Darkest Depths: Part Two - Catharsis

Featuring Crowe, with Berach and Graínne

Early Autumn, Year 759 of the New Age

The Redwater, Blackwood

Days had turned into weeks, which had turned into months so quickly on the wayward pair, and before they knew it an entire year had slipped by. Time blended, and everything started to look the same.The majority of their journey had been spent in the safety of the winding labyrinth of tunnels belowground. The branches of Oakfern’s cave systems spread far beyond the natural land borders- the jutting spine of mountains that wreathed the Blackwood like a massive slumbering beast. Even though their time had been mostly spent underground, the journey had been no less arduous as it would have above… these tunnels were as old as the earth itself, and they were treacherous and unkempt. The stones jut out at odd, jagged angles, prepared to catch a hoof or a leg at the slightest misstep. Some of the tunnels had been perilously narrow, or the path had been uncomfortably skewed. Crowe found herself sticking anxiously to Berach’s bad side, prepared to support him with her minimal weight if he faltered.

She had to give him credit, though, he handled the terrain like a stag half his age. Eventually their good luck in Blackwood ran out, and the caves grew too narrow to allow him through with his massive set of curling antlers. In short order the pair were forced upward into the wide and dangerous world of the surface.

The thought of it had been daunting at first, but Crowe refused to give an inch. She wouldn’t let Berach see her scared of this, not after how far they’d come, not when they were so close now. Never mind that they were very small in this world of giants, and both were on the lighter end of the spectrum, standing out like pale beacons against the dark woods…

Were it not for the steadfast determination of her mentor, Crowe feared she would have given up on this quest long, long ago. Guilt plagued her for it… both for the very thought of abandoning this mission and leaving Elspeth to the greedy clutches of the Oathbreakers, and for her unwillingness to pry her grip loose of this grudge. Nuala was her name… the Swan Doe… Crowe couldn’t think of her pale coat without tasting anger hot in the back of her throat, and at the same time… it was because of her she could see again. Every time she started to feel herself begin to forgive, she was reminded of how inadequate that silly doe was. She couldn’t take care of herself, let alone Elf, and her resolve steeled again. They would find the forest kingdom of the pale-coated Oathbreakers, and they would bring Elf back home where she belonged- back to Oakfern.

Their conversations had been mostly musings on the strange visions that had been plaguing Crowe since that first frantic plunge from Oakfern’s main territory. The dreams of drowning, of snow, and of clashing Gods…

Berach had surmised that Gealach’s message for her would become clearer with time, but it didn’t stop the slight anxiety from creeping in. He had warned her before, and she had heeded his message too late… she hoped that would not be the case this time around. Her guard was up, and with every day that passed, she tested her skills and her strength with their God’s element. With every day that passed, she grew stronger…

And so did the visions.

They replayed and coalesced in her unconscious mind, so that even when she was awake she could see the images dancing against the backs of her eyes- the blackness surrounding her, the pale light, the owl and the wolf, fighting each other with tooth and claw and talon… fighting to the death.

Oddly, Berach had seemed withdrawn in certain aspects of the conversation, but Crowe always assumed it was strain from their journey and the pain his old wound caused him. Blackwood had, thankfully, proved to be somewhat bountiful in its herb cache, and between their conversations of dreams and visions, her roan companion managed to force some more knowledge into that stubborn, slender head of hers. Willowreed, found along the banks of the Rabbit river and the Redwater to help with his aches; elderberries to help defend against the cold. Berach had confessed he wasn’t the most profound healer, but together they had learned of some of the spoils of Blackwood- however few there were...

The stocky stag had sent her on ahead to monitor their course, and she was determined to show him she could be reliable. This entire journey had him rather reserved and forlorn, but she always sought to shoulder the burden in any way she could.

Her hooves dug through the damp soil circling the Redwater, her magical senses extended, feeling the vast expanse of the lake at her side, the living things stirring in the underbrush of Blackwood. She was looking ahead and to her left, since the lake lay at her right, carefully picking her way through the low lying foliage in the dark. Far, far overhead , Gealach’s eye looked down on her, the only thing in the clear, dark sky. She cast her eyes up at Him as she paused for breath, uttering a silent prayer for safe journey for herself and her teacher. Gealach had favored them thus far on this epic trek, she hoped His grace wouldn’t fade from them now.

