DRamos97

“He’s so big,” a bobcat cub exclaimed excitedly. “The biggest snake ever!” “His muscles feel strong! Like rock!” spoke a young raccoon, who dared to paw at the enormous side of the anderthon. A young fawn approached the great serpent shyly, flanked by two young hairs. Naytal, the mighty Anderthon, glanced at her. The fawn approached gently, and Naytal could sense though she was shy, she was curious. His neck craned low, starlight’s sheen radiating from his black, spotted scales. “He won’t harm you, Tharanta,” a doe, the fawn’s mother said. “He’s saved our forest, after all.” The whole congregation of young animals in the forest of Vawkuu watched as Naytal brought his face near the fawn’s. The fawn saw her reflection in his great eye. Naytal’s eye communicated such sensitivity and care for the small one. She brought her face up to his and felt his cheek. Naytal kept his head low and moved steadily as the fawn smiled with an innocent laugh, enjoying the close encounter with the snake. Meanwhile, Jeiokha and Ameia, the two snakelings, remained near Naytal, radiant to see their giant friend in high spirits to receive such a welcome in their home forest. Both snakelings were the last of a breed of serpents called the Coadagu—and both were regarded in high esteem in Vawkuu for having helped thwart a vile beast: the Belial, Zared. Now Naytal was receiving the thanks for having crushed the insidious Jade Root: a white, wicked tree that had slept dormant beneath the ground of Vawkuu for many years. “So…he’s only here for a little while longer, right?” Mari, the squirrel, asked Jeiokha. The snake boy turned to her and replied, “That’s right. But I hope he comes back and visits.” Kosla the opossum, skittered beside the snakeling, as well as Vi, the shrew. “Must have been wicked to see him crush the Jade Root!” Jeiokha boasted, “With my own eyes!” Ameia meanwhile watched Naytal as he tenderly flicked his great forked tongue against the fawn—a snake’s ‘kiss.’ But just as they mentioned the Jade Root, little Ameia saw the tiniest flinch in Naytal. The anderthon glanced back toward them at the very mention of the ashen tree. Ameia twitcthed her head with concern when she thought she saw the slightest sting in Naytal’s eye… When Naytal saw her, however, he smiled again. The anderthon was mute and said nothing, but his smile was enough to claim he was all right. Ameia smiled back, but deep in her instincts, she wasn’t so sure Naytal was being completely honest. *** The morning to follow was cold and damp and misty. Jeiokha’s home—a burrow in a meadow near the shore, was getting too cold for his liking. He lay in a trance, brought on by the autumn chill, before he realized he had slept in through morning. He yawned, snake jaws wide, before he decided the burrow was uncomfortable and set out to find his friend Ameia. She had told him she had found a more suitable thicket for them to sleep in with adequate warmth and comfort through the winter. Slithering over the dirt and fallen dry leaves, Jeiokha noticed how the trees looked so bare. It was his first winter, and he had never seen so many trees without their leaves before in one place. The sky was silvery gray above, and Jeiokha wondered if he might get to see snow before he hibernated. As he traveled, the snake came to a familiar river. Deciding to take a drink on his way to the lagoon, he bent down toward the running water and sipped. Then, from underneath the ground, he felt the disturbance of something enormous moving. He looked up and found the great anderthon taking much bigger, sips from the water across from the river. “Naytal!” Jeiokha called to him. Naytal looked up and smiled to his little friend, tongue-flicking as a greeting. Jeiokha sprang over the river, using the stone peaking from the middle to get across. “It’s going to be winter soon,” Jeiokha said. “It will be my first winter, Naytal. The first time I ever hibernate. You must have before, since you’re older.” Nayta gave a nod amiably. “Ameia is going to show me a comfortable place to hibernate for us both. I suppose you’ll be going back home like Sheila said you would.” Naytal smiled sensitively and came down to nuzzle Jeiokha, who returned the gesture. “I hope we get to see each other again. Hey Naytal? Do you… think I could see you fell a tree one more time before you go? There are a few more dead oak trees around here.” Naytal seemed to ponder a bit and then craned his head up to search for one of these oak trees. He and Jeiokha found one together. It was perfect for the display, huge, old, heavy, and seemingly indomitable. The two snakes nodded to each other, and Jeiokha watched Naytal make his way toward the old tree. Jeiokha noticed, however, that the anderthon didn’t seem to have the same zeal as before. Or confidence. But he dismissed this as the doing of the colder temperature–now that winter was on the forest’s borders. He coiled up and prepared to watch Naytal’s specialty one last time before the winter. *** Naytal paused a moment before the oak tree. The wood was dark and still very sturdy. The tree was indeed dead and fit to be brought down by his great strength. But he felt a drone in his mind the closer he drew under the shadow of the tree. His muscles tensed and felt stiff, as though bound inside his flesh. “Go on, Naytal,” Jeiokha said from behind him. Naytal Had to brace himself. He saw shadows of the ashen tree he had felled days ago— the Jade Root. Jade Root was no more, this was only an oak tree. He had won his battle. He told himself in his mind that he had to prove it to himself through the