Cerberus Rex, Nameless

Tree Keeper, 2

"Wait, Feri!" A man in his mid-twenties, and wearing a soiled coat tripped over the rotted log he failed to spot among the ferns and ivy. The bark crumpled under him, and bugs scurried out from the moist fortress. Asinis managed to keep his face out of the dirt, but the impact jarred him from head to toe. A tickling sensation crawled over his wrist. He gasped, shuddering as he shook off a centipede. He rubbed his rattled head, regretting every decision he'd made that week. He hadn't anticipated getting lost while evading the prison guard in town.

Feri—no bigger than a five-year-old child—skidded to a stop. Taking advantage of her rabbit legs, she leapt to close the distance between her and Asinis and pulled on his sleeve. "Come on, Asinis!" She cursed behind the mask hiding her too-wide mouth and pointed teeth. "I can't use magic right now. Please, get up!"

Asinis, spurred on by the threat of capture, pushed himself up by his skinny arms. Feri bounded deeper into the woods, her long, pink, floppy ears finding their way out from under her hood, but she slowed down for his sake. He glanced sideways at her, unfamiliar with the guilt forcing him to keep up instead of disappearing alone as he intended when the explosion they had caused first happened.

"Halt!" Asinis didn't dare look over his shoulder when the guard shouted. At first, Asinis thought he meant him and Feri—until he heard the cheap chain mail stop shushing like loud whispers. "We go no further. They're in the hands of the guardians of this wood now."

Guardians of this wood? A magical reference. Asinis didn't like the sound of it. Especially not knowing what it was. He held no interest for nature's magic. The guards gave up their chase, and Asinis and Feri continued running, though Asinis wondered if that were wise. Unknown magical creatures—or beings—often contested saps foolish enough to seek refuge in a haunted domain. Asinis gulped the humid air. His lungs burned. Spending his life in study hadn't encouraged him to exercise, and this current exertion threatened to flatten him.

"Feri. I don't know if I can go any further," he began.

"Just a little more, Asinis. We're almost there!" Her voice jarred him like nails on slate. It pitched high then low and rubbed like gravel. He sometimes couldn't guess what she said, and most of the time didn't know what to think or where to look when she spoke. It hadn't been like that when they first met. The magical explosion had ruined her somehow. Changed the way she looked and sounded. She'd not explained it to him, and he wondered if she even knew.

"Almost where?" he wheezed.

"Here—oh!" Feri slid to a stop. Asinis almost tumbled over her, but he managed to take control of his limbs in time and avoided somersaulting over her head. "Oh no," Feri whispered.

Oh no, indeed. Asinis had seen a sketch of the Waywin Moon Wells in one of the archives, and this didn't look right. The painting he remembered depicted a gleaming silver basin with a white wooden arch, which balanced what he thought looked like a silver gravy boat. Moonlight would gather in it and then pour into the silver basin, which dispersed the moonlight throughout the region to grant blessings and magic. Its purpose often morphed into one of protection or nurturing as its deity presided over mothers. But this one—something had torn it apart.

"Is that... a moon well?" he asked, its state causing him to question himself. Bits that could be natural pebbles or part of the ruin itself scattered far and wide. Asinis couldn't imagine anyone piecing it back together.

"It was..." Feri stepped toward it. "What happened?" Asinis sucked his lips into a frown. "Asinis. This is bad. What if the Eclipsed Shrine is broken?"

"The Empire would not let that happen," Asinis said, but his voice wavered unconvincingly and did not distill her dread. If the eclipse shrine hidden in the center of this forest fell, Feri, one who drew her magic from the moon, would never cast a spell again.