I, Corinthius (The Vasterium Saga)

by Shae Christi

  Then one morning Adalheid did not show up at all. Corinthius was beside himself with panic. He ran as far as he could where he thought Adalheid might be but she was nowhere in sight. A few days went by and Corinthius had slumped in to a deep dark depression. Even his dear friend's apple scent had evaporated from his fur and his own stag smell assaulted his nostrils. He told himself, tortured himself even, that she had fallen in love with a human and she had left her wild crafting life and friendship with Corinthius behind in the forest forever.

  Chapter 5

  Corinthius took to walking the rubble strewn dirt path that weaved up to a stone bridge that arched over an iron grey river that ran like a vein through Vasterium. Because he was so involved inside his own thoughts he was not paying attention to his surroundings. A band of men were walking over the bridge towards Corinthius' side. The man in front caught sight of the stag coming his way.

  Suddenly an arrow grazed Corinthius' hind leg burning a track of blood caused by the edge of the arrow head. He looked up and saw the last man of the five reloading his quiver. The men in front also scrambled to load theirs. Corinthius quickly bolted for the dense forest of fir trees to his right. The men dispersed in all directions to hunt him down, their voices shouting in the forest air. Corinthius quickly sniffed out a small overhang of rock that Adalheid had shown him which was covered in flourishing vines. There was enough space behind the vines to hide himself as the men scattered and regrouped before dispersing again.

  Corinthius eventually heard them pack up and move on, their voices gently fading away as they took the road that would finally lead them out of the forest to the North.

  Corinthius later rummaged for scraps of food and drank from the nearby river before he bunked back down again behind the vine threaded rocky overhang. He felt hot, confused, and deeply sad. All throughout the night he kept waking and thinking of his beloved Adalheid and the deep wound in his heart caused him to weep out for her to come back to him. Once again he left the rocky overhang and walked for a while under the inky blue sky and stared up and wished he was as far away from Vasterium as the stars in the heavens were from earth. Finally he laid down beside the river and watched it rush past his front hooves gurgling up a strange elemental language he could not decipher. The motion of the water sent him in to a deep trance which eventually cajoled him in to a soundless sleep.

  In the pitch dark before the dawn broke and before the birds began to sing in a new day Corinthius woke to the awful sensation of having his antlers twisted violently out of his head. He felt the earth sliding away from beneath him. The stones and rubble scrambled like hard shelled animals underneath his weight. Under the milky cream of the moonlight he could see a gang of men in dark robes. Their frightening hoods hid their faces under even darker shadows. They were pulling him away from the river bank and in to the dark forest where the giant fir trees were. He tried to stand but they had bound his legs so tightly he could only muster a mild wriggle. He wondered how had he not woken to the sound or feel of them as they tied him up while he slept. He could see in the distance the direction the men were dragging him to that there were cones of fire crowned on the ends of tall wooden poles which illuminated an opening in the wood.

  Then the drumming and chanting began and filled up the thick forest air with an unnerving malevolent energy. Corinthius could feel his own heart drumming fiercely against his chest as if it were begging to be let out of his body. A priest took to the altar and spoke very strange, dark and frightening words. He projected his voice upwards as if whatever deity he was communicating with just hovered above them in the thick oily blackness where the light of the fire couldn't reach.

  The drumming and chanting stopped and one of the men came over to Corinthius and hunkered down next to him and pulled out a knife. Corinthius flinched at the sight of the glaring blade and hoped that the deep pain slicing in to his flesh would be brief and merciful. But, the man merely cut away his ropes and two other men grabbed his antlers. They hauled him towards the priest's direction and dumped him unceremoniously over a large boulder with a flat shiny surface. The priest sang out a number of those strange, unnerving words that Corinthius couldn't comprehend and raised his knife over his hooded head and the knife blade glittered dangerously under the fire light. Then the priest aimed the blade immediately for Corinthius' throat.

