Subtitle: Command not Cultivate Part 2
I would like to once again thank J. for providing the initial inspiration for Part 1.
I would like to add thanks to the person who unknowingly inspired some of the events, and one of the characters in the first tale. You’re a big reason this tale spiraled into two parts! (If you’re reading this, you know who you are)
When I was younger, I would spend every free moment I could visiting Reaper’s Glade, a serene meadow hidden deep within the forest to the south of the castle. It was my favorite place to be, it was a place where time seemed to stand still; whether laying in the grass, walking through fields of wildflowers or resting beneath a tree with my journal, when I was there, I was home.
The best part of visiting Reaper’s Glade however was spending time with The Warden.
She had been the protector of these lands for ages and she took her charge incredibly seriously. She was the most powerful entity I’d ever met and yet there was one things I never understood. She rarely spoke, yet always listened so intently to me. I did not know if she was incredibly shy, burnt out from her duty or perhaps just lonely and genuinely liked hearing about my day?
Maybe it was a mix of all three. The few times she would speak she would lament being bound to protect these lands. She belonged to an order whose sole purpose was to prevent the invasion of an insidious miasma that corrupted anything it touched. She had been assigned to this glade and the surrounding forest as this ‘haze’ seemed very intent on seizing this space. She claimed that most in her order would travel “between worlds”, whatever that meant, hunting and eradicating pockets of infection before they could fester. However she and a few others of her order had been assigned to key locations like this one, ordered to guard their assign space indefinitely.
She told me she did not know the significance of this location, she only knew that before she started to preemptively chasing away those with darkness in their hearts the forest was nearly always on the brink of disaster. The flora and fauna could barely resist the noxious fumes permeating the soil, their lifeforce saved only by her prompt and efficient response to the contagion.
To keep adventures from entering and inviting darkness to follow, a long time ago she took on the guise of a malevolent spirit haunting the forest. She would dance between the shadows of the trees and whisper terrifying tales of ancient evils into the ears of anyone who would enter. Even when the pure of heart would enter she would whisper her ominous warnings, hoping when they reached their destination they may share the tale and scare others away. Her strategy was very efficient, and within just a few moons all in the kingdom stopped entering the forest.
Except for little eight year old me. I ignored the warnings of others and snuck there whenever I could! I loved hearing her stories! I would go to pick flowers or gather berries in the forest while she told her tales. Perhaps she did not tell me the same terrifying tales she told my elders, but she did tell me tales of ghosts, possession, dark forces tearing through reality to destroy our world from within. You know, scary, but exciting stories any eight year old would enjoy!
One day when I was in the forest gathering berries I was waiting for her to start telling me a tale, but she never did. The woods felt oddly quiet without her voice echoing in the trees, they almost felt… sad? As I became more aware of the aura of sadness surrounding me, I started to feel sad myself. I couldn’t explain why, but I was sad and I began to cry.
As the first of my tears dropped to the dense soil beneath my feet, a soft sobbing began to replace the silence in the trees. Wise little me suddenly knew why I was so sad, my friend was sad! Maybe instead of telling me a tale today, she needed to hear one of mine! I tried to follow the echoes to their source, trying to find where she actually was.
As the cries grew closer I saw a soft light beginning to break through the tree line ahead. I was certain the light was her, so I gathered my strength and started to run! As the light grew closer I realized it was daylight. It seemed there was a field on the other side of the trees, a field I had never seen before.
This was my first visit to Reaper’s Glade. I saw her laying down towards the center, clinging to the base of a maple tree lightly sobbing. Although the colors and smells surrounding me were incredibly inviting, I knew she needed me. Rushing to her side she I looked upon my strange friend for the first time.
She remained with her head firmly planted against the tree trunk, making it impossible to look upon her face. Both her arms were vigorously wrapped around the tree trunk, almost looking like she was trying to rip the tree out of the ground with her embrace, laying on the ground beside her was an ornate silver scythe that seemed to glimmer with moonlight.
