"Axe in the Stone" by Lisa Anne Prior

Axe in the Stone

by Lisa Prior

"Where did this come from?"

Sitting, buried in one of the stones of the forest clearing was a large war axe. The blade was embedded in the stone that Juliana usually used to sit and ponder her day. She flitted about the weapon with a concerned look on her face. It wasn't the fact that there was a large piece of man forged steel sitting in the middle of her glade that bothered her. It was the blood that welled up from around the blade.

At first she had thought it was just left over blood on the blade but as she watched another bead welled up around it from the stone. She hissed as yet another bead came up.

"Man came into the clearing and left that thing."

Juliana spun about and then smiled. "Hello, Oak. You saw who did this?"

The oak behind the woodland sprite nodded. "Yes. Man came in carrying that and looked about. Man then pulled back like he was going to hit Maple and then he struck rock and staggered off after the flash."

The sprite looked puzzled for a moment. "After the flash?"

"Yes the flash as the thing entered the stone." Oak grimaced. "Magic it was, man-magic."

Juliana nodded, turning back to the strange thing in her grove. "It must be removed," she said quietly but firmly. "The man must be found and made to remove the blade from the stone. I will not have iron in my grove." Her eyes flashed with the power behind her statement.

As if called up by name another being entered the grove. He was taller than the average forest dwelling fairy. Almost man tall he was an oddity in this wood. For he was not a fey at all but a being of another type. Not human or troll or elven even, he was of older blood indeed. Before the fey had moved to the wood, before the human thought to enter with their weapons of iron there lived a race of beings who were a part of the wood around them. Each and every one of them had something unearthly about them. Even to

those of the fey blood they seemed strange and powerful.

Erland was one such being. He liked to spend time in Juliana's grove, speaking to the trees and the stones. The cry of the chair stone brought him into the grove when others were about. He walked past the flitting fairy woman and gently rested a hand on the stone. "I feel your pain brother stone. I will help you if I can."

He turned to the fey and the trees. "How did you allow this to happen?"

"Allow? Allow!" shouted the fairy. "I did not allow anything. I was on my rounds when the human entered the grove."

Erland looked at the fairy woman for a long moment and then turned to the stone once more. "You were right that the blade must be removed but the Man who did this can not do it." He studied the iron blade with narrowed eyes. Colors swirled in his sight about the blade. "The magic was not his but part of the blade itself."

Oak spoke up. "Is it one of the OLD blades?"

Juliana looked confused. "One of the what?"

Sighing Erland sat down on the air and pulled a pipe from his pocket. Flicking the end with his thumb he puffed for a moment before speaking. "What Oak is referring to is an ancient weapon made by a people that no longer part of this land. The Crafters they were called by my kind. They were a strange race, much

like the Man you saw. But the major difference being that they made magical things as easy as you breath."

Juliana settled on the ground and listened with huge eyes. "You mean they made such nasty things?"

The forest being nodded. "They did not make them to be nasty but just to make them. They never truly understood the uses that the things they made would be put to. They were innocents in a world filled with warriors. They would make something like this on a whim and give it to the first to pass by and ask for it."

The little sprite woman shook her head. "How foolish. Did they think that they were safe doing that?"

"No little one. They did not think of danger. For they were totally peaceful beings. When the first of their creations were raised against them they were shocked."

Juliana nodded, understanding coming to her soft eyes. "They paid a high price didn't they?"

Erland looked at the small winged woman for a time before answering. "The first time one of their creations were used against them they thought it was a mistake. For they saw the other races as children and they chastised the child who had harmed them. It was a simple tool that had been used for the

wrong purpose to their minds. They took the tool back and sent the creature who misunderstood it's use far away." He closed his eyes and puffed away at his pipe for a bit.

"Away?" came a piping voice from up in Oak's branches.

Juliana smiled as she looked up at the leaf baby. Always curious it had obvious come to join in the discussion just because it felt the presence of the elder one.

"Yes, away. With a flick of their fingers they could send a being far from their sight. They rarely had to but when they did they never heard from that creature again." He held out a hand and the small leaf baby fluttered down and curled up in his palm. "They had no idea where they sent those few they made go away

and they never cared. It was only important that they not be bothered again by that being." He lowered his arm and the squirrel-like leaf baby flowed onto his lap.

"Do you know where they sent those beings?" asked Juliana.

Erland nodded. "Yes I do." He sighed and went on with his story. "For long, longer than most have even tattered legends about, they sent away those who disturbed them and continued their work but finally the day came where one of those sent away returned."

"One came back?"

Erland nodded. "Yes. One of them returned. It is told to all in my family, from the days before the forests spread to cover the land that the One returned to take a simple vengeance on the Crafters."

Juliana fluttered down to sit at Erland's feet. "Vengeance? Why would vengeance be required."

"In the arrogance of those who have no natural enemy, the Crafters believed that they were the rulers of the world. They made no war, had no enemies and were more concerned about their makings than how to deal with other beings. They had no defenses other than the ability to send those that bothered them 'away'. Now this was a powerful tool when dealing with one or maybe a few of those who bothered them but when an army of people came they were overwhelmed."

