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To Court the Fèidh

Chapter Seven

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

5th October, 2021

All Rights Reserved.

Alexander roughly saddled Feya, who skittishly danced around, picking up on her masters distress. When he was finished, he leapt up into the saddle – without using the stirrups and savagely snapped the reins on her neck.

Feya squealed, tossed her head and bolted, fuelled partially by her masters rage and partially by her fear. They galloped across the drawbridge and through the township, scattering peasants with reckless abandon. Blasting across the outer gates drawbridge, Feya squealed and skidded as Alexander snapped her head to the left then applied his spurs to her flanks.

She was trained as a war horse, descended from proud, strong and powerful bloodlines, but the pace he demanded of her strained even her mighty heart. At last, she could run no more and he found himself deep in the wood where he dismounted and stood trembling with suppressed rage and fear. Feya stood, panting and blowing hard, her muzzle and flanks wet with creamy sweat.

Dropping the reins, Alexander clenched his fingers into fists before he walked over to an ancient oak tree. Something elusive brushed his mind like a gentle spring breeze, right as he pulled his hand back to smash it against the oak.

Place your paw on its bark, feel the tree, feel its connection to the earth and the sky, let it take from you that which troubles you...

Shaking, Alexander squeezed his eyes closed, then using his teeth he pulled the gloves off and pressed both palms against the oak tree, splaying out fingers that ended in blunt, black hooflets.

For a few seconds, he felt foolish and stupid, then without warning, it happened. It was like a cool wave of water on a hot summers day at the beach. It washed over him from the tip of his ears down to his cloven hooves, It pushed the hatred, the rage, the anger – every negative feeling and emotion washed before it, down through the soles of his hooves and into the ground where it was dissipated harmlessly.

In its wake he felt calm, composed...at peace within and without.

“How...” Come the moan from his lips as he rested his head against the oak tree.

I gave to you, that which you needed most, peace of spirit and life, Fèidh brother.

“Who...who are you – what are you?” Alexander spoke, as he turned about and reached for his sword, then froze as he looked down at the silver hilt and shuddered.

I am that which was, is, and will be. I am the all and the nothing, the light and the dark. Some call me Gaia, some by other names and languages long since forgotten before even the Fèidh were born.

Frowning, Alexander sat on a log and rested his head in his paws.

“You are...a spirit of the wood? I remember in my studies...”

Of sorts – Come that voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

His leaf-like ear twitched and he gasped, as the world around him filled with noises his mind couldn't sort through. Scents sharp and strong, his vision even felt a thousand times sharper than normal and...

Easy Fèidh you'll overwhelm yourself and...

Alexander suddenly squealed, clutching his antlered head in his paws as his mind overloaded and with a final, piercing squeal, he fell sideways and collapsed to the ground, where he lay trembling and incoherent.

So it begins...

*

Tearfully, Fianna slowly got to her cloven hooves and she shuddered. Sickened by the backlash of the Fèidh magicks that had torn through her when she was exiled, she wondered if she could live without her bonds to not only her mother and father, but her clan – the whole Fèidh...

Child, hear me... Come a voice in her mind.

Fianna's eyes widened, as she flattened her ears and dropped to one knee, bowing her head and splaying her fingers on the ground.

“Lady Gaia, I am unworthy of your words - “ Fianna murmured.

I do not bear any ill will child, such is beneath me. I have need of you, as does one you know.

“The Hunter? I thought him lost to me and... oh Gaia, forgive your errant child, please! Why did I do what I done? I knew better, now it has taken everything from me because of my foolish pride and lustful desires! I knew what he was – I should have used my magicks...”

Fianna felt disappointment wash over her.

Child? Have you heard nothing in the years I have spoken with you? Such things are beneath me, I am aware and of everything, everywhere! Even you, a Fèidh, your lifespan is but a blink of my eye. Whilst I feel something for you, I am incapable of caring for just one creature. I am not uncaring and callous, I am both predator and prey to all my children! I can not take a moral stand for such would invalidate my existence as the aspect of Nature. Nature does not take sides, it can not. Even the humans, are my children...errant, headstrong, selfish and arrogant – yet I envision one day, they will truly become enlightened and peaceful.

“They....”

Yes, child, even them. As the Wheel turns, do the seasons. To me? It has been time beyond measure, and that much again lays before me. I can not predict your future, that of the Fèidh of that even of the great mountains themselves. Nor would I wish too! I watch, I wait, and I witness from the smallest of moments, to the most cataclysmic and even cosmic. I believe, in time, maybe a hundred years, maybe a thousand or more – they will change, for change is inevitable. Now, go to him, he is scared, hurting and alone – this is a traumatic time for him and he needs you more than you know.

“I – he hates me, he knows what I did to him, what I took from him...”

Trust in yourself, and in him. Go, child, go with my blessing and strength for you both.

*

“Human - “ Come a quiet voice, as something gently shook his shoulder.

With a feral snarl, Alexander went from unconsciousness to awake, his right paw grabbing the one who touched him and he squeezed down with enough force to crush human bones to powder – but all he got was a sharp intake of breath and a shudder.

His eyes snapped open and he found himself staring up at Fianna who knelt beside him.

“You!” He snarled.

Fianna winced and let his anger wash over her, refusing to give into it, as she stared into his eyes and placed a paw on his chest, over his heart.

