Laura S. Fox
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Hungry Heart - Book #4 - Ch. 11
🕑 Added 2022-11-13 19:00:06 +0000 UTCChapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven – Black Fire
“How does it feel to be back home?” Duril walked side by side with Claw.
Toru and Varg had gone fishing, despite the bearshifter’s protests that he was the most able of their lot to handle the slippery fish in the river. Since the young tiger was bent on being the best at everything, and Varg had offered to teach him all he knew, they had eventually won against their companion.
Claw didn’t look like he regretted it for one moment. Duril felt a different attraction toward the hirsute man than what he experienced in his feelings for Toru or Varg. The tigershifter had his heart whole, while Varg had all his trust. In Claw, Duril found a companion who would be just as likely to be caught lost in thought as playing around with childish pleasure. What lay under that broad forehead interested Duril the most. Having lived the longest of them all, even if most of his years had been spent underground, fighting for survival every single day, the bear was bound to be the wisest of them all.
That was what fascinated Duril to no end, just like he often fell enraptured by books and old scrolls. Asking the right questions, however, had evaded him so far. He knew Claw had to know many things, but he had no idea where to start.
“My heart fills with joy,” Claw offered his reply, after taking a few moments to examine the winding road ahead.
The Quiet Woods stood tall in the distance, so different from everything else around them and what they had encountered in their journey so far. Even the air started smelling differently, and Duril felt a pleasant sensation coursing through his entire body from his head to toes.
Of course, as close as they seemed to be, The Quiet Woods would still require them to walk until nightfall to reach them. Even so, Claw showed no sign that he was impatient to get there, like anyone else would feel in the same circumstances, with home in view.
The roots of that calm, that was what Duril wanted to learn from Claw. They must be the result of what the bearshifter had lived through for so many decades, locked as he had been under the house of merchants in Shroudharbor.
“You want to ask me something,” Claw said and smiled broadly while taking him by the shoulders.
“It’s true. Although I don’t know how to do it.”
“Why? You can ask me anything.”
Duril hesitated for a moment.
“Come on, master healer,” Claw teased him and kissed him on the ear. “We don’t keep many secrets in our group, do we?”
“It’s true. I just want to know… how did you keep your wits about you while you were roaming that labyrinth in which the merchants had locked you? Only the thought of being alone for so long makes me tremble in fear.”
“It wasn’t always easy. At first, I was mad and the wrath consumed me. No, not in the sense that it made me mad, but that it sapped all my vitality. Soon enough, I learned what a horrible punishment hunger can be.”
“Toru would agree with it. I don’t think that many things scare him, but that would.”
Claw nodded. “As I realized that finding a way out wouldn’t happen as I wished it, I began finding my way around. I started searching for food, all my wits invested in it. Can you believe me when I say that I knew exactly how many paces a tiny lizard found in the cracks would keep me on my feet?”
Duril shook his head slowly. “That must have been so horrible. All the more you are to be admired for keeping your mind sane through all of it. Weaker people would have given up right away. And you lasted for so long.”
“You may wonder what gave me power,” Claw stated.
“I must say that, yes, I do wonder.”
Claw gestured at The Quiet Woods, waiting for them still some miles away. “I was born in a blessed place. I had everything growing up and later as a young man. Of my own accord I went to Shroudharbor, and I made mistakes of my own. But, in that darkness, while I was keeping my ears wide open to catch the slightest scratching in the many cracks in the walls and floor, which for me equaled eating for the day, I was also wide-eyed dreaming about the most delicious foods I used to eat back home. And every day or night, since I couldn’t tell the passing of days, I made a promise that I would get back and I would see the place and my friends again.”
“You are an amazingly strong shifter, Claw.”
“If that’s the case, I keep good company,” Claw offered gallantly in reply.
Duril admired the manly face for a few more moments. “You and Varg have been marked by Cha’da so that you can find the secret well in the heart of the forest. Have you ever heard of things such as these?”