She closed her eyes against the caress of his light and breathed deep of the frigid autumn air, holding it in her lungs. Gealach would not abandon them now, not when His eye looked upon them so, so closely. So intently. Watching always.

The steady breeze that rolled down from the mountains flanking the lake stilled suddenly, and an oppressive hush settled over the dark forest. Not an animal stirred in that darkness, and with the sudden quiet, icicles of fear gripped her heart. She could barely dare to breathe, turning slowly toward where she had left her mentor back along the lakeshore, her ears tuliping forward. His scream split the night, and suddenly her heart was a-thunder in her ears. The white doe lunged forward, equal parts terror and fury grappling for succession in her chest, her slender hooves digging deep furrows in the mucky shore. Forward she plunged into the night, blind to anything but the horrified cry of her mentor… her friend.

However fleet her hooves, however powerful her fury, nothing could quite prepare her for what she laid eyes on when she got there… Berach, the indomitable stag who had taught her everything, lay in the mud, his body twitching, legs scraping uselessly at the silt before he finally seemed to shudder and lay very still. She felt like her world, the undisturbed surface of a still pool, was suddenly awash with ripples. A part of her fractured, and her white-rimmed eyes jerked to the garish apparition that stood over him…

It had no shape. No shape she could pick out. It was a nightmare, its skin writhing and heaving as the talons of a raven, the snarling face of a wolf, the extended claws of a cat all reached out of its flesh. It didn’t move, and yet she could tell it breathed. Within it beat a heart, and life flowed through its veins… blood.

The enraged scream ripped through her before she could help herself. It was wordless but filled with agony, with fury. She lunged forward at the wight, icy needles punching up out of the ground where her hooves had been. The surface of the Redwater glittered for a second, crackles of frost dancing across its still facade, but before she could even hope to land a blow, the demon turned toward her with eyes like voids and her world went dark.

She felt like she’d taken one step too far and toppled over end into nothing. She fell endlessly as more nightmares, just like the one that had stood over her friend, spiraled around her. All over her they reached with talons that belonged to a raven, to a wolf, to a tawny cat. They raked her open, flayed her, dove their icy fingers into her eyes and pulled her skull open wide. The black masses crammed themselves into her yawning cranium, washing her brain away and replacing it with their dark ilk. They wanted to scrub her out. Erase her. They wanted to pull apart everything she was and leave only her body to rot there in the mud, there alongside her mentor.

Her rage heaved upward, coupled with the panic. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t see a thing, and yet… it didn’t really matter, now, did it? Another scream tore out from her throat, raw and primal, and the entire surface of the Redwater jittered and jumped. The waves lapping the shore receded, pulling back, and then doubling on themselves. Water hissed and roared, and the sound of it drowned out Crowe’s breaking voice. The water steepled skyward, and wrenching from the flow, the head of an owl freed itself, black eyes filling with white light as the moon shone through its clear face. Its massive beak gaped open, and with its breath, massive wings tore free, sending down sheets of raining water. It swept its wings and rose, the water all around and beneath it roiling, one massive four-taloned foot pulling clear, then the other.

“You,” Crowe inhaled sharply, struggling for air and clarity above the growing shadows, her pupils pinpricks in wide dark eyes, circled all around with white. There was nothing in the world but the eyes of the apparition and her hatred, her clawing hunger for vengeance.

“You DIE NOW!” Her voice was drowned out once again in the torrent of descending water. The massive liquid owl stretched forth his talons, reaching for the fluttering edges of the apparition’s shadowy cloak. His wings swept, and the whole of the lake suddenly beat down upon the shore, hammering aside trees that lay in its path, crushing whatever stood there in its wake.

The world was awash with sound, with the deafening roar of crashing water before it swallowed her and silenced all. The water fled back to the lake it had vacated, dragging uprooted foliage, debris, and her body back inside. Unmoving, she stared upward through the hazy void, drifting lost. Gealach shone His light down on her, and she closed her eyes against it. She was cold to the point of numbness, but that was fine. Everything was familiar. The emptiness around her, the cold. She knew she’d end up here. She sighed out whatever air was left in her spent lungs and she relaxed.