The Priests Of Addiax.

Chapter One: Into The Angelwood.
The damp, heavy air sent chills down Agatha's spine. It was as if the storm of the night before had some how altered the forest to have a misty, wet evironment. If only she had brought warmer clothes. As she walked through the marshy surface of Angelwood, a sleek, comforting sound rippled through the air. Agatha knew at once who this was. She had waited for this for a very long time. Agatha crept forward, excited but cautious. She knew it could be safe......or it could kill her where she stands. She winced as she stepped into puddle, causing a loud splorch. After waiting a moment, to make sure nobody heard her, she continued, deeper into the forest.

A large, shimmering creature emerged from behind a nearby tree. “You came,” It purred.

Another creature slides from the mist: a dark figure, resembling a buck, but somehow...sleeker. It seems to be made of shadows.

"We have been waiting," it rumbles, raising a foreleg. Where its hoof should be is a sleek taloned foot.

“O-of course! Sorry!” Agatha gasped, she had seen this creature many times before, but it never ceased to amaze her.

A third creature came forth and the other two creatures stepped aside to let it past. Agatha studied the creature in the dim moonlight. It had a fox’s feet and tail but antlers like one of a deer’s. A soft blue glow came from it’s body. It’s eyes, piercing gold, studied her, it’s gaze unreadable. It was even more majestic than the pictures in her mother’s textbook.

The three creatures all spoke to her in unison: "Did you bring us what we wanted?" Agatha nodded, shaking a little in nervousness. She opened her backpack and took out her most prized possession.

In Agatha's hand was a water-smoothed, white riverstone almost luminescent in the light emitting from the creatures. The third, foxlike one tilted its head. "What makes this your most prized posseission?" It asked, the merest hint of danger entering its tone. Clearly it had been expected something of higher value. Agatha's voice shook as she explained.

"This... This was my mothers last gift to me before she passed away." Agatha looked down, the pain still fresh in her heart despite her mother leaving this world behind a year before.

The third creature snatched it up.

"Wonderful," it hissed gleefully. Agatha felt tears threatening to flow, so she bit her tongue. She knew the creatures wouldn't appreciate her tears.

The first creature gave the third a stern look. She was the most caring of the three, and knew how much the stone ment to Agatga. “Be nice, Vermillion. We need this, and the girl has been very kind to give it to us.”

Vermillion scowled, slinking back next to the second shadowy creature. The first creature tried for a reassuring smile at Agatha. “Don’t worry, he’s just desperate for it.”

Agatha gulped. “W-what are you going to do with it?”

A strange sound came from the distance, a mix beetween hissing and screaming. A fourth creature appeared, as if out of nowhere. It looked like a snake, but it had huge golden brown wings like an eagle's, and a beak instead of a snout. "Whhatttt isssss thhisssss?" It said, pushing aside the other creatures to see the stone.

Agatha's heart crept into her throat. That one had never been there before... The air seemed to close like a coffin around her as it's orange eyes focused on her. The third, Vermilion, broke her trance with a hiss.

"You're not supposed to be here, Grim."

"I ccannn beeeeeee wherrreverrrr I wwannnnt, Vverrrmiillionnnnn." Grim snapped. "Thhisss ssssstonnnnnee, isss minnneeee." He spread his large wings and Agatha jumped.

The first stepped forward.

"Begone, Grim." A searing light bled from its mouth, concentrating into a ray of light that hit Grim, and pinned it to the ground, the dark creature wheezing.

The Vermilion attacked grim fast and hard not giving him time to breath. Grim yelped, his back pinned to the ground. He quickly wasted no time in throwing Vermillion off him. Vermillion tumbled through the marshes, but got back onto his feet, growling.

“Guys, enough!” the first creatures roared, her body in a protective stance front of Agatha. “We only came her for one thing, and you two just have to fight for it?”

The dark deer creature steps forward.

His voice is a melodious rumble. "Please calm down," he whispers. "You do not want to anger the Darkheart Guardian."

