Crackling and bubbling filled the air as the pot suspended over the campfire trembled. A tall man with four-point antlers and the legs of a stag stood over it, sniffing the contents intently then coughing as the smoke blew towards him. He fanned the smoke away, blinking his eyes free of the tears that welled up. With a croak, he announced, "Burr, soup's ready."
"Mushroom again?" The flap to the tent peeled open and a younger Cervidien, half-man, half-deer like the fellow at the fire, stepped out. Evenings were getting colder, prompting the younger man to wrap his fur cloak tighter. He shuffled over and squat down on his haunches by the fire, placing his hands out to warm his calloused fingers.
"Mushroom and pine bark. Saving the nuts for when we go back to the crell. If we arrive without contributions, we will not have much chance of finding you a mate," the taller of the two said as he stirred the concoction. The chunky brown liquid was ladled into an oblong bowl, and handed over. The younger Cervidien stared at it a moment in silence before nodding.
"Thank you, Shua." His voice was quiet, and not entirely convincing of the gratitude it ought to convey. Shua arched an eyebrow at his young companion as he served up his own supper.
"Young bucks like yourself need to strike out on your own. Preferably to settle down with a woman. You would not wish to end a lonely vagrant." Shua stirred the pot, removing it from the fire so that what remained would not burn. Getting no response from the lad, he continued, "Burr, my lad, single folks like ourselves are not allowed to own land. That is the dream, the legacy: land."
"You never settled down," Burr responded, bringing the bowl to his mouth, feeling the steam tickle his face. He hesitated, gently bringing it to his lips to test the temperature before pulling it away. Too hot.
"There was a shortage of eligible women. And when we got more, I was already too used to my own company to bother with a doe of my own." Shua sat on a stump nearby and waited for the cool air to equalise the hot meal.
"Yet you took me in as a fawnling," Burr remarked, dropping down his cloak onto the chilled ground and sitting upon it.
"I will try anything once." Shua slurped his soup, exhaling a satisfied sigh after the first taste. Burr ate his with far less gusto. It wasn't just the soup that was leaving a bad taste in his mouth.
"I'm going to gather more firewood." Burr grabbed the hatchet and tied it to his hemp belt.
"It gets dark early this time of year. Do not stray far," Shua cautioned.
Burr said nothing more as he walked into the closest cluster of naked trees.
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Dying light created a blue haze through the bare branches of the deciduous forest. The few conifer trees that prowled the woods congregated in clusters as wary minorities. Firewood stacked in the shield-like carrier, Burr also brought back some pine boughs to brew tea with. Flickers of blue lights occasionally teased the corner of his eye. Every time he turned his head, nothing was there. Burr's hair stood on end, but he stayed his course.
The smoke and warm glow from the campfire guided the last leg of Burr's journey. A prickling sensation and an itch in his nose preceeded an unexpected sound: child-like giggling. Blue lights danced in his peripheral vision, only to dart away the moment he looked. He spun around and called out, "Who's there?"
No answer came.
A chill swept over him as Burr returned to his course. The late autumn frost was coming in aggressively, considering the sun had only just set. Something was wrong. The smoke and glow were gone. Had Shua extinguished the fire and retired early? Burr went from ambling to trotting. Upon proceeding past a tight guard of trees he halted. No tent. No campfire. Only a square patch of mud and a circle of charred stones. Burr stared at the empty clearing in dismay.
The giggling started again. Burr spun around on his heel. "Whoever is there, show yourself!" Burr commanded. In the distance he saw a blue flame float in the air. An odd, warm sensation tingled all over him. Every bone in his body vibrated at a discordant frequency from the rest of his tissue.
"Burr!"
Suddenly, the trees in front of him reflected a warm light, outlining the silhouette cast by his shadow.
"Burr?" It was Shua's voice. Burr spun around. The camp was there, just as he had left it. Burr looked down at the firewood he still carried. In his other hand was the hatchet, though he did not remember drawing it.
"I... uh... thought I saw something..." Burr stammered uneasily. He dared not tell Shua the truth.
"Not a hungry wolf, I hope," Shua said, peering into the leafless trees. They both studied the surrounding wood in silence. Other than an occasional cold breeze, nothing stirred. Shua shook his head and took some of the wood, tossing a log onto the fire without waiting for it to dry. It smoked, hissed, and popped, but Shua did not seem to care.
Burr set about stacking the rest of the wood as neatly as he could to their depleting pile. "You know these woods well?"
"That I do," Shua responded as stirred the coals with a stick.
"Have you ever seen a blue light in the woods?" Burr asked, but did not dare to look at Shua, afraid of seeing the amused curl of his lips.
"Near the marshier areas, I have. Strange creatures inhabit the area. They revel in misleading travellers. Never follow them, should you see one." Shua yawned and stood up. "But I've never seen them hereabouts. Did you?"
