Prologue: http://endlessforest.org/community/rubies-pond-short-prologue

(Please note, events in this story will not affect anything in the forest itself. And I am a lame writer. =/)

Corrected spelling error of 'Deermuda' and grammar issues.

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Chapter One - Discoveries

The following sunrise brought no hint that there had been a death the night before. As the dimness between tree trunks vanished, the luminescence of sun rays lit upon the still sleeping residents which named the Forest home. However, tucked in more secluded areas, various aged fawns, some barely a few days old, were already standing on wobbly legs and nudging their mothers for an early breakfast. The older youngsters were already entangled in play, their thin legs strengthening with frolicsome sparring.

Further away, in the birch section of the forest, an antlered doe with no young of her own stirred. The ground on which she slept was believed to be cursed, so it was no surprise to see that there was no other deer nor fawn around. The only company the female had were small robins and other assorted birds, which performed their morning chorus about the collection of large rocks known as the Playground. The doe herself was a dark grey colour, almost black. Still, unlike others of her kind, her beautiful face was framed by a purple mane, styled in a feminine, yet sinister fashion, partially hiding the deep emerald orbs which opened to the light of the new day. She rose her head which was adorned with two large red antlers, fan-like as they reached out beside her body and spiked suitably for combat. Their weight did not seem to bother the doe as she stood up gracefully, like a Queen of this deserted, so-called cursed place.

Lieka rose her elegant head to the air and inhaled, whilst her ears pricked for signs of life. It was still early, and there did not seem to be much movement nearby. With a slow sigh she closed her eyes and pictured the dream she had the night before. It had been months since Walter, the old stag, had passed away. Even still, the same dream had been repeating constantly every few nights. The image of the Demon Gazelle beaten down and bleeding, gasping beneath a transparent mask as he frantically traced out his symbolic identity into the blood-stained soil before him.
What did it mean?

The Queen shook her head. She was being silly; a dream is a dream. A figment of the imagination, nothing more. Slowly she stretched her weary limbs, and gave a yawn. Her throat was as dry as the soil she had been laying on, so it only made sense that she head to the local pond for a drink. Lucky for her, the lack of sounds and motions told her there hopefully wouldn't be any other deer around annoying her with cries about 'Deermuda dooming us all!'.
So, bringing one hoof forwards, then the next, she began to trot away from her sleeping spot within triangular rocks and over the crescent of the hill which led to the pond.

As the dark-pelted Lieka breached the top of the small hill, her eyes were greeted by a strangely horrific sight. If she had been any sort of a coward, or as frail as any motherly doe, she probably would have turned on the spot and bolted with screams. Instead, her eyes widened at what had become of the water.



The pond was covered with it: patches of thick congealed blood were floating on the once-crystalline surface, in turn attracting swarms of buzzing black flies. Where it had come from, was a mystery to Lieka as she remained rooted to the ground, staring in shock at the areas of red water.
What had happened here?
It was a strange sensation; she was not afraid, yet she seemed unwilling to get any closer. Only after a burst of willpower did the Queen of Darkness finally manage to pull one leg forwards, slowly forcing herself towards the beginnings of an apparent bloodbath.

The corpse from the night before was no longer tangled inbetween the reeds which grew in the shallows, leaving Lieka to concern over the source. Pausing at a fallen log, she eyed the blood closely. The smell was putrid and clear that it came from another deer, but who? The Queen drew back a little as the blood-water lapped the moist soil at her feet, disgusted, and she paused to look around for any other signs of life. It was strange to see the forest so lifeless, even if it were early dawn. Even the sound of birdsong was missing, replaced with the loud, constant buzz of the carrion hovering. Knowing that the source of their water usually came from the stone statue further up the stream, Lieka turned away, oblivious to the corpse's current location, and headed towards the small waterfall in the distance. Perhaps there would be an explaination to the blood at the Idol.

Was Deermuda dooming them after all?

It took barely a few minutes for Lieka to reach the weeping-faced stone, for along the way her slow pace had steadily grown faster and faster. In the back of her mind, the Queen knew that this couldn't just be a coincidence; the strange events that had been happening in the forest had to be linked somehow. Walter's suicide, the dissapearance of other deer, the strange weather, and now a blood-tainted pond. Surely if it were the work of the accursed Deermuda, wouldn't she know about it?

Already standing at the Crying Idol was another deer, calm and peaceful in his ways. Obviously he had sensed something was wrong, as Lieka approached, for the periodic glance in the pond's direction told her immediatley that he knew. Lieka recognised this stag upon appearance: a blonde pelt covered a slender frame, a single red stripe proceeding along each of his sides. His legs were coated in a darker shade, the same colour as the fan-horn antlers which grew atop his head. His face was the real oddity though; hollow eye sockets with red stripes progressing down each cheek, resting upon an expressionless face. He watched as the doe approached, the consistantly composed lips barely moving as he spoke.

"Cutlery is dead."