Hillary stepped cautiously over the damp ground cover, and slipped behind a redwood tree. Sam followed close by her heels, panting lightly. The sun peaked through branches of tall trees overhead, but the dense cover above shielded the forest floor and kept the light from penetrating around them. Hillary judged it was past 6:00 and time she left the Tranquility Woods for home. She waited and watched. Sam waited, too, his large brown eyes filled with anticipation.

Soon the sun set, and the shadows deepened and the dark Woods closed in about the two. She leaned against the trunk of the redwood, as Sam snuggled against her leg, and fireflies began their flights of fancy on the wispy night breezes. At the same time, creatures of the night whispered their evening serenades, and the Woods settled into the time of enchantment following sundown. There was a slight stirring in the Woods, as Hillary’s head nodded forward.

Sam awoke suddenly and found himself beside a sleeping Hillary. The sun was up, but because of the tree cover above, the light was still subdued. He rose and moved forward, peering around the trunk of the massive tree. There in the clearing was a Knight in black armor, and at his side, a magnificent steel-grey stallion, its hooves jet black, its eyes flashing. A faint hint of fairy dust hung in the air, and there were traces of it on the giant toadstools beside the pathway leading through the clearing.

The Black Knight studied the residual traces of dust, touching surfaces lightly with his fingertips. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply — Sam noticed the scent of lavender on the air. “Princess Avery has been here, Trinian,” the Black Knight whispered. “It appears Tollbottom, too, was here,” replied the horse. Sam froze at the horse’s spoken words, his eyes widening. The horse snorted and stamped his forehoof, raising a light plume of dust into the air around their feet. “Yes,” said the Knight, “there were a number of Little People here in the Woods last night.”

“The signs speak of the Princess Avery moving silently about the Woods, blending into the shadows, avoiding the all-seeing eyes of those not intended,” whispered the Black Knight. “She maintains contacts with the Little People, much to the chagrin of her Uncle, Sych Jhaymahn,” added Trinian; “Lord Jhaymahn of the House of Tehrasov in the County Sheridan would not take kindly to her being in the Woods of the Little People, especially after nightfall.” The Black Knight nodded. “The Princess puts herself at-risk, though her temperament and stubbornness would hold her to her chosen course.” He smiled — “It is her nature, and true to the strong will and single-minded stubbornness inherited from her Lord Uncle. They are a well matched pair, indeed.” He chuckled, and Trinian smiled his agreement.

The Black Knight suddenly stood, and spoke, “You there — come forth into the opening!” His eyes flashed, his face grim. “I am Sir Brandwynn, Knight of Salisbury, and this is Trinian, my trusty companion. Identify yourself.” Sam stepped from behind the tree trunk, and standing before the Black Knight and his horse, introduced himself: “I am called ‘Sam’ by my friend here, though my given name is Merlin.”

The Black Knight held his gaze: “Welcome to the Enchanted Woods, Merlin. What brings you hither?” “My friend was summoned,” said Merlin. “She hears the song that comes on the evening winds, or that sometimes nestles in the brief lulls during summer storms. She is one who dreams, who lives in a world where dreams are elusive and fleeting and ill appreciated.” The Black Knight listened intently, his steel-grey eyes steady. “And you, my friend,” asked the Black Knight, “What brought you?” “I am companion to the young girl, her protector and aide,” answered Merlin. “I know not whither we travel now, for I am not privy to her dreams, or what business we are about as results of her calling. I am here at her pleasure and service.” “You do right by your charge,” said the Black Knight. “Come — our business is as hers.”

The three knelt beside the path examining the faint evidence of the previous night’s happenings. “Princess Avery paid a visit to Lady AmberLynn,” said Trinian. “She had with her a contingent of the Royal Guard whose presence it was to insure her well-being. And, true to the powers of the Enchanted Woods, the Royal Guards swooned upon entering the dark Woods, and slept through to morning, awakening just in time to escort Princess Avery home in safety.” Trinian paused. “But why during the hours of midnight?” wondered Knight Brandwynn aloud. “Lady AmberLynn is Queen of the Night, and First Lady of the Little People,” replied Trinian. “Such is her Realm — and in her Realm time has no bounds.” Trinian smiled, and Merlin nodded knowingly.