“Do you mean secrets?”
“Yes.”
“As children, we listened to many fairytales. It wouldn’t be farfetched at all to believe that there are secrets buried in the heart of The Quiet Woods. With so many things happening to us lately, nothing strikes me as odd anymore.”
“And yet, no one, ever, stumbled over this secret well?” Duril asked the question without expecting an answer and mostly to himself. “The oracle might not know about someone having done that.”
“All is possible,” Claw agreed. “Yet, it’s the clue we have for now.”
He seemed lost in thought again. Maybe his mind was taking him to the many secrets of The Quiet Woods that no one, so far, had uncovered.
***
Toru was the most excited to arrive at their destination and it was something he couldn’t keep in. Sensing his state of agitation, Claw offered to take him on his back and together, ran in front, leaving Varg and Duril behind. As much as he loved his lover’s food, he could barely wait to try some of the many meats they cooked so well over a fire here in The Quiet Woods.
They were advancing through the undergrowth at the speed of Claw’s paws, which was very fast compared to everyone Toru knew in the world. It was already late in the night, but neither of them had wanted to stop and delay getting there.
The forest was as beautiful as he remembered, all the trees shining faintly with dozens of fireflies, which made it easier for anyone to find their way around. Even if they didn’t need it since they were capable of seeing in the dark, it made their surroundings look welcoming.
“Shearah must have made many creatures to resemble her when she was Lighty,” Toru concluded for himself.
“Hush, she might hear you,” Claw warned him.
“I’m not scared of her,” Toru retorted.
“Maybe you should be.” A voice like silver bells came from one of the trees.
“Lighty!” Toru shouted. “Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted. We’re going to wake everybody up.”
Much to his surprise, Shearah descended on his shoulder in the shape of a lightning bug and shook her little wings, making a buzzing sound. “I believe your coming back warrants their waking up, nonetheless. Claw, Toru, why are you here?” She sounded as enthusiastic as he felt inside. “But where are the others? Varg? Duril?” A smidge of worry crept into her voice.
“They’re right behind us,” Claw assured her. “We were just too impatient to get here, and thus we ran ahead and arrived first.”
“Have you been to Scercendusa already? It feels like only yesterday we said goodbye.”
“We were, and we defeated Hekastfet,” Toru said with pride. “The evil is no more.” Just as he said the words, the shard in his shoulder flared with pain. He grunted and shook his arm. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to ask Shearah what she knew about nameless messengers and the shards of evil.
“You did? I’m so proud of you. I did listen to the winds, and some told me that the walls of the city were no more. I didn’t know what to make of it.”
“It’s quite the tale,” Claw said. “I will leave Toru to you, as I have some bears to pull out of their beds. I can bet they’re snoring the loudest, and I can guide myself by the horrendous sounds they make.”
Toru didn’t try to stop Claw, as he was sure the bear was more than eager to see his friends again. Also, he had to admit that he appreciated how he was left alone to tell Shearah about what had happened in Scercendusa, and how Hekastfet was destroyed. He touched his shoulder again.
“Do you remember how you told us about the domestikos?” he began.
Shearah descended from his shoulder and turned into the young witch he also knew well. She captured a few shiny bugs out of the air and placed them in a small lamp which she hung from the low branch of a tree. Her kind face was the same, as was the large smile she offered him. “I do. Did you get an audience with him? Tell me everything.”
“You wouldn’t believe it, Lighty,” Toru said while puffing out his chest. “That old man actually had Hekastfet, the evil of all evils, inside him!”
Shearah gasped. “He did? That must be how he managed to stay in power for so long.”
Toru smiled. He had so many things to say, about the city, the Sakka, and all the astonishing things they had seen and done while in Scercendusa.
***
When they arrived at The Quiet Woods, the entire place was up and bustling about, clearly getting ready for celebrations.
“It looks like our friends didn’t wait a moment to wake everyone up,” Varg said and chuckled.
“It’s not every day that you return home a champion,” Duril said and laughed as well.
