Mason walked carefully beside Calypsa for several steps through the fey, but he'd gotten his bearings. He could hear Eve's song now drifting through the trees, but he made no sign, wanting to see if the nymph was telling the truth.

He relaxed when she took him towards the sound. A part of him wanted to have a little heart to heart with the nymph, maybe just to clear the air. But he was also still annoyed with her general coldness, and also never quite sure how 'real' any of this was. He usually told himself to pretend it was, and behave accordingly, so he was about to say something when the glint of something incredibly white caught his eye.

He put a hand out to stop Calypsa as he hunched and scanned, trying to smell and listen for any change. Calypsa was a warrior who had fought at Mason's side, so unlike most others would have done, she said nothing and looked, too.

Eventually Mason found it again, and his breath caught in his throat.

Some kind of white buck stared from the trees. Proud antlers rose like curving spires, black as pitch and a beautiful contrast next to the creature's fur. Its pink eyes didn't move, didn't blink or waver as they locked squarely on Mason.

"The Stag," Calypsa whispered. "You should not be able to see it."

Mason was afraid to move—to do anything that might spook the creature. He couldn't help but smile as he watched it, sensing something like curiosity, but also...need. When he couldn't stand it any more he activated Speak with Nature. The thing was practically shouting at him.

Follow me, commanded the creature with its eyes and through the bond. Then it turned and bolted.

Mason wasn’t sure why he’d trust it, but he didn't hesitate. He knew every step here was dangerous, and he also knew he was supposed to stick to the 'paths' and avoid the trees.

In fact usually as he walked he only ever stepped on the ‘paths’, and wasn't able to approach the forest at all. But somehow he could follow the stag. Its hoofs left some kind of trail, and Mason's world suddenly shrunk and narrowed as he squeezed through a new path he hadn't seen.

Calypsa was calling his name, but he ignored her, and soon her voice became just another in the endless chorus of the fey. In seconds, sweat dripped down Mason’s brow. He felt trapped, squeezed, chasing at full speed through a tiny corridor in the trees that would destroy him if he stepped wrong.

But the stag's path stayed true. Mason followed until the path ended and he reached a new clearing with mossy ground and a small brook. The stag stood on a rise, waiting for Mason before it moved down towards the water. Mason followed, still feeling a sense of urgency from the creature. As he crested the rise, he learned why.

Another white deer lay by the water. She made a pained, bleating sound, and it was clear she was heavily pregnant. The stag turned with wild eyes, and Mason finally understood. It was afraid. On the cusp of violence. Helpless.

Save her, druid, it told him through the spell.

Mason winced, not at all sure he was the right man for the job. He moved slowly to the animal's side, feeling the stag's impulse to ram him despite its knowledge of needing his help.

Mason stepped to the mare and took a breath. He'd worked with animals many times on his journey as a doom prepper—knowing having your own chickens, cows, and so on was an incredibly effective way to survive. But other than learning through books, he'd really only ever been to a few farms to watch something like a birth. And he'd sure as hell never learned anything about albino, fantasy deer.

He ran his hands over the animal's sides and stomach, trying to use Speak with Nature before he realized he was an idiot, and activated Ranger's Quarry.

The stag seemed to sense the magic and snorted as it pawed the earth, and Mason held up his hands to soothe it.

"I have to see what's wrong," he said, then looked over the animal, soon thanking God for his new and improved power. He could see everything, and the damn system even gave him a little text at the bottom that explained the problem. She was having twins, and they were somehow stuck.

"OK," he said, feeling some relief. That was bad, but probably not so bad. In theory he could solve that without magic or something else ludicrous. In theory.

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"I have to get them untangled," he explained, gulping a bit as he angled his way between the animal's legs. It wasn't exactly the way he'd intended to spend his afternoon, but such was life in the apocalypse.

He tried activating Blessing of Gaia as he worked, mostly because why the hell not. It did actually seem to calm the animal down, but it might have been Mason’s imagination. He did his best to feel for the kids, trying to ignore the hot breath of the stag a few inches from his neck, and the occasional impatient snort.

Using his x-ray like vision, he soon found the first calf and started manipulating it into place. The mother cried out, and Mason knew he had to hurry. With a terrifying feeling of ignorance, he steeled himself and pulled, yanking the animal hooves first towards him and hoping it wasn't too hard.