Thus on the first new moon following the summer solstice did Princess Avery visit the Lady AmberLynn. Squurm Jimahl, corrupt Wizard under Lord Jhaymahn, followed her, hiding within the shadows of midnight. Well acquainted with the darker powers of the Enchanted Woods, he invoked a protective cover of sinister spells, and thus he viewed the intimate scene hidden by a cloak of darkness. Squurm Jimahl muttered irritably to himself as Lady AmberLynn lifted a crystal challis in toast to the success of Knight Brandwynn, Lord of Salisbury. Princess Avery, too, raised her glass in concert. “Knight Brandwynn leads a host of the enemy of your Uncle, fair Princess,” said Lady AmberLynn — “To his success in dispelling the melancholy shadows cast upon the Realm. And, lest your Uncle come to harm in the process, to a transforming change of heart for Sych Jhaymahn.” Princess Avery nodded, and replied: “To his success, indeed, on both counts.” The two women smiled and drank of their wine. Jimahl grimaced, casting a dark eye upon the two women.

Tollbottom watched Squurm Jimahl intently, himself hid within the spell shadows of the Woods. Suddenly Puqq materialized beside him next to the ancient oak, startling him half out of his wits. “Don’t do that!” whispered Tollbottom, flustered; “You scared me half out of my wits!” Puqq laughed, and chucked his dear friend on the shoulder.

“My friend, you are much too serious! This shadow play we are witness to is a midsummer’s delight. Now, it seems old Squurm Jimahl is on a foul errand for his Lordship,” quipped Puqq, a gleam behind his hazel-green eyes. Tollbottom watched, still a little ill-at-ease.

Puqq continued: “Lord Jhaymahn spies upon his niece in order to discover clues to Knight Brandwynn’s whereabouts. With that information he would seek to capture the Lord of Salisbury as a traitor and enemy of the Realm.”

“Oh me! Oh my!” moaned Tollbottom. “This will not do! No, No! This will not do!”

Puqq laughed again, and putting his arm across Tollbottom’s shoulders, said, “Not to worry, my friend. Princess Avery is watched over by the spirits of the Knight in union with the Little People, a formidable corrective to the dark spells and elixirs of Wizard Jimahl. While our eyes do not discern those spirits directly, their powers are indeed present. And of a truth, Princess Avery is not one so foolish as to underestimate the powers of darkness.”

With that, Puqq leaned forward once again.

“How can she be so calm in the face of such dangers?” asked Tollbottom, a worried look still working his face.

“Ah, you see, she knows that Squurm Jimahl is present though cloaked from vision, as does Lady AmberLynn,” said the confident Puqq. “This is the Enchanted Woods — one does not underestimate the powers of enchantment, either,” he added with a smile.

Squurm Jimahl watched for as long as he could stand it, and then deciding it was too cold, too dark, and that there were too many crawling things underfoot, he turned and retraced his steps through the darkness. He stumbled, and regaining his balance, pushed on, stumbling numerous times more. His frustration grew, as he barked a shin on a downed tree limb, stubbed his toe on a gnarled root, and tripped over low-lying bushes in the dark. The cover of darkness prevented observation by his quarry, but it also prevented haste in his retreat.

Across the Valley of BenFarthing and beyond the Talisman River, deep in the Shadow Mountains near the northern border, the Princess Avery Tarkenton returned to the Dark Towers of her Uncle, Sych Jhaymahn. His Realm had once been of great renown, a Realm of good will and light, and of prosperity and wondrous things.

Once upon a time. The armies of his Realm were once mighty, respected for their discipline, dashing and courage — yet, too, for their benevolence. Now, however, they serve little more than as guardians of cold and desolate halls within his isolated castle.

At times Symp Thomayne, Captain of the Royal Guard, travels through the Realm with a cadre of his High Guards bearing naught but a lesser notice from the Lord, posing no deterrence to enemies of the Realm. Dark and grey times are now unwelcome guests of Lord Jhaymahn’s castle, and his once loyal subjects now laugh and derisively call him by names unsuited to his high position.

A once accomplished orator, his words now fall on ears deaf to the hollow harshness of his cynical thoughts given form. Princess Avery is the only bright thing in the Royal Castle, and the apple of Lord Jhaymahn’s eye. Her presence in any room lifts the intelligence level measurably, and her smile radiates throughout and pushes back the pall of darkness that surrounds her Uncle and his cronies. He understands not her effect upon a room that suddenly brightens and turns on a positive note with her mere entrance. His efforts to control and intimidate, to hold and squeeze the wills of his subjects, are always undone whenever she enters any arena he commands. Her laughter warms even his heart, though sadly that is short-lived.