“By now, everyone must know an embellished version of what happened in Scercendusa.” Varg couldn’t suppress a smile, as much as he wanted to.
Sprouts of Vrannes rolled by them, making their usual strange sounds.
“Do you understand what they’re saying?” Varg asked. “And look at how many there are!”
“They’re just very happy to see us,” Duril explained. “They’re the youngest as far as I can tell. That means their vocabulary is rather limited.”
The glade where they were guided by the excited sprouts was full to the brim. Claw was between his best friends, Beast and Willow, and they were both plying him with the contents of a small barrel. Many others were already cooking, their faces lit up with glee and anticipation of a feast.
What Varg noticed, however, was how Toru was nowhere in sight. That was highly unusual, with the smell of food preparations rising in the crisp night air. Claw waved for them to come near, and Beast and Willow didn’t spare any hugs, making sure they knew they had been missed.
“Where is Toru?” Varg asked.
“I left him with Shearah, eager as he was to tell her all about Scercendusa and our adventures there,” Claw explained.
Varg nodded and walked in the direction the bearshifter indicated. He was curious to see what the witch of The Quiet Woods had to say about the scattered shards. She listened to the wind, so maybe she had heard something from other places throughout Eawirith.
Toru was sitting on a log, by Shearah’s side, confiding in her with an intense look on his face.
“Am I interrupting you?” he asked.
“No, come here, Varg,” Toru said. “I was telling Shearah about how the Sakka suspected that someone stole the words and knowledge from their book, and how that someone could be Te’cla the hermit.”
“You are telling me such astonishing things,” Shearah said, with unhidden wonder in her voice. “You’ve come back as heroes, but you have the call of the road still lit like a torch inside your souls.”
“Toru wants to find the place where he was born, where he lived as a child with his parents.”
“A noble quest,” Shearah agreed.
Varg traded a glance with Toru. Had he told her about the shards? By the way he touched his shoulder, it didn’t look like it.
“Other stranger things happened to us while on the road here,” he began.
Toru nodded in encouragement for Varg to talk about the stranger and the shard that now lived inside his shoulder.
“What do you know about the night when the moon disappeared from the skies?” Varg asked directly.
Shearah looked at him, her eyes conveying compassion. “We all thought that your battle against evil was reaching its apex. We prayed for you.”
“That happened after,” Varg said.
Shearah’s eyes grew wide with confusion. “After?”
“Yes. After. And although Toru defeated Hekastfet, it looks like there are still traces of evil in the world. Toru, show it to her.”
Toru didn’t protest for a moment and pushed his shirt off his shoulder. Shearah moved near and looked at the shard pulsing faintly under his skin. “What is it?” she asked, sucking in a breath. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It absorbs all light… or does it reject it?”
“On our way here, we got in a bit of a kerfuffle with a pack of young wolves,” Varg started. “They were held in the tight grip of a nameless witch, and she was the one responsible for stealing the moon from the skies.”
“A nameless witch? But how could she be so powerful?”
“According to a messenger that also declined to tell us his name, she found this shard you see embedded in Toru’s shoulder and tried to use it for her own gain.”
“She was very weak, so she messed it up,” Toru added. “And we were there. We freed the pack, and there was also this human girl Hesaia, who knew how to make a potion that would make the witch spit the shard. We didn’t know that at the time because that old man speaking weirdly like Demophios happened in our path after we left.”
“A nameless messenger, you say.” Shearah nodded slowly, as if there were something to be understood from that particular detail.
“Have you ever heard of anyone like that?” Toru asked. “He was very old and trembling like a rickety chair. And he could barely hold on to the shard until I took it from him.”
“The shard turned into ash in Toru’s palm, and then appeared under his skin,” Varg explained further. “Have you ever heard the wind telling you about such strange things? This nameless messenger was quite certain that there are many other shards scattered throughout the world.”
