I knew well how tricky the island could be, how dangerous. How the more benign it appeared, the more it was hiding. I almost died there once. I’m certain I would have if it were not for Furfur and the cloaked (and daggered) stranger. In another of the island’s variations I saw my death played out in many ways, most of them unpleasant. This time, I knew, was different. This time I was more adult than child. I stood tall, lean and sharp as a scythe, my horn pointed straight and certain to the center of the island. I was the arrow that knows its target before the bow is even drawn. I knew my destination.
I was going for the heart.
Furfur and I were both restless and eager, spurred by some strange drive both of us felt keenly but could not define. Despite this we crossed the bridge at a walk, self-restraint clear by the tension knotted in our shoulders. I knew this was a thing that should not be rushed. Water dripped from the ceiling of the massive cave, rhythmic and lulling, a subterranean music that could drive someone mad if they stayed and listened too long. I felt compelled to sing, to speak, to scream-- anything to drown out the weeping walls. I held my silence, and we passed through in peace.
The outskirts of the city were eerily still. The wind managed to touch without touching- I felt its caress on my cheek but my long mane was not stirred. Even the dust remained still where it lay, stagnant in its corners and alleyways. My magic was stronger now than the last time I was here. It leaned into the stone walls and the walls leaned back, straining against their nature. A younger Aspara would have stayed and listened. She would have coaxed the stories from the walls, and then she would have walked among the abandoned marketplace and listened to each and every story of each and every ware. I’m certain she would have learned a lot about this place, but when she left she would still feel empty and unfulfilled. Like a cup with a hole at the bottom, filled with water but never able to sustain it.
Good thing I was older and my soft edges had begun to harden and sharpen. I paid no mind to the meandering alleyways that beckoned to my sense of adventure. I sent Furfur ahead to scout out the glowing castle that loomed watchful and terrible as the stories I’d heard of dragons. The bad kind of dragons, not like Fable. (at that time I still saw things as good and evil. I had begun to see the true nature of things, but I did not yet understand what it was I saw.) As he silently loped ahead, I followed slow and steady, head low and swinging gently back and forth like the hangman’s noose.
The massive doorway stood open and gaping, a hungry mouth leading to a dark and welcoming gullet. The heart would be someplace beyond. If I closed my eyes I think I could have felt its pulse, echoing from deep within the stone. Did it know I was coming?
I think so.
I did not pause or hesitate or linger. I passed the threshold, into the great entryway, and only when I was inside did I stop. A lush red carpet swallowed the plod of my steps. “Furfur?” When I prodded the darkness with my thoughts, I had the strange feeling that the castle was listening to me. Then, when my wolf did not respond, I had the shuddering thought that it was laughing.
I was angry. I placed my horn to the velvet carpet and I asked it, with the strength of a demand, “Where is my wolf.” It shivered and buckled, reaching for me then away, away, away, its grains shifting like sea grass to point deeper into the keep.
the higher i get, the lower i'll sink,
i can't drown my demons,
they know how to swim
M
orrighan really hated the island.
Any time she came here, the landscape was different. Somehow, all its earlier forms were tame compared to what stood before them now. It took a lot to get her out of Denocte, so when Maeve said she wanted to explore the island like Morrighan did all those seasons ago, it was hard to say no.
It had been too late to turn back by the time she realized how much more dangerous this island is. There is something dark and sinister now like they are going into the home of a monster (or the island is the monster). Maeve hadn't been phased, but that was before they got separated.
What dim lighting they had was snuffed out and not even the moon could light their way. Morrighan could hear her daughter scream in the distance and she ran. She had no idea where she was going, but she tried to follow the screams as best she could. But then once she did come back into the light, Maeve was gone. Even when she called her name, there was no response.
This was all her fault.
So when the Regent comes upon the castle, she wonders if her daughter would find herself here. Although it's much different from Denocte, it would be the closest thing to home and she might feel the safest here. Hopefully her hunch is correct and something hadn't taken off with her daughter.
