《Will of the Thousand》


 The Pleading Messenger

    To thou whom I spear, know that within thy vessel thou harbors a great purpose; thou wills unto life the prosperity I will unto thou. It is through I whom thou are directed, and through I thou are given purpose. Know that thou, without purpose through which I have given, thy vessel shall be naught but a tool for the gods. Stay in grace, for I have delivered thine purpose; and offer up to me thy soul, as it was a mere blessing from I.


    ***


    Drawing short breath, an arrow was knocked and bowstring drew taught. Through silent release, too came the arrow¡¯s silent whisper. It flew, making strands of the wind through which it soared; through the breadth of spoken landscape, it fell just short of its stalk.


    Naught a moment from the first¡¯s departure, another arrow was knocked, drawing back to the shoulder. The stalk reared its gangly head in suspect of a whisper. It was to run, but with exhalation, the bowstring snapped, and the arrow flew through the dull silence of the pass. The missile whistled gleefully as it soared, starlight illuminating its metallic point. The stalk knew of the incoming arrow, but it naught had time to flee. It watched as death charged headlong toward it, coming in the form of a singing bird. In naught a mere moment, the bird descended upon its stalk, talons outstretched, beak agape. It killed the beast with equal vigor as it carried through flight, piercing through the beast¡¯s bulbous eye and embedding itself deep into the skull.


    The drawer of bowstring climbed down from their perch atop a high tree. They walked across the soundless pasture between their perch and the fallen arrows. On their way, the chilled night blades crunched underfoot, and a cold wind brought a biting freeze to the stranger¡¯s lungs. The eerie darkness seemed to sway around the weight of the stranger. Eyes watched out from the murky waters, their forms obstructed by the pine and willow which guarded them. The stranger paid them no heed, instead effortlessly seeking the arrow that fell short of its mark. Grasping its shaft with one hand, the stranger continued towards the resting-place of the beast. They sunk into the high grass, and they parted the reef of blades with their free arm. The beast laid there quiet and motionless, no sense of agony or any pain thereof. Deeply embedded into its skull was the messenger, cutting near short of the fletching.


    The widower brushed their hand upon the beast¡¯s snout, still warm, yet lacking the breath of life. Folding their fingers under the beast¡¯s lips, they examined its teeth; pristine as the buck was young. Grasping its horns, they rolled its head to examine the other eye; intact and glossed by death. Lifting its leg, they examined its tread; large as the stalk was tall.


    The deliverer brought their hands together for a silent prayer. They offered up the beast¡¯s soul to its kindred spirits. They offered to take upon all its pain, and they offered to expend all its hatred. With sincerity, they thanked the beast for its kindness and offered gratitude by laying none of it to waste. With this gesture of parting, tranquility came to the watchers in the wood. Everything came still once again, and the stranger was free of their burden. Another cold wind came ravaging through the pass, chilling the stranger deeper than the earlier gusts.


    Upon lowering their hands, the exile drew a knife and made to expertly remove the beast¡¯s coat from its body. They sliced up along the inside of its legs, meeting at a prior slice through its underbelly. The stranger then began separating the skin by the rear straight of the beast, pressing the bladed edge against the muscle, easily disconnecting it from the pelt. Without excessive force, they tore the remaining coat up to the buck¡¯s nape, there making to remove its head from the pinkish trunk.


    Through the thickened muscle and fat, the listener intricately cut, seeking the cavity of the heart. When they uncovered it, the reddened mass was still beating. It throbbed slowly, attempting the vain effort of keeping its body alive. The stranger stabbed at the valves of the heart with their knife, removing it from the body as it stopped pulsing. They held the heart in their palm, then raised it to a position above their head. As was tradition with any kill, to fully embrace the wills of their stalk, the stranger let the fresh blood of the beast drip into their open mouth. The stinging taste of iron overwhelmed their senses, and the impervious stranger winced slightly at the discomfort.


    As the moon shone above them, the butcher continued their work. Slicing the prime meats and separating the excessive fats, removing the viscera and entrails, wrapping everything in fashioned slices of pelt. They extracted the eyes and brain from the skull, setting it with the other bones they wished to bring. Even the bones that would be seen as worthless, the stranger packed and brought. After they had finished, there was not the slightest sign of a killing. With this, the stranger departed. And as they walked, the sun came to greet them and warmed their back on the journey home.


    The travel was nothing irregular. The speaker crossed peaceful, uncontested ground. The world through which they walked was silent. Aside from the churning of dirt and leaves under their foot, there wasn¡¯t so much as a whisper from any tree, as the wind did not provide them voice. Birds flew overhead, but they did not sing or call. Treads were left in the dirt, but they seemed to follow only each other. An occasional stream was the only proof that the forest breathed while in the presence of the stranger.


    They walked for hours. Dawn passed as the sun rose into the sky, turning to midday. And as it rose, it so too fell; its cascade of light to be replaced by the incandescent shimmering of the stars. But before the cycle could come to pass, when the sky came to resemble a roaming desert overhead, the traveler reached their destination. A small village in the forest offset by the natural curve of the land, overlooking a grand lake as dark as the sky was red. The houses were awkwardly arranged, some keeping to tight clumps while others strayed further from the rest. They were very poor, being structured from wood which made to hold the mud and manure used to keep the spaces closed.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    It was a young village, seeing as trees were still being cleared to make the land for tilling. The people were very busy, even into the coming of night. The men worked to carry the fallen trees to be made into timber. If not this, they were sure to be tilling the land or ensuring the oxen were safe in preparation for nighttime. The women and children too had their own work to be done. Whether it be preparing the nightly meal or tending to the remaining animals of the household, entire families went without an early rest. In some vestige of the village, due to the shortage of hands, the women occasionally worked the field for their family as well. Although mostly grueling, the people didn¡¯t dislike the conditions of the village, seeing as the young lord wasn¡¯t of the normal imperious nature.


    However generous the lord was told to be, the stranger didn¡¯t trust his words. Thus, they remained away from the village. They walked along its outskirts, catching some attention of the people as they passed. After their recognition of the stranger, the people returned to their duties, offering nothing of greeting upon their return. The stranger returned as much care as the villagers had done to them, and continued on their way down the slope away from the village. The lower the stranger descended toward the glassy lake, the more gripping it seemed to be. Previously a simple recognition that it was there, eventually becoming a spectacle the eyes would stray to behold.


    The stranger¡¯s cottage sank into soft earth on the easterly side of the lake, its rear wall sharing the stone face of the looming mountain edge behind it. The building was simple at best¡ªmany octaves grander than those of the village people¡ªbut still paling in comparison to a cheap city home. Its walls were made of small logs piled atop each other, leaving no openings aside from the door-frame, in which hung a pelt of some sort. To provide better safety, there was a meager perimeter made of stray sticks, all arranged erratically and unevenly. Effigies comprised of bones and other animal parts hung around the fence and lined the house, providing solace from unbeknownst spirits or people. Its top was awkwardly slanted, with one side being shorter and flatter than the other. Vines, herbs, and flowers all crawled up the sidewalls of the cabin, equally spreading about the ground¡ªsome wild, some not.


