by Ross Turner
Her strange sixth sense, following the feeling of the blackness approaching, the same feeling that infected Clover’s body so wholly and completely, took her into the very heart of the great red mother bear. She felt herself engulfed by the blackness, the plague surrounding her entirely, reaching out to claim her still living body. All at once she became one with Clover’s poisoned form, the feeling surging between them both.
This must have been how Clover had been weakened so by the plague, Vivian thought. The blackness had claimed her while she slept, and now it had its hold on her. It was going to drain the life right from her very soul, just as it had drained the life from the forest all around them. She was already so weak, and the plague had already stolen so much from her, there was no going back now, and Vivian knew it.
Defeat settled in for a moment. Overwhelming young Vivian like a towering wave, it washed over her, drowning her in its torment.
But she remained resolute. No matter how bleak things appeared to be, no matter how far gone Clover already was, she at the very least had to try. She would never forgive herself if she didn’t.
And so, as the blackness continued to close in, attempting with all its might to claim her, Vivian fought against it. It barraged her relentlessly, and she could feel as it crept closer to her, the strength, and the fight, and the life, being drained from her too, just like it had been from Clover.
Then, with that thought of her mother dashing in and out of her mind in a fleeting moment, Vivian’s strength was renewed, and she pushed the darkness back. It gave her the strength to keep fighting.
She wasn’t really aware how she was doing it, she only knew that the more she wanted to defeat it, and the greater her desire to win was, the further back it retreated. So she kept resisting, with every inch she gained, her confidence soared and her longing to succeed built, expanding like wildfire: a searing flame that would be unquenchable until it had run its full course.
Finally, after an immeasurable amount of time, though she doubted it was really very long at all, Vivian forced the last of the blackness from Clover’s body, banishing it from the great red bear’s heart and lungs and blood, leaving her free from the deathly infection.
The young girl, exhausted and weary from her efforts, slumped back to the floor, her arms resting on her knees, and gasped for breath. The sweat poured from Vivian and she wiped it away from her forehead with the dirty sleeve of her shirt.
But even as Vivian’s senses returned to her body, just as they had done on that hunt many years ago when they had happened across the black wolf from the south, she knew she would never be the same again. For, although she had left Clover’s body free from the blackness that had plagued it, Vivian could still sense it scuttling off into the night, the plague hidden in the darkness. At that point it might even have feared her, but nonetheless, it was still there, biding its time and waiting for the next opportunity to strike.
Vivian again breathed deeply for a moment, her legs shaking slightly for they felt weak from exertion. She looked at Clover once she’d caught her breath, and even in the now dark of the night, it was clear that the blackness of her fur had faded, returning it to its tint of red, and her breathing was significantly lighter.
It appeared that Vivian had been successful.
“Thank you, Vivian.” Was all Clover said, looking gratefully up at her young cub, both of them exhausted.
Red looked on in awe, amazed.
“What did you do Viv?” He asked of her, his adoring eyes looking on at his dearest friend with a mixture of shock, adoration and gratitude. She looked back at him, stunned also. Her eyes, even though their glow of shining blue was so obvious and golden amidst the darkness, stood behind a wall of tears.
“I…I don’t really know…” She admitted, not really knowing what to say. “But I managed to get it out…”
Red smiled warmly. He had known about the Featherstone family heirloom for some time now, and obviously Clover had known about it for even longer. Now that his Viv was discovering it, for they had been unable to tell her, even considering the circumstances, he couldn’t help but swell with pride.
“I don’t think it’ll be enough though…” Vivian added, somewhat despairingly. Running her hand through Clover’s fur once again, she felt that she was not as cold as before, but still it wasn’t good.
Vivian immediately set about making a fire, as close to their great, red mother bear as she dared. She began piling sticks and kindling and pulled her flint from her pocket. Within only minutes the flames were licking up around the wood, casting heat in all directions. Red lay the other side of his mother, warming her with his own enormous body.
Clover smiled as she watched her children work and fuss over her. She didn’t have the heart to deny them their efforts, even though she knew it was too late. Somehow they all knew it was too late. But that, of course, wouldn’t stop them from trying.
At least Vivian had removed the blackness from within her, so now the pain was gone, and they were making her comfortable.
No mother could wish for more.
She closed her eyes contentedly, and with the deep rooted pride within her heart that only a parent can feel.
“Thank you Viv, Red…” She said quietly, her words whistling out slowly between her teeth. It was effort now just to lift her head. There was no strength left in her. “I love you both. I couldn’t have asked for two better cubs…”
Following Clover’s final words, Vivian and Red both remained silent, unable to speak. They simply lay with her, keeping her close, comforting her, though, whether or not they would have admitted it, they needed her company just as much as she needed theirs.
It proved to be a long, torturous few hours, but the three of them remained, refusing to yield to the dark or the cold or the fear or the approaching plague, for together they were stronger than they could ever have imagined.