“I have heard of nameless messengers before,” Shearah said slowly. “They are, usually, harbingers of death, and they shouldn’t touch any living thing as they can turn anything into nothing but dust.”
“He didn’t seem interested in touching either of us,” Varg said. “However, he was quite adamant about giving Toru the shard, and we didn’t know if he was good or evil.”
“If they went through such hardship to bring the shard to Toru, I doubt their intention was to harm you.”
“But he looked so weak,” Toru argued. “How can an old man like that cause any harm?”
“These nameless messengers are a lot more powerful than they look,” Shearah began. “I will tell you what I know about them, and then you can pick from my story what you may find of use. I was barely a whisper in the wind when I caught a rumor about a place where the sun never shines and the wind never blows. As young as I was, I wanted to see it.”
“But how could you go there if the wind didn’t travel to that place?” Toru asked.
Shearah offered them a secretive smile. “The Quiet Woods are like no other. Combine the right sap with the dew that forms on the right flower, and you can become as light as a ghost and as invisible as a terror of the night.”
Toru shivered and grimaced. “Why would anyone want to drink such a potion? I bet it’s pretty bitter, too.”
“Yes, it actually is,” Shearah agreed and laughed. “I knew of this potion and thought that I could fool whatever guarded that place against the sun and wind.”
“Did you succeed?” Toru asked impatiently.
“Yes, and for a while after I wish I never had.” Shearah remained pensive for some time. “I was young and easier to impress than I thought. But, I had every right to be impressed, and that’s not the correct word to describe the dread I experienced when I snuck inside that cave and witnessed the nameless messengers, as everyone calls them.”
Varg sat on the grass, crossing his legs and observing Shearah with keen eyes. He had never heard of such messengers before, and now they had the opportunity to hear about them from someone who had seen them.
“They were all very old, gathered around a black fire burning in the middle of the cave,” Shearah continued.
“How does a black fire burn?” Toru asked.
Varg had to admit to himself that he was just as curious as the young tiger.
“There is no flame to speak of. Not in the sense that we know. It coils and smokes, but even that is denser and different from what you can see rising above any fire.”
“What need do they have for a black fire, these nameless messengers?” Toru asked again.
“As I sat there, hidden from view, they started reciting an incantation. It wasn’t in any language I knew. Even now, I don’t understand the meaning of their words. But it had to be their purification magic at work.”
“What were they purifying?” Toru demanded.
“They might seem evil to everyone who has ever heard of them or seen them, but they are nameless and their touch is deadly because they deal with the scourging of the world. That is their purpose in life.”
“They purify evil,” Varg concluded.
“Yes,” Shearah agreed. “I got to their cave while they were in the middle of such a ritual. I had no idea at the time what they were doing. One of them carried what looked like a bundle of clothes and circled the black fire while singing something akin to a lullaby. ‘Could it be that they had a baby there?’ I asked myself, already feeling like my very soul was being crushed under the weight of that strange song.”
“Was it a baby?” Toru asked in disbelief.
Shearah shook her head. “No. When the old man holding the bundle began to unwrap it, a dozen snakes fell from it. They slithered their way to the black fire and burned in it, crying out like tortured souls. My heart was gripped by fear and I couldn’t move. That is saying a lot coming from someone who’s just a fragment of a wind.
“Each of the men there proceeded to circle the fire carrying something, singing a different song every time. And each time, some horrendous creature or more fell to the ground and dragged themselves to the fire only to perish with anguished cries.
“With each of those dark sacrifices, my soul grew weaker and more restless. I wanted to leave, and yet I couldn’t. I wanted to close my eyes and prevent them from witnessing all that pain, and they refused to close. The shouts of pain reached me and stabbed my heart over and over. I wanted it to stop.”
“Why was that happening?” Toru whispered. “But if those old men were there to purify evil, they can’t be all bad, right?”
