Before the Chrysalis [ch.3]

Chapter One
Chapter Two

~________-----------Ch. 3----------________~

Hours ticked by and the sky grew dark. Such a warm, beautiful summer night. The fireflies flashed their lights as they floated between the trees, dancing to cricket song. A monarch-pelted youth remained curled in the underbrush, alone still and long past drifted off. It was a fit -less sleep, for once, exhaustion taking hold of the young one like never before. So much emotion to experience in one day…if he were at all conscious he’d have been thankful it had kept out of his slumber. Alas, he didn’t stir, his body reveling in the secluded comfort of his current state of being, stretching it for as long as it would last.

Someone was watching him.

A stag stood not far off, eyeing the youngster through the grass. His stocky, impressive frame was silhouetted in the darkness, his dark pelt blending perfectly with the night if not for the streaks of gold running across this back, drawing the moonlight. His eyes matched them, a brilliant golden amber that glowed as brightly as the fireflies that flitted around him. One had to peer closely to tell the difference. They held a darkness too them - a hardness, perhaps- but also curiosity. After several moments of stillness, the buck moved forward, daring to come closer to the sleeping adolescent . So innocent…and so small! This was what was meant to replace him? As amusing as the thought was, it brought him neither satisfaction or the smallest of smiles - only pity. So vulnerable, and out so deep. It would be so easy to end the boy’s life right then. So easy to save him…

He was within feet of the sleeping youth when his head sprung up and ears pricked forward. He stared into the distance, following a small noise in the leaf litter to its source. A doe stood, eyeing him in the distance. The stag’s eyes narrowed, and they stood for a long time this way, staring at one another in still, silent contempt, as though speaking to one another without saying a word. Finally, after several minutes the striped male snorted and tore his gaze away, glaring down at curled-up whelp at his feet before turning and leaping off into the darkness, as silent as he’d come.

The doe slunk forward, picking her way stiffly through the tangled undergrowth. As moonlight splashed upon her it picked out bits of her gold in her striped and spotted pelt, though it was far too dull to shine like the stag’s had. She had been beautiful…once. Now she moved rigidly, head down and ears back, a permanent grimace locked onto her pallid drawn lips. She came upon the sleeping youngster just as the other had, but with far less consideration to his slumber. Stepping beside him, she glared down at him, glancing him over with dark, critical eyes, pale and colorless as the moon itself but with neither the glow or the beauty..
“Wake child,” she spoke harshly, the edges of her words cracking with age. When he didn’t move she bumped him hard with a fore hoof. Darcy stirred at that, flinching away from the assault and curling tighter into a ball, but he dared not drift back into sleep, cracking and eye and glancing up at the one interrupting his sleep. He tensed upon seeing the old doe’s all-to-familiar face glowering down at him.
“Well aren’t we the lazy git? Get up! We have matters to discuss, don’t we, little one? Oh yes, don’t think The Gods haven’t made me aware of your little ‘incident’ this morning. Don’t forget The Gods tell me all. Did you think you could hide from me with the divine leading the way? The light of glory grows brighter and brighter around you my love, how could I ‘not’ find you? You should be glad I found you first, in fact, before they did! Did you hear me? Up!”
Darcy could only stare unwillingly up at her as she spoke, bringing the day’s events to the surface again much to his dismay. Another harsh kick from her made him grunt in protest, but reluctantly he uncurled himself and staggered sleepily to his feet.