If anything happened to her… Morrighan would never forgive herself. Maeve is her world, her real purpose other than serving the Night Court. Her daughter would always come first no matter what, even before herself.
Bram brushes against his companion's side in an attempt to comfort her. She doesn't say anything to him, just keeps walking across the bone bridge and through the doors of the castle.
"Someone is here," the wolf says, nose in the air at first and then the floor. The Regent becomes hopeful, but as the pair follow the scent trail, it only leads them to a white unicorn. Still, they're a familiar face and gives Morr a small bit of relief.
"Aspara!" she calls and rushes over to the girl's side. It's always surprising to see just how much the girl has grown (perhaps "girl" isn't appropriate any longer, Aspara has already grown to be a mature woman). She remembers when the twins were young and running amuck with their wolves. Isra and Eik surely had their plate full with them then, but now here they are. Maeve has already developed quite a strong friendship with Aspara. Maybe she's the key to finding her.
There is no time for formalities or even asking why the mare would be here. All that matters is finding her daughter. "Have you seen Maeve? We were separated coming here… I've been trying to look for her since," she explains. It's clear how frantic she is in her voice and the way she has to catch her breath. She hopes maybe there's a chance they can find the girl and soon.
It was like waking from a dream I wasn’t ready to leave. When I turned at the sound of my name, a bright pain speared through my head. I felt as though the walls leaned into me, and the threads of the carpet reached for me like roses to the sun. Don’t look, the castle whispered to me, don’t turn away- but I did both. I had never appreciated being told what to do.
It was Aunty Morr, flustered in a way I’d never quite seen her before. Concerned. I wanted to scream at her to go away, she didn’t belong here. The idea had planted itself in my mind that the island was for me. Its secrets, its dangers, its dark heart were waiting for me, me alone. Why else had it brought me back so often, each time slowly revealing more of itself, slyly unwrapping the layers?
Perhaps it was a spell I was under, a sick compulsion, for at the name “Maeve” I felt like a pane of glass struck by a hammer; not shattered, but cracked a hundred sprawling directions. “Oh,” I exhaled. “Maybe... she’s with Furfur? I can’t find him either. He went ahead of me into the keep.” I did not realize I was concerned until I heard it in my own voice. I had always felt myself part of a whole- half of sister, a quarter of my small and tightly-knit family. But I could always be divided further, cleaved once more in two: myself and my wolf. The fear of that loss caused my voice to waver as though I was on the verge of tears.
But I did not cry. I was done with crying.
I turned back to the heart of the castle, and again was struck by the feeling it reached for me with warm and greedy hands. The pain in my skull receded, mollified by the intention clear on my brow: we would go deeper. “We’ll find them,” I said to Morrighan, feeling older than I ever had. Like I was the wise older aunt, reassuring the younger. I reached for one of the torches that lined the vast hallway, forgetting how easily Morrighan could summon fire and light if needed- I think some part of me still felt like I was alone in this, not that it bothered me. I felt poised and serene as a mantis folded neatly, braced to spring into violence.
Side by side we quickly stepped further into the castle, where I knew my wolf was- and I hoped Maeve as well.
the higher i get, the lower i'll sink,
i can't drown my demons,
they know how to swim
I
t feels a bit unnerving that even Aspara's companion got lost here. Is this now the nature of the new island? To take innocents and keep them in hiding to torture them? Morrighan seriously hopes not and that it's just because of how big this place is that they can't find either of them.
"I hope so…" she says, her voice trailing off. Hopefully Aspara is right because then at least if Maeve was with Furfur, she wouldn't be alone or vulnerable. Somehow, the girl seems more confident than Morrighan feels and it makes her realize how badly she needs to get it together. If she loses it here, it'll really make her look and feel stupid.