  Suddenly a terrifying clap of thunder burst through the air above them and shook the earth beneath and the priest fell back a few feet in utter shock. Corinthius rolled off the boulder and ran skittishly for the dark trees but his legs gave way under him and he laid dazed beneath one of the wooden poles of fire. The wound where the arrow head had sliced in to his hind leg was stinging badly and he began to lick it clean.

  Then lightning struck the ground and burned a ring around the men and Corinthius. A carpet of green smoke snaked round their ankles. The men fell to their knees in reverence and awe and seemed to praise what they believed was the entity that they were prepared to sacrifice Corinthius to moments before. A bright ball of blue light and trailing smoke exploded into a green mist. They waited for what was to come next. No fantastic exploding colours came. No thunder or lightning. It all went quiet.

  Then, a twig snapped in the dark shadows surrounding the fiery ring. A tall woman stepped forward and interrupted the men's ritual space.

  "Hello, gentlemen," she said.

  She wore a black metal crown with side plates that cupped her ears and it was embellished with a gold design that flashed beneath the firelight.

  The priest looked disgusted and stood up. He removed his hood and Corinthius immediately recognised his face as one of the men on the stone bridge who hunted him earlier that day.

  "A woman! You're not Axelwane," he sneered.

  The tall woman laughed at him coldly.

  "Evidently,” she purred. She looked over at Corinthius.

  “You were about to sacrifice a stag? How quaint and somewhat archaic, if I might add. If you don't mind, I'd rather have him alive if that's all the same," she said in a seductive tone that only irritated the priest all the more.

  "Get out of here, you infidel! You will not be taking the stag," screamed the priest. "We found it. It's ours. Now get out of here."

  The tall woman looked the priest up and down with an unnerving icy glare.

  "You would do well to mind that mouth of yours, little man, otherwise instead of sacrificing animals for deeper connections to a deity, well, I can send you to meet him in person, all of you, if you're not careful. Axelwane is my father, a true misfortune if ever there was one but, he would be ever so pleased to have you for dinner, I'm sure."

  She gave a cold, sinister laugh.

  The priest immediately fell quiet. He had caught sight of the design on her helmet and recognised the gold braiding all around the rim of two mountain snakes intertwined over gold rope. The priest stepped aside with a worried look now etching in to his brow.

  The woman waved her hand and a blue-green light emanated in front of her. The men behind the priest gasped and realised this really was a supernatural elemental goddess in their presence. The priest fell to his knees immediately.

  "Belovaya, Dark Queen of the Underworld, I offer my most sincere apologies and did not mean to offend. How can we be of service to you?"

  Belovaya ignored them and set her sight on Corinthius who began to crawl away from her on his unsteady hooves. Her tall, slender frame, glittering lavender eyes, and a sly smile that crooked the corners of her full mouth deeply unnerved him.

  "Come to me, my little one, my beautiful Corinthius."

  She knew his name. That was enough for Corinthius to turn and try his best to bolt the ring of dying fire for the dark trees. Belovaya flung her hand forward and the emerald mist struck him with such force. But, he did not hit the ground. He began to hover quietly a few feet from the earth and immediately fell in to a half sleep.

  The priest and his men wailed with delight at her power and begged her again asking
if they could be of service to her. Belovaya looked at the men on their knees, their hands clasped in front of their chests to show her their utmost respect, the absolute expectancy in their wide eyes.

  "No,” she said in an almost bored tone. “The very sight of you pandering to me sickens me to my core."

  She snapped her fingers and an intense fire smothered and devoured them like a wild elemental animal. Their screams of agony were heard the entire time she walked through the dark forest lanes of giant elm trees. Corinthius caught a drowsy glimpse of what she did to the men but then began to drift in and out of consciousness.

