Book 1: Gospel : Cast Out

Book 1: Gospel

Chapter 11: Cast Out

Dark Hollow, Steelwilds, Fourth Age

“The wild does not exile the wounded—it crowns them. For the marrow remembers what the mind forgets, and in brokenness, the seed of knowing is planted.”

— Book of Roots, Ember Canticle

I tossed and turned in my bed next to Itza. Every time I would get easy and fall asleep, I would be visited by troubling dreams.

A black stag with ice blue eyes and glowing gold horns would come from the forest of surrounding the Inn. It would scoop up my wife in its horns and then head south out of my sight. I would try to pursue them and catch up, but would lose them every time. Several times I would wake up shivering and muttering in my sleep. Itza looking at me with concerned eyes. The Godspark bead pulsing faintly on her chest.

I had had enough. I got out of bed as quietly as I could trying not to disturb Itza, and made my way out to the courtyard of the inn. I saw my uncle sitting with his back against the trunk of the Blackwater Oak that had grown from a sapling to a mature tree in the matter of a couple weeks.

Tenshi ,who wasn’t much older than I was by Kitsune standards, heard me coming and turned to regard me with his keen blue eyes, “You are up late. I’m surprised that you were able to slip past my wife.”

I yawned and sat down beside him, “ I can’t sleep, Uncle. I keep having these weird dreams. The same one over and over again.”

He cocked his head, a trait handed over from his more pure Kitsune blood, “ Seems like the spirits are trying to tell you something. Tell me, have you ever tried to talk to them,”

I shook my head, “ No, sir, talking to the spirits is frowned upon by the clergy. They say that the Creator can hear and answer all prayers in his power if it is his will. They say to seek help or answer elsewhere is to spit on his work.”

Tenshi laughed picking a leaf from the oak and gently pulling the veins out of it, “ The Church today would probably cast out its founder if they knew half of what your grandfather did. Did you know he used to be able to call upon at least three spirits, four Primordials, and two Elementals by name, and they would come to his aid?”

I shook my head, “ No sir, I’ve never been able to see or hear much of what he or Gramma Ember wrote. They were both long dead before I was born, and Mama… Well, I haven’t seen her in years, not since the falling out.”

Tenshi nodded tossing away the crumpled remains of the leaf, “ Yes, I remember when she had a falling out with the more…. religious of your Aunts and Uncles. Her litter mates, Yoru and Kazumi, both keep in good contact with her I think.”

He stood up and stretched, “ That’s besides the point though. Stop trying to reach the Church’s perfection, and it will be so much easier for you to find the excellence of the Creator.”

He gestured for me to follow him out of the northern gate of the town, “ You are lucky, Zeke. I think I know of the black stag in your dreams. It’s time for you to put aside all the gilding and ornateness of religion, and finally get back to the raw beauty of what faith truly is.”

The northern road from Dark Hollow had never really seen any traffic, thus the wildlife had encroached on all but the thinnest of footpaths. We soon found ourselves surrounded by ironwood trees, silver glowing moonlight willows, and orange and red burning nightembers. The path was lined with bramble-maws, death blossoms, glimmer caps and all other sorts of flora. The spirit flies flitted from blossom to blossom, and other smaller creatures scurried about.

We crested the top of the hill and on the other side was a bowl shaped depression of soft corpseheather and black grass. Herds of cinder and mire stags milled about grazing in the moonlight.

In the center of the bowl was a copse of trees that seemed like they didn’t belong in the Steelwilds. A huge ancient bronze bark stood in the center holding court its yellow leaves sending sparks into the night sky. It was surrounded by several others: evergreen hackberry from the southern Boreal Reach, emerald vine from the Grovelands, rainbow trees from the Vanishing Isles, even a brass palm from the Sand Seas.

Standing at the edge not part of the Hollow, but more like a guardian stood a mature Blackwater Oak.
“Good, it took,” said Tenshi as we passed it, holding up a hand with a still raw wound, “for some reason it took more blood than usual to get it to sprout.”