Sometime later, during the night, amidst the darkness, as the fire roared and cracked and popped with intense heat, Clover passed away, her soul slipping from the world like a ghost, unseen and unheard. But nonetheless, the instant it happened, Vivian and Red both knew, and they wept severely, for of course they had loved their mother dearly, and with all their hearts.
Both they and the Redwoods mourned Clover’s loss, and it was a terrible and momentous occasion, for regardless of anything Vivian and Red could do, all knew that the woodlands would never again be the same without her.
12
Vivian and Red trudged through the Redwood Forest, through the dark of the night, followed by an enemy unseen in the blackness, in a kind of desolated silence. They had said nothing since Clover had passed away, and the event had hurt them both severely. They shared the pain with each other in a strange sense of wilful silence, enduring against the night.
Though they had stayed with their mother for some time afterwards, it hadn’t been long before the blackness caught up again, finding them amidst the dark of the night, for it seemed this plague was impossible to escape. So, they had been forced yet again to continue even further south, and they had had to leave the body of their mother behind, abandoned, undoubtedly another of the countless victims of the blackness engulfing their woodland home.
As they walked, both exhausted now, Vivian found herself musing over a few rather depressing thoughts. Although she knew it wasn’t true, her immediate notion was that she should have tried harder to save her mother. She berated herself for having let the plague claim her, blaming her own incompetence, even though, to all extents, she knew that wasn’t true. She had tried her utmost, and indeed had even succeeded in removing the threat from Clover’s body, her mother had just been too far gone to recover.
Secondly, Vivian actually thought of mankind, which she had not done for quite some time. She thought of the Lord and Ladies of the high class families who lived in their great mansions protruding above the treetops. She thought of the people in Virtus, the great city that she still had never known. And she wonde
red, were they all as affected by this plague as her family was? Or were they, in fact, safe from it? Was it was their doing?
Finally, several hours later, Red decided they had gone far enough, and he abruptly stopped, turning to his dear, exhausted friend, a haunted look in his eyes, mirrored only by the ghostly, blue glow of Vivian’s own.
“You need to rest.” He said wearily, his deep gruff voice laboured. “Light a fire and get some sleep.” He instructed. “I will keep watch.”
It was not very often at all that Red instructed Vivian to do anything - there was never really the need. But these were exceptional circumstances, and she knew he was right, so she didn’t argue. He could last much longer than her without sleep, and they had to rest at some point, that much was clear at least.
But not only that, Vivian also suspected that her dear Red wanted to be alone for a while. She had learned over the years that, though friendly as her family were, bears sorely needed to spend some time in solitude and silence. Whether that be a lone hunt every once in a while, or simply time alone to sit and ponder in their own company. It was merely in a bear’s nature, and the red bears were no exception.
She lit a fire immediately and bedded down beside it, nestling herself in Red’s soft fur as he looked out into the darkness to the north, though she took extra care not to disturb him, for she could clearly see that his eyes had wandered far away, and he was waist deep in thought.
His body was warm and his heat soon sent Vivian into a deep, albeit uneasy sleep, and she dreamt of the plague and how it had infected Clover, and how she could still feel it all around them, poisoning the woodlands in just the same way. Surrounding them in her dream, Vivian could feel the blackness closing in, and no matter how quickly she ran, or how far behind her the plague seemed, always, within seconds, it was upon her again.
Vivian knew not how to escape the monster in the blackness, and it was eventually with great relief that her panicked sleep was interrupted. She shot awake when she heard the low, threatening growl. The noise emanated from the very back of Red’s throat, and was the sound he always made when he sensed an enemy approaching.
“Red?” Vivian said cautiously, peering out past the dancing flames and straining her eyes against the darkness. But she needn’t have bothered. She could sense exactly what it was, and the hairs on her arms and neck stood on end in terror.
“We have to go.” He growled in reply, and Vivian nodded fearfully.
No sooner had they left the supposed safety and sanctuary of their hasty, makeshift camp that the fire began to wither and fade and die as the blackness crept over and consumed it, snuffing them wholly into darkness yet again. Somehow that simple act seemed significant amidst the blackness all about them, and a very noticeable chill ran up both Vivian and Red’s spines.
It was moving much faster now, and Vivian could barely keep pace with her dearest Red as they charged further south still, the plague close on their heels. They spoke very little as they ran, for fear gripped them both tightly.
As formidable and terrifying as Red might have been, there seemed to be nothing to stop this unseen enemy, and if they could not find a way to escape it, surely it would prove to be their end.
Their flight continued through the remainder of the night and into the cold hours of the morning. The sun broke the horizon far to the east and streamed bright rays of orange and yellow and red and gold through the thick canopy, penetrating the foliage as an anchor penetrates the ocean. It felt almost as though the light was intruding as it crept its way through the dying leaves and branches and trunks.
For some reason, though it hadn’t even occurred to Vivian that it might happen, the daylight seemed to slow the encroaching threat to a crawl, and gifted them precious time to rest and recoup, for they were both exhausted now beyond belief.