  He was barely aware of his surroundings whilst in his suspended animated dream world as Belovaya held gently on to his antlers and made toward her home in the Berring dells, a lush green valley guarded by ancient yew trees. By the time she crossed the dark meadow the men's screams had stopped but the wind carried the scent of their charred bodies over the wet morning dew.

  Chapter 6

  Belovaya arrived with a dreaming Corinthius in front of her home. A cave covered in moss and entangled in the embracing roots of an ancient yew tree. Inside the cave and deep down below was the Underworld. Belovaya's natural home.

  She rested Corinthius gently down on his side in the soft grass beside the large yew and blew a sapphire mist over him. Soon his eyes opened and he struggled to figure how he came to be there. Then he craned his head up towards her. He recognised her face. He tried to stand but, he could barely move.

  "I think you have had enough time in purgatory to ponder my offer, sweet Corinthius," said Belovaya bending down close to whisper in his ear.

  He tried to move his head away from her to no avail.

  She smelled of something so primal and pungent. Like the black dreadful mud deep in the Vasterium earth. Something so archaic and alien to him.

  She grabbed his muzzle and his head moved under her will and he was forced to look at her. He couldn't help but look deep in to her mesmerising purple eyes that had a light all of their own. And he half remembered something as if drifting in and out of dream and kissing the edges of the real world. A faded memory of a man who once lived in the deepest part of the forest.

  He suddenly felt the sensation of the earth beneath his feet. He managed to slip his face out of Belovaya's mellowing grasp and he looked down at himself in the breaking light of the dawn. He had now become a half man, half woodland creature. His legs were still those of the stag he had been moments before but he now had human feet. But, he had a real human torso and arms and he reached up to his face and the muzzle had gone. He felt his rough hands on the flesh of his cheekbones.

  Was this Belovaya's idea of a twisted joke to half turn him in to the very thing he dreamt of being? Forcing him to remain a half creature of the forest? Something the natural world would never accept nor the human one if they ever laid eyes on him? If it was it was a deeply cruel one.

  As he brushed his fingers through his chestnut hair he touched his antlers, now so wide and large like the thick branches from an oak tree. He looked at Belovaya who was taking great delight in his own astonishment. She reached out her hand to stroke his face and it was like an ice cold electric charge shot through his body. Corinthius stumbled back from her.

  And then he remembered.

  His memory became bright and brilliant and burned like the stars in the firmament. He had been a man once who had lived in the woods. A true, blood, bone, and muscle being of human origin and not a beast that roamed the wood like a vagabond. He had always been Corinthius. A simple, nature loving, young man. A woodcutter, who was happy and content with his simple life.

  Belovaya had been watching him from afar for some time and had fallen in love with him. He was unlike any other man she knew of or had seen in her thousands of years roaming her dark lonely world. He didn't move through the Vasterium world with the air of self-entitlement or predatory instincts. Desperate to have him as her own and to hide her real identity from him she changed her appearance to lure him in. Days became weeks and weeks became months and she remained patient for Corinthius to notice her but, sweet and gentle as he was with her, he only ever looked on her as a little sister whom he had to protect. The deep feelings that she held for him almost burned her from the inside and she ran away.

  Three nights later under the thin quiver of a Balsamic moon Belovaya paid him a visit at his cottage. This time she revealed her true identity to him. She explained how Corinthius exposed some deeper emotion inside herself she never knew she had. Corinthius was horrified that she freely used her dark magic to transform herself in the hope she could make him fall in love with her. He hated the fact she tried to bewitch him and his feelings in such an immoral way. He told her never to come back again. But Belovaya persisted and promised him power, riches, and extraordinary gifts beyond his own human comprehension. She promised him that he would rule with her in her Underworld and make him a King.

  But, Corinthius had no interest in power or material possessions or supernatural gifts and again he asked her to leave.