As Aspara reaches for a torch, it makes the Regent laugh. Why use such a primitive thing when she could conjure as much fire as they needed? With a slow blink of her eyes, she summons a ball of fire in the air to float in front of them. Combined with the glow of the torch, they had a decent range of light in this freakish place. Plus, if anything decided to jump out at them, she could set them on fire within seconds.
"Do you… feel anything?" Morrighan asks, referencing more to the girl's magic than the bond with her companion. Beside her, Bram has his nose in the air to try and pick up on any familiar scents. Morr hopes that one of them will get a lead and soon. It takes a lot for her to feel scared, but this place is quickly giving her the creeps. She can already feel a shiver creeping down her spine and can hear strange noises farther away.
The castle seemed to me without a doubt a living thing, its surfaces gently swelling and releasing like the belly of an animal. My skin felt clammy, damp– almost as though something were breathing down my neck. And then there was the sound, so quiet at first I thought I imagined it. A gentle beat rose from the floor, trembling in my bones with the resonance of something that lay far beneath the earth. A heartbeat.
Did I feel anything? I almost laughed at the question.
I felt everything.
The walls were inside my head, wary of the bright flames Morrighan wielded with such ease. With each step, the red carpet unrolled in the pit of my belly. But I knew all that was not what she meant. I lowered my horn to the floor as I walked, dragging it along the lush carpet with the delicacy of a butcher lining up a cut. In the wake of my touch a message sank down into the bones of this place. “A girl passed through here. Where did she go?” The red threads reached up with excitement toward my horn and hooves, although I did not slow my stride to entertain them.
The castle’s story was not easy to decipher. (places in general are not very eloquent, and that place was more guarded than most) But I understood haltingly the message, and I broke into a lope with a quiet murmur: “The throne room.” I did not speak louder lest the emotion leech into my voice. I was afraid… yet I was distinctly happy, too, for reasons I could not explain. A strange little smile curled catlike despite my grim expression.
As I pressed deeper toward the heartbeat of the island, it felt almost like a homecoming. Like I had been away for far too long from this place I had never known. It felt right, and only later would I realize just how wrong that rightness was.
I slid to a halt before a set of massive doors. They were cut from obsidian, a hue of black so dark it drank up the light of our fires and left nothing else. On the other side I heard a low growl– Furfur, I was sure of it, although I still could not reach him through our bond. I glanced once to Morrighan, and then with my horn I pushed open the door to the throne room.
the higher i get, the lower i'll sink,
i can't drown my demons,
they know how to swim
T
he more time they spend in this castle, the more it seems alive. Morrighan could not feel things the way Aspara could, but every so often, she swears she can see the walls breathing. It's like they didn't enter a castle but the insides of a beast and for whatever reason it looks like a hallway and rooms. It sends a shiver down her spine, so she tries not to think about it too much.
Bram watches Aspara intently as she puts her horn down to the carpet. He only has his senses to use and not magic like the two mares. However, he seems to sense something at the same time Aspara tells them to head to the throne room. The girl runs forward and so do Morr and Bram. The wolf's hackles are raised and she takes that as things are about to get worse. Unfortunately, they aren't able to go too fast as they are both still battered up from their attempt at fighting Thana. Morrighan tries to ignore all the aches and sharp pains screaming throughout her body. She'll have plenty of time to heal once Maeve is home safe.
When they reach the obsidian doors, it makes her uneasy to not see the reflection of their fires in the stone. Aspara seems sure that this is where they need to go and it becomes clear they made it when there is a growl heard from inside. Bram growls back, his hackles completely raised now and his lips pull back in a threatening snarl.
"What is it?" "Nothing good, but she's in there."
Morrighan feels her chest get tighter, but nods at Aspara to open the doors.
There is a high pitched creaking noise as the doors part and reveal a monster that may as well be from the depths of hell. It looks like it was crafted out of shadows and dying flesh, but it's definitely not something from the normal world of Novus. Its body is so large, it practically fills the entire room so that there is barely any light. Whatever created this island must have created this thing too (or for all she knew, it was from Thana's magic). Morrighan can see Maeve hiding in the corner of the room absolutely terrified with Furfur standing over her. He is growling too as he tries to protect Maeve from whatever this shadow monster is.