Vivian sank to her knees and her dear Red lay beside her, breathing heavily, both unsure what they should do now. Seemingly their only option was to run, and even that held little hope for their survival. They would not last another night the same as the one they’d just had.
But what other option did they have?
It seemed there was no stopping the plague, and they were both filled to bursting with fear, an emotion not usually felt by the red bear, so powerful and knowledgeable and experienced. They both remained deep in thought for some time, knowing they really only had one option, but neither of them wanting to accept it.
Even the Redwoods all about them were silent, and dying in fact, unable to offer them guidance even if they had wanted to.
“We should make for the mountains.” Red said finally, his voice quiet and deep. He sounded defeated. The only thing keeping him going was trying not to lose his Viv the way he had lost his mother.
“Will we be safe there?” Vivian asked hopefully.
Red didn’t answer for a moment, and the silence was more than a little uncertain.
“Maybe it won’t be able to follow us there…” He suggested, though Vivian could tell he was clinging to something that wasn’t there - a possibility of truth that didn’t exist. He had no more idea than she did, but she knew he would go to the end of the world to protect her, and she hugged his broad front paw thankfully, just as wide as her body.
“Ok…” She replied finally, rubbing her cheek on his soft fur.
Red sighed deeply, knowing that she would trust him, regardless of the fact that they both knew he was wrong.
“We’ll make for the mountains.”
Within the hour they were moving again. They had not eaten. There was nothing to be had, save a few roots dug up from the still barely living earth. And so, on that hardly substantial meal, they made south yet again, desperate to put at least some distance between them and their enemy while it was slowed somewhat by the sun.
The day passed quickly and above them, through the thick covering of trees and branches and leaves, the rocky mountains that Vivian had gazed at as a child, all those years ago, from the safety of Featherstone Keep, loomed above them in all their glory - in all their solitude and mystery. From a distance they had always looked like an endless sea of peaks and ridges, vast greys tipped with white, and even blue and purple streaked across their faces in the right twilight. And now that they were much closer, they were no less magnificent, and their enormity was all that much more apparent.
But even as they marched south still, Vivian could sense something building around her. This was not her understanding of the blackness that she could feel, for that evil was behind them for the moment. No, this feeling was altogether different, and it felt strangely familiar.
She remained silent as they continued. Red seemed lost in thought, whilst Vivian was lost in concentration, straining her hearing, attempting desperately to separate the very quiet and mixed sounds all around her. But she had a feeling that no matter how hard she tried, it would make no difference, for it was not her ears, or even that particular sense, picking up the sounds.
By now Vivian knew it was the Redwoods she was hearing. The last time she had listened for them, opened herself to them, they had remained silent, and since then she had not heard a thing from them. She had thought them too badly injured to speak.
What were they trying to tell her now?
Did they know what was happening?
Did they know how to stop it?
She stopped walking then and Red snapped from his half daze and looked at his Viv questioningly, but he didn’t need to ask what she was doing. The look on her face and the feeling about her was one that he recognised all too well.
And so, regardless of everything that had happened, all that they had lost, and all they were still undoubtedly going to lose, for the Redwoods spoke to him still also, he smiled. Pride swelled through the young, powerful, red bear’s body, as he watched his Vivian open herself to that which had been concealed within her for so long now.
She focused carefully, and the Redwoods spilled their knowledge gladly and freely, entrusting their fate, and ind
eed the fate of the entire wilderness, yet again, to the only humans they could trust, even if the line was running a little scarce: the Featherstones.
13
‘The Greystone’s power is not unlike your own, Vivian.’
The voices whispered quickly and quietly, their many hundreds upon thousands of tones urgent, even anxious. The young girl, Vivian Featherstone, raised by both humans and bears, was sure that they made entirely no sound as they spoke, so she had no idea how she was actually hearing their words. But by that point it didn’t matter. She could hear them, or perhaps rather detect them; however she was doing it, regardless, she listened eagerly.
‘Though it’s not nearly as old, nor deep, and certainly not as powerfully rooted as the Featherstone’s.’
‘Power…?’ Vivian asked, forming the words slowly and clearly, and with obvious uncertainty, in her mind, unsure whether her question would be heard. She needn’t have worried, for even as she thought, it was as if she had spoken, and she could feel the Redwood trees all about her listening, and even thinking.
‘Yes.’ They responded simply, as if their words were obvious. ‘The plague that killed Clover, and that is killing the rest of the woodlands too, was created by the Greystones.’ Vivian’s jaw set firmly at the mention of her mother’s death and the Featherstone’s rival, feuding family.
If what the Redwoods were telling her was true, then the Greystone family was responsible for the deaths of all three of her parents, and that notion upset Vivian’s calm somewhat ferociously. The trees all around her seemed to sense her anger, and hushed her rage gently, even caringly.
‘Calm yourself young Vivian.’ They whispered to her. ‘Anger will not aid you. It will only inhibit your ability, as it does theirs.’
‘What do you mean?’ Vivian asked then, unsure exactly what the Redwoods were trying to tell her, though she gathered that would become something of a habit.