The Wind in the Trees

[bumper15]

This is my first attempt at soloing a fan fic. I hope you all enjoy it. Tell me what you think, and please criticize. For those that have read and/or participated in Prison Faction over the summer, this is a story of my character before his arrest.

P.S. Oh and Elven Lord I sort of borrowed your character for the first few chapters, he just made a perfect spot for the beginning. If you ever have a problem with the way I make him out, please feel free to PM me.

And now with out further ado............I bring you.................

The Wind in the Trees


Prologue Pt. I

The breeze finally drifted through the command tent, but instead of cooling them down, it only teasingly reminded them how stifling it was in there. The other one was late, though to the ones in the tent, that was no surprise. The enemy was a cold-blooded killer of their kind, and no one had expected him to show up anyway. The leader laughed to himself at the thought, because in fact, they themselves were the cold-blooded ones. The Naga only wanted peace, but the enemy was relentless.
Naga were reptilian-like beings that could transform into different kinds of snakes. They were split up into several different tribes across the lands, but this tribe was the biggest and the best. However, they were also the closest tribe to the Woods of Balon, the only thing that had kept the enemy away was the fact that their eyes were set on the south. The tribes were not tightly woven, honestly, they each had complete apathy for the others. While they didn’t war amongst themselves, they did not live in complete harmony.
To prevent the bloodshed from spreading to his people, Slink had proposed a peace treaty be written between his tribe and the forest dwellers. Slink had bigger problems to worry about, the Necromancer had once again risen to power. Stories had been passed down through his tribes history of the last time he brought his legions of undead among the living. It had almost ended the world, and word said that this time the Necromancer was much stronger. Slink needed to prepare.
“Where issss that wretched Sssprite?” Slink hissed angrily to himself. Truth be told, in a thousand years, no one living had ever seen a Wood Sprite, including the Naga. Those who did never lived long enough to tell the tale. Slink was determined to survive, he had a tribe to rule. “If that thing wantsss to try ssssomething, he’sss in for a sssurprisse,” he smiled to himself and prepared himself for a long wait.


Up above the tent, nestled on a tree limb, rested a fifteen-year-old boy. At least he looked fifteen, Wood Sprites never aged past the year they sprouted. He was in fact close to one hundred years, but who was counting. He knew that they were expecting him in the tent, but he thought he would wait a bit. He enjoyed being able to get inside everyone’s head and use their emotions to his advantage, the more annoyed the Snake became, the more mistakes he would make. He closed his eyes as if in a dream, and went back to how it all started.
Two young Snakes, a mocking term that the Wood Sprites used in regards to the Naga, wandered into their woods, and despite all attempts to scare them off, they found their way to Mother Tree. Mother Tree was what kept all the Wood Sprites alive, she nourished all of them through her roots. They were very protective of her, the only time they killed was if someone was damaging them, their forest, or Mother Tree.
After the two were killed the Wood Sprites sent their heads back to the tribe to dissuade them from entering the Woods of Balon. That was never part of the plan, they were supposed to drop them off closer to the edge, but still deep in the forest. They were supposed to make it look like an accident, there were plenty of pitfalls in the woods. The Snakes had responded as expected by burning parts of the forest. The boy, Orin, grimaced to himself, that was not his intention, he hadn't even been there to make the decision, he had been off hunting with his partner Streak at the time. His captain had been in charge. Lindon, a strong-headed boy who never thought things completely through, was immediately stripped of his rank and had been severely punished for the atrocity. To make matters worse, Orin had arrived back from his hunt with a war on his hands. Orin hated war, but the Wood Sprites were the best fighters in the region. They were the wind in the trees, as many stories said. They could slip, through their forest with ease and quiet, only being seen or heard when they wanted to be. The trick came in handy for fighting a war in and around their forest. In the months following the incident, only one of the two hundred sprites had been killed, and that had been the cause of it all.
He sighed to himself, thinking about the boy, and sat up, his brown, wavy hair shifting with the movement. Orin never liked war, but on the other hand, he was trying to prepare for a bigger war. His patrols in the northern part of the forest had reported signs of the forward troops of the Necromancer’s army coming through from the Wastelands, that had been a week ago.
Orin looked down to see Streak staring up at him, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. Streak was Orin’s closest comrade. Each Sprite had an animal comrade. There was a connection between them, and while Orin couldn’t talk to Streak, they understood each other. Orin figured he had kept the Snakes waiting long enough. He leapt off the branch, sticking the landing. He stretched his sore muscles, he had been up there for two hours listening, waiting for the tension to build up in the tent before he arrived. He took a breath to calm himself. He didn’t enjoy bloodshed, but he was prepared for the worst.