Once Upon a Nightmare [Ether + Carpe Diem]

[Etheria]

Dull green. Forest-consuming, an overwhelming growth of moss encompassing the misty woods that surrounded the small, unassuming cottage that lie in the thick of the brush. They bore into her, outstretched vines crawling over the now weathered picket fence. Slowly, hungrily weaving and rolling through the grass. Up the oak framed walls of their home- seeping beneath the floorboards with tempered urgency. With a panicked breath, she jolted from her bed. She lurched away from the horrid vines and towards the window. As she peered out, feeling the thorns clasp onto her ankles- sinking in their claws, a cry bubbled in her throat. Her trembling, golden eyes fixated on the pristine meadow outside; decorated by quaint blue flowers. They were unusual, unnatural just like the fate that had become her. Prickly tendrils wound around her torso, climbing further until the blood dribbled from her neck. A growl. Then a scream.

And then she was awake. A clammy moisture clung to her nightgown, her knuckles white from gripping her bedsheets. Sullen sunlight bled through the moss-free windowpanes of her bedroom, showing no signs of the monstrous dream she had been trapped in moments ago. The sound of her aunts rustling and bounding towards her door was muffled, drowned out as the morning rang into her consciousness. They found her as they always did. After that same dream; or was it a nightmare? Staring. Eyes glued to her bedside window, wondering if she’d see one of those peculiar blue flowers. Or, the vines that so violently came to engulf her.

“Briar!” Merryweather huffed with concern, short of breath from sprinting across the cottage in her short, hefty frame. Flora came after her, leisurely with her pace. Still, with an air of concern. But a knowing, familiarity with the commotion that came with each passing moon. Fauna was the quietest of them, slipping in almost undetected until she stepped forward to place a comforting hand upon the girl’s shoulder.

“I’m fine.” Briar gasped softly, as she did each time. The alarm of her aunts appeared to settle, then- at the sound of her voice.

“Dear gods.” Merryweather groaned, running a hand over her plump face.

“It’s happening more often.” Flora noted, a hardness in her tone.

Fauna whipped her head about, glaring. She gave Briar’s shoulder a light squeeze as if to say, ‘it’s alright, my sweet.’ As if Briar wouldn’t notice the tension between her aunts.

But she did notice. The days grew longer, colder. And as ice permeated the evening air, heat brewed within the walls of their little cottage. Not from the fire, crackling in the hearth. It was the distinct worry- dread, even- that they wore on their faces.

“They’re just nightmares.” Briar mumbled as she untangled herself from her sheets.

Fauna released her shoulder to allow her the space to move, bolstering her statement with a gentle nod. “That’s right. They’re just nightmares, ladies. Best to be sent away with a fine breakfast!”

Merryweather squared her shoulders, unready to budge from watching her dear niece. “If by fine breakfast you mean more bread-”

“Lavender bread. With blueberries and a honey glaze, if we can find any today.” Flora agreed, hooking onto the narrative her sister was painting.

“I’m okay, really.” Briar smiled at her aunts, pushing herself to her feet. Merryweather’s face scrunched in skepticism. It was becoming more difficult to convince her. The three of them were spooked out of their minds by her frightening wake each morning. It never quite used to be so frequent. Briar would wake with a horrible, blood-curdling scream; once again having escaped the death-promising grip of green overgrowth.

“In fact,” she said, dusting off her linen shift, “I’m going hunting today.”

Flora pursed her lips, despite Briar’s effort to assure Merryweather. “There hasn’t been a bird or deer in these woods for two weeks.”

“Now, Briar would never let us all starve. Let the girl hunt, and we shall bake the bread. It’s the least we can do to thank her for that last Elk she brought home.” Fauna insisted, ushering her sisters out of the room.

Briar mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her aunt, Fauna shutting her door with nothing more than a wink.

Donning a clean underdress and a green kirtle, she belted her skirts securely at the waist where she would hang a couple of daggers. One, for stripping the pelt. The other, for cutting and cleaning her prey. A quiver was slung over her back, and with her bow in hand she made her voyage out into the dense forest surrounding her home. They lived an hour’s trek from the nearest village, far on the outskirts of the kingdom. Nestled between borders, and somewhere beyond where little would venture. A massive mountainscape occupied the skies due north. They were said to be barren, cursed by unknown forces and guarded by terrible things. Vague stories were whispered by the villagers, her aunts included in the lot that discouraged travel there.

