B2 Chapter 19: Emberwoods

The day after their entry into the Dreadwood – when Caledon abandons Vale

Caledon Brimstone stood in the midst of darkness and silence. With every ragged breath, he could feel the beat of his heart thundering in his ears, accompanied by the rush of his blood.

Even as he yelled out, the forest effortlessly consumed his words, subduing them.

The Shadow Woods.

The strange portion of the Dreadwood he had glimpsed from the clifftop bordering the township of Eleric. That pulled in the light around it, creating an abyss of darkness, even in the brightness of daylight.

Caledon stilled his breathing. Pushed his frustrations aside, when he realised that what he had witnessed had been another lie.

Another product of his Fear.

He had wondered, why he had been so caught up in the conversation, when they had desperately been searching for Shiver. Yet, his hallucination had masterfully tantalised him with something else he wanted.

Reconciliation with Vale.

An end to the sickening tension and distance between them. An end to the revulsion that surfaced, unbidden at the sight of her. He had fallen for it completely. Mustering the bravery to be vulnerable, to share what he struggled with. It even granted him the addicting reprieve that he sought.

Understanding, and empathy.

Then, his hallucinations had tore it all away, leading him away from her, and leaving him in the midst of an abyss of darkness.

Caledon called his Phobia to him, and for a moment, the emotions searing within faltered in his surprise.

His Phobia was burning, casting its soft golden light into the forest around him. Then, a familiar voice began to return to him.

“You fell for it again. What did you think you were doing, indulging in petty conversation and laughter when seeking out a friend that you lost?”

His guide appeared in a brief flash of golden flame, and Caledon

“I am disappointed in you.”

His guide’s words, unadorned with his usual insults cut deeper than they ever had before. Caledon stared at his feet, as he trembled, comprehending what he had done.

“You left Vale to fend for yourself, in your complacency. What do you propose to do now?”

Caledon shrunk into himself, feeling the panic begin to seep into his veins. He desperately looked around him, and not even a sliver of light greeted him from any direction.

He stared at his Phobia, the metallic torch from which the sickly golden flame flickered, brighter than before.

“All alone with your Fear, little boy Brimstone.”

“Zel. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Oh? Now you prevail upon me for wisdom. You do not deserve it, boy. Corruption has never been the purview of beings as petty as you elves. Die in the dark, for all I care.”

For a moment, Caledon sat in the heart of the Shadow Woods, in silence.

Then he stood.

“One chance, Zel. Give me one chance, to prove you wrong.”

“Oh, you would think to challenge me?”

For a moment, Caledon glimpsed a flash of… something, from his guide. He felt his heart begin to race, as he stared into the golden iris of the eyeball that flapped on draconic wings.

“Yes. To show you that I’m… deserving of corruption.”

“My generosity has its limits, dunce. Prove to me, that you are deserving of it.”

“How? None of the creatures in this Feardamned forest are compatible with my Fear. None of them are within my reach.”

Caledon looked around helplessly, even as the flames of his Phobia began to sputter out.

“You propose to win me over with brute force? With your will? You who so pride yourself on your curiosity. Show me your insight. For you have demonstrated scarce little of it. Why do you think I award you with the name that I do?”

Caledon steadied his breathing. Zel was not asking him to achieve something impossible, so whatever his guide sought for him to achieve, it was within his means. He only had to find it.

His sightless gaze, fell on the single thing within his grasp. The cold metal of his Phobia burned on his skin, a constant reminder of the Fear that he bore.

His Phobia, had been a mystery, from the moment it had appeared in his hands. After awakening in a strange room, with a kindly spider.

Shiver’s Phobia bore the promise of frost and desolation, that came with the whisper of a final winter. Vale’s towering scythe spoke to her budding affinity with souls, even if she wielded it inelegantly.

What then, did his Phobia signify?

Caledon thought back to the invocation he had received following his descent through Anhedonia…

[Corrupt]

An invocation of his Fear that he had sworn never to call upon.

How then, did it connect to his Phobia?

Caledon forced himself, into the darkest reaches of his mind, a terrifying prospect, even as shrouded in shadow as he was.

“My hatred. It corrupts me.”

He remembered, as he removed Triol Revenant’s head from his shoulders. The twisted monstrosity he had become, his head caved in from a blow inflicted by his father, his body melting into that of his guide, Silvanis propping him up in the hall of his shattered home.

The one moment, when Caledon had wielded his Phobia in truth.

Caledon felt dread seep into him, in equal measure to relief. For he knew, that he had spoken a truth that had dwelt deep within him, always within his reach, but never one he willingly reached for.

He sat, his legs crossed, heedless of the threats that could be yawning before him, in the concealed by the immaculate dark.

Caledon focused on his rage.

Then, he watched, as his ineffective Phobia, began to flicker. The golden flame burgeoned to life, casting away the shadows that encroached on him.

“Close enough, dunce.”

“Thank you, Zel.”

“You brought yourself your own chance.”

As the shadows began to part before him, Zel’s words echoed softly in the darkness.

“That is my first lesson. A Fearshaper of corruption, has only themselves to rely upon.”

---

Caledon focused on everything that ate away at him.

His father’s death.

His mother’s corruption.

The brief, reprieve brought of vulnerability, that had been a lie.

There was plenty, to fuel his anger, and the flame that guided him towards what finally emerged, as a light in the distance.

