The Many, Part Two (standard:fantasy, 667 words) [2/2] show all parts
Author: Vincent Collevera	Added: Apr 04 2010	Views/Reads: 2442/2	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The Green Man.

The grate of steel against steel brought him back to consciousness
again.  The newly refitted steel door to his cell opened to reveal the 
Guard Captain and four of his Guardsmen.  He noted the dull glint of 
light from their armor and from the solid steel shafts of their new 
spears.  He also noted that these were four new guardsmen.  He smiled 
at that, although it caused considerable pain to his shattered face. 

"Notice some differences in my men?"  The Captain asked cheerfully. 
"Solid steel spear shafts and not a single wooden handle amongst their 
knives.  There will be no plant material here for another of your 
little tirades.  This time it will be done right.  Even the rope we'll 
be hanging you with is silk.  What do you think of that, Green Man?"  
He said with more than a touch of smugness.  He was put off a bit by 
the sound his prisoner was making. 

The rough gurgle that shook itself from the man's crushed ribcage was
the closest he could come to laughter at this point, but the sound was 
enough to convey his mirth adequately. 

"And exactly what is funny about this?" 

The Captain took a step forward and lifted the prisoner's head by a
fistful of hair. 

"Fools.  Bloody fools, all of you!"  He choked out, pink froth flecking
his lips. 

"Your shirts.  They're made of cotton!" 

And, still laughing, the Green Mage exerted his indomitable will upon
the fibers of those garments.  He reminded them what it was to be alive 
again and with a nudge of his power, he informed them of the bags of 
rich fertilizer they were wrapped around. 

Screams quickly became wet hisses over-ridden by loud clanks as five
armored men fell to the floor to thrash shortly before becoming still.  
Their internal organs had been punctured countless times by hair-thin 
roots and patches of leaves and white balls of cotton now protruded 
from every gap and chink in their armor. 

A runner from the small patch of cotton outside his cell snaked its way
in to him, casting off woody shoots to each of the shackles around his 
ankles and wrists.  After a moment, the squealing protest of metal 
being stressed beyond the point it could handle preceded the rattle and 
clank of chains falling to the floor and against the wall.  The 
prisoner, Kelban Rale, staggered to his knees, leaning with one hand 
against the wall of his cell.  It seemed he had waited too long.  The 
abuses he had suffered here in this dungeon had broken his body.  Of 
magical power, he had plenty.  Even now, he could grow an acorn into a 
towering oak in a matter of seconds.  But it would avail him very 
little if he could not leave this place un-aided. 

He sat like that for several minutes, wracking his brain and attempting
to regain some of his strength.  He reached out weakly with his hand 
and gently with his power to the plant near him, wanting comfort and 
solace in what he expected would be his last hours.  The plant 
responded in a way he never would have expected.  The vine-like growths 
shot towards him and twined tightly around his wrist.  He felt a sudden 
influx of energy from it at the same time his bones and muscles began 
to knit themselves back together.  His pain dulled, then vanished 
completely as he was healed.  After some time, he came back to himself 
and looked at this miraculous plant.  It was brown and withered, having 
given up every bit of its life energy in response to his plea. 

With tears in his eyes and gratitude in his heart, Kelban stood on legs
made strong and whole once more and mounted the stone steps out of the 
dungeon.  Soon now, they would feel his wrath.  Soon this edifice of 
stone, mortar and pain would crumble to dust and be reclaimed by the 
green things and he would walk away free once more. 


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