Art by James Fenner (@JMFenner91 on Twitter)

I woke up alone, lips bruised, body aching and battered, while my sheets lay drenched with blood and sweat. Memories of last night blurred and merged in my head, I couldn't tell the difference between what had happened and what had been a dream

I looked around. The brightness of the room hurt my eyes, making me squint at the window when I glanced at it to assess the time. I had slept through the entire morning, it seemed, because the sun was already at its high in the sky.

There were no signs of Erebus ever being in the room. The bracelet hung loosely on my wrist, smooth and non-threatening. I sat on my bed and gathered the pieces I remembered from last night... the tavern, the drinking, the ambush in the back alley, the confrontation with Doyle's sons, the walk back home, and the dream with Erebus.

I shook my head and pushed them all to the back of my mind, where I wouldn't have to think about it. At the moment, my attention had been directed fully to the pain I was feeling. My whole body hurt, and the wound in my chest opened again, probably from the fight with the Doyle boys at the back alley last night.

It had left blood smeared all over my chest and my bed. I quickly slapped a bandage over it and spent a few minutes mulling over going to the healer's cabin to ask for help. The last time we spoke, she hadn't left in the most amicable terms.

The wound wouldn't stop bleeding though, and the bandage I'd put on kept peeling out and falling off. After the third sloppy attempt to put it back on, I realized I had to swallow my pride and head to the healer to see if she could try to stitch me back up again, or at least wrap some proper bandage in place.

Even though it was past midday, the village was eerily quiet and strangely deserted, but I paid no mind to the strangeness that I was sensing lingering in the air. Maybe everyone had decided to wake up a bit later today, or maybe there was some festivity going on around that I didn't know about and that was all there was to it.

These doubts vanished from my mind when I reached the village's outskirts, as there weren't as many huts and houses in sight anymore to worry me. The villagers' waking habits weren't of concern to me anymore as Wolly's hoofs stopped clapping on cobblestone and entered the soft grass of the trail that led to the healer's cabin.

The sun was shining brightly as I reached my destination. I tied Wolly near the hitching post beside her cabin and walked up to her front door, but I didn't get to knock more than once before she yanked the door open, eyes wide and alarmed, searching around the small dirt road I had come from.

"You look like you've been dragged to hell and back, son. What happened to you this time?" She asked when she saw me standing by her doorstep with an arm wrapped over my chest and a pained expression on my face.

"I... hello, sorry to bother you again, but... I was wondering if you could help me with some quick stitches?" I asked and added before she could jump to conclusions. "This ain't nothing to do with the bracelet, I swear. I just had an altercation last night and things got a bit rough. I might have opened my wound in the scuffle."

She eyed me worriedly and ushered me quickly inside, motioning for me to sit on a chair next to a table full of dry herbs, pots, and bottles.

"What was this altercation about anyway?" She inquired, looking around her table. "This morning we had a blood moon showing in the sky, no wonder people are acting up."

"It was nothing serious, really, just a late-night drunk scuffle with Doyle's boys," I told her, waving a dismissive hand. "It was barely a thing, to be honest, only lasted a minute or two."

"Nothing serious, huh?" She mused, moving busily around the table as she picked things to fix me up. "By the looks of those bruises and marks on your neck, it looks like they tried to choke you to death, son. Looks serious enough to me."

"W-what?" I said, touching my neck in surprise. Now that she had mentioned it, my neck did feel quite sore. "N-no, it doesn't..."

"I know choke marks when I see them, boy." She sat down on a bench in front of me and pointed to my neck. "And these look like they are from last night, there's no doubt about it."

"I... it's nothing to worry about." I muttered awkwardly while she motioned for me to remove my shirt.

"I have all sorts of omens taking form around here, since yesterday as a matter of fact," she commented, picking up a clean cloth to clean up my wound after I took my shirt off. "Maybe this is a sign that needs worrying about, son."

"I had quite a lot to drink last night. The Doyle's had them too. But nothing serious happened. I'm fine, just need a few stitches and I'll be good to go." I mumbled absent-mindedly. Flashes of moving darkness closing in drifted back into my head, like memories of a hazy dream coming into focus.

"This doesn't look good." The healer grumbled as she wiped at my wound, making me snap out of my reverie. "It shouldn't be this fresh, or look this brand new like it is. It looks old-long infected too. Doesn't make sense to look new and old at the same time."