She did not acknowledge my approach nor respond when I greeted her.
I sat beside her at the tree and told her that although I wasn’t as good a story teller as her or my dad, I would be happy to tell her about my day if it would make her feel better!
Her tears stopped and the ground around us began to glow a soft white light. She did not lift her head from the trunk but she did say softly, with a smile:
“I would love that”
The last time I saw the disgraced commander was three days ago when, despite our warnings, he foolishly marched alone into the forest surrounding Reaper’s Glade. Rowley led us around the forest to reach Aubreey and we completed our mission of clearing the demons and cleansing the land without him. We returned to the castle and while some simply forgot, most of us anxiously awaited news of the commander. And what had happened within the forest.
On the first day, the king ordered all of us to not speak of the commander or the forest until further order was given.
On the second day, the king ordered every available scout to locate the commander.
On the third day, the commander was decried a traitor to the crown and was to be arrested on sight should he ever return.
Within an hour of this decree, he returned, he was on his way before the king in irons and the king had ordered me present as a witness. That was the extent of my knowledge of affairs to this point.
Entering the court, I saw the commander was already shackled and kneeling before the throne.
“Ah, enter Lady Millesant” the king called to me warmly “Enter friend, please come and be seated beside the throne.”
I meekly made my way to the only empty chair in the room, fully aware all of the kings advisors, assistants, pageboys, hell even the jester, were staring at me coldly and judging my every movement. I hated court culture, I did everything I could to avoid it.
“Now,” he continued, his tone shifting to contempt as he turned his gaze to the prisoner before him “repeat what you just told me about this ‘reaper‘ you saw in the woods.”
My heart dropped at the word reaper. I had been very open with the king in the past about my experiences with the protector of the glade, her lessons to me, her warnings to me and this insinuation rocked me.
“Uh, I-” the once proud commander began to stutter, his body seemed to lock up and his eyes remained fixated on the ground, he shuddered as he spoke “P…. purple… c. c. cataclysm. Haze… Scythe…. Horns….” he went pale recalling the sight.
The king turned to me once more and simply yet sternly asked.
“Is it her?”
Unfortunately I was still stuck on the word haze, everything else that had been said had not really reached my consciousness. Haze. It was what she fought so hard to prevent, it was her sole duty to combat it, if this entity manifested from a cataclysm in the ground, the ground must have been heavily infected, if the ground had been heavily infected, she wasn’t fulfilling her duty, if she wasn’t fulfilling her duty…. What happened to her?
“Huntress! Answer me!” the king commanded, jolting me back to reality and prompting me to speak without another thought
“I couldn’t say without additional information. The scythe is a connection, but she never had horns and she fought the haze at every turn, why would she emerge from it? Did she say anything?”
“Only a high pitched screech according to the commander.” the king grimly replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose while sighing. “Lady Millesant, perhaps you will elaborate?”
“My liege?”
“You warned the commander ‘there must be harmony in the ranks, and he sowed only discord’ if he entered alone, how did this happen.” his locked gaze upon me and the tone of his voice told me he already knew the answer to his original inquiry, he wanted to make sure I did too.
Yet I did not. I couldn’t comprehend what could have happened, I couldn’t understand why she had seemingly taken on this form. I couldn’t understand why this fool of a warlord couldn’t stop and listen to others. I was so angry- Anger. Suddenly I understood. I turned to the former commander and inquired.
“What were your emotions and thoughts like when you first entered the forest? What energy did you bring to her space?”
“Angry” he softly muttered “I… Thought you were cowards… then… I…”
“I’ll leave at once” I advised the king “I do not know if I will be able to reach her in this state, but I will try. Do you still have the scroll?”
“Indeed, how long should I wait?”
“One day. If I’m not here by this time tomorrow, don’t send anyone, break the seal, the Wardens will need to come and clean up this mess.”