Agatha shielded her eyes away, Vermillion snarls, but backs off. The Darkheart bows his head to Agatha. She notices that her storybooks didn't catch the scales that make up much of his head and neck instead of fur, didn't catch the way his eyes scintillate from amber to yellow to red, creating a dizzying effect.

He extends a taloned paw, gesturing to the stone. "May I?"

Agatha whimpered. Fear and tears sparkled in her eyes.

"What are you going to do with it?" She questions him, clutching the stone in her hand. Agatha nodded, feeling almost like it wasn't hers anymore.

He reaches to touch it, his taloned hand grasping it. He feels its weight for a second, twisting it back and forth.

He responds at length. "A Waterstone," he whispers. "Capable of purifying water and calming the beasts of the river." His talon tightens around it, his voice dipping low and becoming menacing. "Pray tell, where did your mother find this?"

The cock of his head, the shine in his eye, the tone in his voice. All Agatha can think of is how the legends about this creature being able to terrify the largest storm giant were true.

She shakes slightly. "N-no clue...sir?" She adds on awkwardly, wondering if it's right to call this beast 'sir'.

"Thhhhaatttt ssstoneee issss ''mmminnnee." ''Grim hissed. He slithered between the Darkheart and Agatha. "I have been searching for it for millenia. Give it to me!"

"Millenia?" Vermillion scoffed, leaned towards Grim. "Why, i knew you since you were a mere worm."

"SILENCE WITH YOU!" Grim shouted.

"Stop fighting!" the first creature shouted.

"I have reason to fight him, Ara," Vermilion snapped. "Grim's caused us nothing but trouble the entire time we've known him.

The second one spoke up.

"True. He just complains."

Agatha wondered if she should slip away silently while the dark beasts were bickering. But the Waterstone...it was all she had left ever since she was forced to leave her home. She didn't understand why they wanted it so badly, there was a saying in Ferivell, 'Creatures that live in the dark like Evil don't need fresh feed.' Slowly, Agatha took a few steps back from the quarreling beasts.

Once she was sure the beasts weren’t paying attention to her anymore, Agatha sprinted as fast as she can away from them, clutching the Waterstone tightly.

It almost felt as though she were being followed. The quiet breezes that sometimes brushed past the people of her town after horrible storms now seemed to howl like shrieking, angered monsters that wanted to drag her back to where she once stood. Narrowed, glowing, slit-pupiled eyes seemed to peer from ever corner and nook and cranny, but of course, those were probably just her imagination. Or fireflies.

Vermillion's head snapped up. "She's running! AND SHE HAS THE STONE."

"That coward," Grim growled. "It was unfair for us to argue like children in front of her." Ara protested. "The poor thing just got scared."

Agatha feels a taloned paw clench her shoulder, whipping her back through the air. She lands on a black surface, furred and sleek, every muscle pounding. It streaks away, running toward the nearby Koroto River.

The Darkheart runs with her.

"The stone will save us now," she hears the melodious rumbling voice whisper. "Hold my horns if you begin to fall. I have no interest in stealing your heirloom, and I don't see what they find so captivating about gathering the Ten."

She gripped his antlers tightly. “The Ten? Ten of what? Why do they want my—uh, my mother’s—stone?”

“The Ten is a group of magic stones scattered across all over Gildaheim. Each stone belongs to one member of the Eternal Warriors. No more questions child, now we must run. Hold on.”

He looked around and bounded through the forest. Agatha had never travelled so fast. Wind whipped her hair and her cloak now soared behind her. The Waterstone in hand, Agathta fled with Darkheart. What if he kills me? The horrible thought flashed through her mind with pictures of her bleeding out by the riverbank, and him looming over her, a crazed look in his eyes and her precious Waterstone clenched in his talon. She shoved it away. ''That won't happen. That won't happen. That. Won't. Happen. ''Her heart contimued to pound as they kept going and could still here grim in the distance way behind them. Grim shot after Agatha. He was determined to get that stone, no matter what it took. Agatha looked back, terrified, and saw which much more horror that Grim was after them, slithering at a speed that to her seemed much faster than Darkheart. She whispered into his fur, “Grim’s following us. What do we do now?”