    Atop the straightest edge of the roof sat a black mass of sorts, its surface rising and falling in a calm rhythm. As the stranger approached, it stirred, first sprawling out along the planks of the roof, then lifting its head to lay sight on the stranger. Its feline face had no complexion, as the coming of night masked the bristles of its blackened fur. However, its silvered eyes shone in the darkness like that of a stray coin gleaming under a moonlit sky. Its saucers fixed on the stranger, monitoring their movement towards the cabin. It watched, staying absolutely still, as if the stranger hadn¡¯t already noticed is presence. When the stranger finally met its gaze, the cat took its time to stand, then silently jumped down to the earth.


    The stranger entered their home, taking time to discard the heavy sack they had been carrying on them. Within the cottage were more plants and effigies hanging from the ceiling, along with a large variety of animal skulls¡ªeach painted with different markings in unique colors. Woven barrels and boxes lined the walls of the building and stray books and wooden carvings laid on the floor. As little that went by furniture, there was still a bed in the furthest-back corner with a blanket made from woven animal pelts atop a mattress seemingly stuffed with straw. Following the length of the bed there was also a wooden table, atop which sat more stacks of books, an oil lamp, and the cat with silvered eyes.


    There was no way the cat could have entered from the side of the house, but the stranger paid the thought no heed. Instead, they walked towards the lamp, beside which was a pair of flint and steel filing that they struck together to light the wick. A soft, flickering light illuminated the interior of the cabin, revealing the intricate notches and irregularities in all the wooden surfaces. As well, the detail of the cat¡¯s fur could be seen more prominently. Its hair was not long and looked as if it wrapped its entire figure tightly. The warm glow of the fire reflected off its beautifully clean fur and in its coin-like eyes. These eyes were the ones that continued to follow the stranger as they retreated back to their bag, beginning to unpack its contents.


    The cat became curious as the stranger laid the pelt bundles on the floor, and lunged off its perch beside the fire-light. It walked, trustfully approaching the stranger and leaning its head down to smell the rich stench of meat from the bundles. The silver-eyed cat sat down, its tail methodically swaying along the wooden floorboards, the deep rumble of a purr coming from its throat. The stranger acknowledged the cat¡¯s purring and unwrapped a large slab of venison, swiftly cutting an enjoyable piece from the whole and setting it before the cat.


    Suddenly, the stranger heard the intricate noise of muffled grass outside. Assuming from the weight, the step came from a person. The movement was slow at an uneven pace, indicating the person was impaired, therefore not a large enough threat for the stranger to struggle against. They waited for the noise to stop, eventually at their perimeter of fence. When the stranger emerged from their dimly-lit cabin, they could immediately recognize the hopeless, worried face of a frail old woman. An old woman who stood lopsided and whose face was as leathery as tree bark and whose hair was as colorless as the turning leaves. An old woman wrapped in drab cloth, stained from soot and dirt, holding a bundle of wool tightly against her chest.


    She had stopped at the fence hung with bones, unease filling her soul. However, as soon as she saw the image of the stranger, it evaporated from within her. She spoke hurriedly, in a pleading manner. She spoke earnestly and filled with emotion. Please doctor. Please, my boy does not breathe. He does not breathe but he does not pale. Please doctor, my boy isn¡¯t dead. Please help him.

 The Harrowed Trial

    ¡°Please doctor,¡± the old woman said, taking one wobbly step forward. She pulled the woolen bundle away from her chest and held it out in front of her. ¡°Please, my boy does not breathe. He does not breathe but he does not pale. Please doctor, my boy isn¡¯t dead. Please help him.¡±


    The stranger looked at the woman in front of them. Shaking from the cold, with a vision of fearful desperation inlaid on her leathery face. Her eyes told the stranger of her grief and sorrow, but also of her hope. She did not take her eyes off the stranger for a second, although fear and unease burrowed into her soul. They watched each other for more than a moment, curious about the other, and if the woman would succumb. The stranger took a step from their cabin, watching if the woman would take an equal step back, but she did not. She still stood, shaking from the cold¡ªweak but resilient.


    ¡°I do not take volunteer requests. Return on the morning after I breakfast and I may harbor your will. Be sure to award suitable compensation, or I will not bear to even consider your pleas.¡±


    ¡°No. It must be tonight. Doctor, please,¡± she brought the woolen bundle back to her chest and took another step forward. The stranger turned their back to the woman, proceeding to walk through the hanging cover of the door-frame to enter the cabin. Disregarding her own safety, the woman continued forward past the perimeter fencing, fear no longer waning her duty. ¡°I know he does not pale, I know he lives, but I do not know if he lives till morning! Please doctor! I will scrounge through every parting of my home to find a reward. He must live. This baby must live. Please.¡±


    By the end of the woman¡¯s pleas, she had hurried uninvited into the stranger¡¯s home. She did not stray to notice the abundance of herbs, effigies, carvings, books, or skulls within the house. She had naught to even notice the silver-eyed cat outstretched on the wooden table, its belly being warmed by the dim oil lamp. She had only to look at the stranger¡¯s frame, their back still facing her. The stranger stood, not still, but eyes looking around the ceiling of the building. The woman had not seen the stranger¡¯s movement, for her focus was finally shifted to the environment where she had placed herself. Her eyes came to the skulls around the home, wondering if there might be a human¡¯s among them.


    After her thought, the woman¡¯s eyes quickly leaped to the skull worn over the stranger¡¯s face. They had moved silently to the other side of the building, now facing the woman, holding a sort of plant in an enclosed fist. She felt fear rising within her again, similar to the feeling before vomiting. The stranger took a step towards her, followed by another. The woman resisted the urge to take equal steps back. Her courage was entirely replaced with fear. As the stranger approached closer, the woman desired to move, but could not. Her heart began racing ever faster, her breathing quickened so slightly that it wasn¡¯t noticeable by the stranger. The woman began to regret seeking the stranger¡¯s aid, but she knew they were the last chance she had left.


    The stranger stopped mere paces from the woman, looking down at her from their height and an elevated step. They held an outstretched hand, thinking the woman would understand their notions. But when the woman looked at the open palm unknowing, they said, ¡°Give me the babe.¡± She recoiled slightly, drawing the woolen bundle further into her chest, engraving her worries into her actions. Fear overwhelmed her, and her breathing hurried even faster¡ªenough for the stranger to notice. Before she could turn into a hobbled run, the stranger said, ¡°I will help you.¡± The woman relaxed slightly, her fear being enveloped by a newfound hope. ¡°If you give me the babe, I can help it.¡±


    While elated by the stranger¡¯s words, regret and distrust still snuck in the empty places of her heart. She knew she had to trust the stranger, but she could not bring herself to willingly do so. The old woman relaxed her grip on the woolen bundle and looked down at it. She watched the only open space where the child¡¯s face saw through. The child could not have been over mere days of age. All of its features were small¡ªits nose was no more than a button on a tiny ball of yarn, and its lips hardly bothered to part its face. The child¡¯s eyes were softly laid shut and its expression resembled a peaceful dream, and as the woman had said, its face was flush the color of a ripe fruit.