He stopped and paused beneath the spread of its branches, “ The rest of the journey is up to you. Keep going and follow the path. Remember be respectful, but this Spirit does enjoy some levity.”

I smiled awkwardly and made my way into the thicket. As soon as I entered into the hollow, my mind started itching. My heart had begun to pick up pace and my breath grew shallow.
A flash, a male and female kitsune standing before a silver waterfall that splashed into several shallow pools. They moved together in an intimate way, and my stomach fluttered as if to say I should not be watching.
The vision faded.
I was again standing in the hollow.
A voice I felt more than heard beckoned me, “Deeper, kit of the Flame-Tail. How I long to see how the line of Fernweh is doing, and perhaps, once again, find true kinship with his den again.”

“ Who are you?” I called out, but no voice answered me. I walked further into the woods. My eyes began to strain against the shadowy darkness as the boughs wove together overhead. Once again, I found myself envious of my fuller blood kin and their more adept senses.

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, orbs of light no bigger than my fist began to drift by me. Most were yellow or pink. Others shone a light blue or green, and every now and then a faint purple. They all drifted further into the hollow.

My head ached and my ears rang. I grew sick to my stomach as another vision began to coalesce in my mind.
First I saw nothingness, then a silvery waterfall splashing into clear pools. Then orbs of all different colors began to swirl and dance on the surface of the waters. Over time as the trees grew taller and the waterfall cut deeper into the cliff side, a shape began to appear. It was a catfish of sorts but much larger and ethereal.
Then just as it had intruded on my mind, the image was gone.

“ Come further in, son of Flame-Tail,” said the voice , “ You have seen my beginning and the beginning of my story with your family. Now let us see the beginning of our tale.”

I stumbled into a large clearing. The giant bronze bark tree standing proud in the center of its court, and beneath its branches stood a glowing figure. Orbs danced and floated densely about it. I raised my hand in front of my face to block the radiance. When it finally faded, I lowered my hand to find a black stag standing beneath the boughs. The orbs of light lingered and danced in the branches above.
He stood there solid black curly fur, dull orange glowing antlers, and ice blue eyes. When he lowered his gaze from the treetops to meet my eyes, I felt the deepest conviction in my inmost being to bow to one knee.
My thoughts raced, “ Do I bow? You only kneel before the altar of the Creator! But this being….. this deer it FEELS like the Creator! Why does it feel like this? Why do I not know what to do?”

I dropped out of instinct to one knee and stayed there. My breath ragged and fast, my pulse hammering in my ears, “ What is this? Dammit, Tenshi! Did you bring me out here just to unravel everything I believe in and you hate?”

The stag slowly rose and approached me. I could hear his footsteps drawing nearer and nearer until I saw front hooves beneath my eyes. The knees bent, followed by his torso, and haunches. I lifted my head and found myself staring directly into those ice blue eyes.
“ You know, son of Flame-Tail,” it spoke to me or more rather rumbled in my mind, “ You grandfather actually summoned me by cursing and yelling for me to come up from my slumber.”
I blinked and just settled back onto my feet and then my rump. Rumbling and rolling, his laughter echoed through my mind.
“ I imagine it is a lot for you to take in, son of Flame-Tail. You grandfather was shocked as well, though maybe not quite so speechless.”

“Ezekiel,” I said finally finding my voice speaking out loud even though I could hear his voice in my head. “ I am Ezekiel Flame-Tail, GRAND son of Fernweh Flame-Tail.”

The stag bowed his head, “ Greetings, Ezekiel Flame-Tail, GRAND son of Fernweh and welcome to the Hollow of the Black Stag, Nairos of the Silverlight Falls.”

I looked at him a suspicious look upon my face, “ Silverlight of the Grovelands? So you are the catfish spirit that the vision showed me?”

“ One and the same” the stag turned to lick its haunch, “ You have questions?”

I just nodded. The spirit rumbled again in my head, “ Where shall I begin?”

“ The beginning Great Spirit Nairos of Silverlight the Black Stag of the Hollow.” I spat out fast and almost stuttering my whole body humming and vibrating with excitement and fear, “ I want to know EVERYTHING!”