"Perhaps. And perhaps, I am just seeing illusions of waking sleep," Burr murmured.
Shua crossed his thick arms. "Well you better get a good night's rest tonight. We leave for the winter crell in the morning. It will be nice to sleep in something sturdier than a lean-to, and share stories. Maybe Croa will be generous with his spiced mead."
Shua's words buzzed around Burr's head like a gnat, and he gave a few small, tight head shakes as if to try and dislodge them. Something about his presence, while reassuring, didn't feel quite right. Burr grumbled something that he wasn't even sure were words and crawled into the tent they shared. He knew Shua would stay up a while longer, but Burr was very tired.
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Burr's head hurt. Why did it hurt so bad? Did I fall asleep on a rock again? Are my antlers caught on something? Oh right, that annoying noise. Why is Shua splitting firewood at this hour? Burr rolled over, feeling the irritation build, boiling under his skin. Shua told him to get rest, and then proceeded to make a racket. Burr wasn't even aware he stood up. He didn't bother to pull on his tunic, striding out in his small clothes. Though dim, the campfire's light seemed too bright and burned Burr's eyes. Shua's back was to him. Just go back to sleep. Burr's hand was on Shua's shoulder, spinning the larger Cervidien around. Burr's hand gripped a hatchet. Wait... Shua had the axe. Why am I...?
"BURR! BURR!"
Burr didn't remember throwing Shua down. Shua was almost twice his size, yet Burr stood over his mentor with the axe raised. The younger man's shadow danced in the firelight over the stunned Shua. The axe fell to the ground and Burr covered his face with his hands.
"Burr, what's gotten into you?" Shua asked, on his feet in the blink of an eye.
"I don't... I don't..."
Giggling.
Who was laughing? Who would laugh at a time like this? Burr cast an ominous glance about, searching for the source with the intention of making it stop.
"Burr, what are you looking at?" Shua asked in a hushed voice. He picked up the axe but never took his eyes off of the lad he'd been fostering.
"Don't you hear them? The children?"
Shua was silent. He looked around only briefly, but his gaze quickly shifted back to Burr. Shua shook his head.
"There's someone there. I swear it!" Burr insisted. In the distance he saw the straggling branches silhouetted against a blue light. He pointed to it and Shua looked.
"There's nothing there, Burr." Shua looked back to the addled young man. Burr's eyes watered and he quickly spun around, turning his back to Shua. Only then was he aware of the cold night air. Burr shivered, nearly jumping when he felt Shua's hand on his shoulder. "You best get back inside and get warm."
"No... I... I can't lie back down," Burr's mind raced over the strange experiences. How could I have threatened Shua like that? Why is Shua so calm? If their roles were reversed, Burr was certain he would flee. Or maybe that was Shua's plan once Burr had gone back into the tent. "Please... I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Don't..." Burr turned around. Shua wasn't there. There was no sign of him at all. "...go."
A new shiver rattled Shua's nerves as a cold sweat broke out, this time of terror rather than chill. On the ground where Shua was he saw something, but his eyes were not quite adjusting to the gloomy twilight. He walked over and crouched down, brushing away damp fallen leaves to reveal a small jade bear. A sharp pain attacked him, right above his right eye. He put his hand there as if expecting there to be a wound, but there was nothing. His headache worsened.
When Burr looked up again he saw several of the blue flames zipping about, no longer laying hide and seek. They swam and swirled in the air before him, illuminating a path. Shua had warned him not to follow them. Burr ran in the opposite direction, for he did not wish to go towards the light.
"Shua! Shua! Where have you gone?" Burr called out. Something was wrong and he needed to get away. He needed to find safety. Shua was the only one who ever offered that to him.
A low growl could be heard up ahead. Burr ignored it, jumping over a fallen tree, his cloven hooves leaving tracks in his wake. The growl grew louder and a large, shaggy void blocked out the remaining light on the western horizon. Burr stopped and looked up with wide eyes. The familiar chuffing sound of a bear sent Burr galloping in the opposite direction. Behind him was a series of crashes, chasing him. He should have known better than to run. But Burr's higher faculties fled, and everything was hostile and frightening to him.
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Burr was breathing heavily, weaving gracefully around trees and over low foliage that would seek to grab his slender ankles. He wasn't sure where he ran or how far, but at some point he couldn't hear anything behind him. He slowed and dared to look around, ready to launch into another flight if the danger still presented. Everything was still. The cold night air attacked the sweat on his bare arms, and he began rubbing them vigorously.
"Give it back! Give it back now!" A child's voice called out.
"Who is there?" Burr asked.
"Help! Help!"
Burr frowned and marched in the direction of the pleas for help as if in a trance. As he approached, again he saw the blue wisps of fire, but no longer paid them any heed. Burr came to a clearing where a boy sat on a bench carved from a log. The boy looked up as Burr approached.
