Battle Hymn of the Republic

"I expect this tale should live up to all the rest," was how the mysterious woman sent Skarnir off.

The frost sprite felt like an ice cube fresh from the freezer, almost tacky too the touch with how cold he was. Zippo squirmed until he landed on the man's shoulder, with Burri plopping down on the other. On one side there was the crisp smell of autumn and fresh fallen leaves, on the other, the nip of austere winter.

"I'm Zippo," introduced the faerie, trying to be polite as he held on tight, "and... and... I'm sorry to say this... but we've been watching you..."

"I thought I was watching him," commented Burri, confused.

"You were sleeping."

"Not always, he cuts the weeds and schmoozes with the grain child."

Zippo struggled to find meaning in Burri words, and instead chose to address the present.

"Mr. Caxton told us to watch you," explained the chilly fae, grippign tight to Skarnir's shirt.

"Well, he said, 'Keep an eye on the glade when Skarnir is pruning it.'" corrected Burri, "Cause the grain child is important. I think. Right?"

"Not the pressing issue," Zippo asserted, "there are people at Mr. Caxton's lab in the woods. It's an old troll's den that he's turned into his own station, but there's a lot of things he keeps locked away there that people shouldn't be getting into. I can fly above the treeline to help you find it."

"Why?" asked Burri.

"Because it's hidden in the forest."

"But there's at least three flattened paths from the glade we just left that go to the lab, and one from the school."

"Really? I've never noticed."

"I mean... they're kinda small, but, it's how I've been finding my way back."

"Then, shouldn't we go back to the glade?"

If Skarnir felt the cold he didn’t show it, and while it was slow Zippo might notice his chill doing more than seeping into the Northman’s shoulder; it was almost like the cold was being drunk in as a magically inclined creature might sense a growing energy on the man’s gloved right hand, and the feeling felt vaguely malicious. As he heard the mention that he was taking the long way around he picked up the pace, and with a notable shift in speed he tilted into a full sprint as he tore through the underbrush.

“Alright, Zipps, from Flynn’s shack, where do I head?” Skarnir’s voice rumbled as he breached the woods and turned to Ruarc’s cottage, where he could see his rucksack sitting in one of the chairs of the patio table.

"Burri?"

"Theres a little path that peels out of the Garden. Goes all the way back to the lab if you know what to look for."

As Skarnir gathered his things, he could see the gate guardian of Safeholme stomping along one of the pathways. A couple of students gave him a funny look, but let him go along undisturbed. Flynn's godling watchdog went into the woods, but not in the direction that they were headed.

Burri scratched his head, "Do ya think he knows he's going the wrong way?"

Zippo looked uneasy, partially for what he knew of Aurus, partially for what he didn't know about Skarnir.

"Burri, what's in that direction?"

"Couple of good sunning spots out at the river bend. That dark, dead tree we're not supposed to go near. A fish."

None of that assuaged Zippos concerns, but Burri tried with, "Don't worry. I think the fish will be fine, he's pretty clever; and important, I think."

With quick and practiced motions Skarnir doffed some of his gear, including his work gloves which revealed a rather mundane appearing ring on his right hand. Touching a metal pin on his chest, from which emanating from the pin, a series of polished metal scales folded outward and into place across his chest, over his arms, and down past his waist. As the adamantine scalemail unfolded around him, Zippo and Burri would find themselves shooed off of his shoulders for a moment as a pair of pauldrons and a gorget wrapped around his shoulders and neck, all the while he arranged his stuff to optimize time. When his armor was finished the Northman had slung his pack and with greataxe in hand was already starting off down the path indicated by Burri.

“So? Any more details for me to work with?” Skarnir asked as he swung his sallet helm onto his head, but leaving the long visor up.

"They must at least have a talented mage to get through the school's wards without alerting everyone," surmised Zippo, hovering over the pauldrons, before his hands could find grip on the worked edges, "but the forest edge is where the wards tend to be weaker."

"It lets spirits come and go," Burri added this while struggling to keep up, "that way the Wilderwood never gets stagnant."

The forest thickened again, and Skarnir stomped along a very narrow trail into the woods. Whatever had cut the path had either been a small animal, or a child, as it was hard to trace. Burri helped direct Skarnir along of he veered off, while Zippo tried to make sense of the situation.

"It could be they masqueraded as a spirit to press through... Maybe they are spirits? Maybe we're overreacting? But then... the gate guardian..."

"Those people at the lab seemed real."

"I wish Mr. Caxton were here, he'd know the exact thing to do."

"Huh, that boulder's new."

A craggy hand the size of a man shot out and snatched up Skarnir. The two sprites were shaken off as a giant rose from hiding, squeezing the warrior in its iron grip before spiking him into the ground like an empty, adamantium beer can with a force that would've killed a normal man. Determined his quarry was dead, the lumbering ogre erupted in cold, raucous laughter.

Zippo froze as he realized what was on front of him.

"A cewri."

"Zippo, what are you doing," Burri yelped, "Flee!"

The little frost sprite's eyes grew wide, as he found himself unable to move. A pair of large fingers snatched him out of the air, and he found himself suspended over a yawning maw of yellowy, frosted teeth. All Zippo could do was flail and kick.

"N-no! M-m-ms. Kagami!" Zippo squealed, "S-someone! Please!"