“Hear me, please...” She spoke, quietly and calmly. “That which I done – I can not ask for your forgiveness, for it would never be granted. I acted out of selfish, foolish pride, lust and above all – loneliness. I wanted a friend, a protector a...”

Her voice caught in her throat, as she sniffled and turned her head away.

Angry, he glared at her, his hatred rising by the second.

“So, that's all I was to you? Some human you decided to take and force yourself on? Then out of some misguided or intentional whim, you turned me! Took from me my very humanity...for what? Hoping I'd turn from my former life and embrace you? Did you even think of the consequences for me?”

With a supreme effort, Fianna swallowed the savage retort that threatened to spill forth and she sniffled, his words cutting worse than any weapon could.

“I was punished for that which I did – I accept and acknowledge that. It was my arrogance, my youthful indiscretion and my lack of self control, that brought us together. I am yours, deal with me as your heart demands, my transgressions has cost me everything I have nothing left I am nothing....”

Gently, she stood up and then knelt, her head bowed and arms clasped before her. Fuelled by rage, Alexander rose and tugged on the kidskin gloves, before he drew his silver sword with a hiss from its scabbard. Taking a two handed grip on it was awkward with his paws and hooflets – but he managed, raising it to one side as he stood beside her – her furred neck exposed and vulnerable.

With a savage snarl, he brought the sword slashing down...

*

Waking from a nap, the Arch-Magi snorted awake and he drew his powers to him, as something elusive flickered in his mind. Concentrating, he used his phenomenal memory to retrace his mental thought processes and replayed words and even body language of the two guardsmen.

Speed beyond human normality? They said he unsheathed his sword and moved like a summer lightning strike – faster than they could see...

Rising, he made his way through the keep and down to the dungeons. Taking a torch from a sconce, he walked down the cells until he stopped at the one the Therian had been contained within. At his spoken word, the gate swung open with a creak and he stepped into the narrow room.

It had been cleaned, but for one such as him, it would be nothing to reveal its s secrets. Lifting the torch up over his head, he spoke a short series of words and the cell shimmered as magicks filled it.

He seen the scene as clearly as if he himself had been there. At his whim, the scene played out and he watched with interest. Replaying it again, then again, but much slower, his eyes first widened, then narrowed into rage fuelled slits as he slowed it a third time.

“Spirit of the damned, hear me and obey!” He snapped sharply. “I call forth the spirit of the beast that was slain here! Come forth and obey my demand!”

After a few seconds, a ghostly image formed – appearing as an ethereal spirit that screamed silently in agony.

“Be silent spirit! I have neither the desire nor the patience to hear your pitiful bleating! Your soul will suffer an eternity in whatever darkness of the Great Void beyond, awaits your godless kind!”

Forced to comply, it dropped to its knees, but shook with the agony that consumed it. Being dragged back like this was a fate worse than death itself, for the spirit of the Therian.

“Obey me!” He snapped at it. “Show me what your saw in your last moments beast!”

It fought against him with everything it had, but he merely smiled and exerted his will until the Therian screamed and thrashed on the ground.

“Show me now, so you might return to the Great Void!”

It obeyed – it was helpless not too...

Through its eyes, the Arch-Magi seen what the Therian had seen. It was terrified – not for its life – no...

It wasn't a human that wielded that blade that cut the Therian's head from its shoulders...

In its last seconds, it had stared horrified at a nearly seven foot tall anthropomorphic stag – dressed in the armour of the Order, a feral snarl on its furred muzzle as it swung the sword...

A Therian? Come the thoughts of the Arch-Magi. How could...no...tell me spirit, I command and control you, tell me that which you know and speak quickly!

“Not...Therian - “ Come the choking voice of the Therian's spirit. “Please, release me!”

Exerting himself, the Arch-Magi tightened his grip on the Therian's spirit, drawing pleasure from its suffering.

“I will not ask you again...”

“Please!” Shrieked the Therian. “Not...Therian...a... something...greater!”

Eyes wide, the Arch-Mage stared incredulously – yet he knew the spirit could not lie.

“Show me spirit, what did you see!”

“Please!”

Forcing his will again, the Arch-Magi's eyes widened in horror as the Therian saw what had killed it,,,

It was an anthropomorphic stag, dressed in the Order's robes, wielding in two paws, the sword that had taken its life.

Shocked, the Arch-Magi reeled backwards. His mind flashed through countless creatures the Order had hunted and put to the sword until at last one image surfaced in his mind

“Please! Release me unto my true death!” Pleaded the Therian.

With a cruel smile, the Arch-Mage nodded.

“You shall receive your reward beast...”

“I...no...no!” It screamed, as he Arch-Mage stepped forwards, his fingers locking around the Spirit's furred neck, then wrenching it towards him.

His other hand, hidden in the sleeve of his robe, come forth holding a ebony coloured crystal which he held up. At his command, the Spirit was absorbed into the crystal, its terrified shrieks ringing through the cell block before fading away...

Slipping the crystal into a belt pouch, the Arch-Mage stood in silence, his great mind churning and plotting.

Summoning his magicks again, he recreated the final scene, freezing it as he walked around the ghostly stag, examining it closely from every possible angle he could.

Indeed, the spirit had spoken truth...

This is no Therian...

To Be Continued...