Sorrow found its advent on the passing of a gentle breeze that caressed the veins of decay. Sickness had found this forest, a sickness that was slow and deadly and would end the lives of many.
Among the wounded trees a girl in brown leather in garb, lined with patchwork rabbit fur took a nut from her pack and fed it to a small squirrel spirit nestled into her shoulder. “Thanks,” it acknowledged “Here you go!”
Wordless, she lithely adjusted her pack over her shoulder, nodded and closed her eyes as a soft pale light surrounded her. She could now hear the forest’s pain. The wind carried the trees tortured cries as the song of birds sung fearful tunes. She carried on through the forest. The further in she ventured, the more creatures whispered sounds of caution and consoled each other against the rumors of corruption.
Something felt wrong within her gut. The balance of life and death was somehow uneven. The girl’s gloved fingers reached out and traced the edges of the rot on one of the trees “How do I heal you?” she whispered beneath her breath and gathered it into her hand. A gust shifted through the treetops and the wood creaked. Yaen took out a small herb jar and placed the rotten moss inside.
“Quest, See, Learn… Know” a beautifully eerie string of powerful words articulated from a translucent green butterfly spirit that fluttered overhead.
Nerves threatened the young woman’s mind; she knew the spirit had given her an incredibly difficult task. She had a flurry of questions. How do you save a forest? How long would it take? Where should she even start? Or was she supposed to end it?
“Yaen,
Open and close your palm slowly now.
Take a deep breath.
All life will have hard days.
Never forget, no matter how cloudy or dark it is, there is always light.”
The butterfly’s words echoed through the trees, Uri knew her confusion and answered with a thread of flowing spiritual energy “Life, is legion.”
Yaen returned no reply. Responsibility was the burden of all those who had the power to wield it, this was hers. The sudden sound of a high-pitched wail followed by a nearby thud hindered the haze of her thoughts. “It begins,” Uri uttered as Yaen followed the thread and emerged into a small glade where she found the body of a doe collapsed at foot of a pool. She had healed and hunted deer before, though this one looked particularly weak. It whimpered fearfully upon her arrival.
The healer crouched at the side of the writhing creature “Other one not here to cause you pain,” she cooed. The doe calmed at her speech.
“You know talk?” it replied with heavy breath, its head rested against the dirt.
“Yes. Other one know talk, you be still. Hurt,” Yaen replied, eyes fixated on the creature’s body. Unusually dark brown veins crawled from the doe’s jawline to the underside of her torso “Can you talk of why hurt?”
Another heavy breath came from the doe, it would be dead before the rise of the next dawn
“Food die- hungry. Eat- dead food- Hurt,” the creature struggled between its pain.
Yaen’s brow furrowed with worry, it was plain that rot was a natural part of the circle of life, yet somehow this appeared unnatural. This display of discoloration in the body of the doe was unfamiliar, animals would eat strange things all the time and usually their constitutions would take care of the rest. Regardless of the rots’ origin, the one thing the healer knew was that she could not remove it or restore this being to health.
“Does one want long hurt in hope of life, or short hurt and quiet?” the young half-elf gently placed her hand over the doe and pet it for comfort in its final moments.
“Son-” it reared its face in a hopeless attempt to raise itself, then settled into the touch “alone.”
“Other one will find son. If alone and alive. Other one will feed and raise son until strong,” the young healer’s hand continued to run gently down the doe’s hide “though Other one cannot talk to keep son from death.”
Save for the doe’s deep, pained breath, silence lingered for a moment before it closed its eyes and surrendered an answer “Thank you Other one. Enough. Short hurt.”
Yaen reached for her belt and unsheathed Mercy, the dagger gifted to her by her parents. Uri had shown her the painless point of a doe many times, this one would be no different.
It was over in an instant. At the strike of Yaen’s blade, life drained from the doe’s eyes as it met a swift and painless end.
“To death and new life, we guide you,” the cool tones of the healer’s ethereal voice muttered, eyes turned green as the wind gushed past her. Everywhere a soft sparkling, green energy channeled centered from the butterfly, through Yaen and into the dead body of the creature. A flicker of blinding bright light shone, illuminating the vicinity as from the doe’s carcass, an elegant, beautiful spirit lifted into the air and pranced with delight.
“Your new journey awaits you,” Yaen raised her hand into the sky and a stream of celestial green light paved the way toward the gates of the afterlife. A moment lingered, the doe turned for a final bow of thanks and vanished into the gateway of the dead.
With the departure of the doe’s spirit, so too did the light begin to dim. A moment of silence fell across the forest, the forest would remember.
“An old shrine dedicated to my brethren of the forest lay through the thicket to the west. Lift this shell to the stones lay there, I will guide you.” Uri instructed. Another stream of green light appeared, leading toward the west.
It was at that moment Yaen knew that this was another test, this time one of endurance. Heavy was the bittersweet stench of decay as Yaen lifted the doe’s corpse over her body and slugged her way along the course of the stream toward the shrine.
In the distance the sound of a twig snapped on a footfall that differed from her own. Risu swiveled on her shoulder, sniffed and peered into the distance, his tiny ears alert for sound. “What’s wrong Risu?” Yaen grunted her query.
“Other spirits dwell in these woods. We are not alone.”