“I will tell you shortly. At one point, as one of the nameless messengers was conducting his ritual, the creature he was holding began to struggle and escaped before he could prevent it. It was a giant lizard, with a dark red forked tongue. It climbed the wall where I was hidden in a crevice and began pushing its tongue inside, bent on devouring me. How it could sense that I was there, I don’t know. But that caused the old men to discover me. I was no longer hidden from their view.”
“Did they try to purify you, too?” Toru asked.
“Fortunately for me, they didn’t have to. I was crying inside my crevice, as the lizard was pushing its foul tongue to get me. With each attempt, it was getting near, and I could sense its breath, heavy like smoke, and its spit, falling like tar.”
“If you were just a fragment of the wind, what could it do to you?” Toru was rightfully curious.
“It could gorge on her life source,” Varg explained in Shearah’s stead. “I’ve heard of such creatures, bent on devouring everything in their path. Yet, it is not only flesh that they devour, but souls, and that is what makes them all the more horrid.”
Shearah nodded. “You are right, master wolf. And I was about to be eaten by that giant lizard. If it had happened, the nameless messengers would have had to purify my tainted soul, too. In other words, they would have had to put me through the black fire and make me disappear.
“However, that is not what happened. I was lucky. They caught the lizard and forced it into the fire. And then, they commanded me to come forward from my hiding place.”
“Did they try to purify you, then?” Toru asked.
“They might have had a mind to punish me properly for it, at least at first. They were dismayed that I could circumvent their barrier and find my way inside. They talked for a while, indecisive as to what to do with me. In the meantime, I felt dead rather than alive. It seemed I could only move when they commanded me to, and that says something about their powers, right?”
“They obviously let you go, since you are here talking with us,” Varg said with a small smile.
“They did, but they gave me a lesson to take away with me. They explained that the barrier they put exists for a reason. During the process of purifying all the evil they find, they become tainted. And not only them, so does their entire cave, even the air inside. They need to keep it contained so that it wouldn’t spread and wreak havoc in the world. It appears that only because I was so tiny and invisible on top of it all that I had managed to get through. They told me that they couldn’t touch me to throw me outside, so I had to do it myself.”
“That could have gone a lot worse,” Varg commented.
“It could,” Shearah agreed.
“If those old men purify evil, do you think they tried to purify the shard and couldn’t?” Toru wanted to know.
Shearah nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. And if you say the nameless messenger could barely hold onto the shard, that must mean that its power was too great even for them, who deal with evil all the time.”
“Are they truly nameless?” Varg asked.
“I did wonder about that for a while,” Shearah replied with a nod of the head. “I believe it is more likely no one is allowed to say their name for risk of being swallowed by evil.”
“Just like Hekastfet’s name,” Toru remembered. “How come they can be evil and good at the same time? I mean, not that they want to be untouchable and all that.”
“That is, indeed, a question for the ages,” Shearah said with a small smile. “Just as they’re neither dead, nor alive. They simply exist and their purpose on the face of Eawirith is this: to purify all the evil they can find.”
“And yet, they couldn’t purify the shard they gave me,” Toru pointed out.
If that was a reason to worry for his friends, no such concern showed on the young tiger’s face. No, Varg mused while taking in the handsome face, if anything, Toru only felt eagerness to learn more about what he had to do and how to do it.
“It surely appears so,” Shearah said. “It could be that it wasn’t by chance that your feet brought you here so that you could learn from me a little more about these messengers.”
“Very few things appear to happen by chance,” Varg voiced one of his inner musings of late.
“I am still the maker of my destiny. That old man only wanted to help me, I’m sure,” Toru said stubbornly.
“They want to help Eawirith,” Shearah said, “but yes, that also means that they want to help you since it is not in their power to rid the world of these shards of evil.”
“I will discover my answers from the hermit,” Toru said with determination. “He will know about the shards, gobbler of knowledge that he is.”
“What gobbler of knowledge?” Shearah asked, moving her large eyes from Varg to Toru and back again, as if she intuitively knew that he was the one who must have heard about that particular thing first.
