Eager to make himself well, Seelios focused on the stone in his hand. His mind connected to the artifact with ease and tapped into the stored mana like a water spicket. His draw from the stone was slow and cautious, letting the warm energy crawl up his arm like a gentle caress. A painful, yet pleasurable, buzz spread through his body as the broken bones in his chest joined back together. The very fibers felt like they were reattaching and settling back into place. Fresh wounds turned to scabs that flaked off as if they’d been there for weeks.
He stood up, glad to move without tormenting his body. He took note that he would need to find a safer way to use the teleportation totem as he pocketed the two runic artifacts.
A rustling noise from the nearby brush made Seelios jump. He crouched behind a tree and strained his ears to the silence of the forest. The snap of a twig echoed through the woods. He slowly stood and scanned the shadows. A familiar pair of ears appeared, followed by a snort he’d heard more times than he could count.
“Acorn!” Seelios shouted.
The horse whipped its head in his direction and looked at him with a cautious eye. Her muscles twitched, as if prepping to take off at a moment’s notice.
Seelios approached the horse with steps so light he could’ve been walking on a cloud. “Easy, girl. It’s just me.”
He reached out to touch the brown fur of her nose. She jerked her head away, sending Seelios’s heart racing, but she remained standing where she was. He walked beside her and brushed her neck with his hand. Acorn craned around and eyed him for a moment, then lowered her head to chew on a pink flower.
Seelios noticed a familiar leather flask hanging off the side of the saddle. He picked it up and turned it over in his hand. He lifted his eyes and looked around the trees.
“Garrick?” Seelios called out to the woods. Nothing but the rustling of leaves and a peaceful silence sat in place of a reply.
He slipped his foot into one of the stirrups and swung his other leg over the saddle.
Seelios leaned down and patted Acorn’s neck. “You had Garrick with you, didn’t you? Can you take me to him?”
Acorn lifted her head and turned to eye Seelios again. There had always been an unspoken bond between him and the horse. He could sense the hesitancy, the fear even. Seelios could tell something was wrong, but if Garrick was in trouble he had to go to him.
Seelios sat up straight in the saddle and grabbed the reins. “Come on, girl.”
It wasn’t long before Seelios heard the rushing water of the Brascella River. It made perfect sense for Garrick to follow the river. It was one of the few guides that would lead to Paloise, plus it served as a source of water and food.
The trees began to thin, and soft sounds of the river had become a churning roar of rapids. Acorn tossed her head and stopped in her tracks, refusing to go any farther. Seelios felt her tense, and she began backing up. Her head turned to the side as if to go back, but Seelios pulled the reins to turn her forward again.
“What is it, girl?” Seelios whispered down to Acorn.
He slowly sat back up in his saddle and looked ahead. He had a feeling something horrible awaited him, but he had to press on.
Seelios slid off the saddle and stroked Acorn’s mane with his hand. “I won’t make you go. But please, don’t leave me.” He looked deep into the horse’s eye. Garrick would’ve said she’s just a dumb animal, but to Seelios she was the smartest horse in the land. Acorn nuzzled Seelios’s hand, then lowered herself to the ground, folding her legs underneath.
Seelios took a moment to collect himself and prepare for whatever would greet him. He emerged through the trees into a clearing that looked all too familiar. His heart quickened when he took in his surroundings, recognizing the place from his childhood. The artifact had worked after all.
An acrid, rotten stench reached Seelios’s nostrils that smelled an order of magnitude worse than the blighted crops in Fembleton. He brought up a sleeve to stifle it, but he would’ve had to suffocate himself to keep away the odor. He dropped his arm and let his nose brave the journey.
Between the nostalgia and distraction of the smell, Seelios didn’t notice the body laying in the sand right away, the surrounding sand stained with blood. He slowly stepped out from the tree line, circling a pile of rocks that had a shiny black goo congealed in its center.
He crept closer and saw curly red hair sprawled across the sand. He sprinted and dropped to his knees beside Emeline to check her breathing, but could tell from the cold of her skin that she had long passed.