The stag raised his head as far as his neck would stretch and gazed down upon me with those icy blue eyes, “ Everything? Little Ezekiel, that would be too much for any being to take in at one time. The only one to come close was your grandfather but even assuming divinity for a short time cost him much.”
Sadness seemed to creep into the spirit’s eyes, “Perhaps if he had split the load amongst his allies he would’ve lived to see and guide these two realms a little longer and in a different direction. I admit I had a part to play in that, but a boon pact must be answered especially by one such as he.”

“ What are you talking about?” I asked, the beast’s words still ringing in my ears , “ What do you mean by assuming divinity? No one can assume divinity! That is strictly the right of the Creator!”

I looked at him with sharp eyes, “ How do I know that you are not some demon or wicked tainted beast that is merely walking around with power stolen from the Light of Creation?”

“ ENOUGH OF YOUR RELIGIOUS INDOCTRINATION AND DRIBBLE!” the voice tore through my head and through the hollow like a thunderstorm condensed into just this small of an area, “ who are you to claim that what has existed only a handful of decades supersedes the truth that has existed beyond ages? What do you know of the Creator, you who have never seen Him or his embrace with your own two eyes? Were you aware when he took the very essence from which your were made and catalyzed you into existence?”

The stag had pushed me flat against the ground with his antlers pushing against the fabric of my shirt. He pushed harder and harder. Pin pricks of pain bloomed across my abdomen and chest as the antler tips pierced skin.

“Too long have you sat in the the neatness and safety of a religion and god that is so easily codified and catalogued. Now, see the world through the eyes of the Creator, both beautiful and terrible, and his true children! Learn the birth of a soul!”

I felt the blood rush to my head, my eyes rolled back as the antlers pressed deeper.
My mind ached. My body spasmed. My heart felt like it was going to exploded. My lungs felt like ragged tatters.

My thoughts drifted to Itza lying in bed. My two daughters back home in Hollow Port. The tiny pinprick of light in my wife’s womb. Then.
Silence.
Darkness.

Light.
Then nine discs or mirrors with one luminous fearful being striding through them all. I couldn’t look directly at him. Even the residual light from his footsteps made my soul shrink and my belly want to vomit.
He stopped on one of the mirrors, floating above it. His countenance changed growing more furious with each second until looking at him made me feel like a child staring into the maw of the monster that was about to devour him.
I closed my eyes. A soft presence nudged my shoulder. My mind? Did my mind even have a shoulder?
“ Child, watch,” said the voice I had never heard before but yet somehow knew.
I opened my eyes and looked down to see that the mirror the Creator hovered over had bloomed with life. Beings both furious and terrible, beautiful snd fragile ran and danced and flew across its surface.
I was amazed but looked down and didn’t recognize any of the races. I turned to ask the voice thinking I would find the Stag but instead there was a wild haired little male gnome. Barely up to the middle of my chest, but stout with a body used to work. A Druid, one that would make the Druids of the Flame-Tail Grove envious.
“ Who are you?” I asked, struggling to watch the unfolding drama before me and keep an eye on the gnome beside me.

“ I am and was no one important. I just did and played the part that I got handed,” he turned and winked at me, “ I just didn’t know how much of a part it would be until the Creator found me in the woods and sent me a fox.”

My eyes grew wide, “ Grandpa——-“

The gnome hushed me, “ Shhhh…. We are in the Dragon Wars. You missed the origin of the races and the rise of the Monoliths, but you may yet find that one out.”

I looked back to scene and saw dragons of all shapes and colors doing battle with and beside themselves and mortals. Blood seemed to fill the world. Time seemed to speed up past it.
“ Wait ,” I said reaching for my grandfather, “ I want to see more.”
He chuckled and patted my hand, “ That is not what Nairos sent you here to see. Just part of the lesson. Now watch!”