"My little brother is lost."
Burr blinked a few times, feeling a pang of headache, but also a sense of recognition. He was sure he knew the boy, but he could not quite remember. Burr looked away. Although the boy emitted no light, every time he looked too closely at him, his eyes seared as if he were staring into the sun. "Where did you see him last?" Burr asked, turning his head and only keeping track of the boy in his peripheral view.
"We were fighting over a toy. A jade bear. Have you seen it?" the boy asked.
"Uh..." Didn't I see one at the campsite. Camp site? There was no camp site. "It was..." Burr tried to get his bearings. "I'm sorry. I don't remember where I saw it."
"I need to find him. But we have to avoid waking the bear."
"I am afraid he has already awoken."
The boy stood up, looking alert. He glanced around, cocking his head to the side, as if listening. "Then he's in trouble! I need to find him. I need to make things right. Will you help me?"
Burr wasn't sure what he could do. He was cold, alone, and disoriented. He didn't want to be around this boy. He couldn't explain it, but the boy made him increasingly uncomfortable. As Burr was trying to make up his mind, he felt a cold hand slip into his. He glanced down at the boy, winced, then looked away again. Still, he managed to nod.
"I can try." How the boy responded, he was unsure. All he felt was a squeeze of the icy hand and then the boy let go. He heard twigs snap and leaves rustle as the boy presumably walked away. Burr resumed watching him with quick glances.
"Where are your parents?" Burr asked.
"Asleep."
"Why are you two awake?"
"My parents are always asleep. They can't help it," the boy picked up a torch with a blue light. Where did he get it? How did he get it? Why was it blue? Burr couldn't make sense of any of this, but his worn out legs continued to place one in front of the other.
"Surely they need to get up and start preparing to go to their winter crell," Burr muttered.
"What's a crell?" The boy asked. This took Burr by surprise. The boy was Cervidien like himself. How could he not know?
"It's where we all go to wait out the winter, before we go our separate ways in the spring. Don't your parents go to a crell?" Burr asked.
"No. Maybe. But they're asleep. They don't go anywhere."
"Then how have you and your brother been taking care of yourselves?" Burr was growing wary of this boy.
"We take care of each other. The wisps show us where we need to go," the boy answered.
"The wisps are dangerous," Burr repeated.
"We're still here."
"Are you?"
The boy stopped. He stood and looked over his shoulder at Burr. Burr finally was able to focus on the boy. His brown wavy hair, his blue eyes, his ruddy skin, his straight nose. The blood drained out of Burr's face. Realisation struck. The reason he knew this boy was...
"....What is your name?" It was a short question, and yet each word seemed drawn out of Burr like sludge.
"Wos," the boy answered. Burr licked his lips, anticipation tickling.
"And your brother?"
"Burr."
There was a sound like shattering glass and Burr screamed in agony. The splitting headache was too much and he fell to his knees, cradling his head. Everything went black.
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The damp, cool sensation on Burr's forehead was refreshing. It was also the first sensation he was aware of as the waves of consciousness broke over him. His head was cool, his body was comfortably warm. Wherever he was, it was suitably dark. His eyes fluttered open and he could smell smoke and cedar.
"There now... he's waking up," said an unfamiliar voice. Burr rolled his eyes around, feeling too sore to crane his neck. As the dimly lit room came into focus, he was aware that he was in a log structure of some sort. He could barely make out the ceiling joists above him.
"Where... am I?" Burr croaked.
"The healing hut," returned the voice.
Burr felt the pain in his head return. His shaking hand went to his forehead, closing around the damp cloth. "How did I get here?"
"We fear the spirits have reclaimed you. But you began speaking to a new one. Shua?"
Burr exhaled. Shua. He closed his eyes again. "No. Shua isn't a spirit. He's real. He took care of me after... after..."
"...After your brother died?" the voice asked. Burr opened his eyes, looking around. It took him a while to focus on the wrinkled woman who stood at his side.
"...My brother... I don't have... my parents abandoned me. I..." even as Burr was speaking these words, something didn't feel right. His stomach churned and his heart raced. These words weren't true. But he wanted them to be.
"No, Burr. You had a brother, Wos. And he died. His ghost comes back and takes over. We've tried everything to keep him away. The travelling shaman said that opening your skull to let the spirits out would work. And you were happy for a time, although your hands didn't work the same. But this past fall, you began mumbling about Shua and kept trying to run into the woods."
Burr's eyes brimmed with tears. It was hard to take. "No! NO NO NO! You are the evil spirits. You are the liar. Shua! Shua! Wake me up! Save me!" Burr flailed and shouted, ignoring the pain and the warnings. He tried to sit up, but firm yet craggy hands pressed down on his shoulder, pinning him to the cot he rested in.
