Tweet
Leckith knelt in the moist, mossy grass, the pre-morning dew soaking straight through his light cotton clothing to his knees, a comforting link to the earth below him. His hands joined his knees on the floor, and he touched the wet blades of grass lightly, feeling the earth's energies and the connection inherent to his race. He felt the pain of the forest, the whispers of the woodland spirits of invaders, in fearful hushed tones. Pictures of undeath and destruction raced through his open mind, and he placed all his weight firmly on his hands, the overwhelming sensations failing his balance. The images changed from what had already passed, to what the spirits feared was to come.
Images of destructive fire, purging of spirits, death, destruction and pain. People screamed and ran, and a great stag lay bleeding and dying on the ground, its life blood fleeing it as its wild eyes rolled in fear of the inevitable end. Birds flocked in their thousands away from the destruction, only to be cruelly shot from the air by viscious barbed bolts, fired by the invaders, the whole scene soaked in evil. A rabbit struggled and twitched out the final ebbing vestiges of strength, sapped by a spiked snare, not only an implement of death, but of torture. Creatures great and small, who usually concealed themselves, either from men or the sun, were torn from their places of hiding, reminding just how dense the life of the forest truly was, and at once destroying that knowledge in the genocidal display.
Leckith's body was wracked with sobbing at the images, the pain of what he witnessed destroying what resolve he had left.
"Dimenin..." His mind reached out to that veil that even his powerful spiritual powers could not cross. "If only you were here, Dimenin." He clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the grass tightly, digging grooves into the soft earth beneath. "I would know what to do. And I would have the strength to face what comes."
As the images subsided the spirits calmed around him, safe in the knowledge that their chosen knew what they feared, and would help them. Leckith did not feel nearly so optimistic. Spirits were like children at times, content in the knowledge that someone was there to protect them. And like a concerned parent, he did not betray his doubts to them, allowing them to continue in their false comfort. Resia however, was not so easily fooled. She knew just what his fears were, and remained in concerned silence.
"Silvanus." His voice came through strong with perceived conficence. "Much as I do not pray often to you, I am at a loss. I have ever been your servant, and done your bidding, though our motivations may sometimes differ, we ever strive to meet the same ends. As your humble servant I beseech you now. Hear my prayer.
"Invaders of my most hated enemies, the dead three have come into our forest. They have taken over a human settlement there, a military outpost. You may already know of these things, but the forest cries out in fear. Their presence here is like an infection, and if we do not treat it now, it will spread and with it will come the destructive fires, and death is all they will leave in their wake.
"But more than this... I have a personal vendetta to bring to climax. My wife, Dimenin, was taken from me by Banites, lord of the forest, and my newborn baby child. He would have been a year old now. I beg you, lord, grant me the strength of the forest to bring my righteous fury down on the deads of these invaders. May the forest itself rise up against these invaders, lord, united we will stand against this intrusion! The creatures of the forest are its army, and the maze of trees will not make way for them! Let them become lost and hopeless in this natural maze, and sap their strength and will before they are fed on by the beasts of the forest themselves. Turn the tables, my lord, and allow me, your servant to wield the power of the woods to smash these destroyers like waves against the rock!"
For many hours, Leckith did not move. His prayer repeated, over and over, unsure of exactly how one contacted the Gods, and not wanting to get lost amidst the din they surely heard, not unlike his own connection to the spirit realm. After he felt sure he had been heard, Leckith finally rose, his fingers numb and throbbing with cold, having been embedded in the earth for so long. Tired and drained, he made his way back to the grove for reverie.
Images of destructive fire, purging of spirits, death, destruction and pain. People screamed and ran, and a great stag lay bleeding and dying on the ground, its life blood fleeing it as its wild eyes rolled in fear of the inevitable end. Birds flocked in their thousands away from the destruction, only to be cruelly shot from the air by viscious barbed bolts, fired by the invaders, the whole scene soaked in evil. A rabbit struggled and twitched out the final ebbing vestiges of strength, sapped by a spiked snare, not only an implement of death, but of torture. Creatures great and small, who usually concealed themselves, either from men or the sun, were torn from their places of hiding, reminding just how dense the life of the forest truly was, and at once destroying that knowledge in the genocidal display.
Leckith's body was wracked with sobbing at the images, the pain of what he witnessed destroying what resolve he had left.
"Dimenin..." His mind reached out to that veil that even his powerful spiritual powers could not cross. "If only you were here, Dimenin." He clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the grass tightly, digging grooves into the soft earth beneath. "I would know what to do. And I would have the strength to face what comes."
As the images subsided the spirits calmed around him, safe in the knowledge that their chosen knew what they feared, and would help them. Leckith did not feel nearly so optimistic. Spirits were like children at times, content in the knowledge that someone was there to protect them. And like a concerned parent, he did not betray his doubts to them, allowing them to continue in their false comfort. Resia however, was not so easily fooled. She knew just what his fears were, and remained in concerned silence.
"Silvanus." His voice came through strong with perceived conficence. "Much as I do not pray often to you, I am at a loss. I have ever been your servant, and done your bidding, though our motivations may sometimes differ, we ever strive to meet the same ends. As your humble servant I beseech you now. Hear my prayer.
"Invaders of my most hated enemies, the dead three have come into our forest. They have taken over a human settlement there, a military outpost. You may already know of these things, but the forest cries out in fear. Their presence here is like an infection, and if we do not treat it now, it will spread and with it will come the destructive fires, and death is all they will leave in their wake.
"But more than this... I have a personal vendetta to bring to climax. My wife, Dimenin, was taken from me by Banites, lord of the forest, and my newborn baby child. He would have been a year old now. I beg you, lord, grant me the strength of the forest to bring my righteous fury down on the deads of these invaders. May the forest itself rise up against these invaders, lord, united we will stand against this intrusion! The creatures of the forest are its army, and the maze of trees will not make way for them! Let them become lost and hopeless in this natural maze, and sap their strength and will before they are fed on by the beasts of the forest themselves. Turn the tables, my lord, and allow me, your servant to wield the power of the woods to smash these destroyers like waves against the rock!"
For many hours, Leckith did not move. His prayer repeated, over and over, unsure of exactly how one contacted the Gods, and not wanting to get lost amidst the din they surely heard, not unlike his own connection to the spirit realm. After he felt sure he had been heard, Leckith finally rose, his fingers numb and throbbing with cold, having been embedded in the earth for so long. Tired and drained, he made his way back to the grove for reverie.