#atozchallenge: Wyrm

Previous: Vila

“How do we know that we can trust this old crone?” The Fairy Queen said, her voice harsh in the silence. “Who can speak for what she says? What do we know of her truly?”
Ataneq pushed his way out of the crowd. “Your Majesty,” he bowed. “I am the adlet that Baba Yaga spoke of earlier. I do not know if all she posits is correct, but I, for one, can testify that as a wanderer from a far land, I have found my space in this kingdom of yours for the past fifty years.”
“But we know nothing of you either,” the Queen said.
“And so we are in a bind,” Alexei mumbled to himself. “Unless -” His face brightened as he raised his voice. “There is one, my Queen, who is eldest of all and who exists in all legends. The eldest of the dragons.”
“The Great Wyrm! But who would call him? Who would dare raise him from his slumber?” the Fairy Queen asked.
“The ancient enemy,” Darrick whispered under his breath, even as Baba Yaga’s face blanched. “The great evil whose blood even the earth rejects.”
“Wisest and most dangerous,” the Elven King added.
“So will none call him to council?” The Queen looked expectantly at the gathered creatures. Soft murmurs arose, each shaking their heads.

Then a tremor shook the ground where they stood. Great terror fell upon the fairy creatures, and they scrambled away or took to flight as they could, as the ground rumbled and trembled and grumbled. Heat arose in waves, and a strong wind blew. With the great beat of huge wings, a large scaled creature landed in front of the silver throne, scoring the ground where his talons touched.
“Above the four winds I was flying, and I heard my name. Who of you puny little creatures dared call upon the Great Wyrm?” His voice was like deep gravel.
“We do not call you with impunity, Eldest,” the Fairy Queen said, drawing herself up as regally as she could. Beside the great creature, she was like a doll of ice, fragile, breakable. “This old crone speaks of the end of our days, and we would seek to find the truth of it.”
The dragon turned a liquid gold eye on Baba Yaga. “Our days will always come to an end, and yet we are reborn with each new telling. Which end do you refer to, Mother Rus?”
“The end of all ends, o Dragon. When they tell our stories no more.”
The dragon laughed. “My story has been retold for six thousand years, from when I was the serpent who deceived Eve until now, when I am the great Smaug who hoards the gold as the King under the Mountain. Why would I worry about my end?” He grinned at the Elven King. “Ask our dear elves who have taken on a whole new life in this generation.”
“But when our stories end, o Dragon, where will you reside? Even if your story is told to perpetuity, without us, you are nothing.”
The dragon fell silent. “Pah, it is none of my business,” he finally said, stretching wide his wings and flying away in a rush of wind.

Next: Xiuhcoatl
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From Wikipedia:

The Latin word draco, as in the constellation, Draco, comes directly from Greek δράκων, (drákōn, gazer). The word for dragon in Germanic mythology and its descendants is worm(Old English: wyrm, Old High German: wurm, Old Norse: ormr), meaning snake or serpent. In Old English, wyrm means "serpent", and draca means "dragon". Finnish lohikäärmedirectly translated means "salmon-snake", but the word lohi- was originally louhi- meaning crags or rocks, a "mountain snake".[citation needed] The prefix lohi- in lohikäärme is also thought to derive from the ancient Norse word lógi, meaning "fire", as in Finnish mythology there are also references to "tulikäärme" meaning fire-snake, or fire-serpent.
In the modern period, the European dragon is typically depicted as a huge, fire-breathing, scaly, horned, lizard-like creature; the creature also has leathery, bat-like wings, four legs, and a long, muscular prehensile tail. Some depictions show dragons with feathered wings, crests, fiery manes, ivoryspikes running down its spine, and various exotic decorations.
Though a winged creature, the dragon is generally to be found in its underground lair, a cave that identifies it as an ancient creature of earth. Possibly, the dragons of European and Mid-Eastern mythology stem from the cult of snakes found in religions throughout the world.