Today, however, the large shadow of the mountain stretched on endlessly. The solemn shade that colored parts of the forest in grey- so daunting that few animals would graze outside reach of the sun- swallowed as far as the eye could see. The sunlight seemed paler. Nature more quiet. It was as though the darkness that covered her dreams had steeped the world in the same melancholy. Briar scowled at the thought, hiking past the nearby stream. Leaves wilted under her muted footsteps, the brush beyond- soundless.

She needed to bring back something. She noticed, even on her own frame, that she was becoming thin from the lack of food. Rations from the village had run out a couple of winters ago. And her aunts were slowly withering, like the plants beneath her boots. Their cheerful faces would sag with old age, the lines deepening with worry. Briar chewed on her lip, her toes curling with frustration. The state of Nildaar wasn’t improving one bit. The lands themselves, were rejecting to thrive with life. The soil could not gift them with more crops. Her aunts, once talented gardeners- couldn’t foster the same wealth of grain they once had. And though they made a brave face, her nightmarish condition wasn’t the only thing that wore on them.

Out of her peripheral, a glimmer caught her eye. It slipped through the cloudbank, some ethereal exception to the terrible overcast of the day. As she studied the location of this break in luck, she noticed the pool of light rested far beyond kingdom borders. It bridged the unnamed territory, neighbor to the Forbidden Mountain. Animals were sure to gather there. It was a doable thirty minutes away from where she stood. A total of an hour and some from the cottage. She could carry a kill that far. In enough time before dark, surely.

Briar, without much other option, decided to head in the direction of the Mountain. It would be best if she didn’t speak of this to her aunts, knowing that they would vehemently object. Hells, they might even reject the food entirely if they knew where it came from.

Please, she prayed silently- hoping her risk would reap worthy benefit. Any benefit.

As she edged closer, the warmth of the light was almost palpable. It illuminated the greyscale of the trees, and moss grew thick under her steps. The ground was much softer here. Richer, than the likes of Nildaar.

“Caw!”

A loud screech erupted from the trees. Not quite a chirp, but a vicious sound. Probably that of a bird. A large bird. Briar licked her lips, drawing an arrow from her quiver. Her molten eyes glistening with relief, she scanned the canopy; running with low-hanging vines. Her stomach clenched, her grip tightening around her bow. She grimaced, an unsettling feeling sinking into her core as she laid eyes on the raven.

It had lovely, onyx feathers that seemed to shift in the light with an almost opalescent quality. Briar aimed her arrow upon the breast of the bird. Sweat beaded down her temples. She struggled to keep a steady grip, her fingers shaking. She could not lose this shot. For all she knew- it was all she’d get for weeks. She wouldn’t fumble.

Taking a deep breath through her nose, she pinched her arrow with purpose. Not once, would she slip- until a blue petal fluttered past. Carried by the wind, sweeping just between her and the bird. Her heart hammered against her chest, her grip slipping, and the arrow sang into the air. It plummeted past the petal, hurdling forth to catch the bird’s wing. The creature flailed in surprise by the attack, cluttering to the ground with a large thud.

Briar was frozen for a moment. She looked around her frantically, searching for a trace of the blue flower she thought she’d seen. The one her dreams- her nightmares, were drenched in. When she could not find the petal, she finally realized the pained cries of the bird. She’d injured the wing and sent him falling to the mossy ground. She winced, guilt flooding her chest. It was cruel to make the animal suffer. That was never her intention. If she were able, she always made sure her victims came to a swift end.

Though as she emerged from her perch behind the trunk of another tree, taking a step towards the bird writhing a few feet away, she sensed a presence. There were no leaves to crunch beneath a pair of feet, or shadows to cast. Only the lack of stillness- that was so apparent in the forests of Nildaar. But this was not Nildaar. This was somewhere she shouldn’t have been.