He pulled away the dark stained shirt that was draped over her chest and recoiled at the sight. A sword had been buried in her chest, the hilt encrusted with dried blood.
“Who could’ve done this to you?” Seelios said with a quiver in his voice. His eyes fell onto a green vest that lay on the ground. Disbelief and horror mixed with a dreaded realization that he tried to force out of his head. He looked back down at the sword and recognized his father’s craftsmanship, confirming his terrible suspicion.
Seelios took a moment to whisper a silent apology, then wrapped a hand around the sword’s hilt, slid the blade out, and let it fall to the ground beside her. The metal was streaked with blood from base to tip.
Seelios lifted his eyes from Emeline’s body, searched the clearing, and discovered the source of the rotten smell. In a part of the forest farthest from the river, the trees sagged in lifeless brown posture, shrinking away from a gaping hole that tunneled deep into the woods.
Black, wrinkled leaves blanketed the ground beneath pale trees with branches that twisted into the air, as if they cried out in pain in their final moments. Grass, bushes, and other vegetation had withered away into a carpet of blighted wilt that lined the floor of the tunnel leading into the shadows.
Something Seelios wasn’t prepared to face awaited him within. He thought back to the last time he saw Garrick in the tavern, where he first mentioned his nightmares. If only he had done more to help his friend then. If only he had listened. It might have been too late to do anything, but Seelios had to try.
Even with the bright and sunny sky shining through the withered limbs, he felt like he was enveloped in darkness as he stepped through the tunnel. The haunting sight of so much death was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
Seelios had been walking for half an hour when he spotted someone standing in shadows, deep within the dead forest. The brawny, shirtless figure faced away, unmoving.
An overwhelming stench of rot and decay forced Seelios to gag several times, threatening to empty the contents of his stomach onto the black forest floor. This figure seemed to be the source of it all, spreading an aura of death.
Seelios kept his eyes fixed on the figure’s back as he approached. He didn’t bother keeping his footsteps silent as the dead leaves and branches crunched underfoot like a crisp layer of snow.
“I’m here, Garrick,” Seelios said in as soothing a voice as he could muster.
The figure slowly lifted his head, but Seelios still couldn’t see his face.
“I found Acorn.” Seelios took a step forward. “And Emeline.”
No response came.
“Did you do that to her?” Seelios asked.
Seelios took another step, almost within reach of his friend. “I didn’t listen to you earlier, about your nightmares. But I see what it’s doing to you. Come with me to Paloise. They can help you.”
The figure whirled around so fast that Seelios jumped back. Garrick’s face was contorted with rage. His eyes were black as midnight. He had the look of someone whose humanity had long abandoned him. Another wave of stench came, causing Seelios’s stomach to lurch once again.
“It’s too late for me,” Garrick said. His eyes twitched as he spoke.
The anger in his face had a momentary lapse as the darkness seemed to subside. His black eyes turned to sadness as he looked at Seelios. He had the look of a man with deep regret, giving in to something he tried to escape, but knew he couldn�
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“I killed her. The only person left whom I truly loved. And I’ll kill you if you don’t leave,” Garrick said, his voice raspy and unrecognizable.
“No, it’s not too late. I can help you,” Seelios said. He took another step and reached out.
Garrick swatted Seelios’s arm away with a force that nearly ripped his shoulder from its socket.
“Be gone!” Garrick yelled. The noise thundered in Seelios’s ears and reached into the depths of his soul. The voice that spoke wasn’t his friend’s, but someone else.
Garrick turned and sprinted into the trees. Green leaves and branches shrunk and curled away as he sped through the forest.
Seelios called out, but Garrick was gone.
13
Seelios clutched at his throbbing arm where Garrick struck him. He’d considered using the rejuvenation stone again, but thought it best to conserve the mana. The pain would pass on its own.
Seelios followed the trail of rotten vegetation back to the clearing. He stood there for the span of several minutes, looking at Emeline lying in the sand. The surrounding trees and setting sun made the area quite beautiful. It was as fitting a place as any for Emeline to be buried.