tactile experience. He sprang forward and coiled around the oak tree cycling around its base and its trunk. He felt a whisper in his mind. A threatening, laugh, or a taunting word. No, no, he simply had to focus. It was in his imagination. He constricted around the tree after getting a good grip and put his strength to the test once again. The forest began to spin around his head. He felt he wasn’t alone. But he must be alone, only with Jeiokha, his friend. He was demonstrating a simple feat for him. And yet he felt something cold, weighing him down inside. He tried to shake himself out of it and return to constricting— worried he had spaced out in the trance. The bark was starting to crack and pop around where Naytal’s body was coiled around the tree. You’ll be sorry. Naytal shuddered. The words felt so real, but it had to be only in his mind. He had already conquered that foe. He continued constricting. I’ll haunt you in your dreams. I’ll take everyone away. The mighty serpent tried to constrict just the same, trying to shut it out of his mind. It was hard to focus. He had a hard time paying attention to what he was doing as he constricted, trying to bring it down. The anderthon quivered and faltered. He was tempted to stop, but he felt it would be foolish. There was no need to stop. He was safe, but the words felt so real just as he remembered them. His breathing became forced, and he was hissing in distress, but he tried to keep pushing through for the simple display. Everyone. Everyone you love. “Naytal? Are you all right?” Jeiokha’s voice called. A vision flashed before Naytal’s eyes of Jeiokha being struck by the Jade Root and falling to the soil. He remembered last time how Jeiokha hadn’t been able to breathe. The memories of what the Jade Root had spoken to him began to ricochet in his head and seemed to echo from the mountains in the east, repeating themselves. He couldn’t shut them out, hard as he tried. Naytal was overcome with panic. He slipped cleanly off the oak tree to get off of it as though escaping a dangerous threat. He looked all around him and couldn’t find Jeiokha. The forest was spinning around him. He could no longer see a paradise, or any kind of remotely peaceful scene. He didn’t register the safety around him, he could only perceive the echoes of the threats of the Jade Root surrounding him, and assaulting him. He began to race away. As much as he told himself it must surely be in his mind, he felt afraid, confused, and ashamed. *** “Naytal?! Naytal wait!” Jeiokha called out. Jeiokha saw Naytal dash away to escape the wintry forest. He was panicking! The child snake could see something was tremendously wrong. He could sense Naytal’s fear— palpable, and saturated. He didn’t know if Naytal even heard him. Jeiokha trembled in place. Naytal, his hero, went from being the wonderful friend he knew to panicking in terror seemingly from nothing. Slithering up from behind him was his friend, Ameia. The pain in her eyes showed she shared the same concern. “I don’t understand,” Jeiokha said, shaking his head. “He’s so upset…just from the oak tree. There’s no sign of anything dangerous anywhere. He wasn’t even afraid to confront the Jade Root-” “I know,” Ameia said, her eyes following where Naytal left. “I knew something was troubling him. I just knew it but I didn’t know what.” Great and powerful as Naytal was, as brave as both snakelings had onces seen him, he seemed tremendously under attack by something neither snake child could perceive. They followed him to the lagoon, dead dry oak leaves taking flight in their trails, and found Naytal at the bank of the waters nested in great patches of crabgrass. He was coiled tightly, and they both sensed he was trapped. Jeiokha kept one question in his head…was it his fault? *** Morning transitioned to afternoon while Jeiokha and Ameia watched Naytal wallowing in the crabgrass by the lagoon waters. The two snake children were disturbed together. How did one so mighty and victorious as Naytal suddenly become like this? Wings flapped from behind, alarming both the young reptiles. It was Lang, the Grandfather Hawk. He leaned forward with scrutinizing eyes at where Naytal was coiled. Jeiokha approached the hawk. “I don’t know what happened. He just…got so afraid and…” Lang sighed, “I saw from above. He was constricting a tree for you when it happened.” Ameia came to Lang’s side too. “It’s like he thought the tree was the Jade Root. But he can’t possibly…I mean…he defeated the Jade Root.” Jeiokha didn’t add anything. His gaze was fixed on Naytal. The snake boy felt like he had swallowed a big stone whole and it was sitting in his gut. Was this his doing? Did he hurt Naytal by asking him to bring down one more tree? Lang brought one wing around Jeiokha and the other around Ameia. The two snakes nestled themselves against Lang’s warm cloak of feathers, finding extra consolation now that it was the brink of winter. “I can see Naytal may be having haunts,” Lang expressed. Ameia looked up at the Hawk. “Like from a ghost?” Lang bowed his head and started to chuckle, though the laughter was cut short by a shudder. “I should hope not. Vawkuu is protected by its share of specters. If one of those ghosts could be malevolent, I shudder to think what could be done drive it away.” Jeiokha shuddered at the thought. He had seen what his dagu spirit guardian could do to protect him and preserve him. Were there any such spirits who did evil? He’d never imagined. “That said, children,” Lang went on. “There are other things that can haunt someone besides a ghost. A memory.” “You think Naytal