Her body tensed, anxiety rippling through her with heavy breath. Before she could even identify the possible threat, she reached for another arrow out of her quiver. She drew her bow, aiming in the direction of the unknown company.

 

[Carpe Diem]

How long had it been since that day? Not a night passed when he didn't dream of it, where he didn't awaken from his slumber in a cold sweat. A phantom pain in his back, where his wings had once laid. A grim, mocking reminder of that betrayal. This morning had been no different, as he stirred from his sleep with a gasp and a jolt, his entire body burning awake with pain and deep-seated, festering anger. Envious, contaminated jades slowly returned to their dull yet passionate golden hues, contrasting jet-black locks that framed a handsome, mature face. They stared up at the ceiling above, a homely, warm wooden roof. He slowly rose up, sitting up and letting the small, thin blanket fall from his chest and onto his lap, his pale, muscular chest laden with battle scars all the way down to his waist.

A king often lived the majority of his life in the commodity of his castle, yet Cassius was nothing like a king. Born from royal blood, one would expect him to enjoy the lavish, pampered lifestyle that his faraway ancestor had given him the birthright to. The fae had simply never been one to indulge in such base desires and found the royal life suffocating, much to the chagrin of his various servants and subjects who wished he would take his duties more seriously. It was only after them constantly hunting them down that he had eventually appointed a regent to rule in his place, a man he respected deeply and put his utmost trust in to treat the people well. Heavens knew they needed someone that could lead them back into prosperity.

Not him. Cassius, the fae named 'Maleficent' by the humans, was feared even by his own people for his unhinged desire for vengeance. While humans could forgive and forget, it was not quite as simple for an immortal race such as his. Even more immortal than the average fae, he would forever live with the memory of the fateful day he was betrayed by a human he thought his ally and heartfelt friend.

Even now, his body suffered from tension as he ate a piece of jerky, staring out the window of his small, humble little cabin the woods. Birds chirped blissfully outside, singing greetings to each other, preening themselves and fluttering about, picking tiny branches from the ground to add to their humble nests they called home. Cassius smirked at the sight, retreating back into his room to dress up for the day.

His preferred style was minimalist. A dark-brown tunic and a pair of dark slacks, complete with some low, brown boots and a black wool cape that would keep him warm while out in the wild would be enough to satisfy his sense of fashion, emerging from the cabin after only a few minutes.

"Caw!" The call of an old friend made the jaded, lonesome fae rise up to meet jet-black wings, the faintest smile painting over his features for a moment as he extended his arm out, allowing the crow to perch itself on his forearm.

"How has the night treated you, Diablo?" he hummed with a pleasant tone to his voice, reaching under the crow's beak and scratching the spot connecting its head and its neck together gently. Did crows have chins? Such thoughts kept the lone fae awake at nights.

The crow cawed in response and Cassius continued on his way, allowing his companion to rise up and rest on his shoulder as he went into the woods.

The faerie king had little in the way of an objective or goal as he walked through the forest. Not much, other than simply strolling about, taking in the nature. It was genetic, for a fae to bask in the world around them, taking in the beauty and magic that the world possessed. It was much like a plant would grow strong if it took in sunlight and water, though in a less... literal sense.

Plus, the quiet helped in appeasing tumultuous emotions, allowing him to forget his toxic hatred he'd harbored for more than twenty years. "Hm... It seems the woods are anxious today," he mused, looking around at the rustling of the leaves, the air hanging about slightly stagnant. The animals lurked outside of view, watching cautiously as he walked through the same path he always did. Yet something felt different.

"Caw!" His companion seemed to think the same. Diablo hopped off his shoulder, spreading its wings and flying off in a seemingly random direction.

Confused by his familiar's strange behavior, Cassius followed after, wondering what it was that had disturbed the crow so.

It didn't take long before he got his answer. It happened quickly, forbidding the fae king from doing anything more than watch. He held his tongue as an arrow pierced through the crow's long wing, the bird, black as night, falling unceremoniously to the ground. He could not help but sigh in relief as the bird twitched on the ground; it was still alive, thankfully. The threat, however, was not gone.