    The woman looked away from the child to stare at the extended hand of the stranger. For a mere moment she considered passing her hoard into the glove of warped leather, but then she thought to find the stranger¡¯s eyes¡ªto find if there was compassion floating within them. When she looked up, all she saw was the white dust of bone. The daunting sight of a horse¡¯s skull came down below the stranger¡¯s neck, completely masking their face. The skull could not have belonged to anything larger than a pony or a foal, but the image still pronounced itself as devilish. The woman still looked for the stranger¡¯s eyes, but she imagined the stranger only saw from two small holes bored into the osseous surface. Without her intuition, the old woman had but one way to confirm the stranger¡¯s notions; to ask them upright.


    The old woman asked, ¡°Why do you suddenly wish to cure him? When you threw so much disdain at the thought before? Why your change of heart?¡± The stranger¡¯s hand fell back to their side, and they stared silently at the woman. They pondered for a moment, then moved back and began clearing the lonely mattress of the clutter resting atop it. Silence hung in the air of the cabin for thoughtless seconds while the stranger deliberated on their words. They moved old books from the bed to sit atop the wooden floorboards, and they made sure the pelt that lined the top was clean of stray plants and bits. They then stood, looking down at the empty bed. To the woman¡¯s surprise, the stranger spoke with sincerity and perhaps a tinge of forlorn thought.


    ¡°Of all who come seeking aid, most turn away at the sight of me. It is fear that grips them, and they part without ever speaking a word. Of those who stay, only some come to think of compensation. And of those who don¡¯t, only two others have been like you. To insist that I uphold my practice, and to confront me of my ulterior motives. To me, that shows the depth of their desperation¡ªthat they must rely on an unspoken outsider. One who remains untrustworthy, but is also their remaining hope.¡± The stranger then turned and outstretched their hand to the woman once more, not saying another word. The woman looked at the looming figure hung like death beside the bedside, and she needn¡¯t a single word more. Although the woman could not see their eyes, she knew they held compassion, and she knew that she could trust the stranger with her child.


    The woman began taking short, careful paces toward the bedside, cautious of the littered floor and not losing her step. When she arrived, she made to take one last glance at the woolen bundle in her arms and to remember the face of her son in the wraps before passing him to the stranger. The stranger was sure to be delicate with the child, holding the bundle firmly yet gently in their hand. They first examined the child¡¯s face to notice any irregularity. They saw that it was as the woman had described¡ªan unwaking, perhaps dead child¡ªyet its color failed to retreat its plump cheeks. The stranger then pulled back the wool that wrapped the child¡¯s miniature body, noticing that its chest did not rise nor fall. They brought the child up to their ear and confirmed that it did not breathe. However, the stranger heard the faintest twang of rhythm from a beating heart. They held the child in front of their face once more before gazing at the empty pillow upon the bed and stooping over to rest the bundle atop it.


    Without standing or offering a glance at the old woman, the stranger addressed her. They asked, ¡°Is this truly your babe?¡±


    They didn¡¯t halt for her response, instead continuing their work and placing the herbs that they held under the child¡¯s nose. The woman stood silently for a moment before admitting, ¡°No. He is not truly mine.¡±


    The stranger moved their hand about the child, examining its hands and fingers, its bare belly, and even lifting its eyelids. The child¡¯s eyes were a hollow green color, resembling leaves just before their shift to autumn¡ªa slight brownish dull to an otherwise beautiful color. Its eyes were blank, staring straight upwards¡ªnot rolled back into the skull or glossed over by a lack of life. After their examination, the stranger leaned backward and sat upright. Still not drawing their attention away from the child, they asked the woman again, ¡°What is your relationship?¡±


    The old woman took short time to respond, speaking calmly and with sorrow. She said, ¡°We are both without family. My eldest died of disease naught a month ago, and his only daughter was sold off before our coming here. My other two fought bravely in the war, but sadly neither returned home.¡± The woman paused for a moment, composing herself before continuing. ¡°I found him four nights ago by a carriage up the river. It seemed to have gone awry and fell off the path quite far down. I saw no sign of horses, but there were three that I assume to be his family¡ªall bloodied and torn up. I was sure to check each of them, but the only one that remained warm was him. I found him smothered against his mother¡¯s breast, back to the ground. I took him home and he¡¯s remained the same since I found him¡ªin that state and unwaking.¡± She went silent, her face drooping even lower after finishing her thought.Stolen novel; please report.


    ¡°Have you given it a name?¡± the stranger asked, now looking towards the woman.


    The woman looked at the stranger, no longer distraught by their appearance. She said, ¡°I¡¯ve taken to calling him Ugo, but why must you know his name?¡±


    The stranger sat in silence for a moment, looking back to the child resting on the pillow. Thinking for a moment more, they grabbed the herbs resting under the child¡¯s nose and again leaned back to sit upright. The stranger started pinching and squeezing the plant in their hand, breaking it apart. The room suddenly filled with a strange aroma, one that stung the sinuses and enveloped the head with a cool sensation. The old woman noticed the smell and started to relax. Even the silver-eyed cat perked its head up from its resting place to whiff the air. ¡°This is an herb I have bred myself,¡± the stranger started. ¡°It is a remedy that weakens the mind and enlightens the spirit; it can be used to either waken someone from a slumber or set someone asleep who struggles to do so.¡±


    The stranger opened their hand, admiring the greenish paste that now stuck to their warped leather gloves. They braced themselves on one knee, then stood up, coming a few feet above the woman. They moved to the door frame to wipe the residue from their hand and began speaking as they did so. They said, ¡°The babe is cursed.¡±


    The old woman still stood by the bedside, her view had followed the travel of the stranger to the doorway. Inlaid on her leathery face was slight confusion as she asked, ¡°By a witch?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the stranger said, turning back into the household. ¡°Curses can be obtained in many of ways. If not applied by a witch or in any other way through ritual, curses may also come through birth.¡±


    ¡°Was his mother then cursed?¡±


    ¡°Most likely not,¡± the stranger continued. ¡°Some curses befall the unfortunate, and sadly the one attached to the babe is quite severe.¡±


    The woman looked back to the child, walking to be even closer to its side. She admired it, not seeing any sign of abnormality¡ªhorns or grotesque features or feathers or ragged skin. She wondered how the stranger could tell that the child had befallen a curse, but she had naught to ask. She chose to trust the stranger¡¯s conclusion, and instead wondered of the curse¡¯s severity. So, the woman asked, ¡°How so? Will he never wake again?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the stranger said, rubbing their glove with their opposite thumb, trying to extract the stain the plant had left. ¡°The babe has already died. However, its spirit sought to live and therefore refused to be expelled. The babe¡¯s body was not in such a mean of disrepair that the spirit could not re-enter, but in doing so, the babe¡¯s body has become a state of no longer living nor dead.¡± The stranger continued to walk back to the bedside, the woman stepping back to offer them space. ¡°The babe will eventually wake, but when it does so, it will never sleep again. It will live in constant agony, shunned by both the living and the dead, finding no true place to reside.¡± The stranger stopped again, staring down at the child for more than a moment. They then looked to the old woman and said, ¡°There is only one way I can save it from its despair, but it will cause you much grief.¡±