I looked down to see orbs thousands of them coalescing around groves and hollows and places of lands that I had no idea what to call them. Spirits like the Stag formed from the orbs.
“ Beautiful,” said Fernweh as he stood up, “ This is where the most loyal of my friends were born. Nairos, Aelen, Aelwen, Paw Pond, all the Grove Spirits. Created and made of the combined souls of the emotions of those of us have passed off these bodies.”
He smiled and turned to me, reaching out a hand to my chest, digging into it. I winced and tears came to my eyes, “ Stop, Grandpa, what are you doing?”

The gnome smiled and pulled out a glowing ember of antler, “ This is what you are placed here by the Creator to watch over. Protect the remnants of the souls on the mortal planes, defense against and destroy against the predations of the Monoliths and Spheres, and remember my beloved grandson, sometimes the monolith isn’t made of black rock.”

The vision vanished, and I sat up with a gasp clawing at my chest. I looked down no wounds evident on my body, but a glowing tip of antler between my legs. I looked around, scrambling to my feet and pulling out some beads from my battle chaplet, ready for battle.

The stag snorted behind me, laying beside the great tree. I readied the bead to throw when a small figure walked around the trunk of the tree and laid a hand on the stag’s neck.
“ Did you have to be so rough with him, old friend?” The gnome asked as he looked at me through blue eyes now partly clouded with age.
“ Sometimes, Fernweh,” said the stag as it absentmindedly belched up some cud, “ Pain, real and extreme pain is necessary to snap one out of the vines that wrap around their mind and soul.”

“ You think he’s gonna take to it?” Asked Fernweh as he took out a pouch of fox weed and put it into his lip.

The stag turned to look at me, “ That will depend upon him.”

I put the bead back into the chaplet and walked towards the figure of my grandfather. I squatted down to get eye level with him.

“ What does this mean, Grandpa?” I asked taking his hand in mine, “ Why do I have to be the one all this is revealed to?”

He smiled and shifted off his Druid’s robes revealing a beaten and weathered frame crossed by scars. Visible on his chest though, was a set of antlers glowing bright gold and on his left hand a catfish swirled amidst symbols that made me feel as thought it was swimming through his skin. He stood up as straight as his little frame could allow him, “ Because my son, you are just like I was. Wandering in the woods of your life and all of a sudden you stumble upon a gem, and your life changes. Now your path is not your own, well not completely. The Creator guides and directs his characters as he sees.”

He clapped his hands and drew a pocket knife from his pocket, “ NOW! Ezekiel Flame-Tail of the Grove. I ask you. Do you wish to continue in the bliss of religion, playing to the tune of what others tell you the Creator wants you to hear? Or would you like to step into the wild of His creation and dig and chase and pursue the veins of His glory?”

I paused. My hands drifting up to the buttons of my shirt. What was I doing? My whole life, I had been raised by… I paused. By who? My father died in battle somewhere in the southern Steelwilds when I was just a kit. I was raised by Auntie Inara and the brothers and sisters of the Church, fed the gospel by spoon after spoon until I could quote it by heart, but did I ever chose it or anything for myself? My mother fled the church to pursue her convictions in the war torn Sand Seas. My Uncles Tenshi and Yoru did not agree with church either even though the went along with the motions. My wife Itza even has read Fernweh’s journals and his words of wisdom.
I looked at him in the eyes and bared my chest before him, “ I want to chose. I chose to chase the Creator. To pursue his truths. To protect his children both spiritual and mortal on this plane. I want to learn what the truth. The raw, beautififul, scary and painful truth. I want to see what my mother, uncles, wife and you grandfather found. I just don’t know what to do.”

He clapped me on the shoulder, “‘Seems like you need a guide. Good thing I am a Druid. This will hurt, but all things sworn to the Creator and his messengers and shepherds require pain. Do you accept the mark of Narios the Black Stag of the Hollow and accept his guidance and patronage?”

I nodded.
Fernweh smiled and sharpened his pocket knife, “ Very well, then let’s begin.”

“The cast-out shall rot with beasts, and no anointing shall reach them. Let the gates be shut to the fallen, for sanctity fears the unclean.”

— Book of Saint Fernweh, Purity Edicts, Canon IV