#atozchallenge: Trolls

Previous: Sylph

It was the steady beat of many feet that woke the trolls under the bridge. If there had been any less, they wouldn’t have noticed, so light were the footfalls of the elves.
“Who’s that tripping over my bridge?” cried Papa Troll. No one answered him, so Papa Troll poked his head out from under the bridge. Two seconds later, he was hustling Mama Troll and Little Troll out from under the bridge and into the forest.
“Why are we running?” Mama Troll asked, lifting up her apron from getting in the way of her legs.
“We are being invaded by elves. We must inform the Queen,” Papa Troll replied, picking up Little Troll who was tripping over roots and stones and all sorts of things.
“Elves! But the elves left us a long time ago!”
“But now they have come back.”
They ran on in silence, Mama Troll with a big frown on her face, Papa Troll panting as he carried Little Troll. As they ran, Papa Troll shouted a warning to every passing creature that he saw.

The three trolls burst into the centre of the court, startling everyone.
“Oh Queen, My Queen, we are being invaded!” Papa Troll blurted.
“Who dares invade my kingdom?”
“The elves - the elves are coming with bows and swords!”
Even as he spoke, the sound of running feet made every one turn and rise to their feet. The elves poured into the court, weapons at the ready.
“What is the meaning of this?” The Fairy Queen’s face darkened with anger as the Elven King strode up to her throne.
“Hello, my dear,” he smirked.
“Why do you come armed to the teeth and ready for war?”
“There was a disturbance in the balance,” he said, his glance flicking towards Darrick. “I believe you were about to murder one of my subjects.”
“Your subject?”
“Yes. Estranged, surely, but one of mine.”
“And why would I have done that?”
The Elven King shrugged. “I have never professed to understand the way you think. But I felt it, as sure as you feel my sword at your throat now. You were draining his life force -”
“Who? Prove it!”
“Adanion.” He beckoned Darrick with a finger. Erurainon escorted Darrick to the king’s side.
“Mother! How could you?” Ivy turned on her mother.
“I stopped when you - but how is he yours?” the Fairy Queen asked the Elven King in confusion.
With a sigh, the Elven King explained.

Next: Unicorn
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From Wikipedia:

A troll is a supernatural being in Norse mythology and Scandinavian folklore. In origin, troll may have been a negative synonym for ajötunn (plural jötnar), a being in Norse mythology. In Old Norse sources, beings described as trolls dwell in isolated rocks, mountains, or caves, live together in small family units, and are rarely helpful to human beings.
Later, in Scandinavian folklore, trolls became beings in their own right, where they live far from human habitation, are notChristianized, and are considered dangerous to human beings. Depending on the region from which accounts of trolls stem, their appearance varies greatly; trolls may be ugly and slow-witted or look and behave exactly like human beings, with no particularly grotesque characteristic about them. Trolls are sometimes associated with particular landmarks, which at times may be explained as formed from a troll exposed to sunlight. One of the most famous elements of Scandinavian folklore, trolls are depicted in a variety of media in modern popular culture.

From the tale of the Three Billy Goats Gruff.

#atozchallenge: Jaculus

Previous: Imps

Darrick fumed silently. As soon as the Elven King had dismissed him, Erurainon had grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the elven halls. His elves had then flung the bag back over his head and with grips as tight as vices, started to haul him away.
“Wait - Please you have to help me.”
“Shut up.”
“Eru -”
“Don’t you ever speak my name.” His voice was a low growl. “Now shut up, or I’ll shut you up.”
They’d been walking for a long time since, as silent as the grave. He could barely hear the sounds of the elves passing - they were as quiet as his mother. Mother, Darrick thought.
“Just listen to me, uncle.” He felt the grip on his arm tighten. “You search far and wide for my mother. You know the pain of a missing loved one. Don’t you think I feel the same for my daughter?”
He waited for a reply.
“Just lead me to the Old Fairy Kingdom. Lead me to where your… people last saw her. Your grand niece. I won’t come back here again, I promise.”
There was a whisper, nothing more.
“You won’t be disobeying anyone. Please, just this one favour.”
They stopped so suddenly that Darrick knocked into the elf in front of him. He blinked as they pulled the bag off his head. They were back in familiar forests and the sun had risen higher than he'd expected.
"You are at the edge of the three realms," Erurainon said. "Straight ahead you'll find a portal through to the Old Fairy Kingdom. It only opens for a span from even until midnight. We go no further than here in this light."
Darrick looked at the place Erurainon had pointed at, and when he turned his head, the elves had vanished into the forest.
"Thank you," he called anyway, sure that they could still hear him.

