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In the foggy forest of the crags near the mountains, within sight of the waterfall that feeds the mighty river flowing through the valley of Nibus, the giant raven Kurok swooped down from the misty overcast sky and landed in a small open glade with ageless grace.
A golden spirit slid off the raven’s back, cloven hooves clacking onto a ground of cracked rocks and patchy lichen. The spirit scanned the clearing—wary, cautious—with the practiced leer of someone expecting trouble.
Sparse as it was, the trees had already gone gray and pallid with the unmistakable—and loathsome—signs of encroaching decay.
Kurok was first to break the silence, “The others will be here soon,” he graveled, “but it has already spread since first sighting. Whatever is causing this, let us find it quickly.”
On the spirit’s face was a brooding gloom that matched the somber, foggy, broken forest all around them.
Kurok regarded him, “Poor Eo,” the raven pondered aloud, “A spirit—nay, a guardian —denied his rightful place in the land as king of all log-carvers.”
The spirit finally smiled past his gloominess.
“You see?” Kurok croaked, “Quite boring. There is much to do until the next one. Save the glory for another day.”
“You are correct as usual, master Kurok,” the spirit admitted.
The raven tilted his head to survey the dying shores across the river, “If only the Spirit Aspen agreed. How many seasons past Renewal is she now?”
His smile vanished, “That is for Mother to decide,” the spirit responded tersely.
Kurok clicked his beak, “Truly, if she wants more of this,” and swept his wing in a broad gesture to the rotting forest around them.
Eo made no effort to respond to a raven known for his quick retorts. Instead, he closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling out into a place once teeming with life.
A gray silence met his mind.
“There’s nothing. We will have to root it out the slow way. Go high and keep a lookout for the others. Make sure they get here safely.”
Kurok tilted his head at the spirit, “What did I just say about glory?”
“I will be careful,” said Eo, still looking outward into the foggy forest, “I promise.”
The raven clicked softly and brushed his beak against the spirit’s ears. “There is no need to prove yourself. She is proud of you no matter what.”
Surprised, Eo turned around.
But Kurok flew off, wind billowing around the spirit in his wake.
The guardian spirit of Nibus watched the raven ascend into the mist and circle overhead before soaring down the valley, along the river, and hopefully where the other spirits were soon to arrive.
Now alone, the spirit stood askance, a long slender blade of golden light taking shape in his right hand. Often, he was the first to respond to any threat to the valley, decay or otherwise. Kurok’s training saw him fit to do so. There was no doubt in his ability.
So why did he see the need to say that? Kurok was not one to lie.
***
The fog refused to dissipate and reveal the blessed sky.
Eo slowly and methodically combed through the perimeter of the clearing, his blade illuminating the way and chasing out the shadows. But the broken forest revealed no secrets of what lay hidden.
The distant roar of the hidden waterfall grew louder. The first sign of decay that they had received was not from the trees and plants going gray, but from the river itself turning foul and putrid.
Such a thing was unheard of, even in these days when the Spirit Aspen strained day and night against the slow tide of rot on the fringes of the valley.
But when the river that winds through all of Nibus suddenly went foul, all efforts were diverted to find and cleanse the problem.
But no sign of the cause could be found out here, so he made his way along the river, toward the waterfall that flowed from the mountains and through a sunless canyon.
As gravel crunched beneath his hooves, his mind began to wander.
For his entire life he understood his duty: To protect the land and all that grows. Though the Spirit Aspen loved all of her children dearly, himself included, he heard the unspoken responsibility behind her affection. To make use of the gifts that he had been granted as the guardian spirit of Nibus.
If he did enough to meet that responsibility, then he might feel worthy of both.
The stink of a river slowly turning to sludge clogged his nose as he entered the mouth of the canyon.
Within this canyon, despite being open to the sky, the steep cliff walls blocked all sunlight, leaving a jagged gash of rock and stone in perpetual shadow to mark the beginning of the river that nourishes all of Nibus.
Many little caves dotted the cliff walls. Many had been quickly and wisely abandoned by their inhabitants. But some had lingered too long, believing themselves out of reach, and paid the ultimate price.
The walls echoed with the sound of hooves clicking on rock and crunching over gravel. The growing roar of the waterfall drowned out all other sounds.
A faint sound stood out from the growing din.
Ears twitching and swiveling, the spirit halted and turned to face the opening of an especially large cave looming within the rock.
From the cave came a low wheezing and rattling sound, as though something struggled to breathe.
False night bloomed into soft day from a brilliant golden orb coalescing in his free hand, bathing the surrounding canyon walls.
Yet the cave itself remained dark.
With a casual heft, he tossed the orb into the cave.
The orb clattered and rolled across the rocky ground, swiftly illuminating the cave’s interior and revealing its occupant.
Sprawled within the cave was a mangled feathery mass of deep purples and soft whites. Two massive tangled wings bent around its body at unnatural angles. Large talons lay limp and half-buried beneath tufts of ragged down.
The fiery, sluggish, half-lidded eye of a giant owl laying on its side glared at the intruder.
Equal parts revulsion and fascination swept through the spirit at the sight. Never before had he seen or heard tales of a bird such as this. It was even larger than Kurok.
