The Hornless Stag

The stag with broken horns trembled weakly, shuddering rather than thrashing. The black wormlike thickness of ink still crept over its body, sewing it to the ground, and writhing like maggots on a rotted corpse. The forest was quiet, leaves fell from the trees as the season changed to autumn, explosions of colour touched the tumbling leaves. A beautiful young fawn stood amidst the trees. She walked over to the trapped stag, nuzzling it for a moment, then laying down beside it. Her ears twitched while she watched the surrounding woods. Another figure, a doe, strong and in the prime of her life, stepped from the brush. Her form was slender, but powerful. She walked with grace, but a hint of haughty pride could be heard in her steps by the surrounding forest. The doe was confident, nature scoffed. Approaching the fawn, the doe snorted, looking down at it, the fawn turned her head away, shyly, then stood.

Gently the two deer extended their necks, stretching, watched the enveloping forest, and in a slow motion, nuzzled the fallen stag, once. Brief as a final kiss between lovers before saying goodbye. The stag, eyes still closed, snorted. It pulled its legs beneath itself, powerful tempered muscles pushing it away from the forest floor while ropes of corruption strained to hold it down, quivered, and snapped.

The writhing broken tendrils pooled into a black mass and darted away, moving like water downhill across the ground. They formed, strapping one on top of another creating fake bone and muscle. The seasons changed, winter was barren, the trees were leafless, the forest even more quiet than before while the form became something with legs, teeth, claws, muscle, thick hide. The doe and the fawn stood, watching. The doe stepped forward, but the hornless stag shook its entire mass, as if shaking off an unknown itch, and moved before the doe, standing in front of it and the fawn, and lowered its naked, de horned head, legs becoming rigid and straight, stretched at angles rather than pillars beneath it.

The blackness formed, substance dripped from its mouth, the seasons changed, and the beast of oil made a noiseless snarl, a mass of fangs, claws, and rot. The stag charged forwards, hooves pounding the earth as the beast leapt. The seasons changed, spring faded into summer, blossoms of new life turned to solid shades of dark green and ripening fruit. The creature noiselessly struggled, claws swiping at the face of the stag, but unable to reach it. It writhed in agony as the antlers grew harder and stronger, larger and more powerful. Blackness dribbled down onto the stag’s face as it stood with its head tilted back, holding the impaled creature high on its horns. The blackness tried to change forms, to flee, it no longer wished to turn its pain to revenge and hatred, but now to sorrow and desperation to cling to life. The antlers grew stronger still, jagged tips protruding from the back of the trapped beast.

The last flailing of escape slowed, and ceased. The best went limp, and hung in the air. No noise disturbed the woods, the stag shook its head violently, and cast the creature from its antlers. It stood proud, dominant in its territory while the beast at is feet turned to rot, and returned to the soil, feeding into new life and regrowth.

Turning slowly, the stag looked to the two deer behind itself. The doe’s ears flickered, and it walked away into the woods. The shy fawn bowed its head in a gentle dip in the stag’s direction before turning to follow the other female.

The stag shook its head, shaking off the last of the blackened creature’s flesh, and preceded to return to the water. The woods were silent while it walked. Perhaps it knew it should run, and that there were others counting on it, but it could not bring itself to do so. Cenias emerged from the woods, the Keldorei walking on his muscular violet hind legs towards the stream.

He kneeled down by it, and wept bitterly.