"Burr! Burr you need to remember! I know it is hard, but do not let them win! Remember your father. Remember your brother," the woman said.
"No! No I can't. I will not!" Burr fussed. But her words were like a spell over him. He could see himself and his brother vividly now, as children.
Yes. He could see them, sitting on the log his mother had carved for them. The curved indentations were just right for sitting in comfortably. The scroll work, however, was done by their more artistic father. Their father. Yes. Burr could remember. He was asleep in the cave they were living in for the bright seasons. Burr played with a green stone bear, and Wos took it from him. He demanded it back. His brother took particular delight in holding it just out of reach. Burr tried everything to retrieve the precious figurine back.
The two boys fought, and the jade bear fell to the ground, smashing into a rock. Burr stared at the chipped bear as sadness and anger ruptured from within.
"YOU RUINED IT! YOU RUIN EVERYTHING!" Burr shouted, kneeling by the broken bear.
"It was an accident!" Wos declared remorselessly.
"NO! You're jealous Father gave it to me! You're mean and hateful!" Burr accused.
No retort came. Wos sprang upon him, the palm of his hand landing squarely in Burr's jaw. Burr reciprocated by clawing inefeectually at his brother's face. Wos pinned him down, being the older, was quick to overpower him. Burr knew he could not win. Be screamed. He bleated. He bugled for help! His shill, prepubescent voice rang out. What came next, he didn't want to remember. But the memory was there, and would not be muted.
Like a poked bear, their large father, adorned with a heavy crown of antlers, came lumbering out of the cave. Burr vividly recalled his large black eyes and how they reflected the midafternoon light. Burr was ready to tell his father what Wos had done, but his father did not stop to interrogate them. With one strike he knocked Wos off of Burr and threw him to the leaf-littered ground. Elation! Burr knew his father would save him. But that joy and smugness quickly faded when he realised something wasn't right with his father.
Everything slowed down, and all Burr could see was his father's face. A vein in his temple protruded and pulsed, and he could hear the click of a clenching jaw and grinding teeth. His father's eyes were wild, glassy, and pupils frightfully large as he pinned his older brother down. Within an arm's reach was an axe, wedged in an old stump. No. It was just to scare Wos. It was just to scare him. Burr squirmed.
"I've had ENOUGH of you two! How about I just split your head open? Then I can finally get some peace and quiet!" A sour taste filled Burr's mouth and his jaw tingled. His father raised the axe and... and...
Burr blacked out. He could never remember what happened after. Bur sobbed, and felt the pressure on his shoulders lesson. "There, now, Burr. Do you remember?"
"I don't... I don't..." All Burr could remember was afterwards being wrapped in a blanket and held tight by his mother. She rocked him and soothed him. The death rites were held in a few days, but it was all a blur. His father disappeared after that, and his mother wasn't the same. Neither was he.
The two of them struggled to keep things together. But when his mother drowned in a fishing accident, he was taken in by the community. No kindly hermit named Shua took him in. He was shuffled from couple to couple for the bright seasons. Some were kind. Some were not. But then he started seeing his brother. And then no one wanted him. Shamans, wise men, healers, they all tried to ward the spirit that haunted him.
"...So... Shua... isn't real." Burr finally said.
"No, my dear, no. I'm sorry. We wanted to believe this would help. But I'm afraid we've only given the spirits a way in. Please forgive us, Burr. Forgive us."
Burr slowly sat up, narrowly avoiding a bout of dizziness. The woman took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. Although he had just awoken, he was exhausted from the recollection. "...Maybe it's time I stop trying to push out my brother. Maybe I should have just let him stay with me."
"The dead need to move on," the wise woman insisted. Burr shook his head, feeling a wave of nausea from even that slight gesture.
"But then... what happens to me?"
The silence that existed in the room became burdensome. Although her eyes were narrow crevices between folds of her aged skin, Burr could still see them roll off to the side, trying not to look at him directly. Her jaw hung open, her few remaining teeth jutting out from her hardened gums, her tongue sliding around them as she tried to think. "Maybe you need to move on too. We have done our best for you. But if you will not allow yourself to become well, if you keep inviting these evil spirits in, then we will also have to move on from you. The decision is yours. The birds fled early, and there has been much fog. The coming winter will be long and hard on all of us. We need every able mind and body."
Burr laid his head back down on his pillow. He knew what she was saying. If he did not push away the lost spirits which clung to him, if he did not fight his demons, they could no longer support him. He could not have stopped his father even if he tried, but the guilt ate at him. But now, his shame in burdening the loose community which wintered together surpassed even his guilt. He needed to make peace. He needed to set his brother free.
But... Shua. Shua took care of him unconditionally. Burr turned his head. If only Shua were here. He would never leave him in the cold.
"Burr... Burr wake up."
Burr opened his eyes and gazed into Shua's face. Feeling immediate warmth and security, Burr smiled.