The Emberwoods.

One moment, Caledon strode in muted darkness. The next, he was met with the full force of crackling flames, that overwhelmed his vision, blinding him, as he recoiled. Whatever the Shadow Woods were, they had deprived him of his senses of sight and sound, only for it to be restored after crossing the boundary – leaving the domain of shadow and silence.

Then he stared, as he watched a plant begin to sprout before him. A black rose emerged, growing towards him, bearing in its black petals of voice, a small parchment.

He stared at it wordlessly, contemplating whether his hallucinations had returned so promptly.

With reluctance, he read the words inscribed upon it.

Caledon Brimstone

Welcome to my Dreadwood. You flee your companion, taunted by the hallucinations no doubt birthed from your own Fear. I invite you to indulge in the fruits of my garden, so that you might conquer them.

Vale Revenant and Shiver are within my protection. Trust that I will ensure that no great harm will come to either of them. Focus on your descent in the Emberwoods, to acquire the invocations needed to stabilize your Fearcore.

I will give you a day to descend.

Make the most of it.

-        Solastra Flora

He stared at the message, and his initial instinct was to rip it into pieces and to find Vale. Solastra Flora, the mother of Semille Flora, was not someone whose words he would instinctually trust. Especially, if she had managed to raise a demon like her son.

That being said, as he glanced into the forests around him, he saw that he had arrived at the precipice of the Emberwoods – where creatures somewhat compatible with her Fearcore dwelt. To his right, was the Shadow Woods, cloaked in darkness that he could easily find himself lost within.

Thanks to his hallucinations, that had led him astray, finding Vale would be an impossibility in this vast forest. Even if he did find her, without invocations and the ability to call his Fear, he would not be much use in warding off creatures that stood to threaten them.

Caledon took a deep breath, and he cursed Highlady Solastra under his breath.

The disappearance of their guide, Virgil. The expedience with which Mayor Galethorn, or as Shiver so affectionately referred to him – Galethrob – had rushed them into the forest. Shiver’s abrupt disappearance, leaving not a sign behind, yet leaving the rest of them unscathed.

It stank of a plot. Now confirmed to be the designs of one Highlady Solastra Flora. The very elf that held the answers that he was desperately in search for. With whom Silas, Viveria and his mother now resided with.

He was tired of being a pawn in the game of monsters.

Caledon’s solution lay before him.

The forest before him was brimming with life.

More relevantly… with flame.

He gazed up at the Emberwood, where it towered over him on white cliffs. The trees which peaked from the ridges of the cliff burned eternally, yet not a wisp of smoke was emitted, the air untarnished by ash. Although, gleaming embers did leap from their depths of the flames, giving them an ethereal shine.

It wasn’t long before he chanced upon his first creature.

The emberhare twitched its ears as it stared at him. As its name suggested, the black bunny was aflame. It twitched its whiskers, it leapt in a burst of flame, surging away from him, propelled by fire.

‘How does it feel, to be put to shame by such a pitiful creature.’

‘Says the floating eyeball. You haven’t been of much help.’

‘Haven’t I? Your lack of gratitude irks me. Was it not I that halted you from driving a blade of flame through the Revenant’s skull? Who gave you the seeds of insight, to lead you from the land of darkness and silence?’

Caledon snorted, ignoring Zel’s gloating expression – as much as an eyeball that flew on draconic wings was capable of gloating. Caledon’s voice took on a teasing tone, sensing that his achievement with his Phobia, had endeared his guide to him to a degree.

“You could have awakened me from the second hallucination. Apparently even the mighty Zel has his limits.”

‘What makes you assume I could? Will you rely on me to halt your blade whenever your Fear overwhelms you? Are you content to rely on others to manage your failings?”

His guide’s words were as harsh as they had been from the moment he first heard them, when he had acknowledged his Fear when descending through Anhedonia. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that as unkind and blunt as his words here, they rang true.

“So, dunce. Are you prepared to take the lives of the innocent denizens of this forest to advance? I doubt you have it in you.’

His phobia felt heavy in his hands. He could still remember the last time he had wielded it to take a life – the first he had ever taken. He still regretted the day he ended Triol Revenant’s life with a slash through his neck. His guilt followed him, in the form of the black skeleton that Vale.

He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding in.

‘Boo hoo. The noble elf is unwilling to take a life, what a surprise. Woe is you.’

‘Why can’t you be like the other guides? Agreeable and nice?’

‘Agreeability and niceness are not qualities of a being of corruption. Which is why you will not last long, Brimstone. Do not confuse my intentions, I’m here to relish in your eventual demise, not to assist you.’

Caledon hid a smirk. For there were many examples to the contrary.

One of the intricate puzzles that he sought to unravel, was Zel himself.

His guide was single-minded in his intent to degrade him, at every opportunity. Caledon was certain, that there was more to his grumpy guide, than met the eye.

Zel’s most recent words had led him to a fascinating revalation. His guide believed that elves did not deserve the powers that a Fear of corruption brought with it. Caledon got the impression that Zel considered it theft. He could understand the guide’s perspective, seeing as how their descent through Trepidation involved ending the lives of creatures to gain invocations.

But it did not make sense in the context of his Fear.

Who were we stealing from?

Most of all… if elves aren’t deserving of powers of corruption… then who was?