Damien found himself running for his life extremely frequently. He was quickly making his way out of the forest after his encounter with whatever mind-warping happened to him. That was before hearing the giggling.

A sweet soothing giggle erupted from nearby. Giggling wasn't something many animals did as far as Damien knew, meaning he was being fucked with by something intelligent. Thinking about this was doing no good, so Damien shelved the thought for faster panicked sprinting.

Damien kept running faster and faster, pushing himself to escape. His efforts felt useless, the voice was still giggling in his ear. Damien redoubled his efforts and kept pushing harder.

Nothing was really working, he was still in this damned forest- ‘Wait what?’ Damien’s frantic mind skidded to a halt as he slowed down. He remembered avoiding traveling too deep into the forest so he didn’t get lost.

‘Why am I still stuck here?’ Damien thought as the gears started turning in his head. He finally took some time to look around. As he glanced around he saw… forest, forest, and more forest. There were no distinct characteristics around that could distinguish one area from another. He couldn’t even see any traces of his frantic running as he looked behind him. Something was off. Damien continued to hear the occasional giggling right in his ear, but it wasn’t driving him nearly as mad as before.

He continued moving through the forest, and something about how the forest moved around him was off. Several moments later it clicked. He was still under the magic from before. The bone-chilling, primal fear from when it first hit him was long gone, but there was still a constant feeling of anxiety that plagued him. Not only that, but his perception was being warped as well. His mind and senses were being influenced and he didn’t know what to do.

Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Damien started investigating. He inhaled through his nose, taking in the smell of rain. He needed to figure out how his mind was being influenced if he hoped to get out. Two theories formed in his head. He was either experiencing a minor illusion or something greater. If it was a minor illusion there would be errors, such as feeling things he didn’t see or vice versa: that would be something he could deal with. Damien immediately started testing by grabbing at a nearby bush.

As he grabbed the shrub, disappointment welled up within him. He continued to search but found no discrepancies and felt panic start to overwhelm him. He was having trouble thinking with the cloud of fear in his head tainting his every thought and the dashing of his hopes added despair into a mix.

He struggled frantically, scratching, punching, and biting himself in hopes of freeing himself but nothing was working. He continued his fruitless struggle for minutes, before becoming too exhausted to continued and collapsing on the ground. Damien felt the anxiety grip him once more but this time he didn’t fight it. The fear of the spell melded together with Damien’s natural fear and despair. As he continued to slump facing the ground he felt heat slowly rise to the center of his face. Tears started streaming down his face.

Damien sat there silently sobbed as the rain droned around him. His small body was shaking from both the cold and the quite hics from his crying. He sat there until his body could produce no more tears. The cumulative exhaustion from straining his body and then crying caused him to drift off the moment his weeping ended.

A cacophony of laughter is what Damien had the pleasure to awaken to. Bleary-eyed and overwhelmed from the noise, Damien shakily sat up, attempting to ignore the stiffness and pain in his back. He took a moment to register his surroundings before paranoia grabbed him again. He felt his eyes start to water again at the thought of being trapped still before he felt a wave of calm wash over him. Caught off guard by his rapid mood swing, Damien finally noticed them.

Around him were densely concentrated motes of natura energy. Damien tried to manipulate one of the balls of energy and found it completely immune to his influence. Damien found this startling before he noticed one of the motes rapidly dancing around his head. This mote that was circling him vibrated as another giggle entered his head.

These motes were sentient, no, sapient. Damien felt a fire ignite in his stomach as rage gripped his mind. How dare they torture him like that. His face warped into a snarl. But as fast as the feeling came, it went. No, it was suppressed.

As Damien realized what was happening his anger continued to flare and was continuously suppressed. His mind eventually balanced out as mildly irritated. His absolute disdain at having his mind perverted like this was strong, but not strong enough to nullify the effect. So he forced himself to stop worrying about this problem and focus on the next.

Damien started preparing to head home. As he forced the moving blips out of his head, he fully absorbed the setting he found himself in. His bag was on the ground next to him, and as he sat up he grabbed it. Time to set off.

‘That incessant fucking giggling!’ The mote continued to follow Damien as he made his way out of the forest. His frustration was building with the constant intrusions into his mind, but— ‘What the hell?’ Damien’s musings were interrupted as disgust, horror, recognition, all hit him at once. His stomach dropped as he saw the town blacksmith assaulting Kera. She was horribly bruised and sobbing.

Damien didn’t have time to think before he rushed horn in hand in a blind rage. His fae energy vibrated with his emotion propelling him forward at breakneck speeds. He stabbed the scum in the back, horn empowered with fae energy ripping into the man. Damien felt his side smashed into, causing him to crash wildly into the ground.

Pain flared in his left arm and Damien realized it was broken. The pulsing pain from his sides and his mangled arm was a splash of water that brought him back to reality. Rushing the blacksmith down like that was a terrible idea. The man was built like a brick shit house from his years of manual labor. Damien probably would have been noticed and not have been able to do anything if the man wasn’t beating a fucking chi— Damien forced himself to calm down.

As Damien was struggling to control his flaring emotions, he felt them become suppressed again. Damien was reminded again of the dancing light surrounding him. He felt appreciation well up as the fae energy continued bouncing around before he focused on the task of hand. Damien shakily stood up as the blacksmith glared back at him with a hint of confusion and pain. Damien reached around to his satchel with his right hand grabbing the second horn from his pouch as he braced himself.