When Kal had hacked through the tangled vines and seen the valley that lay before him, he stood in shock for a moment. He gazed down, terrified, at the black, gaping cave that led to the Deeps of Throg. When he and Janner had been here last, they had gone along the valley’s bottom, going deeper and deeper until they saw the cave. Now, the towering stone that made up the slanted top of the cave’s dripping maw was only a few feet from Kalmar. The top of the stone broke through the highest trees and disappeared beyond their leaves. The gorge was deep and slippery, covered in mud and mosses. If Kalmar had taken a few steps more, he would’ve slipped straight to the gorge’s bone littered bottom. His first thought was one of utter dispair. If they had reached Throg, they had passed the Well. They had searched with all their might and missed it. What could they do now? All of this he thought in a few heartbeats. Tears started to smart in his eyes as he’s thought of Janner, but his very next thought was one of panic. He himself could almost see in his imagination his father and uncle dragging their twisted forms along this gorge, going from one darkness into another. A pang of pain shot through his heart when he pictured that. How would Artham react? Seeing this would destroy him. Kal had only been standing on the edge of the gorge for a few seconds, but in that short time, his world was crumbing, his hope crashing down to death. But he had to think of his uncle. He heard crashing behind him, and his breath started to come in panicked gasps.
“Mama quick! Turn around! We have to get Uncle Artham out of here! NOW!” No sooner had the words come out of his mouth when Artham staggered through the tangled brush, stopping short beside Kalmar, and close behind came the family. Nia gasped. Leeli covered her eyes. Oskar was so shocked he couldn’t think of an author to quote, and Sara grasped Nia’s arm tightly, but Kalmar’s eyes were on Artham. The moment he had seen the black nothingness inside the cave, his breath had caught in his throat, and he was still not breathing. In one moment, his face had lost all color. He looked more terrified than anyone Kalmar had ever seen in his life, even more terrified than Podo had been when he stood before Yurgen. Kal looked desperately at his uncle’s eyes. They were wide and fearful. For a moment, they stared off into the distance, his features contorting with guilt. Kalmar’s heart sank when he saw that his uncle’s eyes were wild, squinted with pain, and full of the churning black storm. Kalmar’s heart was beating like a drum as he stepped in front of the company, drawing his sword slowly, praying desperately to the Maker, not knowing what his uncle was thinking, or what he would do. Artham’s distant eyes became focused in a moment, and his heart tore. He saw, perfectly clearly, the place where he had run away. Where he had abandoned his brother. His breath came back in a painful, choking gasp as the voices exploded in his head relentlessly. The good, bright voice was a mere glimmer of a memory in the darkness that surrounded Artham Wingfeather.
COWARD! YOU FAILED! YOU LEFT HIM AND NOW HE’S DEAD! ESBEN IS DEAD! JANNER IS DEAD! YOU FAILED HIM! Artham loosed his chilling eagle scream and turned to run, in agony at the memories and the soul-deep guilt that bombarded him. He made it a few stumbling steps before he collapsed to the ground, writhing at the pain of the voices and the memories. He screeched again and seized his head with his taloned hands, shouting out Esben’s and Janner’s names along with a torrent of indecipherable gibberish.
“Oskar!” Nia shouted, “Take Leeli and run as fast as you can to the clearing where we made camp last night. Start the signal fire for the dragons! We need to get Artham back to the Hollows! Now! Sara, help me!” Leeli took one last sad, fearful look at her uncle and hopped as fast as her crutch would let her alongside Oskar, as Nia pried one of Artham’s arms from his head as Sara took the other, both desperately trying to talk to him, to bring him back to himself, but with the storm raging and churning inside him, everything else seemed miles away, except, of course, the guilt and the voices overpowering everything in him. Kalmar watched it all in shock, staggering slowly backwards.
“Artham, please!” Sara pleaded, “We’re leaving, right now, just get up and look at me, please!” Tears streamed down Sara’s face and both she and Nia stared at Kal in bewilderment when he shouted,
“No!”
“Kalmar, what are you thinking?” Nia asked frustratedly as she struggled to keep one of Artham’s arms pinned.
“N-no! We can’t leave yet! We haven’t found the Well-we need it for Janner-”
“Kalmar, look at your uncle! We need to get away from this place as fast as we can. He needs us.”
“But-but- if we just try harder, just look a little longer-” Kal stammered.
“No,” Nia drew a shivering breath and looked at Kalmar with tears in her eyes. “Kalmar, you know I love you and your brother more than I love my own life, but the Maker has taken Janner away, and unless he wills, there is nothing we can do about it. Your uncle needs us. Your people need us. We have to go back to Anniera, even though it hurts me to do so.”
“So you're just giving up!?” Kal shouted angrily. Though he knew it was wrong, though he knew he should be doing all he could to help his uncle, the tense emotions of the past few days swelled in his chest, and in a blinding grief, he let them take over. But instead of coming out as sadness, they came out in an eruption of anger.
“How can you say you love him if you’re going to just let him stay dead!?”He shouted. Kalmar bit his lip, and upon his last words, his heart felt like it was breaking. He began to shake as tears filled his eyes. Nia and Sara stared at him in sorrow and disbelief while somehow managing to keep the twisting, shouting Artham pressed to the muddy forest floor. Kalmar realized that this was the first time he had admitted to himself that Janner was dead. His breath caught in a sob, and with an angry yell, he dashed into the dark wood, blinded by tears. He could hear Nia and Sara shouting. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Artham half rise and shout through gritted teeth,
“K-Kalmar! Wait!” Struggling to lift himself to follow his nephew, he managed to shake off Nia and Sara and, summoning all his strength, took a few trembling steps toward Kalmar, but he fell to the ground again, clutching his head against the incessant roar of accusing voices. Kalmar gritted his teeth and ignored everything that was in him that told him to go back and help his family. Every pounding step deeper into the forest shot a dagger of pain through his heart as it sunk in that his world would never be the same again. He sobbed, and shouted, angry at everything, especially at himself, and ran as hard as he could till his lungs burned, his head throbbed and his side ached. He ran as if he could leave behind all his pain and responsibilities, and forget that Janner was dead. His heart churned with agony, guilt, and anger toward his family, but most of all, a heartbreaking sadness. Whether he ran for hours or only a few minutes, he never remembered, and he could barely see where he was going through the blinding veil of his emotions and his tears. In the middle of a racking sob, his boot caught on a large protruding root. He stumbled, and crying out, fell to the ground with a thud and a sharp crack as his head knocked against a large stone. He saw a flash of white hot light, and everything went black.
Notes:
I’m sorry for this.😭 I hope it’s not bad enough to bring out the pitchforks.
So…did I get everything right for the Blackwood and Throg? No cannon breaches?
Artham!😭
Kal!😭
Everyone else involved in this story, including those that read it!😭
Multiple cookies and apples:🍎🍎🍎🍪🍪🍪
Next chapter is here