I glanced down to check on what she was talking about. The cut did look new as if I had been stabbed today... but it also looked like an old infection, dark purple veins spreading underneath my skin. It wasn't like this before. Or was it?

Distant faded memories lingered at the edges of my consciousness, coming in and out of focus. I think I remember changing bandages once or twice ever since I left the healer's care... These dark infected veins underneath my skin were fainter and timid in size, but they were already there, biding time and growing without me noticing it.

"It's a nasty, angry thing, this wound of yours..." The healer hunched down and pulled the wound open to try to see inside. "It looks like there's something in there... Something that is not letting the wound heal." She pressed a bandage into the wound, to stop the bleeding and clicked her tongue, seeming quite discontent, before she stood up with a deep frown on her forehead. "I'm not so sure if stitching you up is the best thing to do here. I can be sealing whatever it is that's festering inside. I... I've never seen anything like this before."

"But... I'm sure there's something you can do?" I muttered, keeping pressure on the wound with the cloth she had handed me. "Perhaps we can try another ointment? Or a different herb infusion maybe?" I suggested hopelessly.

"There's nothing I have here that will work on this." She turned to me, looking worried and unsure. "I... I don't know how to fix this, son. I'm sorry. The best I can do is put a new bandage on it and... that's about it."

I let out a sigh of resignation and nodded at her. "It's okay. Just patch me up and leave it like it is then." I told her tiredly. "Thank you anyway... for having a look at it."

She cleaned up the wound some more and bandaged it up, before placing a gentle hand over my chest as she finished. "Do you want me to have a look at your back too?"

I glanced up at her, frowning in confusion. "M-my back?"

She nodded. "There's claw marks all over your back." She told me, moving around to better inspect it. "Were you fighting off a feral animal too last night?"

"I-- no!" I stood up and grabbed my shirt, moving strategically away from her prying eyes. "Last night is kind of a blur, to be honest." I lied, shoving my shirt quickly back on.

Another flare of images flashed in my head, memories of last night coming back to me in disarray... I remembered what was in the moving shadows of my room. I remembered him there. I thought I was dreaming then... him in my room and his hands on my throat, pushing me against the wall, his body against mine, hard and possessive, his talon-fingers digging into my back, him sinking into me... but I thought it had all been just a dream... just another violent, pleasant dream.

"You said the fight with the Doyle boys was nothing. It looks like it was quite something." She commented again, making me blink back to reality.

"Well, thanks again for everything. I need to go now." I said in a hurry and bolted for the door, desperate to get out of there and away from her nosy questions, but I didn't even get to the door before a boy busted into her cabin, wide-eyed and flustered, crying out for help.

There had been a freaky accident with one of Doyle's sons, the boy was saying as he busted into the cabin. Timmy had been badly wounded and the family had ordered him to fetch the healer, but as soon the boy's eyes landed on me, he paled and the words died on his tongue. He looked like he was seeing the devil himself, right in front of him.

"What is it, boy? What's the matter with ya? Don't you recognize Aydan?" The healer berated the boy, urging him to continue giving his message.

"Aye, ma'am! I-I d-do." The boy replied with a small, scared voice. "B-but... they was saying... Doyle's brothers and his friends..." He trailed off, too scared to continue. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I had a bad feeling about this.

"What were they saying? Go on now, spill it, boy!" The healer demanded and the boy responded obediently. "They was saying 'twas his fault, ma'am." The boy pointed at me with a trembling finger. "He threw a curse at them last night, they said. They said he has the devil inside him. Said the accident was his fault. They were hounding up more men to come fetch him... make him pay for what he's done. They went looking for him at his place."

The healer clicked her tongue again, her eyes moving quickly around the room as she thought about what to do. It took her a few seconds to snap into action.

"Alright. You spoke your piece. Now go straight back to your home, boy. I'll take Aydan to the Doyle's myself so we can straighten everything out. A reckoning must be done and what is due must be paid. You stay out of this matter now, and say no word about this to no one." She ordered the young boy, ushering him outside.

She closed the door after the boy had left, and turned slowly to me.

