Cerberus Rex, Nameless

Tree Keeper, 4

Tree Keeper trudged through the forest back the way the stag had emerged. Creatures of the wood followed, some licking the blood dripping from the stags pierced neck. A pool of it drained onto Tree Keeper's shoulder, rivered down his arm, and trickled off his elbow. White doves fluttered over his head. A bobcat cried. Tree Keeper went to the spring where the stag always began and ended his daily journey. Then he laid him on the softest grass where the stag often slept. Tree Keeper knelt before him, the animals watching at the border of the stag's home. They did not enter it without invitation. Tree Keeper was the only exception, though he might not have heeded the law at this point. He stroked the stag's white fur, pausing when he remembered the strange hands that had so gently washed them. Tree Keeper would not have felt prepared to care for the stag had she not thought to help him. He curled his fingers into his palm, thanking her again in his heart.

Bury him, the man had said. Tree Keeper wouldn't. He lifted his face toward the sunlight pouring in. He would let the stag rest in his favorite sleeping place under the sun it loved and let it and the earth consume him. None of the predators would disturb him. He was the one creature they respected. Like Tree Keeper, he had protected them. Tree Keeper hung his head as he thought of his failure. Anguish threatened to swallow him like before, but he forced his composure and lifted his head.

"The words of people are strange to me, and I do not know them so readily to offer you much in parting. But we wish to thank you. You protected us and watched over us. It seems something stronger has broken into these woods and destroyed what we should have guarded. Forgive me for freezing." He clamped his eyes shut. "Had I reacted to the danger I sensed—you might still be alive." He bowed his head to the floor. "You deserved a better son. I am sorry. I'm so sorry."

Heat and pain tightened his throat. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. His breath came in like a tremor, and he struggled to let it back out. He did not see the glow at first, which came from the stag's corpse, but it grew bright enough that he lifted his eyes. He blinked under the light. Some of the animals scurried away. And then it faded. Tree Keeper gazed at the spot the stag had been. Not a trace of him remained. Tree Keeper touched the grass. It still felt warm from the blood.

"Wha—?"

A weight rested on his head. He looked down at the white skin hanging over his shoulder. The familiar fur bent under his fingers. He explored it further by touch. The shape brought him pause and dread. A face. Antlers. His chest filled with a confused gasp, and he scurried to the spring to look at his reflection.

The stag of the forest now rested upon him.

"It is a heavy responsibility..."

Tree Keeper looked up, wide-eyed at the masculine figure looking on him from where he stood over the water. His dark-skinned torso rippled with strength. Fossilized wood covered his shoulders and came up his neck to frame his jaw. The antlers Tree Keeper now wore reflected on him where his long white hair flowed. His piercing eyes took the sight of Tree Keeper in, and then the stern expression softened.

"You have inherited my duty, as the tree keeper ought to. But then. I knew you would."

"You—"

"Yes. I was the stag of this wood," he said. "And I walked into that arrow."

Tree Keeper's eyes burned. "Why," he croaked. Why would he whom Tree Keeper loved and greeted every day, whose presence brought him joy, let himself be killed?

"Because it was time. My purpose has concluded. I waited two hundred years for you and six more to allow you to mature. Enough so that I could join those that came before us."

"You mean you were—"

"Like you." He nodded and stepped so the white cloth wrapped around his waist parted at the knees. "Every tree keeper inherits the stag's mantle. When he does, he leaves this wood to serve the world. And then, he returns knowing he has made it safer."

"I am expected to leave my home?"

"Have you not already decided that you must?"

Tree Keeper bit his lip. He had. Someone destroyed the moon wells, and he did not know the state of the Eclipsed Shrine. Without those, tree keepers couldn't continue to be born. And if the tree keeper became the stag, that meant that it couldn't either. If their purpose was to serve the world and keep the wood safe, no one would come to do it. Not if the magic didn't resume its flow.

Tree Keeper lowered his head. "Where do I go?"

"Find those you met today. Their intention aligns with yours. And like I once did, you will need allies."

Tree Keeper's fingers dug into his palms. "Can I—do this? I am only six years old," he said.

"I was only three," the stag replied, a haughty quirk lifting the corner of his lips.

Tree Keeper swallowed.

"This mantle is a part of you and will fade from sight. But should you need access to the power you now hold as the stag of this wood, you may call upon it. We are champions, and like me, you will find your name."

"What name did you find?" Tree Keeper asked.

"Soul Promoter, Champion Alma. And should you need my direction, I will answer as your nurturer."

Tree Keeper swallowed. All this time. The kind stag who raised him knew him. Why did he never appear to him as he stood now? Tree Keeper didn't have the courage to ask. He bowed his head. "Then I will try to help the world," he said.

A tender smile crinkled the stag's eyes, and he bent to place a hand on Tree Keeper's bowed head. "I know. Good luck, my son." White flashed over Tree Keeper, and the stag winked out of sight.

Tree Keeper, heart in his throat, straightened. The mantle placed upon him turned the color of a sunset. When he touched it, it vanished under his hand. He gasped at his reflection, and he lowered his arm. In place of the headdress, crimson cloth wrapped around his torso and waist. Tree Keeper looked at the sleeveless wrap and touched it. The course texture brought him some comfort, and he stood in the direction Feri and Asinis had gone.

He knew what he needed to do, but he also knew nothing about the world beyond the trees which had always sheltered him. He would find those that helped him. He would make them his allies. And he would save the magic which protected the life of the world he intended to save.