The Origin of Fear

Chapter 15

It had taken Fera almost four hours to reach the Eternal Forest, even on a steed as light and swift as the one she had stolen from Silvë’s camp. She had galloped through the Kingdom as fast as the mare could go, constantly looking over her shoulder for someone to be chasing after her to bring her back to her brother. However, no one came, and it had taken her all of thirty minutes to find herself outside of the civilization she once knew. She had travelled through the plains, the tall grass flowing easily in the breeze as if death and destruction had not passed through it just days ago. She climbed up the small, red mountains that dotted the land, void of snow but made of dark rock and dust that magnificently contrasted with the constantly changing skies. She spurred her water-shy horse across the quick ravines that flowed like snakes through the underbrush. It was a long, beautiful ride, and Fera almost forgot the fate she was rushing to meet, distracted by the sunset that cast a breathtaking crimson light on the fields through which her horse all but flew as she urged it to meet the horizon. 

The ride was beautiful, but it was tainted by the horror of the realization of what she had caused. She hardly remembered the conquest of the Orcish Empire; she had been quite young, and the only memories she had of the ordeal was the Emperor looking into her eyes and falling off his throne, clutching his heart. Everything after was a blur, and she had forgotten about it until today. Yet the realization that this war was started over her, that thousands had died and would continue to die because of her, sent a wave of horror and nausea through her that could not be quelled by anything other than ending the Orc and Thursar rampage as quickly as she could. Innocents had died in her name. Children, women, the elderly, were slaughtered in their beds because they came from the same land as she. Her people had been decimated because of who she was and the abilities she had been born with. 

Abilities, she inwardly scoffed. This is a curse, not a gift. Since the day she was born, it had only made her isolated and afraid of herself. Sure, Fera could bring down empires without using a blade, but she could not use her abilities to avoid the repercussions of the actions she had taken long ago. This was the seed she had sewn, and this was the monster she had created. There was only one way to fix it, one way to stop the war and pay for the murder she had committed by her father’s command all those years ago: with her life. 

It was long past sundown, perhaps even past midnight, by the time she finally saw the dark, gnarling, twisted trunks of trees that only the Eternal Forest could be home to. As she approached, her horse slowed to a stop of its own accord, and Fera didn’t blame it. Simply looking up at the branches that looked like a dying man’s mangled limbs filled her with dread and made her heart heavy and slow. Swallowing thickly, Fera dismounted, and her horse had already turned and begun to walk away when she slapped it on its rear. She hoped it would find its way back; she wanted at least one of them to return. 

She watched the horse bullet away on its swift feet for far longer than was necessary, keeping her eye on it until it disappeared into the horizon and wishing she was on it. When it left her sight, she turned back to the forest, and all at once everything seemed to grow darker. It sent a fresh wave of dread through her, and for a moment she lost her nerve. She turned to the horizon again toward the direction where she knew safety was waiting, and wanted nothing more than to get away from this wretched place. For a moment, she let herself envision what it would be like to leave the reaches of the Eternal Forest and return to where she wished she could be. In her mind’s eye, she returned to the camp and into Silvë’s small tent. She returned to the Bifrost site and to Asgard, to the castle and to the chambers that had become hers. Then, to her slightly chagrined surprise at where her brief daydream took her, she wandered just a bit more, and returned to the assuring and vigilant arms of a liar clad in gold and green. 

A shadow rustled in the dark forest, and Fera stepped past the first row of trees, swallowing thickly as she tried not to think about Loki or his lie. He was quickly pushed from her mind, however, as a small entourage of Thursar soldiers with crude, painted masks that looked like they were made of skulls emerged from that shadows of the dark trees to meet her.