Darkheart’s expression was calm and determined. “We go faster.” Bowing his head, he continued slamming the ground with his talons, a bright blue aura surrounding him.

Soon enough, Agatha found herself and Darkheart zipping past ten trees in one second. She craned her neck and looked behind her, ignoring her billowing cloak. Agatha was happy to see that Grim was now just a furious grey blur.

But Grim wouldn't give up easily. He pushed himself to his limits, leaping intot he trees and disapearing from sight.

''Has he gone? ''Agatha wondered, leaning back to see better.

Grim burst out of the sky right behind her, claws shearing off the edge of her cloak.

"AHHHH!" Agatha screamed.

Darkheart put on a burst of speed, and veered away from Grim. Agatha was screaming quite loudly, causing birds to soar away from the blur of black, talons and warm flesh. Darkheart slowed down slightly, gliding against the wind to soften the blow on Agatha. "There," he said softly. Agatha wasn't going to get hurt by him...even if they had to go a little slower, even if it meant Grim catching them.

Grim quietly slithered under the two of them, suddenly leaping out of the trees, beak open, ready to bite Darkheart.

Agatha, out of sheer terror, did any normal thing a horrified human would do. She kicked Grim in the beak, sending him tumbling back into the trees again. Grim shot backwards, rolling beak over claws.He growled, but his right front leg was hurt.

"I'll find you and I'll get you for that," he grumbled under his breath, lying on the ground and breathing heavily. "You won't get away that easily next time."

Grim slithered after Agatha, trying to find her. "Whherrreee arree, yyouu?" He said to himself, frustrated. Agatha, for her part, was still terrified, but mostly safe now. Agatha closed her eyes as her heart beat wildly around in her chest. It was life or death. Darkheart stopped completely, on the serene shores of a river. Agatha slid off his back, tears pouring down her face. Darkheart purred, and soothed the girl with fresh water from the river. Grim picked up Agatha's scent, and went towards it.

Agatha took a deep breath, unsure whether the water on her face was river water or tears.

The Darkheart stares toward where Grim is standing.

"I can smell you." His voice is quiet and dangerous. "You cannot hide from the Darkheart Guardian."

He takes a step forward, his eyes gleaming red. Grim feels...scared?

Agatha is caught in the Darkheart's gaze as well. She remembers the legend:

The horned king with fur of dark

His gaze strikes fear; it leaves his mark.

Look in his eyes and ever lose your grin.

A great enemy, the Darkheart Guardian.

A great gold and silver bird swooped suddenly out of the sky, landing gently on the Guardian's back. “Hi, Darky!” She squawked. Her eyes found the stone clenched in his talon-paw. She gasped. “The Waterstone?” She asked incredulously.

The Darkheart sighs. "For the last time, Zandera, do not call me Darky. It's not only annoying, but it makes me appear weak."

He turns to Grim. "Ignore this creature while I smash you into sand."

Zandera growled indignantly but took off quietly, hovering right above Darkheart's head.

"Zandera...." Darkheart growled, annoyed she didn't fly off.

"Darkheart," Zandera growled.

Something rustled in the shadows. Suddenly, she stepped out of the darkness. She looked like a cross between a cat, a butterfly, and a dragon that had gone horribly wrong. Despite her terrifying appearance, she had an almost kind look. She seemed to be staring at the Waterstone, but noticed Agatha trembling and looked at her instead. “How do you do?” she asked, extending a kindly paw to Agatha.

Agatha trembled. "U-uhh - g-good, I suppose." She carefully took the paw. It was warm and soft, and not the least bit threatning like the rest of the creature. "Who are you?"

"I?" The creature said, a almost purr-like sound rumbling through it's body, making it's butterfly wings flutter. "I am Veeta, more commonly known as the Whersood Ghost." Her dragon-like body, was thin, and lithe, with cat-like paws and fur in the place on a dragon's ridge.

