Of Bears and Elves and Monsters Dire, Chapter 2

Since all you’re going to know about my honeymoon was “bowchickabearbum” and “ooo, look at that waterfall” ;) I thought I’d share the next chapter of my new book with you. It’s possible I’ll keep doing this until it’s done. Just because :)

Read Chapter 1 Here

Chapter 2

Eion ap Scythes stood at his kitchen counter making a cup of tea. Through the window in front of him, Eion watched the tiny fairies flit amongst the spring plants in his garden, their bodies merely pinpoints of green light in the growing twilight of northeastern Heiddew. The scent of honey and lemon reached his nose at the same time  the air around him seemed to shiver. Glosdir was returning from his mission to continue their visit. As Eion turned around, Glosdir heaved a sigh.

“There’s no challenge with that one,” Glosdir said in a low tone. He slumped on the wooden stool on the other side of the island counter from Eion. Glosdir fluffed out his pale blue gossamer skirt and crossed his legs beneath the flowing material, looking beautiful as ever. He tossed his long, thick, white hair over his slender shoulder and huffed a breath before meeting Eion’s gaze with icy blue eyes.

Eion smiled patiently and held up the teapot. “You would prefer something other than under-bed monsters to slay each night?”

Glosdir waved off the offer of tea with a frown. “They’re barely as big as my hand,” he said and held up his graceful, be-ringed hand. “I don’t even have to leave my bear form to dispatch them. I almost feel bad killing them so young.”

Eion scoffed at that. “Better to get them small than full-grown. Imagine the devastation of nightmares one of those could cause.” He set down the teapot and picked up his cup and saucer. A sip of the sweet tartness of his tea warmed his throat and down into his belly. It was a small comfort.

“Do you miss it?”

Sighing before he looked up, Eion assumed he didn’t need to answer. When Glosdir reached over and patted his forearm, Eion knew the longing in him was easy to see.

It had been a decade since his charge’s bear became inaccessible. Well, Eion could access him, but there was no point since the bear had been locked up somewhere dark all this time. If his bear wasn’t free to move about, he couldn’t slay anything or be of comfort to his charge either. Eion hadn’t felt the pull to his bear form, the one thing that would’ve let him know Wells had taken his bear out of confinement at last.

“I’m sure others have kept him safe,” Glosdir said with a small smile meant to cheer.

Eion nodded, though he still worried. Many homes had at least one accessible bear, but if there were none, it wasn’t necessarily cause for alarm. Under-bed monsters tended to have a territory of homes, so another elf would most likely encounter the monster at some point and slay it. Rarely had there ever been a serious problem there.

But Eion still worried.

Under-bed monsters wove nightmares and fed off the fear, loneliness, despair…whatever sucking emotions they could plant in a human’s mind. Young monsters caused wakefulness and tears, but the bigger they got, the worse havoc they inflicted on the day life of their victims. Before Eion’s clan of elves had found the solution back in the early twentieth century of the human world, the malevolence had begun to spill between worlds, causing all manner of havoc in Heiddew.

At first, the elves had slayed the under-bed monsters in the human world to save themselves and their own. It had since become a worthy cause to devote one’s life to. Eion was proud to be a bear elf.

If only he could visit Wells again.

“So,” Glosdir said, perking up quite a bit. “I’ve met someone I think you’ll like.”

Eion closed his eyes to stop them rolling, but didn’t hide his groan.

“Oh, stop.” Glosdir swatted at him. “It’s been two years. You deserve to find a match, Eion.”

Eion sipped his tea and nodded. “I do, but I don’t want to rush anything.”

“Two years is rushing?” Glosdir’s blue eyes widened and he held a hand to his chest. “I can’t imagine lasting two weeks.”

“I can’t imagine you lasting two days,” Eion said with a smirk.

Glosdir’s shoulders rose and he giggled like a youth. Eion laughed with him.

“I can—” Eion cut himself off and stood frozen as a tingling sensation rippled along his nerves. It couldn’t be. Could it? He set his teacup down with a clatter.

“Eion?”

But all Eion could do in answer was smile in happiness and relief. This was the feeling he had been waiting for. He was about to merge with his bear form, visit Wells once again, and make sure his charge was safe through the night.

As Eion faded from his world to the human one, he heard Glosdir’s whispered, “Oh, Eion, finally.” He couldn’t agree more.

Now that Wells had taken his bear out of confinement, Eion could go to him once again. How he’d missed listening to Wells’ mumbled, midnight confessions. He’d missed being able to give back reassurances while Wells dreamed.

The merging of elf into bear was as seamless as it had always been, the bear making room for him to fill its tiny body with his essence. Like putting on a well-worn coat, Eion settled in and looked out through glass eyes.

