The members of the guild took the news in silence. That was not to say they were happy -- just not surprised. The Guild of the Solstice Queen had survived when all the other guilds of even middling power had been disbanded over the last four years. The GSQ, one hundred strong, had remained quiet within their temple. Their magic was powerful but rarely used. The Dark King had no reason to move against them except that he craved power and mistrusted anyone with gifts he could not take for himself.
Priestess Trena looked over the room, filled with followers, true believers, and acolytes.
"The Dark King commands that we lay down our powers and surrender to the forces waiting at the mountain's base."
Again no surprise, but hooded heads turned toward the uneasy messenger and his two guards. What the guards thought didn't matter -- they wore weapons into the sanctuary despite warnings from Priestess Trena. Their lives were now in the hands of the goddess.
The messenger, though, had set aside his single long-bladed knife and told her the word of his master with no show of malice. He did show both humility and worry, as well. So much so that he drew the sneers of his companions.
Trena marked the boy -- he couldn't be more than twenty -- not as a believer, but as one of those few people who had no trouble accepting matters outside his realm of understanding. Such people with open minds were growing rare, as seen in this latest madness.
The Dark King should have known better.
"We will not, of course, surrender. You two," she indicated the guards, "may go tell your commander what I have said. Messenger, I wish for you to stay a while longer so that I may make a proper reply to him."
The guards didn't even protest losing their charge and walked away with disdain as one of the others led them out of the temple and back into the meadow beyond. By then, Trena and the messenger had traversed the temple and started up the wide stairs to the sanctuary. The boy gave a nervous glance up at it.
"We do not sacrifice anything but leaves and roots to help renew the land," Trena told him at the third glance. "Do you believe me?"
"Yes."
"What is your name?"
"Borian," he replied with a bow.
"I think a 'prince' should be attached to that name."
"My father ruled a minor kingdom, lost to the Dark King the year I was born. 'Prince' means nothing in such a case. They have orders to attack, Priestess. If there are preparations to make --"
"Already done. We prepared the moment your companions set foot on the sacred mountain. They are fools, you know."
"Fools for many reasons," he muttered but then seemed to remember himself and stood straighter. "If you have a message --"
"You will have it soon enough," Trena replied. "Look there. The soldiers were already at the edge of the forest. It didn't matter what answer I gave. He only sent you and the guards because he wanted to know what you saw inside the temple. We are legends, you know."
"Legend and myth," he agreed. He didn't seem to be in a hurry. The others were no doubt bores. "That is General Mupril and his private guards. He's only that brave if there isn't another force -- what is happening?"
He sounded worried for the first time and with cause. The general and his hundred men had gotten a third of the way through the meadow -- and then stopped with cries of surprise. None of them could move, nor could the soldiers follow after them. Their bodies twisted, grew, and their screams of terror changed to the sound of branches shifting in the wind.
Where the army had been moving, an array of trees now stood, their branches moving frantically for another moment, and then even that sound fell to silence. Birds had taken to the air from other trees but settled now even among the new growth.
The boy swayed and shivered when she took hold of his arm, but he didn't try to pull away. He looked at her and then back to the trees.
"A dozen or so of the soldiers have escaped the spell. They are already running for the capital and will arrive days ahead of you so that the Dark King will have enough time to consider the situation. This --" she pulled a sealed message from her robe and put it into his shaking hands -- "is an explanation of what happened and why he does not wish to continue the path he has taken. This --" she pulled out a chain and amulet "-- is protection for you. Having survived this confrontation will not bring you any friends."
He still looked pale but gave a nod of agreement. Not much later, she watched him walk out past the trees, unsteady still but unafraid.
Over the next decade, the forest became a place of quiet refuge for humans and the animals that had come to take their positions here. The spirits trapped in the trees had learned the peace of acceptance in a world where they could make no difference. When the time came, only five chose to go back among the humans, living as mystics and traveling far. None of them picked up weapons again.
The Dark King did not do so well. He turned his aggression to other lands, but none of the wars went well for him. Even before he died, his empire had started to crumble. However, his successor -- who won the throne by proclamation of the people, not by war -- was far better at making alliances and choosing good ministers to help with the work. He had even chosen two of her forest mystics to help him.
King Borian would reign long and well.
And he still had her protection.
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