    The old woman stood in silence, looking to be lost in thought. She stared at the woolen bundle atop the pillow, realizing what the stranger had to do. She asked, ¡°You must kill him?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± the stranger replied. ¡°Before its body can become truly unkillable, I must halt the process.¡± The stranger looked to the woman. Her face was still and she kept to staring at the bundle atop the pillow. She did not look forlorn, but she neither looked satisfied. She thought that there must be another way, but she knew that if the stranger had said it, there must not. She stood in silence for more than a minute, before the stranger reminded her, ¡°If I am to do this, I mustn¡¯t wait. It may have little time before the curse has fully gripped it.¡±


    The woman let her thinking be drawn out no more. Although she wished to reason and argue, the looming thought of whether the stranger¡¯s words were true struck the back of her mind. If they were true, then her child would live in despair for eternity, much longer than her or any of her descendants would have. She thought that if the child¡¯s future was sure to be torment, then it would be better to cease the chance right here. So, the woman relented, and a single word parsed her barely-split lips. In a quiet and still whisper, the woman said, ¡°Okay.¡±


    The stranger nodded slightly and began to move for a knife in their bag. In their search, they said, ¡°If you wish to give any prayers, you may. I do not object to any god or any words you may have, whether they be silent or not.¡± The woman¡¯s shoulders dropped slightly as she let out a shallow breath. She closed her eyes but she did not pray. There was no god she thought to speak to, and there were no words she could offer to their name. Instead, she wallowed in her own thoughts and her own silent grief, wishing the child farewell. She heard the stranger¡¯s boots pass by her and she heard them shift their weight down to one knee. She heard the stranger offer up a silent whisper, then she heard a soft slice and silence.


    The old woman opened her eyes to behold the stranger holding a silver knife with intricate designs on its blade. The knife was the first thing she looked for because she dreaded to see the sight of her child. But when she witnessed no crimson sheen on its surface and the stranger¡¯s defeated gesture, she was inclined to look. The child had a long, seemingly deep slash across its neck, just beneath its chin. The sight would be gruesome, except for the lack of blood seeping from the wound.


    The woman was confused. Her inner feelings twisted between elated happiness and intense worry. She looked to the stranger, who was slumped back on the floor, beholding the knife in their hands. She hesitated to ask, but her question was answered when the stranger admitted, ¡°It is too late.¡±


    The woman looked down, her mind racing between thoughts. The room was in silence before the stranger stood once again and moved to return the knife to the table with the oil lamp. As they moved, the woman looked up and exclaimed, ¡°There must be another way!¡±


    The stranger kept their hand on the knife after setting it on the wooden surface. They stood and said, ¡°Down a path nary traveled, there is a way. It is not the route I wished to follow, but there is no other now.¡± The stranger hunched over the table, staring at the knife. ¡°The babe is Ugo?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± the woman responded.


    The stranger stood and faced the woman. They said, ¡°You must look at me,¡± and they began moving towards her. She made to take on the stranger¡¯s entire appearance, looking at nothing else. She saw the horse skull adorned atop their head and the long hair riddled with beads and other arrangements that came out its backside. She saw the stained overcoat the stranger wore fashioned with pelts and furs that lead to the warped leather gloves they wore over their hands. She saw the muddied stitched legs and large furred boots that carried the stranger and she was quick to notice the patchwork that covered them head-to-toe. The stranger continued, ¡°You are to forget everything about the babe. Its appearance, its name, and its memory. Everything.¡±


    The old woman stopped again. She stopped breathing and she was entirely still from the shock of what she had just heard. She moved her lips to no avail, as no words came out. Before she could muster up anything, the stranger continued ever forward. ¡°From now you mustn¡¯t look back at the babe, and when you leave you must forget everything you know about me. The babe and I must become enigmas to you or my future efforts will be for naught.¡±


    The woman finally found the words and managed to stammer out between the stranger¡¯s barrage, ¡°How am I supposed to forget everything about my child?¡±


    The stranger ceased relenting and fell into thought. Quickly, they devised an idea and asked, ¡°Did you have another name for the child? A consideration before the one you chose?¡±


    The woman thought for a moment, not lasting long, and said, ¡°No. His name just came to me.¡±


    ¡°Then think of another. Say it aloud when you decide.¡±


    She deliberated for a long while, thinking of a name that would fit the child. Finally, she told the stranger, ¡°Liam.¡±


    ¡°Names hold power,¡± the stranger said. ¡°Therefore, giving something a name separate from the original derives different thought. If you are to forget its true name, you will have forgotten its true self. You must forget. If you are to remember, know of the babe Liam. The babe with brightly colored eyes of the sky. Of pale skin wrapped in a cotton blanket. A babe not of your own, but left on your doorstep to care for.¡± The stranger bent down to look the woman directly in her eyes. They said, ¡°Your child died here. In a place unbeknownst to you¡ªas if it never existed. Now go. Leave your memories behind and forget about everything you¡¯ve seen or heard. Do not tarry here and do not look behind you.¡±


    With their final word, the stranger ushered the woman out of their cottage. They watched her hobble away, shivering from the cold¡ªuntil she left their vision. They remained there for a while longer, remembering the woman¡¯s every detail. Her colorless hair and ragged skin. Her shifting face and her fearful eyes. Her sideways stance and her crooked stride. Her bony fingers and her missing teeth. Her thin rags amongst the post-autumn cold. Her care for a child that was not truly hers. Then, they forgot about the woman.

 The Precipice of Fate

    The stranger stood in their door-frame, embracing the chill of the post-autumn breeze. They had cleared their mind, having removed the woman¡¯s visage from their memory. However unknowing they were of their visitor, the stranger still knew of the duty they now held. They turned and moved to behold the form of the seemingly lifeless child atop their pillow, wrapped in a thick woolen bundle. They rested their finger near the child¡¯s open palm, but it did not move to grasp it. A great sense of loss drew over the stranger, their remorse for the child being an unfound feeling for quite some time. Although the feeling threatened to flood over, the stranger held steadfast, bound by their new duty to the child and the estranged visitor.


    They waited, contemplative over the child¡¯s rest for many minutes. They paced throughout the room, back and between the open door-frame through which the chilling breeze crept in. The outside was witness to a strange occurrence as a crystalline haze befell the open basin, entirely shrouding view further past the edge of the glassy lake. It was mysterious in its essence, chasing to envelop everything within its smoky surface, although it looked to stray from the touch of any mortal. The air curiously crept toward the abode of the stranger, perhaps wonderful of their process. Within the cabin at which the mist prodded, the stranger rummaged through the grand sack of animal parts that still laid on the wooden floorboards.


    They fished out the beast¡¯s skull¡ªstill discolored by the presence of gore, its stench rotten by the same substance. They brought the mass outside into the haze, sure to carry it by the protruding horns from its top. The stranger found a small basin beside the logged wall, the water just a few days closer to freezing. They also sought a brush staked through with tiny metal hooks that sat on the basin¡¯s edge. Its design was reminiscent of a terrible weapon, something that could shred the skin with a forceful pull. However, the stranger used the brush methodically along the bony surface of the skull¡ªembedding the hooks into the missed remains of flesh that could not be removed by the long blade of a knife. They continued slowly and carefully, hopeful to not needlessly damage its surface. Soon, the water became muddled by blood and stray floating parts, but the stranger continued¡ªtheir bare hands becoming numb in the nipping water of the basin.