I reached the edge of the forest just before sunset. Unable to delay, to set up camp and wait for daybreak, I charged forward on the trail to Reapers Glade, grateful I knew the path so well. Or so I thought. Entering the forest I found the usual trails overgrown, the colorful blooms reflecting only a shimmering black aura, it was as if I had entered a labyrinth of scrying mirrors.
I tried to find my way by memory, but soon found myself lost, unable to recognize any of my surroundings. The sun now set, the trees blocking any moonlight. I was alone in the darkness.
I’ve never been one to be afraid of the dark, but being here, not sure where my friend was, or even what had happened to her. Not knowing if I’d ever see our glade again, not knowing if I would ever see my cottage again. I was terrified. My foot caught a root and I came crashing down on the forest floor.
Moments after impact, a soft growl reached my ears, I listened closer while laying on the ground, trying to hear the source, trying to sense their intent. Behind that snarl, that anger, I heard a whimper, I sensed pain, fear. It suddenly felt like I was eight years old again and with the purest of hearts I knew exactly what to do. I honed in on the source of the rumble, just like I’d honed in on the source of her sobs so long ago.
I became oriented to my surroundings almost immediately, I found the path, knowing the sound was coming from my friend at the maple tree, where she needed my help. Knowing where I was, knowing where I was going, I broke into a sprit. Every rock, every root, every rise, every fall, I could see every tree, hearing just her pain’s call.
Reaching the glade, I saw a dark dimly glowing figure wreathed in fog by the maple tree, I began to make my way to my friend, yet when I was a few meters from the tree her voice rose
“Small one you must leave, tell your kin to never enter these lands again, I can contain the infection, but I cannot control it.”
Right on queue an explosion of chaotic energy burst from her core, burning the air of the meadow and leaving a fresh cloud of smoke around her.
I did not advance further, but I stood my ground and attempted to get a better view of her dimly lit form through the smoke. She did indeed have horns, terrifyingly sharp twin spires piercing through her forehead and finding root within the trunk of the old maple. Her scythe was just out of her reach, on the ground in front of her, no longer shimmering in moonlight, but caked in a grimy dark hue. Did she put herself in this position? Her arms seemed happy to be wrapped around the maple, but her somber face spoke the truth, she was beaten, she was broken, she was barely holding on;
And she was scared. I pleaded with her
“Warden, I came to your side to heal your pain. I cannot leave until it is eased.”
Another blast of energy.
“I have rooted the infection to me; and I have rooted myself to our tree. I hope only to hold it until my master can arrive to save these lands. You cannot ease this pain small one.”
“Your master will be here tomorrow night! The king has the scroll you gave me, and he will break the seal tomorrow when I do not return to court.”
“Return and break the seal yourself small one, there is nothing you can do here, you do not need to suffer with me.”
“I am lost in these woods without your light Warden, I can’t return. I only found my way here following your pain, hoping to ease it.” I sighed lightly, the reality of the situation finally hitting me. “If there really is nothing I can do to ease your pain, since I can’t return… perhaps…. Perhaps I could tell you about some of the adventures I’ve gone on in the past few years?”
The caked on haze clouding her scythe’s blade began to clear, shimmering with a soft white light. The light spread down the snath and began to clear away some of the haze around the tree, moonlight began to return to the meadow and I could see a soft smile on her face once more as she gently said:
“I would love that, Mille… sant.”
Interested in learning more about the order referenced? Want to meet the master(for like two scenes)? Want to learn all about what the heck is going on in the background of this tale?
If I ever get around to finishing my first chapter book, you’ll get all that and more! I don’t really have any timeline for release as I lack the time/money to give it the treatment it needs/deserves right now, but in the meantime I plan to set some of my real life inspired tales in the universe to add some extra background lore (and get me in the mindset for the pending big edit).
As always if you have a tale, a moment or character you’d like to bring to life in my style reach out! Or check out the commissions page on my Ko-Fi page
Z's Grimoire 