The soft earth near the river was easy to dig with hands. Seelios scooped out a shallow grave until he reached the harder, colder earth underneath that barely gave way against his fingernails. He walked over to Emeline, picked up the sword that lay beside her, and began to use it to pry chunks of the ground. He scooped out the walls until it was as even as he could manage.
Satisfied, he soaked the green vest in the river and used it to wipe the dried blood from Emeline’s face and clean the bloodstains on her dress as best as he could. He wasn’t strong enough to carry her, so he laid her on Garrick’s tunic and slid her across the sand. Pulling her by the feet, he slowly dragged her into the bottom of her grave.
With Emeline’s arms folded across her chest, he placed a single wildflower in her grasp and stepped out to look at her one last time. Her face looked calm and relaxed, as if she knew nothing but joy in her life. She looked beautiful, even in death.
Seelios bowed his head and closed his eyes. “You were the kindest person I ever knew. May the gods watch over you.”
Filling the grave with dirt was a much easier process than digging, and there was a certain satisfaction when he rounded out the top of the grave with the last bit of earth. He placed another bouquet of flowers at the peak of the mound. Seelios looked at the sword laying nearby, its metal glinting in the light between the wet clumps of dirt caked to the blade. He picked it up and looked over the blood stains. The very symbol of the horror that transpired, the loss of an innocent life to a weapon that should’ve been used to protect her. He plunged the blade into the head of the mound to serve as a headstone, letting it be known to any god or mortal what happened in that clearing.
The sun was getting close to the distant horizon over the river, and in a few hours would settle into night. If Seelios left right away he could put some miles between himself and this sad place while there was still light. He made his way back through the woods until he came to the spot where Acorn was supposed to wait for him, but she was nowhere to be found.
“Acorn!” Seelios shouted. He darted his eyes all around and saw the silhouette of Acorn’s ears against the reflecting sun on the water.
Acorn lowered her head to take a drink and continued to stare across the river. She turned her head to eye Seelios for a moment when he approached, then returned to the water.
“Here you are,” Seelios said as he placed a hand on her neck, rubbing it gently. “It’s time to leave, girl.”
Seelios looked up at the sky, fast approaching twilight. They wouldn’t have much time on the road, but he was eager to get to Paloise as soon as possible.
“Come on, let’s cover a little ground.” Seelios tugged at Acorn’s reins, but she was unyielding to his pull.
Acorn snorted at Seelios and lowered herself to the ground, tucking her legs underneath. He was starting to get to know the stubborn side of his horse.
Seelios gave a sigh. “I suppose we’ve both had enough of today. We’ll make camp here then.”
He gathered kindling from branches strewn across the forest floor and built a fire on a bare patch of ground between two gnarled trees. Acorn walked over and sprawled out on her side by the comforting flames. Seelios didn’t realize how exhausted he was until he scooted over and leaned against her soft fur, nodding off to sleep.
The soft chirping of morning birds woke Seelios. When he opened his eyes, he saw the faintest beginning of a new day’s light stretch across the sky. The pressure from his bladder roused him to his feet, and he started walking deeper into the forest to relieve himself. Acorn lifted her head as he stepped through the brush.
“I’ll be back,” Seelios whispered to the horse.
Not wanting to risk getting lost in the dark, he didn’t travel too far. He turned and squinted through the branches, making sure he could see the path that would lead him back to the camp site.
He reached down to undo his belt, but stopped when he heard something moving in the trees. He looked up and saw a pair of glowing green eyes staring at him from the foliage. At first, Seelios thought it was animal hiding within the thick of the leaves, but realized as the thing moved that it was made of the forest itself. It stepped out and had the appearance of large stag, yet instead of flesh and fur it was made of stone and moss. Great winding antlers of gnarled wood twisted out from its skull of granite. A great mane of swaying willow hung down the sides of its head and down its neck. Its legs were thick trunks of wood with vines sinewing up and burrowing into its body.
