The Escape

Late Summer, Year 755 of the New Age
Silverthorne, Silverwood

+1 magic (picture) +1 speed (story)

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The dream had been disturbing. A pale light flickering out, only to allow a deep, endless pitch black to swallow the helpless fawnling completely. The air was thick, just like the darkness, oozing into her mouth and nostrils to strangle her, preventing any desperate cries to escape her throat. It crept on, agonizingly slowly down her windpipe, into her lungs. Panicked, wide eyes were on the verge of rolling back forever and accepting defeat when something snapped her awake. A graceful head rose swiftly from the spongy moss in the sheltered den Erulissë and her mother, Verya, called home. It was late summer in the Silverwood and the usual nighttime sounds echoed throughout the still forest. The rhythmic chirping of crickets, an occasional hoot from an owl on the prowl or the sing-song croaks of the small tree frogs as they serenaded their mates were all her large, white tufted ears could pick up.

Big, liquid brown eyes shifted over to see that her mother still slept peacefully beside her. The dapples scattered across her dark belly rising and falling in the steady pace of one who slumbered deeply. Her long, creamy mane and tail were splayed out in silky tendrils around her body, contrasting, even in the dim light, with her darker coat. The younger, slate colored fawnling let out a deep sigh. Perhaps it was only the dream that had spooked her awake. Every night since they had taken her newborn daughter while she had been stricken heavily with fever and infection the nightmare had come. Depression and anger had overwhelmed her since then, feelings unaccustomed to her usually easygoing and gentle demeanor. Her body was still weak and her mind...still attempting to grasp what had come to pass.

Wariness from her rude awakening still kept her awake when, suddenly, something did fill her ears. Not the chirping of a nighthawk...nor the buzzing hum of some winged insect...but a shuffle, followed by another, and then a muted snap as if a hoof had crushed a small twig. "Mother....wake up..." A soft nose pushed nervously into the sleeping doe's side and she shifted, ears flicking as she woke to her daughter's anxious voice.

"Mother, I hea--" Before the words could escape a terrifyingly loud commotion of rustling and snapping limbs just outside had the frightened pair jolting to rise up in the small confines of their shared den.

"I've come to rid you of your demon....and your life, witch. You will shame us no longer." A deep, gravelly voice announced, and then the stag it belonged to stepped in front of the only opening to their humble sleeping place, the rest being surrounded by a tangle of roots and coarse underbrush. Breath seemed to catch in Erulissë's throat, shuttering to a stand-still as she took in the muscular, flaming red stag before her. His antlers spread wide, points blunt, but capable of impaling flesh in one thrust of his crested neck. She knew who he was...one of the guard...sent to kill her for her inability to perform the task brutally forced upon her... Suddenly feeling quite small and terrified beyond belief, her big, brown eyes simply widened even larger and all the young doe could do was watch as he advanced, ducking into their safe haven. Her clefted hooves felt as though they were secured to the soft moss that she and her mother slept on, invisible ties strapping her to the ground.

Her fearful mind blanked, and the likeness to her dream brought even more terror upon her.... This was the part where her eyes rolled back...forever... The darkness was closing in, and soon she would go to rest with Adhar at his temple in the sky. Acceptance of what was happening was flooding upon her as those dangerous tines stalked closer towards her throat, but suddenly, a hard jolt. Her hooves unbound themselves from the ground and she stumbled sideways only to see, with complete horror, her mother's elegant body thrown towards the stag, between her beloved only daughter and the buck sent to murder her upon the religious council's demand. "Eru, run!" She bleated desperately at the still petrified doe. She hesitated. How could she leave her mother?! How could she allow her to atone for the sins that were her own?

"FLY! NOW!" This time it was a stony demand as she pawed at the eyes of the red stag, blinding his vision just long enough for her daughter to squeeze past. As Erulissë fled the only home she'd ever known, she spared one last, desperate look back at her mother as her feminine form was tossed roughly to the ground by the guard. The terrifying dull thud of his hooves soon trailed closely after her as she squeezed into the densest underbrush she could find. As she ran, frantic breaths shuttering in and out of her throat, rubbing it raw, large sparks of white hot flames shot from her hooves, quickly catching fire to the dry, late summer brush.

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A glimpse into Eru's past.



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Art and Eru (c)
Fawnlings (c)

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