  Belovaya's patience snapped and she slammed Corinthius against the wall by his throat. She had never in all her many centuries alive been turned down by a mortal being. And a useless, pathetic one at that, she snarled. She threw him across the front gardens of his cottage in a savage rage and once to his feet he tried to run for the forest ahead to escape her. She immediately hit him with an dark magical fog that slammed in to him like an angry ox and winded him severely. He stumbled but managed to gain his footing again and he kept running in to the thick wood until he looked over his shoulder. There above him he saw a terrifying charge of fire engulf the tall fir trees under the night sky.

  He immediately forgot what it was he had been escaping from and assumed it was the angry inferno he and the rest of the animal stampede were departing from. Under all the frightening chaos Corinthius could hear a woman's voice scream out how she would destroy everything he loved. Now completely unaware of his real identity, Corinthius had become the stag he believed he always was. He just kept running and Belovaya in her rage and unrequited shameful feelings turned a vast section of the forest in to a seething hellfire. Destroying the things he revered the most; his cottage, the trees, the wildlife, the plants, and the feeling of sanctuary it all gave him. She wanted revenge.

  But, afterwards, when she descended back in to the Underworld she tortured herself over what she had done. But she despised her feelings more because she could not control them. And she became even more bitter that a man, a mortal being, had undone her into becoming an irrational supernatural being. Again. When the forest fell calm and the danger was over she watched the overwhelmed, little wandering stag from afar but didn't intervene until his life was almost over.

  Corinthius gently scraped the soft, fleshy pads of his feet against the wet dew and relished the feeling he didn't realise he had missed, ached even, for so long. Then he stared hard at Belovaya.

  "Why did you do this to me? You destroyed my home. You eradicated my identity. For what? What did you gain out of this?"

  Belovaya came close to him. She looked deeply repentant for what she had done.

  "I gained nothing. Nothing at all, Corinthius. Because I still don't have you."

  "Belovaya, you must understand. You will never have me."

  The realisation of his words bled in to Belovaya's face and she closed her eyes as if to conceal the emotions churning angrily within. She shook her head.

  "No. No. You don't win this game, Corinthius."

  Corinthius was stunned at her lack of reasoning and began pacing out of sheer impatience.

  "This is not a game, Belovaya. My life is not a game. Your feelings are not a game. Who wins out of this? Neither of us!"

  Belovaya's tears fell from her eyes and the light in them made them glitter like amethysts in the rain. She would not accept his rejection and she grabbed him again in such a vice like grip he thought she would dislocate his jaw. Her supernatural flesh on his skin caused
her ice like waves to shoot into his body but this time he was able to withstand her energy. Her skin was glacial cold and he was warm to the touch.

  "I'm not asking you, Corinthius. I'm telling you. You now have no choice in this matter. You are to be betrothed to me and you will rule my kingdom with me. You will show me the gratitude I deserve for taking you out from your free peasant roots and for transforming you in to something even more divine than you already are."

  She began to cry and moved in so close to him, in an effort to find comfort in their strange intimacy while breathing in his intoxicating scent, that their lips almost touched.

  "If I still refuse what will you do?," asked Corinthius placidly.

  She slowly pulled herself away from him and studied his face.

  "What will you do, Belovaya?," said Corinthius confidently as he pulled himself away from her mellowing grasp.

  "I won't do it, Corinthius. I'll never forgive myself."

  "I will not be your King, Belovaya. I will not rule your kingdom. So, you have no choice. You have to kill me."

  Corinthius knelt before her and spread out his arms.

  "Kill me. Take aim at my heart and kill me, Belovaya. I'd rather die than be a part of your own immorality."

  Belovaya seemed to struggle with what was being asked of her. She struggled to comprehend how he felt so little for her and she too much for him and that there was no meeting point to connect such wild opposites. Corinthius became impatient with her lack of resolve.

  "Why won't you end my life? Be merciful, for once. Put us both out of our misery. You've had no problem destroying men left, right, and centre throughout the ages. You may have put me in a trance when you took me out of the woods but I know you burned those men alive and have no conscience about it."