"Um... Are you here for the Waterstone too?" Agatha asked nervously.

"Me? Of course not!" Veeta smiled.

"Wait . . . oh, I remember you! My mother used to tell me stories!" Agatha said, smiling.

"Lovely," Veeta said, voice smooth and silky, instantly calming. "Which ones?"

"Umm . . . the ones where you were nice and didn't try to kill people. Mother never told me those. . . . I read them anyway," Agatha finished.

Veeta raised an eyebrow, “Which one did she tell you?”

Agatha racked her brain for anything. Anything to get out of this awkward situation. “Oh! You saved the Elder Eternal during the fire at the capital!”

Veeta laughed. “Oh really? That was—

Darkheart interrupted her, “We really need to get going. I’m not sure if Grim is still following, but we shouldn’t stay here in the open. Too vulnerable for the Stone and for Agatha.”

Veeta smiled.

"I remember that. What is your name, oh," she paused to look Agatha up and down, "scraggly pinkish thing?"

Agatha snickered, oblivious to the glare-off between Grim and Darkheart.

"It's Agatha."

"Ah," Veeta said,nodding. "Wonderful name.Did you know it means 'good'? It seems your parents named you well."

Agatha wished that she never came to this wretched place. As least she met Veeta though, the one from the stories. The good ones, not the bad ones. "Is there a way out?" She asked. Agatha hated the idea of getting lost along with the Waterstone.

Zandera butted in, jealously glaring at Veeta. “I don’t know, but I can scout from the air?”

Veeta looks at her, trying to be reasurring. "I am simply here to offer help, Zandera," she says. "Not to cause any harm nor trouble."

“Nor I,” With that Zandera took off, spreading her majestic wings and launching into the air. The gold and silver glinted in the sun. She caught herself in a current and shot forward with amazing speed.

Beside her, Agatha heard Veeta scoff, “Showoff.”

''Was this the Great Veeta? Fighting with others was not how she imagined the savior of the Elder.''

The Darkheart begins galloping away from Grim and Veeta, leaping over the river from rock to rock, his stride too large for a normal deer.

"Hold out the stone," he whispers. "The Water Guards will be here."

Sure enough, Agatha can see strange octopus-like creatures floating in the water. The second they see Agatha and the Darkheart, they seem to swell, inhaling. A jet of ink shoots out of one's mouth, missing the Darkheart by an inch. It hits the rock wall behind and melts a hole in it.

After a few more seconds, the Water Guards seemed to realize that Agatha had the Waterstone, as they stopped shooting ink at them. "Good job," The Darkheart told Agatha, continuing to leap from rock to rock.

Agatha stayed still on the large rock she was standing on, confused. “Good job—wait, what did I do?”

"Show them the stone, which was your job," the Darkheart said, annoyance trickling into his tone.

Agatha smiled weakly.

"Thank you, Darkheart. And if you don't mind me asking, why is your name Darkheart? You seem quite pure to me."

"Our names that we recive at birth does not define who we are. Agatha used to mean 'coward demon' and you are nothing like one."

Agatha nodded. Than stepped towards the Waterguards. If anyone was to keep her Mother's jewel, it should be them. They looked a little less evil than Grim and the others. One of the Waterguards stepped forward and took the stone from her palm, then it disapeared into the darkness, along witht the other Waterguards.

Agatha turned to Darkheart, Veeta and Zandera. "What was that all about?" She paused for a moment, "C-can we get out of here? I think the exit of the forest is over there." Said Agatha, pointing to eastwards. The trees seemed to stop after a while, as if the edge of the world was just over there. "I think the Ferivell plains are over there."

"Over there?" Darheart's tone was sharp with surprise. "Do tell me you're joking."

"That's directly through Mortrest," the Darkheart snarls. "If we go through there, our options are solve the maze or die."

“I’ve been through the maze,” Zandera offered helpfully.

Darkheart snorted. "Who would trust your patchy memory, Zandera? Someone give me a better solution."