Sensing it was a creature of the earth, Seelios tried taking a step back, but his feet pulled against something that trapped them to the ground. Panic swelled in his chest, and he tried grabbing at nearby branches to pull himself out of what he thought to be a patch of quicksand. Plates of rock slid up his legs and gathered around his torso. His hands touched the hard edges of jagged stone and minerals that twisted over his shoulders and crawled down the length of his arms. His arms and body became so weighed down that the only thing he could move was his head. Even if he was stronger, there was little he could’ve done to break free.
A deep chuckle echoed through the trees. “You make your great escape only to flee to a forest? You’re nothing but a fool without that old man.”
Wispy green light engulfed the earthen stag as it rose up on two legs. Antlers shrank back into dark hair and the rocky exterior of the earth creature turned to shimmering armor.
The green light faded and the God of Earth stood, smiling through his thick black beard. “This is my domain,” he said as he struck his armored chest with a fist, sending his green cape billowing out to the side in regal grace.
The god thrust his hand through the stone encasing Seelios’s chest and rummaged around his tunic, grabbing the teleportation totem. He pulled it out, and the rock slid back into place. Even if Seelios wasn’t trapped, he would’ve been paralyzed with fear.
Seelios calmed his nerves as best as he could. “Why? Why kill us? Gameus, you’re supposed to protect us.”
The god narrowed his glowing green eyes. “You dare address me as anything other than Lord of the Earth? Your arrogance is astounding.”
The rock tightened around Seelios. He winced from the pain, but pushed it aside and continued. “What do you gain from all this? We’ve done nothing to threaten you.”
Gameus chuckled. “Such is the mind of a naive child. I’ve lived for eons. Humans are mere insects in the cycle of all things of this world and the next. If you think humans threaten me, you’re even more idiotic than I thought. A war is coming with an outcome at stake far greater than any amount of human life. Your father’s involvement is paramount, and I kill those who stand in my way of finding him.”
“What is it you want with my father?” Seelios asked.
Gameus scoffed. “It matters not. Yo
u were going to be my means of getting him, but after seeing what you’re capable of, I’ve decided to turn my attention to you.”
Seelios swallowed nervously. “And so now you’ll kill me?”
The God of Earth sneered. “I want to, boy. The frustration of your father escaping my grasp and you eluding me twice now is enough to make me smite you across this forest floor.”
Gameus walked up to Seelios and narrowed his eyes, staring deep into his soul. “But your recent escape has shown me something. What you did in Alnerwick, drawing mana from the sun, it’s unheard of for a mortal. There’s a part of you that’s yet to be fully awakened. You have a place in this war, and far be it for me to stand in the way of that . . . for now.”
While the god spoke, Seelios struggled against the earthly restraints. The rock was so tight on his arms that he couldn’t even slide an inch and only succeeded in scuffing his skin. He needed a way to escape. His eyes fell to the teleportation totem in the god’s hand.
Gameus held the artifact up. “Indeed, it came so easily to you. At least, more easily than anyone else in your circumstances. It’s a pity you’re so reliant on it. Anyone with half a mind and your talents would use their mana to surge their strength and break free from my hold.” The god gave a mocking chuckle. “Still, you are impressive. I’ve heard teleportation isn’t an easy feat.”
Seelios wanted to believe the god had good intentions, but he killed so many. He couldn’t trust that the god actually wanted him to live. Not with Seelios being held prisoner.
The ring on Seelios’s finger grew warm. He had a burning sensation to use it, but even if he activated it he couldn’t bring his hand up to peer through it.
The god turned away from Seelios and walked through the trees. The branches and leaves moved like a parting sea. The ground swelled as roots snapped and trees groaned, giving away to the shifting earth. A throne of shimmering rock broke through the dirt and lifted to nearly the height of Seelios. The God of Earth sat himself down with a swish of his cape, facing Seelios again.
As the Earthen Stag Walks (The Simulacrum Book 1) Page 10