Princess Avery loves her Uncle in spite of his darker side, in spite of his unholy disposition, in spite of his meanness. Instinctively and without a self-referent thought, she brightens his life, lifts his heart touching his soul, and lightens his countenance with just her smile. Lord Jhaymahn’s subjects marvel at this, for in their eyes he is not so deserving of such love.

Sych Jhaymahn entered the drawing room with great pomp, as he was wont, his head held high and looking down his nose at all he surveyed. As he passed through the Royal Drawing Room, he caught his shin on the sharp edge of a low table, and in a slow tumbling motion, fell in a heap, his arms flailing helplessly in the air. He tried to break his fall, but his protective actions were ill suited, and his pallid and flabby face hit the floor hard, leaving his nose bruised and bloodied.

He bounded up quickly, dusted himself off, and pinched his nose to staunch the bleeding. His regal white blouse was stained with dark blotches of red. He looked quickly around and found his court standing with bemused looks, their lips curled in smiles not to be denied – it was indeed such a sight.

When eyes met, however, lips took a grim turn, and the glint in a score of eyes gave way to the cold desolate look of fear, and the room fell into silence as though time had frozen. Sych Jhaymahn turned on his heels still holding his nose, and with his regal robes trailing behind, made his way down the spiral staircase to the foyer of his castle, where awaited the wily Wizard, Squurm Jimahl.

Squurm Jimahl reported that he had been unsuccessful in obtaining information of the whereabouts of Knight Brandwynn. Sych Jhaymahn was not pleased, and his cold steel glare struck a deep fear within Squurm Jimahl.

“The Princess Avery was in the Enchanted Woods last night, meeting with Lady AmberLynn…” — his voice trailed off as Sych Jhaymahn’s eyes grew large with disbelief.

“And you are just this moment reporting this to me?” hissed Sych Jhaymahn, his face flushed, his eyes wild with anger.

“Your Lordship, I just this moment returned from the Enchanted Woods…” — and again his voice trailed off as he was cut short by Sych Jhaymahn’s icy glare.

“Silence! Bring my niece to me at once!” And with that, Squurm Jimahl scurried down the cold stone steps, through the desolate halls, and into the western sector of the castle to Princess Avery’s room.

A timid knock on a massive wooden door. “Your Highness, your Uncle requests your presence in his chambers at once,” whined Squurm Jimahl. He turned, and followed by the Princess Avery, trudged back through the desolate corridors and up the cold stone steps to her Lord Uncle’s chambers. Princess Avery thanked Squurm Jimahl, and slipping past him, knocked on the massive door to the Royal Chambers.

“Enter!” came a harsh voice. Princess Avery slipped the latch of the wooden door, and pushed the door open. Sych Jhaymahn’s eyes softened as his beautiful niece stepped into his Royal Chambers. The dark room, dimly lit by torches set in the walls, appeared to brighten.

“Dear Uncle – You are well?” asked the Princess Avery.

“Yes,” he answered – then, a pause: “No, I am not,” he admitted. “I am distressed on learning of your visit to the Enchanted Woods last evening,” and as he spoke, his voice softened further, his eyes lost their harsh glare, and the tension in his body eased. She smiled and reached out a hand and laid it gently on his arm.

“I wish you no discourtesy or ill will,” said the Princess softly, “but the Little People of the Enchanted Woods are your people as well, Dear Uncle. And, Lady AmberLynn is your sister — I merely spent time with family dear to me…”

“I have need to speak with Knight Brandwynn,” interrupted Sych Jhaymahn. “Do you know his whereabouts?” He held her eyes, but his lip quivered noticeably, betraying his not so hidden intent.

“Dear Uncle,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes, “Sir Brandwynn resides in Realms of the Knight and keeps company with spirits of the nether worlds. He moves with shadows in the Enchanted Woods, and his comings and goings in the light of day are out of sight of all. He brings the powers of the Enchanted Woods to bear on the workings of your Realm, for which you should be grateful. Dear Uncle, he is not the enemy of the Realm, but a true friend.”

Lord Jhaymahn furrowed his brow. “I am pleased that you are safe,” he said softly. “But, as for Knight Brandwynn being a friend of the Realm, that will be seen in due time.”

Sam nudged Hillary’s leg, and licked her face. Hillary stirred, and opening her eyes, rubbed the sleep out of them. She reached out and petted Sam, and looked around. The light was dim, and she guessed it was just after sunrise. “Hey, Sam – it’s time to get back home. I guess we’re not going to see anything this time. Sam licked her face again, and as she rose to leave, he looked past the clearing to the other side — he smiled and turned to leave with his young friend…