There was nothing in the clearing except for the rubble of an old house. To wait until sun down was a long time. Darrick contemplated returning home first - he'd been gone all night, after all. Ivy and Mary would be frantic. He was just about to turn when something small and heavy hit him from behind, sending him tumbling like a rock.
The imps surrounding him laughed.
"What was that for?"
"Get down, elf-man. A jaculus hunts you."
"What?"
"Just follow us."
"Where?"
"Somewhere. Nowhere. Anywhere. Just follow us if you want to live."
Darrick hesitated, but the little people pushed and pulled him and he allowed himself to be led by them. After all, Ivy trusted them. Or used to, anyway. Once they reached the edge of the house, he saw it. The small dragon creature hissed at him, frustrated that his prey had gotten away. It seemed to glare malevolently at him before slinking away.
"Thank you," he said, wondering at this turn of events.
"Thank us? Thank the Witch. If it were not for the Witch, we would not care about you. Already we waste time with you, clumsy elf-man."
The imps huddled together, ignoring him. They seemed to be tracking something.

The silence of the forest made him uneasy again. Could it be the elves returning? Or could it - he caught a flash of dark gold from the corner of his eye. The jaculus had not left. The imps’ squabbling remained at the edge of his awareness. No, no, no. The dog-man would not take her in. Why not? He has a kind heart. We should look for the dryad instead.
This time, he was aware. When the dragon creature pounced, he ducked, grabbed a convenient rock (the same one the imps had thrown at him, he supposed) and threw it at the creature. It hissed and slunk away again.
The imps stopped squabbling to stare at him.
"Hm. The elf-man has his uses after all."
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Who are you looking for?"
The imps shared uneasy glances and huddled again, this time whispering so quietly that Darrick couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally, what seemed to be their spokesperson turned to him. “We have decided that you will indeed be of greatest help in our mission for the Witch, no matter how we do not like your kind. We search for the Witch’s daughter.”
Darrick stared at them in incomprehension. “I don’t see why -”
“Come, we have no time to waste. The portal here is closed. We must go the long way.”
“The long way to where?”
“To the Old Kingdom, of course.” The imps set off at a slow jog.

Next: Kelpie
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From Wikipedia:

The jaculus (or iaculus, pl. jaculi, meaning "thrown" in Latin) is a small mythical serpent or dragon. It can be shown with wings and sometimes has front legs. It is also sometimes known as the javelin snake.
It was said that the jaculus hid in the trees and sprang out at its victims. The force of it launching itself at the victim led to the association with javelins.[1] Pliny described it as follows: "The jaculus darts from the branches of trees; and it is not only to our feet that the serpent is formidable, for these fly through the air even, just as though they were hurled from an engine."[2]

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HELP, I'M MAKING THIS UP AS I GO ALONG!