This was a different room than before. That wasn’t so surprising, considering the passage of time. It was odd to see such the starkness given the clutter Wells had been capable of creating as a youth. Except…there were short towers of brown boxes, a few with contents spilling forth, so perhaps this was a new place for Wells to be. That could be why Eion’s bear form had been allowed out again—Wells needed comfort.

Looking down from his perch on the pillow, Eion smiled. “You’ve grown up,” he whispered to his charge.

In the eight years since Eion’s bear had gone dark and unreachable, the boy had become a man. Less gangly and now simply lean, young Wells even sported whiskers along his jaw and upper lip. Eion smiled and slid down the pillow to get a better look.

In sleep, Wells still appeared youthful despite the close-cropped beard. Before the bear’s darkness, Eion had seen an attempt to grow a mustache that hadn’t appealed to him nearly as much as this furry frame did. Not that he was meant to show such interest in his charge, of course, but Wells had always been special. Eion didn’t really know why.

Smiling fondly, Eion whispered, “Such a handsome man you are now. I’d never doubted it happening, but it’s nice to see I was right.”

Eion raised his little bear paw, meaning to smooth away the tense wrinkle between Wells’ brows, but a growl from below stopped him. It was an alarmingly large sound. Surely Wells hadn’t acquired an under-bed monster of any great proportion. He might not’ve had his own bear available, but others would’ve kept control of the population in the area.

But when Eion turned and beheld a monster the size of the bed he stood upon, he knew something was very wrong here. Very wrong.

In a blink, Eion took his elfin form, and quickly called on his sword. The leather-wrapped hilt appeared in his hand a moment before he raised the gleaming steel to ward off a swipe of claws. Unprepared for the sudden and vicious attack, he didn’t have time to summon clothes, let alone armor. He raised his sword over and over to counter the repeated slice of talons in his direction. He spun away from the reach of a reptilian snout full of teeth. But the room was small and both elf and creature had little space to maneuver. A stack of boxes toppled, Eion jarred his hip against a chest of drawers, and the monster’s tail and wings scored the walls and ceiling. The nauseating, sour stench of the beast’s breath made Eion’s eyes water, blurring his vision.

You should not be, Eion thought as he slashed and stabbed at the monster. Fighting was instinct, but his mind was abuzz with the impossibility of this monster’s massive size. It was damn near a full-grown dragon, something Eion had never seen in all his eighty years fighting them. The last one he’d killed had been smaller than his bear form, mere inches long. This one… It should not be.

It was inevitable that the monster strike a few blows. Eion maintained his magic, keeping the sounds of their battle to a minimum, the stuff of strange dreams for the humans nearby, but the effort was costing him. He’d never had to do this before. Never had to fight outside his bear form. His hands shook, his breath came in ragged gasps, and all his training seemed to flee his mind in a panic. He had to get ahold of himself, of this fight. He could do this. He would win.

A swipe of sharp talons down his side, shoulder to waist, made him cry out in agony as he dropped his sword from suddenly numb fingers.

Wells. He had to protect Wells. An under-bed monster this size wouldn’t merely spawn a moment’s nightmare, forgotten with the dawn. No, one like this could cause night terrors to plague Wells in sleep and consciousness. The fears it could sow would rob Wells of his joys until only a husk filled with pain and anger remained. His life would be shortened and dreadful to live.

Eion could not fail.

He dove for his sword. Grabbing it up, he flipped onto his back as the monster dug claws into his thighs. With a raging cry of pain and determination, Eion stabbed his sword up into the monster’s neck. It reared back with a roar, dislodging the sword and spraying blue and stinking blood on them both. When it made to bite into Eion’s stomach, he plunged his sword down into the base of the beast’s wide skull. It dropped instantly, slumping to its side and away from him with a massive groan.

It was done, but he had not truly won.

Gasping, feeling his life drain away from him through gaping wounds, Eion looked to the bed beside him. He couldn’t see Wells now, but he’d killed the monster that would’ve slowly destroyed his innocent charge. While another under-bed monster would eventually take this one’s place, once Eion died, so too would another elf take his place within the bear. Wells would not be without a guardian.

Tears stung Eion’s eyes as he gave up on maintaining his magic. With his death, both he and the monster would return to Heiddew, Wells none the wiser of what had happened here. But Eion wanted to be remembered. It was wrong and he should not, but he’d mourned being unable to reach his charge when the darkness first came. He didn’t want to leave Wells a second, far more permanent, time.

“Forgive me,” he said, his voice a ragged croak. “Ah, Wells, forgive me.”

As his heart beat slower, Eion used a touch of magic to put the room back to rights. No scored walls, fallen boxes, or pools of blue and red blood. In fact, no evidence of anything would remain when Wells woke in the morning. A sob escaped Eion. Nothing of his time here would remain.

Or perhaps a memory would after all.

Eion gasped up at the pair of wide brown eyes peeping at him over the edge of the bed.