With a rather disgusting sound, the first animal came a good halfway out. With a few good pushes, it slopped into Mason's arms.

Mason nearly cried out in relief. And disgust. Both he and the stag seemed equally baffled at what to do. Mason cleared some mucus from the thing's mouth, and by the time its sibling was en route it was making a bleating sound as it tried to rise. In a few minutes that seemed like hours, Mason was sitting next to two new white deer, whining for their mother and failing to stand on wobbly legs.

He took a deep breath and washed himself in the stream, smiling as he saw the mother seemed fine, already fussing over her children.

The stag turned to Mason and lowered its horns in some kind of bow, and Mason matched it.

"Now, uh," he glanced around the clearing. "How the hell do I get back?"

* * *

Once the stag realized Mason had no idea how to navigate the 'woods', it seemed a little...sheepish.

Thank you, he felt through the bond, with considerable warmth. For risking your life.

"Don't mention it." Mason stared at the surrounding forest for a path or a break, and saw nothing but flickering shadows. "Ignorance is as good as bravery. I don't suppose you could...lead me back? Or to, uh, Eabha. I think that's how you say it. The great tree of the north. If you know where that is."

The stag stared, then went back as if to confer with its mate before stepping to Mason and lowering its horns.

Climb on my back, young druid. I will take you.

Mason expected this was something of an honor, and did his best to leap onto the stag's back without embarrassing himself. He gripped with his thighs, not entirely sure what to hold other than horns. Then the stag leapt forward, and out of practical necessity Mason grabbed its neck and antlers before falling off.

Hold on, he felt it say, maybe with a little amusement.

It charged straight at the trees, and Mason cringed before they opened and accepted the stag into a winding path so narrow it seemed impossible. He ducked and clung on for dear life, expecting his knees to get caught on something and pull him.

In a few moments, though, they'd returned to the larger, more familiar paths that Mason could actually see. The sounds of the fey returned as his new mount leapt towards Eve's voice with total confidence, and Mason actually started to enjoy himself.

"Your mate and child," he called. "Are they safe without you? I can find my way from here."

Again something like amusement flooded Mason through the bond.

I have no mate, it whispered back, leaving Mason entirely confused. Mostly he clung to the creature and tried to make some sense of that before the great tree rose into sight, still surrounded by the snows of the north.

"I was with a nymph," Mason said, looking for Calypsa. "She's probably back there somewhere, looking for me."

She knows you are here, the stag whispered through their bond, the tone of its 'voice' still vaguely mocking, though not harshly.

"Oh. Thanks for the ride," Mason said, climbing down and resisting the urge to pet the creature's muscled flank. It was a truly beautiful animal. Though he supposed it wasn't really an 'animal', or at least not in the sense Mason was used to. He was trying to figure out what else to say when the stag again lowered its head, its antlers coming within a few inches of Mason.

You have been tested, young druid, it said through the bond. And you have passed. Go in peace, and with my blessing. But do not use my gift to disrupt the godpaths.

Mason felt the urge to touch the creature's horns. They were familiar, much like Cerebus', he decided, though black instead of a dark brown. He reached out slowly, curling his fingers around one as if in some kind of handshake. It felt rough and strong, the tip sharp as a spear against his thumb. He was about to let go when some kind of energy flowed through it. Straight into Mason's arm.

He jerked in surprise, body locking as it had in the maker's hall and at the end of the nexus event.

[Blessing of the Ancient Stag. May its strength and wisdom guide your step. Walk the planes without fear.]

When it was over Mason took a deep breath and blinked, then realized the stag was gone. He turned back towards the trees, blinking in amazement. He could see them, now, could see everything. There were paths everywhere he looked.

A dozen creatures that looked like living trees watched him, though all vanished when he met their eyes. A tiny girl with wings waved, then an older voice hissed and yanked her out of sight.

Mason shook his head and turned back towards the great tree.

Another blessing seemed like a hell of a good thing, especially if it let him travel more easily through the fey. And the text said ‘the planes’. Did that mean he could somehow travel to other places like the fey? Not that he had any idea how.

But he reminded himself he still had a certain 'trickster' to pay a visit, and the thought made him smile. First Eve, though, and hopefully another lesson. Then he'd go back to Nassau, and meet the rest of humanity.

With a sigh just at the thought, Mason took the last few steps toward Eve.

"Maybe I should just stay in the damn fey."