    After they had finished, the stranger brought the skull up to their face and looked through the sockets where the beast saw. They turned it in their hands over and over again, insistent to find any remaining residue or unholy traces. Content with their results, the stranger searched through their dulling garden for a few choice herbs. They had not an idea of what they wished to create, but they found a large assortment of cooling green plants nonetheless and ground them up with a quite shabby mortar and pestle. The stranger then brought the amalgam up in their hands and smothered the snowy surface of the skull, coating it with a more pleasant stench and dying it with more earthy tones.


    The stranger moved about hurriedly into their cabin, resting the newly polished adornment atop the wooden table where the silver-eyed cat laid. They shuffled about, pulling assortments of plants from their twisted coils throughout the rafters and laying them ornately along the floor. The stranger sat down within the ring of plants, legs curled and back hunched over, viewing a strange book¡ªits cover thick and leathery and warped, similar to the stranger¡¯s gloves. They peered over the book¡¯s contents, their eyes flicking across the flimsy, rigid pages¡ªthe words washing over the forefront of the stranger¡¯s memory. They began making with movements that a person would not normally inhibit. It was as if the stranger¡¯s muscles pulled about their limbs with an otherworldly force. The stranger¡¯s eyes did not peer away from the pages as their arms twisted about behind them, searching for a bristled plant. The work was delivered with utmost speed and precision¡ªan ungodly order and process came to create something that could nearly be considered lifelike. The plants¡¯ tendrils pulled and hated each other. It was as if every one was trying to pry itself free of its new body. However, when the stranger then took the mass to a plunge in a large bowl, the greeneries settled and relaxed.


    The stranger continued to rush about, walking in and between the door-frame countless times. Once, they went in with nothing, then returned revealing a small knife with a short blade. They came into the woods and searched for something proficient of their vision, then returned to their solitude once more. Again, they emerged to bathe something within the blood-washed basin, then again returned. As the time passed, the brilliant gray-glistening moon grew into the night sky, its council of stars staring down at the world below them, illuminating it with their dark light. The moon could be described as concurrent with a coin¡ªsilvered in appearance and round on all edges¡ªas also said with the silvered eyes of the cat. This silver-eyed cat was no longer within the stranger¡¯s cottage, as it had emerged long ago and was now prowling in the night.


    As the moon fell over its crest, the stranger emerged from their cabin a final time, adorned in the skull they had prepared, holding a woolen bundle in one arm and a large bowl in the next. With their step, they parted the curious specters that swarmed them in the night¡ªthe ghastly white visage parting for none but themselves. They walked towards the edge of the glassy lake, even more carefully and cautiously as they had ever done before. At their arrival, they viewed their reflection within its surface. Their image showed of them and the child¡ªunbroken upon the still surface of the water. The stranger was mesmerized for a moment, completely taken in by the spectacle of the body; of the ever-shifting surface created by the swaying specters that flanked their every side.


    Coming to, the stranger kneeled upon the wet ground and laid both their prizes before them. The earth gave to their weight¡ªthe grass parting for their presence, and the mud sinking to comfort them; however, the lake remained still and simply peered at the stranger. The stranger, who then unwrapped the child from its woolen bundle, revealing its truest form to the night air and the specters, drank from the bowl where the beating vines slept. Their presence was disturbed, and they started violently twisting once more, again trying to pry themselves free of one another. One by one, the vines snapped and lashed at the edges of the large bowl, gripping its rim, hoping to pry themselves free from each other¡¯s torturous touch. As the plants broke away, they began to shrivel. Death claimed every last one of them for their insolence and their fear. The entire time, the stranger watched. Waiting. Hopeful of their demise.


    As the final tendrils spent, the stranger pulled them from the bowl, their bloodied forms hanging limply in the stranger¡¯s hands. The stranger moved to hover the bodies over the surface of the pure, glassy lake¡ªthen dropped them in. The tendrils fell and lashed away at the perfect reflection of the stranger. The water refused their embrace and spittled as they made contact with its skin. Its body shuddered and rippled, fearful of the tendrils¡¯ touch. Then, the stranger brought the large bowl over the shrieking surface of the lake and gouged a wound into its skin. They brought the bowl above their head and bathed themselves in its stolen blood.


    The water was a strangling cold. Its feeling clung to every part of the stranger and its body weighed down on them. Their breathing deepened and became ragged and their whole body became still. The specters in the night delighted at the stranger¡¯s taste and hugged them even closer. The stranger drowned in the cold and in the mist, breathing even more slowly and heavily¡ªuntil they breathed no more. But the stranger did not slump over like the dead. They merely closed their eyes and fled the grasp of their body. The weight of the water was now weightless. The choking of the specters was now a light embrace. And the chill of the post-autumn breeze was now an insurmountable warmth. The stranger could see everything around them. They could hear every bristle of grass as it swayed in the wind, and they could hear the very crystallization of the beginning drizzle as it turned into fractals of snowflakes.


    On the distance of the lake were now dozens of bright, ghastly green lights¡ªeach swaying differently within the mists. The stranger sat for a moment and embraced everything that was new. After a while, the stranger spoke. They addressed the very air before them and called out, ¡°I beseech the humble spirits and selfishly ask of a favor. I call the one whose mantle I wear upon my crown and offer my soul so that we may speak.¡±


    Silence permeated the stranger¡¯s benign surroundings, bringing with it potential chaos that could shake their very mind. With this feeling, the stranger did not relent and began to speak again. They asked, ¡°Is thou malignant toward my being? Toward my needless action and my beating of thy life?¡±


    No.


    ¡°Then does thou view myself as abhorrent? As a creature pungent of desire and ill-found justice?¡±


    No.


    ¡°Then does thou project upon me pity? As a worthless prior who cannot escape detention?¡±


    No.


    ¡°Then allow myself to view thy visage. Thy truest form which I cannot inhibit. I offer up to thou my soul, o¡¯ unadulterated spirit; the most antithetical of my being. And I express my utmost gratitude; and absorb thy every unrequited thought as toll for expressing my boundless greed, lust, and pride upon thou.¡±


    After the stranger finished speaking, they beheld the mist as it began to swirl around them. The specters spun themselves into thick white fibers and made the form of a glorious white stag. Its form was much larger than it had been in life, its body still towering over the stranger, but it looked down at a height nigh impossible if it were to be alive. Not only its legs, but its horns grew to be much longer than the ones the stranger wore atop their head¡ªbranching even further and twisting in many more ways. The stag¡¯s eyes glowed a ghastly green¡ªthe same as the lights cascading the horizon of the lake¡ªand they beheld the stranger the same way the stranger beheld them.


    After the apparition had formed, the stranger spoke once again. They were not in awe, nor were they surprised at its beauty, but they bowed deeply when asking of it. They said, ¡°I seek guidance to Nemiza¡¯s spindle. I beseech thee humble spirit, and ask thou to be my guide.¡±


    The stag looked at the stranger for another fleeting moment, seemingly considering the stranger¡¯s request. It looked down upon their kneeling, bowing state and thought them worthy to travel beside it. The stag bowed its head in return to the stranger¡¯s request, and as it looked back up, the stranger addressed the stag again. They said, ¡°I wish to bring this babe¡ªhowever, it cannot speak the rights. I beseech thee humble spirit once more, may thou allow this lost soul to speak them in its place?¡±


    The stag bowed its head once more, this time with no hesitation or further thought. The stranger nodded in thanks before picking the bare child up in their hands and again addressing the very air before them.