His limbs were stiff and unwilling, aching from the run, but he held them steady, standing tall and defiant before the old hind and forcing himself not to glower as she began to circle him. There was a time when this would intimidate him, cause him to cower beneath her gaze, but no more. The glimmer of apprehension in his amber eyes was only in fear of what she was about to address. He didn’t want to hear about it…he had ran from that, and Zharie’s words, never come back…he didn’t plan to, not in body or mind. But she would force him. Darcy saw the cool glimmer in the old doe’s eyes and knew this was far from over. He clenched his jaw and waited in dread.
“Why so tense love?” the hind cooed, “you have nothing to fear from me. I wish to congratulate you! Such a strong boy…I knew you were meant for this work. The Gods spoke to you, didn’t they? They told you that boy was of evil kin! Their power entered you, flowed into you and you overcame him… See how they protected you? They did not protect him! Oh no, they would not! They are of evil kin, all of them…”
The doe’s eyes darkened as he let her words, spoke with a bitter bite to her tone, fade. She stared past the young one before her, into the dark of the forest, as though the embodiment of evil danced before her in the form of glowing insects, mocking her. Who knows, perhaps in her mind, it did just that. Darcy stared at her in weary silence. He was used to her endless tirades, but while others would think her simply mad, Darcy had little choice but to listen. It was all he knew, after all. He was aware that others did not speak as she did, or feel as she did, and he had heard her be called ‘crazy’ from all sorts of individuals…but what did this mean to him? She was…his mother. Surely she had to be right…surely his whole life could not be lie.

“Well come on, speak! How did it feel, my son? What did The Gods tell you? I must know!”
Her full attention was on him now, her pale eyes intense as they locked onto his - unnerving for most, but the young stag found himself lost in their sincerity. For once, his mother was taking an interest in him…a genuine interest. She wanted to badly to be proud of him…what could he say? He was not proud of himself. There was nothing ‘divine’ about his actions. There couldn’t be…nothing divine would make an angel cry.
“I…I didn’t hear them. At least I don’t think so… I don‘t think they told me anything. I was just…he…he threatened me…and I reacted! I reacted…”
His mother stared at him with rapidly progressing annoyance, which turned even quicker to anger. Darcy averted his eyes, his stance deflating somewhat. He was not afraid…
“You didn’t hear them? Of course they spoke to you! They told me they had! You dare accuse me of not hearing it so told to me? You foolish, wretched child! You listen to nothing, not even the Divine Ones! They grant you with this gift and you deny them! You ‘reacted’…Look at you! You are nothing! Nothing without their power…a vessel! Why am I plagued with such insolence?! The Gods test me with your very presence!…but I will not fail them this time…not as you have!”

He stared hard at the ground, each new blow to his character landing like weights upon his back, causing his legs to shake beneath him. Nothing…he was nothing. What little hope he had saved and tucked away for a normal life had been dashed, and now here he was, forced back into cruel reality and what a disappointment he was here, as well. Was this what this was? Were The Gods testing him, too? Of course… Mother always said that life itself was a test, an endless trial till the Divine saw fit to grant you access to the heavens. That’s what this was all for…granted access? Darcy often pondered over this heaven and wondered if it was truly worth the pain. He couldn’t help but doubt it as he stood there now. His heaven was with Zharie…and she had told him never to come back…

“You think too much, my son. Always thinking. What goes on in that wretched disobedient head of yours? Why don’t you speak!? You dare keep things from your mother?” the hind went on, pacing back and forth, circling around him, always moving with that stiff-legged gait as her lips pulled back in a scowl, “ I blame them for this…I blame them all! Luring you into their midst, touching you with their sin! They touched your brother too, turned him against me. Infected him! He was so powerful…the perfect vessel and those demons took him from me! And worst, from The Gods!”
Her voice rose higher and higher, silencing the night insects as she bordered on hysterics, lashing out at some inner turmoil. The boy tucked his tail and laid back his ears as his mother’s eyes glazed. It frightened him, as much as he wanted to deny it, seeing his closest ‘companion’ in life lose control. Had…had he looked that way what he lost control? Is this what Zharie had seen in his eyes when he wished to drown the life from Seri at the stream? His mother got this way all the time when his ‘brother’ popped into the conversation. Darcy had never met this fabled stag the old hind both praised the highest praises and cursed the foulest curses… His mother knew few emotions aside from anger when addressing anyone else, but the young stag saw something else in the hardened doe’s eyes when she spoke of her ‘other’ son. Sadness? Anguish? The type of bitter emotions only deep affection betrayed could produce. The young buck couldn’t help but wonder if he were ever to leave if she would feel the same about him…

Yet he feared knowing.

