It’s hideous.” He asked the imp king, looking all but horrified as he looked over the tacky pineapple shirt the supposed bringer of nightmares had on.
Mephitic growled under his breath and crossed his arms, claws tapping on his arm as he replied with venom in his voice. “In case you haven’t noticed because of all that glitter in your eyes, it’s hot outside. Now get your little rainbow butterflies out of my way while I deal with my son and his pathetic excuse for a war.” Anger dripped from his words, his eyes falling on Robin in disappointment.
To be continued...