    ¡°I beseech the humble spirits and selfishly ask of a favor,¡± the stranger said. ¡°In my hands, I hold a babe who shall invade your sacred resting places. It may be impudent of me to speak the rites in its place, but I call to any who hold the utmost kindness in their soul and who shall allow themselves to become this babe¡¯s guardian. Any who shall selflessly give themselves¡ªwho have already been torn from the soles of life¡ªto stake their very essence into the protection of this babe.¡±


    Minutes passed to no avail, yet the stranger waited. They did not raise their head for any passing second as they allowed their request to flow through the wisps of the specters that surrounded them. Eventually, there was movement. Again the specters spun themselves into the white silk that began another figure. This time, however, instead of the glorious form of a winter stag, a hulking figure began to pierce the veil that enclosed the stranger. First spun its massive tread; long, powerful claws protruded from their stumps and planted themselves firmly on the ground, dragging behind its form as it lumbered forward. After, weaved the massive form of its body. The strings cut at still, sharp edges to express the thickness and ruggedness of the creature¡¯s hide. Then came its face¡ªits muscular neck which bound it together was wider than a large tree trunk, and the head which it held was of a much similar comparison. Reaching out as if to swallow the stranger, the specters bound themselves together into the very features that defined a gladiator. A long blemish ran up from its lip to the base of its snout, and the monster¡¯s teeth could be seen through the gaps¡ªeach could be mistaken for the pointed edge of a dagger. And in its true form, the monster was menacing. Standing not as tall as the winter stag, yet protruding a menace that could hold no match.


    The stranger beheld the monster much longer than they had the stag. They had not been expecting a visitor of this grandeur, especially one of unprovoked initiative. The massive monster continued to limber forward toward the stranger before stopping a hands length away from the child¡¯s resting face. Its nose twitched and lips stretched out, presenting its impressive maw. Unsatisfied, it then looked toward the stranger, somewhat expectant of them. For a moment, the stranger had naught an idea of what the monster implied; but in a lapse of realization, they revealed a rather crude wooden mask they had been keeping inside their clothing. They had carved it just earlier out of stray wooden debris found in the forest. They had worked hastily and the final result was nothing of what they had wished to achieve. While the edges were soft, the surface was still very rugged and crude. The only thing that could separate it from a rounded plank would be the slight embellishes where the eyes would peer from.


    The stranger rested the mask over the child¡¯s eyes, protecting it from the intrusion of the outside specters. The monster examined the child once more, and contempt with their actions, turned its back toward the stranger. The stranger bowed their head again in thanks before speaking¡ªseemingly addressing the air before them rather than the monster. They said, ¡°Then, as by the rites of bondage, thou, o¡¯ unadulterated spirit, shall receive my soul on behalf of this babe to protect its very essence¡ªuntil we shall part and thy duties be complete.¡± With this final incantation, the winter stag turned its ghastly green eyes away from the stranger and sought off toward their destination.


    The stag walked forward with an expressed pride and grace over the surface of the now still glassy lake. The monster followed behind its footsteps, its lumbering stride not causing any such disturbance across the water. Behind the monster came the stranger. They stepped across the liquid as if it were the earth. However, unlike the stride of the spirits, the touch of the stranger¡¯s soles caused an unpleasant uproar across the lake¡¯s surface. With every step, the water rippled; and as each ripple ended the body splintered and hardened. The lake rejected the stranger¡¯s arrogance upon its skin, and now before each step could brave its touch, the water formed a sheet of ice for the stranger to walk upon. The grandiose forms of the stag and the monster led the way, gliding peacefully across the lake while the stranger followed in their wake, splintering and killing the water with every forward motion.


    Although they were together, the spirits didn¡¯t seem to converse. It was not as if they disliked each other, or if they were even capable of communication, but they looked to stay at a stretch. They would not regularly trounce together, but as an oddity, their duty bound them to each other¡¯s presence. Similarly, as the group neared the end of the lake, the ghastly green wisps that were on the horizon had now fled to the opposite. They all stayed far away from each other¡ªas if each one shared its own magnetic force.


    The stranger saw the looming trees beyond the edge of the bloody lake, their height imposing their disposition as an obstacle. Civilization had not clawed its way any further than the lake¡¯s edge, and the trees stood watching as sentinels protecting their back from the prying eyes of mortals. And as their duty called, when the great winter stag approached, the trees slinked away from its path, their tendrils prying at the very ground around them to vacate themselves from the guide¡¯s mission. As they passed through the doors held open by the guardians and into the halls of their home, the stranger did not dare to pry their eyes away from the horizon in front of them, yet they could still feel the burning gazes from above. The pressure was similar to the weight of the cold they had felt before, and if they dared to look toward it, they knew they would succumb.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    No matter how far they looked ahead, the stranger could not see a valid destination, and they dared not look behind to witness how far they had traveled. They knew that as the forest opened before them, it also folded to close behind them and that the stalking specters flanked their back, waiting with wet tongues for the stranger¡¯s eyes to meet theirs. The stranger continued walking behind the stag and the monster for what may have seemed days, yet the silver platter had never passed a single pair of hands at the council¡¯s feast. They did not recall an image before them, yet suddenly, they had arrived. The forest opened to a great basin¡ªnear identical to where the glassy lake mourned, yet the land was different. The horizon curved downward on each side, looking to round off just before the treeline. And at the center of the basin protruded a massive, peculiar tower. Its every edge was inconceivable and invalid. Its very shape was something of the imagination that could not exist in the mortal world. And at its top conjoined hundreds of thousands of ghastly green threads that fractured the sky and concealed the moon and the stars, leaving only their light to illuminate the odd terrain.


    The stag continued its stride¡ªnot down the slope of the basin, but forward¡ªas the edges curved up to meet its tread. As they had been, the monster and the stranger followed all the way to the base of the tower. Up close, the structure looked to be a massive obelisk¡ªcovered in many different, indescribable letters and symbols; words and phrases that made up thoughts of hundreds. The obelisk was an entirely different sight up close than it was from a distance, as it swallowed up every vision and every light that befell it. As they came even closer to its entrance, the group became flanked on every side by strange dog-like creatures. They were well over the stranger¡¯s height as they stood bipedal on their canine legs. Their faces were neither of a canine nor a human, but somehow also resembled both. Their hands were human-like in shape, however dog-like in appearance, and also bird-like in structure. The creatures held nothing in these hands and wore nothing on their bodies. They were all identical, only with some minuscule blemishes¡ªas if they were all cut from the same cloth. They did not appear aggressive, yet as the group continued closer, their multitude continued to increase¡ªall until the stranger¡¯s footstep befell the precipice.