The hind must have seen her son’s dismal fall in expression for she silenced herself and stared at him harshly. Whether her silence was truly for his benefit or not could never be known, but she sighed heavily and shook her head, speaking once more but with a softer, subdued tone.
“You are nothing…yet. But keep training, my love…keep that sense of justice in your heart alive and follow where The Gods guide you and you will see. You will be a better stag than your brother was. This was just the first step. The Divine Ones will forget your mistake of letting him live, you are so young…”
Darcy’s ears flicked forward, his head lifting from its beaten set at his mother’s words.
“Serin’s… alive?”
“Ah yes…his father brought a whole posse of 'them' to find me, to find you, and told me the unfortunate news. No matter, the little wretch will now know what power he deals with, at least. You are young…and so small, The Gods test you far more severely than…well, never mind. Do not be discouraged. They favor you, that is all, they need to-…”
Darcy wasn’t listening anymore, his wide-eyed gaze far off with his thoughts. Serin was alive…he hadn’t killed him! Zharie was spared that injustice, at least.
“…Darcy! You aren’t listening!”
“I’m sorry I…I’m tired, is all. You’re right, they have tested me, and I failed them, but I will work harder…tomarrow,”
His mother scowled, and Darcy saw the muscles in her jaw tense. He couldn’t hide from her. His disinterest in her words was far too obvious, and as the boy hesitantly lifted his gaze to meet her own he couldn’t help but doubt his own lack of attention. Perhaps she ‘was’ right. He had always liked to think so…always hung on her every word and whim. Why did now seem so different? Because he’d heard it all before, or…did his subconscious come to a realization about it all he was not yet truly aware of? The ‘other world’ called to him so strongly. Normalcy. His head was filled with romping fawns, joy filled laughter, the haunting eyes of pretty girls in distress…not on Gods. He had always been mother’s biggest disappointment, and here she was praising him, giving him encouragement…shouldn’t that matter? He flinched away from her venomous gaze.
“Yes…yes you will. I will make sure of it. It has been a while since Jarrah has visited, hasn’t it? I shall summon him,”
Darcy’s head shot up, eyes popping at the suggestion of his ‘mentor’s return.
“Mama no! ple-”
“Do not call me that!” The doe spat, lunging towards him, her discolored wrinkled face shoved swiftly forward at his own. Startled, and admittedly a little afraid, the young stag gasped and fell back onto his haunches, ears drooped and lips parted in a yelp that refused to surface as he saw her eyes glaze again, bitterness transforming her.
“Don’t… call me that…” she said again, her tone quieter now, hushed by the strain of some emotion threatening to burst forth from the deep, dark part of her where she kept it hidden. Seeming to realize this herself, she backed away quickly, her eyes suddenly darting about in paranoia. Darcy fought to slow his rapidly beating heart as he watched on high alert, fearing to move. The doe continued to back away, letting shadow engulf her form.
“Tomorrow then, Darcy. Noon. I will fetch him and you ‘will’ come, or I‘ll send him after you, and you know how much he hates that…rest now,” she whispered, a cruel edge to her tone completely different from her former praises only moments ago, before turning and trotting off into the darkness, leaving him alone with his thoughts and fears.

The boy stared after her at a loss, unable to protest and unable to follow. So many thoughts swam through his head at once he found himself fretfully numb. After several minutes of silence passed, the crickets started up again and lightning bugs drifted into the empty space around him, relieved that the negative energy in the air had passed. The young stag trembled. For him, it still hung there in a thick cloud, filling his lungs and his mind with each breath. He didn’t want to be alone…not now. He wanted to curl up with someone, let himself go, let all the stress, shame and fear flow from his eyes. He refused to cry. Even alone with nobody watching, he couldn’t let himself be that weak. All he had was himself, after all. He needed to be strong for that, at least…

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