remembers the Jade Root?” Jeiokha asked. “But when I conquered Zared at Celepons, no one was even afraid to remember Zared. Or afraid to talk about him or anything.” Lang twisted his head to look down at Jeiokha. “Maybe so. But Zared’s defeat was something unique. Zared’s greatest weapon was fear. He had power to erode and sicken us and subject us to him that way. When Zared was defeated, I believe that power was broken entirely. But it is rarely so for other enemies.” Jeiokha saw the hawk’s wise eyes gradually go lost. He was staring into the past, and he saw pain. Weariness. “Jeiokha, Ameia. Do you remember the fires?” Jeiokha constricted tensely on that fateful day. When Lord Jepson and his cultists kidnapped him and Ameia. That same day Zared set the forest ablaze with sorcery and attacked Vawkuu with his slaves. “That was war,” Lang said. “I’d never seen anything so despicable in the Fallen Lands. After that day, Jeiokha, Vawkuu was left in ruins. Not just from the fires, but from the memories. We fought brother against brother, sister against sister. Mother against daughter, father against son. Blood was spilt. I, myself, killed again…” Jeiokha nodded solemnly. “I saw Frynon the deer fighting Koato, his brother,” he replied. “Zared had taken him as a slave…” Lang comforted Jeiokha more tightly. “Frynon nor Koato were the same since,” he said. “We were all oppressed by the violence, the terror…we had to awaken dormant instincts to fight for our survival. Be mindful, both of you, most creatures in this sacred grove had never bitten anyone in their lives, let alone drawn any blood.” Jeiokha’s eyes watered and he suddenly felt his breath go shallow and shaky. “Like when I bit one of Jepson’s men…I could’ve killed him. Enemy or not, he was still a human and…I was so afraid.” “You see, Jeiokha?” Lang said gently. “A memory can be an oppressive haunt. It’s like a scar.” Jeiokha saw Ameia looking at the three scars on his back–ones Zared had given him. “Yes,” Lang said. “Some scars are signs of victory. They show what we’ve concurred. Noble deeds we’ve done. But many scars are more than trophies we wear in our flesh. Scars never heal. They remain soft and vulnerable. And they can be reopened. And not all scars are in our bodies. Many scars are in our minds.” “So,” Ameia sobbed, “You think that’s what’s upsetting Naytal? Scars in his mind? Of the Jade Root?” Lang closed his eyes. “It may be,” he answered. “Even if he has conquered that terrible thing for us, we can only imagine what he endured personally. What he felt, how he was hurt…what the ghastly thing had even told him. Maybe threatened to do to him.” Jeiokha shirked tightly, finally succumbing to his fears, sobbing, “This is my fault.” “Jeiokha!” Ameia objected. “You didn’t know Naytal was gonna get hut.” Jeiokha sighed. “I know, I know. I wish I had though. I really, really wish I had. I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Lang’s eyes softened. “He’s someone you look up to,” he said. “When you cause your own hero to stumble, you question yourself. Even doubt yourself...” Jeiokha was quiet for a moment, watching Naytal ooze in place in his quiet agony. When that quiet moment had passed, however, Jeiokha steeled his spirit. “Well, what do I do about it?” he asked. “Doubting myself never solved anything before, and it won’t solve this now.” Lang seemed to ponder. “What do you think you should do about it?” the Grey Hawk asked. Ameia asked, “You can say something, can’t you, Lang?” Lang nodded. “Perhaps. And perhaps Naytal would indeed listen to me. But Jeiokha, maybe you should be the one to do it.” Jeiokha peered up at Lang with a bit of surprise. “Naytal is precious to you, son. And from what Sheila has told me, you are precious to him,” Lang proceeded. “What do I say?” Jeiokha asked. Lang smiled tenderly and answered. “What you think is true. And what you think he needs to hear. There are many truths out there, Jeiokha. Truth is a powerful pillar to lean on. Truth cannot bend to anything. Truth can’t be ignored. Truth is all there is. Truth endures. Anything untrue dissolves. Many truths are admittedly hurtful…but there is always a truth that can be good medicine for any problem anyone is facing. The perfect medicine.” Lang nudged Jeiokha toward Naytal. “Go on now. And don’t worry about knowing what to say. Don’t try to plan it out. Just say what you know to be true, what Naytal needs to hear from you now. Whatever comes into your heart.” Jeiokha looked back briefly, then toward Naytal. He hesitated a moment and slowly slithered to the water’s edge near the crabgrass to speak to him.

The horizon bled like a fresh wound with the light of the setting sun. The chill of autumn was a herald of the winter to come and, far below in the mountains and valleys of Montana, the trees were steeling themselves for the winter. The sound of their plane’s engines reverberated as they followed the railroad tracks. From so high up the whole thing looked like a model train set to Captain James Sphinx. The freelance pilot and his cohorts Tex and Webster were grateful for any job they could snatch up. Usually, they found themselves in more exotic locales battling airpirates and warlords. But a job was a job and planes had expenses. It was a simple job, follow the tracks report any potential hazards, but more importantly they were to ensure a freight train with precious cargo reached its destination. Much to Sphinx’s chagrin there had been a mix up of schedules and now he and his Misfit Squadron were hot on the trail of the train instead of flying escort. Thankfully it was easy to