    At that moment, everything that was strange vanished. The creatures, the spirits¡ªthe guide and the guardian, the tower¡ªeverything. The stranger now stood not in an open basin, but a bowl. Its edges crawled up on all sides, and in its opening to the stars the stranger could see the magnificent convergence of the threads they beheld earlier. These threads all spun to a single point which stood at the center of the bowl, masked in a mortal¡¯s visage. The thing that stood before them was now the only thing that became strange. It was the only thing that was incomprehensible to the stranger. It stood looking like themselves, but they could feel its presence all around them.


    The stranger knelt on the floor that they felt was wet. That gave to their weight and gripped onto their form. The stranger closed their eyes and quickly opened them to behold the scene of the glassy lake before them. They felt the sensations of the cold and of the mist as they had before. But unlike the beginning, a figure stood before them. It watched the stranger with their eyes, and the stranger saw themselves watching. It smiled slyly at the stranger with their mouth, and the stranger felt themselves smiling. It spoke to the stranger with their voice, and the stranger heard themselves speaking. It said, ¡°Hello.¡± And the stranger said, ¡°Hello.¡±


    ¡°It is a rarity that someone visits me by their lonesome. I¡¯ve come to think my company is afeared. But if so, then why does a mortal like you seek my company. I am not your master. Then why have you come? To me of all the ones you could ask of.¡±


    The stranger looked down into their hands and saw the form of the seemingly lifeless child covered in a woolen bundle and sheltered by a crude wooden mask. They saw the child and they thought. They escaped the torture the being was trying to force them into, and they looked up to reveal its true form. Through the cracks of its mold they saw its true flesh¡ªthe infinite bundles of thread that converged themselves to the being. They saw its true eyes from where it looked and they saw its true mouth from where it smiled and spoke.


    ¡°You are brave,¡± Nemiza said. ¡°To have the resolve to look past yourself. You are truly an enigma.¡±


    It vanished from the stranger¡¯s vision as the scenery began to change once more. With a sudden feeling of breathlessness, the stranger had returned to the bowl atop the obelisk. Nemiza stood before them, now looking upon them with its true eyes, hiding nothing of itself from the stranger.


    ¡°Everyone has a reason for action. To come here,¡± Nemiza said, ¡°requires enough patience to trump reason. So I ask again mortal. Why come to my dominion? What action do you seek of me?¡±


    The stranger was still. For a moment they could not express anything into words; they could barely even think. But soon, their desire overcame their fear and shock, and the stranger spoke. They bowed their head and closed their eyes when asking of the deity, and they said with hesitation, ¡°I have traveled to your dominion to ask of a selfish request.¡±


    The stranger stopped, waiting for a response from the entity before them. Any word of acceptance or rejection before they continued their plea. Nemiza whispered a soft chuckle. He came toward the stranger until they were close enough to touch. He said, ¡°You are brave. To escape your fear. I will listen to your selfish request¡ªbut don¡¯t expect of me more than an answer. Because I may have you expelled if the words that parse your lips don¡¯t please me.¡±


    The stranger nodded and continued on, conscious of every word they spoke before the deity. They said, ¡°This babe has passed. I know not however long ago, but I do feel the weight of its soul residing in this vessel. It does not breathe, yet it does not pale in color and I have felt the rhythm of its beating heart. I know of its affliction, yet I have already failed to save it once. So I ask of you, Great God of Life¡ªto parse this babe¡¯s soul from its form and let it dream happily without the confines of this curse. Please, before it may never dream again.¡±


    Nemiza looked down upon the stranger¡¯s groveling form disappointedly. He said nothing in response, yet the stranger stood steadfast at the heel of the deity, refusing to collapse to his pressure. Nemiza looked up toward the web-like twines flittering and coiling about in the sky, observing each individual in tandem, taking in every minuscule moment of their dance. He softly sighed, looking down upon the stranger once more. And this time, he spoke.


    ¡°Not entirely unexpected of a visitor to ask something so foolish of me.¡± The stranger did not move, did not blink, and did not breathe in response to Nemiza¡¯s words. They remained still on the hard, benign ground of the plateau, insisting that the deity had more to say. Nemiza continued, ¡°The spools of life aren¡¯t entirely to my whim to manipulate. They are as free so much as you are not. I cannot decide when the twine may spin itself; however, I can observe its dance, then decide when it is no longer beautiful and cut it. I can take the stray strand and sew it to the beginning of another, or I can let it fly freely¡ªnever to be observed by me again. Stop pleading. You have already wasted your time coming here. But I shall delight you in your downfall¡ªonly if you reveal to me the just form you arrived in.¡±


    The stranger slowly raised their head and stood before the grotesque form of the deity. Nemiza¡¯s eyes brightened and his smile irked an even greater sly twist.


    ¡°The ignorant man may mistake foolishness for bravery; but what I see in you is truly a virtue.¡± Nemiza moved ever closer to the stranger, putting his face a mere breath¡¯s away from the skull adorned atop the stranger¡¯s head. He looked for the stranger¡¯s eyes which were shrouded by the shadows of his mask¡ªbut the stranger did not flee to match his glare. Nemiza chuckled once again at the stranger¡¯s new poise and rewarded them with a speech.


    ¡°When a twine is formed¡ªat the moment life is breathed into a vessel¡ªit is created in its entirety. It will flow til¡¯ the end of time less I snip it. And through the course of one¡¯s life, their twine will entangle itself with those of others; the ones most important holding on much more dearly than the ones of passerby. This too is decided as the string unravels itself. Some individuals are so prosperous indeed, that their string will snap from the sheer force of their future. Those who¡¯s don¡¯t tend to become the heroes and kings of legend: Alexander, Augustus, Titus, Solomon, Alaric, and even the newly bred Malcolm¡ªson of Kenneth. But among the weak, are the exceptionally rare. The Evergreens who don¡¯t abide by their future, and by miraculous willpower of the soul, manage to re-spin their thread, even if only by one strand. Thus, a babe who has already passed,¡± Nemiza said as he gestured a hand toward the woolen bundle, ¡°can be reborn by order of the soul.¡±


    ¡°If it is simply the soul re-spinning the thread,¡± the stranger asked, ¡°then couldn¡¯t you still snip it? To allow the soul eventual passage to its final resting place? After what you described as the beautiful dance has passed, you don¡¯t have that power over Evergreens?¡±


    ¡°You mock me, mortal. I¡¯m not one of the virtuous seers that can take kindly to slander. However, I cannot do anything. It is like you described,¡± Nemiza said, spreading his massive arms away from his contorted chest. The stranger could see the skin that looked somewhat like stitching. Somewhat like the deity had robbed the flesh of mortals to conceal whatever wrapped itself within. ¡°I cannot bring myself to snip the twine of an Evergreen. They stay forever beautiful. They remain perfect regardless of time¡¯s flow. Their potential is endless¡ªand that is what a god finds truly beautiful in a mortal.¡±


    ¡°So you say not that you cannot, but that you will not? You¡¯d go to shackle the soul and the mind to endless torment among the living. In a vessel that has already died, but can walk and speak through some evil power? Don¡¯t you reign over life so you can deliver its victims to death?¡±