Morr doesn't wait any longer before she uses her magic to shoot out balls of fire. They hit its side and it turns around, revealing its glowing sets of white pupiless eyes. It flashes its sharp teeth at them and looks almost feline-like. Bram leaps forward and manages to clamp down onto its ear and it howls in pain. It shakes its head side to side, making Bram lose his grip and he falls onto the floor with a loud thud.
Maeve's screaming fills her ears and Morr starts to feel desperate. She doesn't know how they're going to take this thing down, but failing isn't an option here. Now that she knows where her daughter is and it's this thing that's keeping her from getting to safety, it had to pay.
"Get away from her!" the Regent yells and aims a kick at the monster's face. She will do whatever it takes to get this shithead out of here.
I think anyone could have seen it if they looked closely, but most chose not to. I didn’t blame them. There was a depth and a darkness to our wolves gaze that no natural creature could bear to meet. There was something terrible inside of them-- but it was not something I could bring myself to hate or fear, for the wraith wolves were entirely natural creatures. The world was always shifting to maintain a precarious balance; there were angels in the world, and as every light casts a shadow, so too there were demons. And I loved it all! Light and darkness, beauty and terror, each emphasizing and deepening the other.
But I digress… I think perhaps I wish to soften the shock of what followed-- for as soon as I opened the door and Furfur saw me, standing square and unwavering in the long shadow of the throne beast, he began to change. He grew almost double in size, and quickly stood taller than little Maeve. His skin gone (whether shed or consumed, I’m not sure) and replaced with chunks of ice and snow threaded with blue knots of muscle. And his eyes- I looked at them only for a moment- his eyes were that of endless fire.
There was fire, blessed fire, and I was suddenly grateful for Morrighan and Bram- for I had been preparing myself for this encounter, and I was ready to face whatever I found behind that door, but Maeve’s presence changed everything. I was admittedly reckless with my own life, but I could not bear to see another harmed, especially a friend of mine.
“Maeve, run.” There was that calm again, the same calm that struck me the first time the island tried to keep me for its own. When I leapt forward to meet the beast, I did not scream or shout or grunt-- I’m not even sure I exhaled, for in hindsight the whole event unraveled in the space of a single held breath. I was a puppet to instinct, which ran through my veins like fire.
Furfur leapt on the throne beast’s back and hindquarters as soon as it was distracted by Bram. When it shook loose one wolf and twisted its head to strike at the other, I went for its heart. My horn found its target--
(it was easy, so easy! The flesh resisted only a moment before yielding to me with a soft, wet sound.)
My horn found its target but I did not stop there. I ran through the beast, pressing forward until the tip of my horn struck the gilded wall of the throne room with a dull thunk. I could feel it weakening as I held it there. When I finally thought “this is what a dying thing feels like” I drew back. Darkness spewed from the open wound, covering me with something thick as tar and stinking of rotting flesh. (It was the single most disgusting moment of my life)
I stepped back, never turning away from the horrific beast. “Burn it,” I said to Morrighan, and I stood there staring into those wide white eyes as the spark of life began to flicker and fade.
the higher i get, the lower i'll sink,
i can't drown my demons,
they know how to swim
On
an ordinary day, perhaps Morrighan could've done this fight alone. But of course, this is the island and nothing can be simple here. If it were, she would not have a wound that hurts so damn bad and maybe this creature would be a little easier to fight off. Instead, it doesn't seem phased by some bites and burns.
Even when Aspara's bonded turned into something like a monster and grabbed hold of the demon's back, it still put up a fight. Thankfully, in the corner of her eye she can see Bram get up and bring Maeve to safety outside the throne room. Within those very seconds, she watches Aspara spear the demon into the heart with her horn. For a moment, the girl doesn't look like a girl, but a smaller version of Isra, as she pins it to the wall.