"Perhaps I could be of assistance?" came a smooth voice. A male faerie flies down out of a tree. "I am Prince Teroe of the Fey Nobility, and I'll be happy to help."

He has golden-brown hair and blue eyes that glitter like he just told a joke. His clothes are made out of leaves, dyed many different colors. Two golden shimmering wings flutter on his back. A small flower is pinned through his shirt. The smell of some kind of strange herb comes with him.

"Shut your pixie-dusty glittery trap," the Darkheart mutters, both nostrils flared closed. These two obviously have a history.

Wow, Agatha thinks. ''A faerie prince. And he's almost...cute?'' The odd herbal smell in the air makes her feel woozy.

“Teroe.” Veeta said reproachfully. “Turn your sleeping scent off.”

He smirks, but it dissipates within the next few seconds. "I apologize, my small ghostly friend." He alights on the ground next to the Darkheart, stepping forward to get a good look at Agatha.

Her heart skips a beat. ''He's oddly...striking. He seems more powerful than he's letting on.'' Her eyes become calculating, trying to sum up what the faerie prince is thinking.

"What have you been through...?" he wonders aloud. Agatha feels like he's plumbing the depths of her soul.

''What have I been through? What does he mean? ''She felt his gaze and his mind inside of her, searching for whatever the answer Teroe desired. And then suddenly, as if he had ripped Agatha's memories from her body, she remembered.

''Her Mother had just died. One of the great priests had told her that she could find her spirit in The Forest Of Desolation. Eager to talk to her Mother once more, Agatha made her journey there. But that priest must have been a liar, because just when she thouht she had found her Mother, she found Grim and the other hideous monsters that dwelled there.''

All these new people and strange creatures, it made Agatha feel something twist in her stomach. But it also awakened something she had never felt before. The urge to stay with them, despite looking like beasts out of a children's book, seemed grow more and more. The Faerie especially, seemed to make her feel most alive. But she still had one more question....

"Why did those beasts want the Waterstone, Darkheart. And why did I have to give it to the Waterguards. Did they know about my Mother's history? Is that why they wanted it? What will they make use for it now? Can we go out of this forest the way I came in, or is the exit sealed forever?"

Ok, multiple questions.

Darkheart chuckled. "Go easy. They want the Waterstone because it can give them immense power. My former comrades wish to take over our realm and exploit it for it's resources."

"They survive on pure water don't they?"

"Yes, as do I. But the Waterguards need it more."

"Isn't there enough water here in Angelwood?" Said Agatha, gesturing to the marshy surface, "And all over the world? I was told by the priests that everyone is safe here as long as we all worshop Addaxia."

"Agatha, you don't understand. There are to many of my species. There isn't enough water to go around..."

"Yeah but...Addaxia can provide us with water." Said Agatha, but as these words slipped from her mouth, she knew that there was something terribly wrong.

"ADDAXIA IS A LIE!" Darkheart took a couple of deep breaths. "The humans simply fed their power with lies, tried to corrupt the minds of special children like you. Addaxia is fake. It is a spin off of my species' creator, the one who gave us life. Addaxia is merely a human concept that leeches all the independence from humankind's weak minds and replaces it with submission."

"But..but...the priests..." But then Agatha remembered how she got here, how a priest lied and told her that her Mother's spirit was here. How she was tricked, and nearly killed.

"The priests target special children like you. They wish to exploit your power and turn you into their puppet!"

Agatha tilted her head, "But I'm not special..."

“Being special isn’t determined of the things you might do, it’s what you decide to do now,” Veeta said gently.

Darkheart rolled his eyes. "You also have supernatural abilities."

"Supernatural? But I have no power. I have no power of knowledge, I never had a good education. I have no physcial power, for no one has trained me. And I lack the power of magic, unlike most girls who are born in my year." Said Agatha. "So why would the priests want to use me?"

"Yes. Nothing big, though. Maybe controlling certain emotions, changing your molecular density... nothing wild and amazingly powerful."