“Claw has this gift, it seems,” Varg explained. “Oracles and whatnot can summon him as they see fit to communicate important messages through him.”
“That must be a well-guarded secret of his,” Shearah said. “I didn’t know. What oracle did he visit last? Did he take all of his friends with him?”
“No, just Varg, because Claw likes him so much,” Toru said.
Shearah giggled at that, something that made her sound like a very young girl. “That must have been quite interesting. Then, master wolf, what is this thing about an oracle?”
“Her name is Cha’da, and she knows the hermit by name. He is called Te’cla, and, according to his old acquaintance, in the process of learning the secret ways of the world, he became so voracious and possessive of the knowledge acquired that he turned rogue.”
“He can steal anything,” Toru added. “Like the words from the Sakka’s book about Nelsikkar.”
Shearah seemed to ponder over these revelations. “Little is known about the hermit living atop The Scarlet Peaks. All that you’re telling me right now is new. In the light of it, is it wise to travel to see the hermit? He might just want to steal from Toru everything he knows about how he defeated Hekastfet, and who knows what else?”
“He’s not our first choice,” Varg said. “There is actually a very specific reason why we came here, not just to rest and get provisions before heading to The Scarlet Peaks. Cha’da, the oracle, told us other things, such as the presence of a secret well in the heart of The Quiet Woods.”
“A secret well?” Shearah’s curiosity was piqued, as her large eyes turned even larger. “I do not know of one. This forest doesn’t keep any secrets from me.”
“It appears that it might have just one,” Varg said. The corners of his lips quirked at the look of surprise on the young witch’s face. “She marked Claw and I so that we are able to find it. According to her, we will be able to travel to the other side of the mountain and find Niverborg if we choose to go through the well.”
“Niverborg?” Shearah asked slowly. “The name rings somewhat familiar.”
“That is where Toru’s father, Aneros, came from.”
“The white tiger.” It looked like Toru had had the time with share with the young witch the details of his father’s contribution to their victory. “Niverborg must be a cold place. Are there still tigers there?”
“We hope so. If we find anyone, we will ask them about Nelsikkar and how to get there.”
“And yet, I will still have to go see the hermit,” Toru added. “How am I going to recognize the evil shards without someone to tell me about them? Since he knows everything in the world, he must know about the shards, too.”
“It is true,” Varg admitted, “that we only found this shard because the nameless messenger gave it to Toru. Although, we were already wondering how a weak witch such as the mistress of the marshes could have harnessed the power required to drag the moon goddess from her rightful place.”
“We would have been left wondering if it weren’t for that old man,” Toru said with conviction. “Maybe, as they purify the evil they find in the world, they will find others and bring them to me?”
“We can hardly count on that,” Varg pointed out. “Shearah confirmed that it had to be with great difficulty that the old man had brought the shard with him. You thought the same.”
Toru fell pensive for a bit. “That is true. It means that I’ll either find the shards myself, or I will travel to see the hermit so that he can tell me all about them, how to find them and everything else.”
It was one of the traits Varg loved about Toru with a passion. He was not the hesitating kind. Picking a path, and the right one at that, wasn’t a struggle for him, like it was for others with weaker hearts.
“Should we join the feast now?” he asked, as he noticed the silence stretching between them.
Shearah would surely meditate on the possibility that The Quiet Woods had secrets she was yet to uncover. Toru was already engulfed by the task awaiting him. But, before that, it was the right time for a feast and a little bit of joy.
So, he offered Toru his hand, and they both waved Shearah goodbye for the time being.
TBC
Comments
Laura S. Fox
Thank you, Margaret! However, I now realize that I should have said that all the images are AI-generated, so my only 'artistic' input was to find the right words to tell the AI what to do :)
MM
The illustrations are beautiful. You are indeed a very talented artist with words and with the partings as well
Laura S. Fox
Thank you, Margaret! (Please check the chapter again, as I added a couple of pics to illustrate the story better)
MM
Ohh I’m living this. You weave wonderful stories Laura!