I had a crazy busy week and now I've lost my lead. :(

#atozchallenge: Half-elf

Previous: Ghillie Dhu

The hands that guided Darrick pushed him to his knees.
“What is this, Erurainon?” The deep voice came from in front of him.
“We found this man wandering in the forest, in direct defiance of the covenant.” Darrick recognised the voice of his captor.
“Is that so? What did he have to say about it?”
“He claimed he had no knowledge of the covenant - and that none in their village know if it.”
“A likely story. Well, let me see him then.”
The bag was pulled off his head. Darrick looked around to find that he was facing a tall, ornately carved oak throne in the middle of an unfamiliar forest. The trees here rose higher than any he had remembered seeing, and were lit with a strange ethereal glow. All around him, elves stood looking at him with varying expressions.
Darrick could almost feel the weight of the Elven King’s stare. He lifted his eyes to the throne and matched it with a glare of his own.
“Why have we not seen you before?”
The question was as unexpected as it was strange. “What do you mean?”
“You. We have not seen you in our halls, at our table. You are one of us, and yet you are not.”
“Father?” Erurainon looked at the Elven King quizzically.
“Bring him here.”
The elf gripped Darrick's forearm and pulled him to his feet.
“We can do without those restraints,” the King said.
“But Father -”
The Elven King stepped forward, waving aside Erurainon's protests.
“What are you looking for?” Darrick finally asked as the King scrutinised his face. He rubbed at his wrists, where the rope marks stood out red and angry.
“What was your mother’s name?”
“Lisa.”
The King frowned. “Lisa or Lisse?”
It was Darrick's turn to frown. “We - well our village called her Lisa, but my father - he called her Lisse.”
“Lisse?” Erurainon interrupted. “Erulisse? Father, what are you getting at?” Darrick's captor alternated his perplexed gaze between his father and the intruder.
“Is she still alive?”
“I don’t understand -”
The Elven King gripped Darrick's chin. “Tell me, Adanion, is your mother still alive?”
“No. No, she’s not. She was killed in a raid when I was a child. How - how did you know my nickname?”
“Is that what she called you?”
“Darrick Adanion, she called me. None but her. In no one else’s hearing. How did you know it?”
“Explain, Father!” Eruranion cried.
The Elven King shook his head. “Not here. Bring him to my chambers.”

“Father, I love him. I cannot live without him.”
“But he will die and you will not.”
“Then I will die with him.”
“Why must you give up your immortality for his brief life? Forget about him. In a short span of time, he will be no more. You will find love amongst us.”
“It has been done before throughout the ages. They yet tell of Arwen and Aragorn, of Beren and Luthien, of Idril and Tuor. Why can there not be a tale of Erulisse and Adam?”
“If your heart is set on this -”
“It is, Father.”
“We are closing the portals, Lisse. Men are not welcome here any longer. There will be no choice for your children, not as Elrond and Elros were given. They will be sons of men. ”  
“I - I understand.”

Darrick sat silently as he listened to the Elven King’s story.
“You never told me, Father,” Erurainon's voice was an angry whisper. “For years, I thought her lost. I searched for her.”
“And now I have. We could not close the portals, not completely, as you know. In the light of the moon, men may still enter our realms. So we signed our covenants with the villages of men in order to protect our dwindling folk from the world of men. Less than fifty years, and they have forgotten. But it is to be expected. The lives of men are short and their memories are shorter still.”
The King sighed and sunk into his cushioned chair.
“And what will you do with me now?” Darrick asked.
“Do with you? Nothing. Go home, Darrick Adanion, and never come back. You have no place here.”

Next: Imps
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From wikipedia:

In Norse mythology, a half-elf is the offspring of an elf and a human.
Notable examples include the Danish princess Skuld of Hrólf Kraki's saga, and the hero Högni of the Thidrekssaga (his mother was a human queen), and the royal line of Alfheim, which was related to the elves and more beautiful than other people, according to the Þorsteins saga Víkingssonar.

In other contexts: 

The concept was borrowed by modern fantasy authors. Perhaps the earliest such published usage is the character Orion in Lord Dunsany's The King of Elfland's Daughter.
The concept gained popularity through its use in the writings of English fantasy author J. R. R. Tolkien. As a result, half-elves have become common in other fantasy writings and related material such as role-playing games. In Tolkien's works, the term Half-elven or Peredhil refers only to a few related individuals throughout history, however, in many post-Tolkien writings, the term half-elf designates an entire race.