The massive bird’s sharp curved beak opened and closed slightly, drawing in a slow shallow rattling breath followed by a gurgling exhale. A flow of purple-green discharge dribbled out of its mouth and pooled over the cave floor.
It seems the source has been found at last.
The giant owl spasmed and choked, coughing up congealed clumps suspended in foul purple-green fluid.
Sorrow wrenched his heart. Such an elegant animal stripped of its dignity and reduced to senseless suffering. How it was still alive was beyond him. There was only one thing left to do now.
He closed his eyes and soon felt the golden orb within the cave, a small point of light beside the faint owl.
Maintaining concentration, he slowly raised his hand until that tiny point of light both before him and within his mind ‘rested’ in his palm. He heard a scrape against rock as it floated up from the cave floor.
Of all the spirits of Nibus who could sense the world around them, some had the gift of reaching out with their minds. And of them, only a precious few had ever learned not only to reach out…
…but also touch.
It had taken him many seasons to get it right.
With a gentle push of his hand, the orb floated over and touched the owl.
Purple feathery plumage shriveled and crackled; golden flames spread out from the orb’s touch and rapidly engulfed the owl. The fiery orange eye held fixed upon Eo until it too was consumed by the cleansing flame.
A pile of ash was all that remained of the creature.
With a practiced flick of thought, the orb dissipated alongside it. The cave fell empty and dark once again.
With only his blade to light the way once more, he turned to depart and deliver the news to his siblings and to Kurok. Perhaps he will embellish a few details. Some of them will be most pleased to hear he had spared them the trouble of dealing with a particularly nasty beast, and yet some will scowl at him for taking away all of their fun.
He smiled at the thought, then slipped on something slick.
Raising the bright blade overhead, he saw that, while the pool of fluid dribbling from the owl had been cleansed along with it, the flames hadn’t touched the trickle of discharge running out of the cave.
This didn’t seem out of place, for what else were fluids to do? Yet, as he inspected more closely, he beheld the telltale smears and scattered stains of something that had slithered, or crawled, its way out of the cave…
His sight followed the trail to its end.
…and into the river.
He fell still, trepidation slowly growing in him. Without closing his eyes, he reached out with his mind.
The familiar flow of the river met his mind, paired with the cloying decay contaminating it. But he also sensed something beneath the surface. Something foul squirming before his mind. A presence that made his fur stand on end.
And watched him in turn.
Before he could react, the water erupted in a frenzy of movement. A black vine-like tendril shot out from the water and coiled around the spirit’s neck.
Alarmed, the spirit choked and gagged from the unyielding grip. He struggled desperately to pull away, but his hooves scraped over rock and gravel as the tendril dragged him toward the river.
Cold fetid water now splashed against his hooves and legs. A black and purple-green mass of coiling tendrils and vague limb-like appendages emerged from the depths before him.
In the center of this mass, a wide maw filled with jagged teeth parted itself to receive its hapless victim.
A blade of brilliant golden light swished through the air and severed the tendril wrapped around the spirit’s neck.
The creature howled an ear-splitting squeal and thrashed in the water.
Eo stumbled back, gasping and coughing for air, just barely managing to stay on his hooves.
With a violent splash spraying water everywhere, the thrashing mass of tendrils and teeth crashed into the water and disappeared beneath the surface once more.
Eo scrambled backwards from the river, blade held before him. It shook in his trembling grip.
Save for the river and the waterfall, all was silent and still.
Eo lashed at himself. Stupid! Idiot! Kurok would have rightfully pecked his eyes out and forbade Neb from healing them if his mentor had seen him make such an obvious and careless mistake as this.
But before he could dwell on it for long, the water erupted once more as the entire mass of tendrils, limbs, and teeth lurched out of the water and onto the riverbank.
Eo backed away, blade held at the ready, and assessed the threat before him. It was long, emaciated, and roughly half Kurok’s size, if smaller, but given his introduction to its whiplike speed and vicelike strength, underestimating it was a mistake he will not make again.
Its appendages squirmed and flopped as it shambled upright and oriented itself toward the spirit, jagged teeth parting in a gurgling snarl. Several tendrils from its back whipped about, cracking through the air with deadly force.
It crawled toward him.
Eo considered his options. His blade will do him little good if it gets close again. So he mustered his strength and summoned another orb in his free hand.
Golden radiance poured into the chasm. The beast squealed and recoiled before the burning Light.
So it wasn’t impervious. A good sign, he mused. He poured himself into the orb until its brilliance bleached the stones and the now-writhing creature.
But this turning of the tide was short lived. From the thrashing mass, a tendril shot out faster than a blink and cracked into his outstretched hand.
Eo cried out from the white-hot pain lancing down his arm. Blade and orb clattered to the ground, both dimming to a minimal glow.
Another whip shot out from the creature and struck the orb. It sailed into the river with a sizzling plonk. The chasm plunged into darkness.
Hunched over his broken hand, his face flushed and contorted, Eo understood now that this was no time for glory.
The guardian spirit of Nibus spun around and bolted down the path leading out of the canyon.
The mass of tendrils and teeth lurched after him.
