Chronicles of the Overworld Book 1 — Nihal of the Land of the Wind by Licia Troisi Read Free Book Online Page A

one of Soana’s.”
    A general murmur of approval rose up from the assembled sprites.
    “That means you’re a friend. Soana’s a good human. I have to confess that when we first saw you, we were scared. Not to mention all that racket you made last night!”
    With a little pirouette, Phos fluttered closer to Nihal’s ear. “Many of us are survivors of the Tyrant’s persecutions and no longer trust a soul.”
    Nihal was beginning to like this funny little creature who acted as if he’d known her forever. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I have some food with me. Why don’t you and your friends have breakfast with me?”
    Phos and his friends accepted right away. The clearing filled with little voices and laughter. The wood sprites were fluttering all around. Many stopped to give Nihal elaborate thanks. Nihal helped Phos to a cozy seat on her knee.
    “So, you’re the head of all the wood sprites.”
    “Not precisely. I am not the head of all wood sprites, only of the ones who reside in the Forest. You know, our community is the biggest one in the Overworld. Nowadays, the forests are disappearing as fast as the eye can see, which means death or flight for our kind.”
    “But why? Can you only live in the woods?”
    “Are you kidding? We
are
the woods! A sprite without a forest is like a fish out of water. Some of our kind have tried to live in other places, even with humans, but they’ve gradually shriveled up—that’s the best way to put it—and died. We can’t survive if we don’t have woods to look at and the smell of trees to breathe. What could be more beautiful than a forest? In the winter you can play hide-and-seek among the branches and sing lullabies to hibernating animals. In the summer the leaves provide shade and you can play in the rain!”
    “The Forest looks perfectly healthy to me,” said Nihal.
    Phos’s eyes became sad and his ears flopped over like a beaten dog’s. “The Tyrant destroys the woods in the lands he conquers in order to produce weapons. And his lackeys, those wretched Fammin, hate us. They’ve captured many of our kind and forced them to become their jesters. It’s a sad end, you know? We’re free as the air. All we want is a green place to live.”
    “I know what you mean. I want to be free, too, and fly from one adventure to the next. …” Nihal pulled herself up. “You know what? I’m a warrior—that is, I’m going to become one—and I’ll fight the Tyrant! I’ll fight for all the wood sprites. I’ll join some army and free you from slavery so you can go back to life in the woods!”
    Phos gave her a world-weary look. “That would be nice, but the world as we know it is disappearing. All we can do is hole up here and do our best to defend ourselves.”
    The ancient Forest was reflected in Phos’s eyes as he sat cross-legged on Nihal’s knee and gazed off into the distance. Nihal felt strangely connected to the threatened race. For a moment it seemed as if her inner voices were crying out to the wood sprite’s wounded heart.
    “Maybe you’re right. But evil cannot always reign. In the future, there will certainly be a place for your people.”
    Phos smiled. A moment later he was bright and happy again, as if he’d never uttered those somber words. “So come on, already! Tell us why you’re here. You mentioned a trial.”
    “Soana said I have to commune with nature. She needs to know if it accepts me.”
    “What do you mean by commune with nature?”
    “You know, feel it inside me, feel it flowing through my heart. At least, that’s what I think she means.”
    “Is that all? That’s natural for wood sprites.”
    “How do you do it?”
    “It’s not something you do. You just feel it.”
    Discouraged, Nihal threw herself down on the grass. “How will I ever manage? Soana says I have to concentrate, but I can’t. There are so many little noises all around. I can’t help it—I’m so scared!”
    Phos burst out laughing.