    Nemiza smiled, bearing bestial fangs through his thin, contorted lips. He looked upon the stranger in anger and astonishment. He stooped down to level once again with the stranger¡¯s height, and with a waft of putrid air from his horrible maw, his words screamed their way out in a tight whisper. He said, ¡°You mortals, to us, are akin to mutts¡ªor horses. As you would see value in a great hound that could hunt or a massive steed that could run til¡¯ the day¡¯s end, we can see your use to us. And that is all you ever are and ever have been. We do not praise you of our own kindness, without our own worry. We are cautious¡ªmy kin. And so too is your master. If he were to hear of this child¡¯s potential, and know I were the one who snuffed it¡ªthen there would be discourse. And what I would least want is discourse with your master.¡±


    The stranger stared the god in its bulbous black eyes, unwavering from his presence. By the comparison he¡¯d just offered, the stranger realized that the one called Nemiza was not so tormenting as the one who¡¯d allowed them to call ¡®Master¡¯. The stranger became curious at the deity¡¯s banter¡ªit was something that those bound to life could not venture to catch drifts of. The stranger became arrogant and believed they could manipulate this profound Nemiza. So they asked, ¡°What is such potential that you can see in this babe? What godly lens do you inhibit that allows you to determine its fate and its loyalty to you?¡±


    Nemiza calmed. His expression changed from one of barbaric fury to one of bubbling hatred. He began to express his annoyance toward the stranger¡¯s persistence. Nevertheless, he responded to the stranger¡¯s intrigue. ¡°I can see everything. Every misdeed and every triumph. Every recess and every upcoming. Every collapse and every rejuvenation. But more simply, I can see the connections. The twines that decide to entangle themselves with the child¡¯s. Some are similar to yours, but I will say, they are much more countless. Perhaps, it may even have more potential than you. Truly, I believe it does. And your master would not want to pass on something so entertaining and powerful as a man with a greater future than yourself. I would even venture to say that you may no longer be needed, Briar.


    Underneath their mask, realization inlaid itself upon the stranger¡¯s face. The overwhelming horror and fear that they had not felt in centuries. They looked down at the unmoving bundle in disgust and silent rage, for it was a demon planted in their arms by cruel fate itself. And as he watched the downfall of the stranger, Nemiza laughed. Not a chuckle or a whisper, but maniacal laughter. It sounded like the chirping of a rabid dog, and the stranger now clearly saw the being standing before him. It was like the Drekavac wandering lost before the tower and he was their king. The stranger saw the fiendish face that was not representative of life, but of death. The cruel devil which stood before him, jaw unhinged and drooling, spitting curses from its foul bellows. The stranger quaked and their heart skipped. They sweat the cold heat of the outside and their breathing slowed. Their vision blackened on its edges, and through the dysphoria, they could hear the twisted shrieks come to words.


    Nemiza bellowed, ¡°Your punishment, as requested by your master to enact upon you if you are ever to be dissuaded from your purpose while beneath a god¡¯s presence! An order enacted upon us all to deliver swift justice upon your soul and upon your character! A cause to be defined by the judge of whom the servant disrespected and to whom they will now humbly repent!¡±


    The stranger¡¯s vision faded to black. They could feel nothing but cold. They were floating down an endless river, tied to the current like a crook to a rope. And as their mind flowed back to the anchor sat beside the glassy lake, they heard Nemiza¡¯s verdict. Through a soft drumming that resounded within their skull, Nemiza whispered, ¡°You are to raise the child in the visage of your master. You are to abide by his law and no other. And when it comes of age, you are to present the child before him¡ªlet the master decide the fate of the lowly servant. Your waltz is becoming clumsy, Evergreen.¡±


    The stranger drifted for eternity, feeling nothing but endless sorrow in their solitude. It was as if they were carried by that river along the entire coast of their life. Then they awoke. The glassy lake laid out in front of them, the large bowl remained tightly gripped in their hands held above their head¡ªthe same as the very instant they were enveloped in the cold blood. The woolen bundle rested at their knees in the wet earth, and behind it, standing on the surface of the lake¡¯s edge, was the monster. The mighty bear which had appeared before them and taken upon itself the child¡¯s protection. It stood, watching as the stranger began moving once again, placing the bowl on the ground beside them. It watched with its stern, hardened expression¡ªgleaming at the depths of the stranger¡¯s thoughts and emotion.


    ¡°You¡¯ve stayed,¡± the stranger said to the monster. They raised their head and met its curious gaze. ¡°Why?¡± they asked.


    All was silent as the trio sat under the judgment of the stars. The stranger waited from some sort of response from the monster, but to no avail. Moments passed, before finally, the stranger spoke again. ¡°What is your name?¡± the stranger asked.


    The monster was quiet. It made not a sound, but simply broke its gaze to watch the helpless form of the child. It motioned its massive head toward the child¡¯s form, then looked back toward the stranger.


    ¡°Ugo,¡± the stranger said. ¡°You are kin.¡±


    The monster nodded softly once more, awaiting the stranger¡¯s response.


    ¡°I presume you mean of your stay to become this child¡¯s guardian?¡±


    Again, the monster nodded. The stranger looked down, contemplative toward the woolen bundle. They gasped a sorrowful sigh and raised the bundle in their arms. They examined the crude wooden mask they had adorned the child with, regretful of their actions. Without looking away from the form of the child, the stranger addressed the monster and said, ¡°It seems our cursed souls have been bound on the precipice of fate.¡±


    The stranger looked up toward the monster, and it stared back, contempt. ¡°Then by my power, o¡¯ unadulterated spirit, may thou take residence within this child¡¯s soul in exchange for thy divine protection. Forevermore, until the inevitable passing of this child will thou be bound in servitude to its will, thou only purpose to service its life in place of the one thou dearly lost. And so I ask of thou, humble spirit, if thou truly wish to accept this burden, then thou may guide thyself toward its vessel, and may thou find hallow space within its heart.¡±


    At the final word of the stranger, the bear called Ugo drifted its way across the surface of the glassy lake and dispersed into the air, the reminisces of the spirit flowing freely around the form of the child. Eventually, all settled, and mysteriously the mask atop the child¡¯s face began to melt and distort. The eyes hollowed out and the wood folded to match the very contours of the child¡¯s sleeping face. When it stopped, it came to fully resemble the child¡¯s image. And from under its second face, the first of what the stranger heard was the sorrowful sobbing of the cursed child.


    ***


    On the dawn of the next day, the stranger awoke to the silent, yet squirming child. The wooden mask remained plastered to its hidden face, for if the stranger removed it, the child would start horridly shrieking. They moved about their cabin, finding a small pouch of stray silver coins atop their table where the oil lamp still burned through the light of the morning sun. They collected many books and papers, few hidden treasures dispersed throughout the home, and even fewer of the many skulls that lined its walls. They also took some hides and cured meats, rare, irreplaceable herbs and plants, and their three ornately cut knives and placed everything inside the sack earlier filled with the remains of the beast. These remains now rested buried in the forest along the lake¡¯s edge¡ªat least of what the stranger had not kept. After just an hour of toil, the stranger heaved the sack onto their shoulders, and in one hand the woolen bundle, the other grasping a long walking staff, the stranger left. Before their departure, they had placed the oil lamp on the wooden floorboards decorated with the leftover worthless plants. At their back, the cabin slowly lit ablaze, and any trace of the stranger¡¯s existence vanished with them and the child on that morning.