His breath came in pained gasps as he sprinted out of the dark canyon into the light of day.
Eo had dealt with all manner of warped and foul creatures, their bodies inextricably shifted and distorted by Decay, but whatever this was, it was new. Help was desperately needed now.
With his good hand, he summoned an orb and threw it into the sky with all his strength. It sailed high before exploding into a dazzling array of colors and sparks.
Hurry.
Now back in the rocky clearing once more, he spun around, a new blade coalescing in his good hand.
But instead of the creature close behind, all he saw was fog and forest.
The light of his blade wavered slightly. All of his exertions so far, and his injury, have left him vulnerable and his reserves low. He must be careful.
The spirit forced his breath into a slower rhythm. Something resembling calm took a tenuous hold over his shaking frame. Panic will do him no good here.
A scraping scuffle echoed to the left.
He spun to face it, expecting a mass of tendrils flying toward his face, but saw only more fog and forest.
Another scuffle behind.
He spun again, more fog.
To his credit, he did not panic or waver. But an unnerving thought crawled into his mind.
Was it… toying with him?
His question was answered by something snapping around his leg from behind and yanking him off his hooves. The spirit fell flat on his face.
More tendrils wrapped around him, constricting his arms and blade against his sides.
He wrested himself around to see the creature lumbering toward him.
It had fooled him. So easily, too.
Eo felt himself pulled over the rocky ground toward the creature, its maw opening wide once more.
The struggling spirit’s stomach churned from the foul sickening odor wafting from the beast’s mouth, which nearly touched his hooves now as it drew him in. Try as he might, he could not think of a way out of this.
But despite the imminent demise before him, his mind drifted elsewhere. Had he done well for Nibus? For those who needed him? Was it enough to feel proud of what he’d accomplished? To earn what he’d been given?
As if in answer, a massive black feathery shape descended from the mist above and slammed into the beast.
“Kurok!” Eo cried.
The raven’s sharp talons tore into the creature, which lurched away from the spirit with a deafening howl. Several tendrils released to grasp madly at its new assailant.
Needing no further cue, Eo swept his now-free blade up through the creature, taking care to avoid his mentor, and shearing it apart lengthwise in two.
The mass of tendrils fell apart. The larger half, half-shredded now by Kurok’s talons, fell still.
The smaller half, however, leapt at the raven and wrapped around his lower body.
Kurok squawked and flapped, ascending into the air, trying to grab at it to no avail.
Eo sprang to his hooves and bounded to his friend’s aid. He leapt high, blade held overhead, ready to slice away the thing before it could do any harm.
A large vine-like tendril swung from below and batted him away.
Stunned and surprised, Eo lost his grip, both spirit and blade sailing backward through the air and into the forest.
To his credit, Kurok’s training took over, and he tucked his broken hand close to his chest and rolled over the rocky ground.
And slammed into a fallen tree trunk.
Pain exploded through the spirit’s head. Stars swam through his blurry dazed vision.
The luminescent blade clattered to the ground some distance to his left.
From between the trees came the torn mass, lighter and smaller now, bolting toward him with alarming speed.
Eo paled. He was too weak now to summon another blade. He had only one option left.
Reaching out with his mind, he felt the familiar brilliant needle of his favored weapon, along with the dark shape of the rapidly-approaching creature.
Mouth outstretched, it leapt into the air toward its prey.
With a desperate sweep of his hand, the luminescent blade zipped through the air and sliced through the creature, severing the maw from the rest of its body, and prompting the spirit to jump out of the way.
The creature flew past and collided into the fallen log, tendrils and limbs splaying over the ground and falling still.
Eo fell against the fallen log and struggled for breath.
Between gasps, he shouted, “Kurok!”
But heard only the same silence as when they had first arrived.
The spirit pulled himself upright and limped through the foggy dead woods.
Rounding a large mossy boulder revealed the back of Kurok standing over the shredded, shriveling remains of the creature on the ground before him.
A relieved exhale escaped the spirit, who limped over to meet him. Despite what he knew will be a long session of choice words from the raven in his near future, at least—
Kurok spasmed, shuddered, and gurgled.
—Eo froze.
The raven slowly turned around, a vacant dazed look in his eyes, and stepped forward.
Dawning realization crept over the spirit. Something was wrong. He thought back to the owl. Of the trail of slime dribbling from its mouth. Of the thing that had left its host…
His mouth went dry.
…And found another.
Despite the growing horror on his face, the spirit’s mind raced: He had recovered a little. He could summon his blade once more. He could seriously maim the raven. He might find some satisfaction in that…
Calm realization settled over the spirit.
…But he had a responsibility to Nibus, to those who were counting on him—an orb coalesced in his hand—even if he had failed himself.
With every last ounce of his strength, he threw his final orb into the sky. It sailed high above the trees and exploded in a shower of sparks and noise, but in a way he knew his siblings will understand:
Stay away. Do not approach.
As the beak and talons of his dear friend and mentor descended upon the spirit, he finally understood why Kurok was right. Even in this moment of utter helplessness, there was something he can always find comfort in. Something he had denied himself all this time. Something he never needed to earn in the first place.
That she was proud of him.
No matter what.