The leaf baby gave a scared chirp and hunched down in Erland's lap. He looked down and gently smoothed the little creature's fur. "They were nearly wiped out when one of those they tossed away returned with an army of followers. They were taken, made to build the weapons that they only then knew the purposes of." He looked far off, his voice growing almost weary. "Many of the Crafters died rather than make their tools. They finally understood after many long generations just what they had been making and their shame became as great as their previous arrogance. Their captures soon found themselves holding not more than a handful of the Crafters. They became very protective of them then."

"Excuse me, Erland, but as sad as that is for them, what has that to do with the problem at hand?" Juliana's little face was streaked with tears but her voice was firm, harsh even.

Erland gently rested his fingertips on her soft cheek and wiped away the silent tears. "It is the telling of the tale that answers the question, little one. Be patient but a bit longer and you shall see."

Juliana nodded with a sigh and Erland continued. "It was a long dark time that the Crafters paid for their unknowing crimes. They were beings of long life spans, so they overpaid for their crimes. The were kept apart, living one to a stronghold. It was an added torture to a people who rarely lived in groups of less than twenty members. They started to dwindle, not having a care if they lived or died. It was only after a small group of a new race found one in a captured stronghold that the true tragedy was discovered. The lord of the keep was one who had kept records of what happened to the Crafters. The new race took pity on the sad remnants of a once proud people and made it a quest to free them."

"What race was this, elder?" Juliana asked, puzzled.

Oak spoke from behind her before Erland could answer. "That was the beginnings of the race of Man, child."

Juliana looked amazed and turned to Erland for confirmation, the elder nodded slowly. "Yes it was Man. Though they have changed over the time since then, in the beginning they were a noble race. That was before they outbred their understanding of the world."

"Man was once different?"

"Very much so. But to return to the story. The questers spent many years gathering together the few, sad ruminants of a once proud race. They nurtured them, brought them back together and helped them mourn their dead. And they made a pack. That the remaining Crafters would make no more of their tools and that

the decedents of the original questers would do their best to round up those tools that were loose on the world. They would bring them back to the Crafters and they would destroy them for all time."

"For many generations the tools trickled into the secret home of the Crafters and they were never seen again. From time to time one would be raised in the hands of warlords and it would cause much havoc until it was suddenly removed from history by some force that left no mark or record."

Juliana nodded, still anxious. She needed to know that this weapon would be gone soon.

Erland knew of her feeling and then he pulled forth from his pocket a small silver whistle. "The Man who came to this grove, I believe he might have been one of those descendants."

"What is that, elder?" asked the shy leaf baby.

Erland smiled down at the small being. "This?" He twirled it about and then putting it to his lips he blew. A soft and ethereal sound drifted into the clearing. Lowering it, he smiled again. "This is the answer to Juliana's request." With that he fell to smoking his pipe in silence. Nothing the sprite said could get a

response from him. She took fell silent after a time and they waited together.

Though time seemed to pass slowly to the sprite she was startled as a figure appeared in her grove. One moment the grass in front of the chair stone was empty and the next there stood a being with a quizzical look on her face. She looked at the axe for a few moments, from a few different angles and then she

reached out her hand and easily lifted the blade out of the stone.

It came loose with almost a sigh and the woman gently lowered it to the grasses. She winced at the blood that was flowing from the stone and she reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a powder. She dusted the stone with it and the wound closed, leaving not a mark on it's surface. She then turned to Erland and bowed. "The call was heard and I came. Thank you guardian, for bringing this last of my crafting to my attention." She then turned to face the small winged woman. "I am sorry that my counterpart placed the blade where he did. It was not done out of malicious intent but as a precaution. There was no way that anyone other than myself would have been able to take it from the stone. No human would be able to use it to harm another. He knew I would be able to heal the damage he had done." She placed her hand on the soft curls of the sprite. "This should not happen again in your glade."

Erland rose from his place and bowed to the Crafter. "My duty is done then?"

"Yes, my friend. This was the last of the blades to roam the world. The time of mysteries is over." She nodded, picked up the blade and then faded from sight.

Juliana cried out in surprise. "What did she mean? The time for mysteries is over?"

Erland sighed. "Just that, little one. The time of the great magic is over. Now you and your friends are the deep magic of this world. Hold fast to your glade Juliana." Erland then too began to fade.

"Where are you going?" Juliana jumped toward the elder, trying to hold him there.

His voice was still strong in her ears as his form slipped through her fingers. "Just that the time of my race is done. We were created to be a go between for the descendants of the heroes and the Crafters. The Man who left the blade here has died of the wounds he received bringing the blade here. He was the last of

his people, as she was the last of her's and I am the last of mine." His form totally faded and his voice drifted out one last time. "Goodbye Juliana, may the future be kinder to you than the past has been." Then he was gone.

*******

Juliana sat on the chair stone and looked about. There was something about her glade, something that wasn't right. But she had no idea. She looked about once more and then shrugged. It did not matter. Magic was strong here, she brought out her comb and started to sing. The magic in the air sparkled as

new memories were made.

THE END