Morrighan is caught between feeling proud and being surprised. It feels like just yesterday she had been chasing Aspara and her twin through the maze and just trying to make sure they didn't get lost. It's clear that they are no longer little girls but they are growing up to be strong women. Before she knows it, Maeve will be growing up too and she's glad that her daughter has another good role model in her life.
It may be as good as dead as Aspara removes her horn and black tar blood spews out from its open wound. Still, everything inside Morrighan is telling her to kill, kill, kill and let it pay for all the trauma it's caused Maeve. She is more than just a warrior here, she is a mother and an angry one at that.
"Burn it," she hears Aspara say, but the Regent is already breathing into the life of the fire inside her veins. She can feel it pulling at the last bits of her energy, but she doesn't care. She wants this beast to suffer just as she has within every moment she's been away from her daughter. She wants it to feel the pain that she's felt and feel the fear that Maeve has felt throughout this whole endeavor. Embers spark at her feet and then the fire wraps around her legs before crawling up her body until it seems to cover her. Then, she screams and all the fire is launched at the beast in one large flare. Whatever life it had left is snuffed out in one last scream of its own and then its body is limp while the fire gladly eats away at the bits of fur and flesh.
Finally, they have won.
Morrighan never falls over now that she feels like the wind has been completely knocked out of her. This place has sucked up every last bit of patience and energy she had, but there is still the trek home to make. She doesn't want to spend another second in this wretched place, so there's no time to rest. Even if her body screams against her.
"Thank you. You did good work," she commends Aspara, seeing her now as the young woman she's become and gives her an approving smile. "You will make an excellent soldier one day." She knows Isra would be proud of how well she fought today too.
Morr takes a few more moments to catch her breath before turning to limp out of the throne room. "Now let's get the hell out of this place and go home," she says without hesitating any further. Bram and Maeve greet her from the hallway and she gives them both a nuzzle. It's so relieving to see them all together again and in one piece.
As they start to make their way out, she vows that this will be the last time her or Maeve will ever set foot on this island. If Aspara knew what was good for her, she'd do the same.
Morrighan screamed when she set the monster on fire. There was so much behind the sound! Not just anger or rage but love, too. I heard in her voice what it means to be a mother, a protector and a benefactor. As I watched the corpse being consumed by flames, I wondered if I would ever know firsthand what that feels like. Maybe that is why I always felt so quiet, so calm, in the face of battle: I was always fighting for myself, or sometimes my friends, but never a daughter or lover or son. And I knew I was supposed to want those things… but I liked my serenity.
Morrighan thanked me, to which I only nodded my head. It was just as much Bram and Furfur as me and Morrighan. I realized then how foolhardy I had been to approach the throne room alone, and I probably should have thanked the other mare in return… but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Some dark magic had taken seed in my heart and it whispered that I should have come alone and I should have arrived first- and if I had, I would have found something different at the heart of the island. Waiting for me, just for me.
“You will make an excellent soldier one day.” I shook my head gently,brushing off my wayward thoughts just as well as the compliment, with a small smile. I softened as soon as the beast was dead; even covered in black sludge I must have seemed soft and gentle as a dandelion in bloom. A soldier? I had never even considered such a path before. I was not like my father, or my sister, or even my mother in that way. “Thank you,” I said hesitantly, unsure if I really deserved the praise. “I was just defending Maeve.”
(But I would continue to come back to her words… was it true? Would I really make a good soldier? Not just that, but an excellent one?)
I looked behind Morrighan to where Maeve stood outside the room with wide eyes. The poor thing. When the three of them turned to leave I lingered behind. Furfur paced, still in wraith form, and for a few long seconds I took in the beautiful, terrifying sight of him. “Thank you,” I stepped forward and breathed into his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
We trotted to catch up to the little family, and-- for now-- we let the island be.