It seemed his presence was noticed, surprising even him. Even the most weathered of warriors couldn't anticipate him, his footstep lighter than a feather and his breathing even lighter yet. Yet there was no mistaking the arrow that was aimed in his direction, the bow drawn taut towards him.

"Should I consider a declaration of war, then?" Cassius' voice rose louder than it had for what seemed like an eternity. It was harsh, cold and yet sophisticated, his gait as he emerged from the trees betraying his dignified air.

"To trespass the border between the fae and human kingdom and take down my familiar... This is quite the offense, wouldn't you agree? And yet, you would fire your next arrow at me." He gazed at her, taking in her appearance for but a moment before continuing.

"Humans truly are such savages... But even I was not aware this was the extent of their barbarism."

 

[Etheria]

The forest threatened to swallow her whole. Hairs rose on her fair skin, blood curdling, and her breath dry with trepidation. Green; vivid as the thorns and overgrowth that smothered her dreams with promise of death- stared into her very soul. They were a piercing pair of eyes, that of a measured predator she should not have crossed. Fate had been unkind that day. Bringing her further into the clutches of a cursed wood, nightmares dancing upon the precipice of a horrid reality.

Inhuman, dark orbs beheld her with searing contempt. An intensity she had not experienced in all her years. And yet, one she understood. It was the expression she would wear if she was ever brought before the King of their lands. The man responsible for famine, starvation, and relentless suffering. He was obsessed with war. And, the creatures that lied beyond the Forbidden Mountain. The creature… that was standing right in front of her.

“Should I consider this a declaration of war, then?” His voice was like a song; melodic, even in his tempered fury. He wore clothing that was foreign to her. The materials glistened and shifted with qualities unbeknownst to humankind. Even of the more wealthy variety.

Though he did not seem to be a warrior, it would be wrong of her to assume he wasn’t. Sudden movements could be taken as threat. She needed to proceed with caution. Slowly, she lowered her weapon. Unotching the arrow and sliding it back into her quiver.

“To trespass the border between the fae and human kingdom and take down my familiar... This is quite the offense, wouldn't you agree? And yet, you would fire your next arrow at me.”

She grimaced at the realization she’d been thoroughly caught. Not to mention- she’d failed to secure food. Her momentary relief had not lasted, guilt settling in its place. She had nearly killed his familiar. His friend. Briar glanced back towards the bird, having decided to lay there with his wounds. She was glad for that, at least. Hoping that she’d not caused lasting damage to his wing.

“Humans truly are such savages... But even I was not aware this was the extent of their barbarism.”

Briar scowled at this, but ignored the comment. “It was not my intention to offend you, Sir.” She replied with a softness, careful about how she slid past him to kneel before the bird. Her expression notably hardened for a moment, taking in the state of the poor animal. She hunted to survive. But not to cause suffering. Not to take from others.

“I’m sorry.” The girl murmured quietly to the bird, tracing a finger over its feathered chest. Oddly, he didn’t object. She was able to communicate her intent well enough to the animal, it seemed. “Don’t look.” She advised him, the bird taking her word and shutting his eyes. Briar drew one of her daggers, making a firm grip on the arrow stuck in his wing. She very warily sawed the tip of the arrow from the shaft- enabling her to remove it without causing any more injury.

After sheathing her blade, she tore a piece of fabric from her dress- binding his wing as gently as she could to halt the bleeding. Each time the bird cawed in pain, she chomped down on her tongue with regret. I’m sorry, she couldn’t help but repeat in her head.

“Would you allow me to heal him?” Her tone was laced with a plea, scooping the raven up in her arms and carrying him to his master. “Please.” She breathed, her golden eyes burning with a certain luminescence that exceeded the mundane qualities of a Nildaarian human. “It is all I can offer for my grave error. I have nothing to give you. But… I would like to make amends by tending to his wounds.” She wasn’t sure how she knew the raven was a him. She just simply knew. “I would have to return to my cottage. But I could return him in three days time. Right here.”

Briar was adamant about healing the creature that she had injured. She was not one to shed her faults. Her actions were imbued with the utmost sincerity, despite being such a recluse.