My heart was racing while I took a couple of steps back, away from her. I knew of my fate, and what was going to happen next. I knew who they were going to blame if Doyle's son didn't survive. I knew what they were going to do to me then.

Hushed whispers carrying rumors and lies would fester throughout the village like putrid rot taking over people's minds and tongues... I could feel it happening already, spreading out like wildfire. I could feel it at the back of my neck, running shivers down my spine, while I stood in the healer's cabin, paralyzed with fear.

"You came with Wolly, did you not?" The healer asked, grabbing me by the arm and shaking me back to reality.

"Y-yes. He's outside." I replied, not understanding the strange inquiry about my horse.

"Good." She said while shoving me towards the front door. "You take him and leave right away. Don't try to go back to your place to get nothing, they must be there already, waiting for you. You need to leave, Aydan. You have to get out of here. Now!" she ordered, pushing me out the door. "Take your horse and go. Leave this village. Don't stop for nothing and no one."

"B-but... I-I can't just leave!" I protested frantically, turning to her. "I've had nothing to do with this accident, I swear!"

"I know that, boy!" She snapped at me, sounding urgent. "But they are coming for you, no matter if that boy lives or not. They'll want someone to blame for this, and they have you in their hearts already. They'll blame you for all that's bad in the world now!" She untied Wooly's reins from the pole, tossing them to me. "People have been talking about you, whispering awful things. They hear your screams at night... they're scared of ya. And people do horrible, horrible, things when they're scared."

She moved to help me climb on Wooly when she saw me struggling to reach the stirrup. The wound in my chest throbbed and ached an awful lot now as if the pain had been increased somehow by all this panic and urgency.

"If the Doyle's are saying you're the devil, people will believe it," she said, handing me the reins. "They'll hunt you down, and kill ya to expurgate their sins. If you want to keep breathing, you have to leave this place."

She gave two quick soft pats on Wolly's head, murmuring something to him, and then glanced up at me. "Please, son. Go. There's nothing here for you anymore. Only suffering."

I rode away on Wooly feeling numb and disconnected from myself, watching the events unfolding as if it was happening to somebody else. I rode away because there was nothing else I could do. One minute I had my life as it always was, and the next, I had nothing more, only my horse, the clothes on my body, and the piercing aching in my chest.

I rode for a long while but with no particular direction or a specific place in mind. I rode until the stabbing pain in my chest dulled and turned to numbness. I wasn't sure how long I kept going, I think I must have passed out in my saddle because I woke up with a start and the sun already setting on the horizon.

I glanced around, trying to find my bearings, and noticed the familiar outline of canopy trees showing in the distance. Without anyone guiding him, Wooly must have done what he was used to and taken us to Redwood.

I pulled sharply at Wolly's reins, making him halt for a moment, so I could decide what I was going to do next.

I thought about what I wanted... Would I want to go back to the forest and face him once again, or turn around and keep running away? If I ran away, this could become like a splinter in my mind, a constant reminder prickling in the back of my head, telling me that I should have gone to him. Would I be avoiding these woods for the rest of my life? Would this choice torment me forever then?

I placed one hand over my chest and found my shirt all wet, drenched in blood.

I stared at the dark shape of the forest outline for a long time, urging the sky to send me a sign that never came, and when I couldn't stall this decision any longer, I let out a deep, long, defeated sigh.

I knew what I had to do.

I had to see him. I needed to see him face to face, one last time.

I slowly dismounted, groaning quietly to myself because of the pain that hit me, and then I took off Wooly's saddle, reins, and stirrup, placing them all on the ground.

"I'm going to take that trail now, Wooly," I told him, patting him on the nose. "But this time I need to do it alone, okay?" I brushed my fingers through his long mane and he bristled, pulling me closer with his head. "No, I know, I know. But I need to do this on my own, buddy. You can't come with me this time." He whined and nudged me softly on the chest. "I might not make it, Wooly. But you have to go on, bud. Go live your life. You're free now, you hear?" I hugged his large neck and leaned all my weight on him. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, old friend. I'll miss you the most." I patted him one last time and stepped back. He made a motion to follow but I pushed him away and ordered him not to. The path I'd chosen was not meant for him, he couldn't follow me now. Not this time. Not anymore.

He stood there in the dusk and watched me walk away without moving as I headed to the entrance of Redwood's trail one last time.

...