Beneath the Mistlebells 5
#5 of Beneath the Mistlebells
It started as a dream. A slow, numbing sensation that crept through her mind, like the whispering, fleeting sensation of an idea which hung on the edge of consciousness. It was the tip of her tongue and the edge of her eye. In time, it grew to encompass all of everything, like a poison spreading through a vein, or a cancer through her body. Slowly she came to realize that nothing would be the same again. A part of her ran, and found itself somewhere beneath the Mistlebells.
"Well, y'see, the forest is dying," said Redge.
"What?"
"Well, not dying. Well, maybe dying. Not really sure, she." he said, his voice guiding her through the darkness. They had been wandering for quite some time. It seemed somehow longer than her trip into the forest and the hare had begun to wonder where they were going.
"Why do you think it's dying?"
"Well, she, once, not long ago, all of this would be lit up. All different colours, just like the otherspace, she."
"Otherspace?"
"The lit lands, beneath the trees."
"You mean... All of this used to be beneath those lights?"
"Still is, she," Redge said, "Just the lights gave up their light."
"They went dark..." she said, thoughtfully.
Redge made a hesitant noise. "Not the same thing, but close enough."
"Always a riddle... Or a mystery," the hare said. "Never simple, is it?"
"It can be, she, but the simple truths often hurt the most."
Not for the first time the hare felt like Redge was letting on far less than he knew. She felt the frustration brewing in her again. The anger had risen within her several times since she had been rescued in the dark. She wondered how she had ever put up with the strange adventure she found herself on, but she controlled herself, and brought herself calm. Each time she thought of the wolf of shadow, with those bright burning eyes, and how she had felt afraid at it's presence. She decided to change the subject. "So where are we going now? Shouldn't we have been back at the clearing by now?"
Redge hesitated a little before speaking again. "Don't know about any clearing, she, but taking you to the owl, she."
"An owl?!" she said, her primal fear rising up in her. She was, after all, a hare. There were some natural fears which were always going to shock her. "This... Owl... Is he your friend?"
"Owl is friend of no-one, she," Redge said.
"So... Uhm... An ally?"
"No, she,"
She gave up. "Why are you taking me to him then?"
"To solve the mystery, she," Redge said.
"Ugh, more riddles," she said, largely under her breath. She just wanted to nap; to close her eyes - even though the pitch dark did not strain them. "Is it far?" she settled on asking.
"Almost there. Look," Redge said.
As she did, she saw the faintest glimmers of light, far off in the distance. She had to blink to believe they were real, but real they were. "I'd almost lost hope," she said.
"Don't lose hope, she." Redge said.
The ground around the owl's house was hilly - rolling lumps of untamed earth punctuated by tree-trunks like needles, with barely any roots showing around the base. Rich grass with white flowers littered the patches of open ground, where the light from the golden Mistlebells shone most strongly. It felt warm, like suddenly a summer's day had come to the forest, and specks of pollen hung in the air. The hare stopped and stared, breathing in the utter calm the place exuded. A sense of ordered stillness filled her, but for all the peace she felt, she wished she could hear something. The chirping of crickets, or the rustle of woodland creatures about their daily tasks. It felt like bottled sunshine; like a beautiful painting of a waterfall, but with no rush of sound to bring it life. It was as empty as it was serene.
"Come, she," said Redge, quietly at her side. He seemed nervous. Perhaps he felt it too, she thought. Then a second thought chimed in - perhaps he fears the owl too.
Redge knocked on the door whilst she followed the path up to the front of the house. It was made from a tree, but unlike the Mistlebells which towered straight up in sheer, flat faces, the tree that formed this hovel had twisted and morphed as it grew, creating a great curved archway and long tunnel-like passages, as well as wide, broken ends of hollow log, bigger than her body, but closed off with cut wooden doors or walls. In a moment of realization she noticed that it was shaped rather like a bird's nest, with the centrepiece a large, open-topped area, and twigs as large as her arm stretching to the top.
There, among those logs, were a pair of eyes, watching her intently, and, on noticing she had spotted him, a great beaked smile as well.
"Ho, there, travellers!" he said, stepping from his hiding place, and making Redge almost jump out of his skin. Redge darted behind the hare as quick as a flash. "And what might I owe this great honour?!"
The owl moved with a natural grace as he swept forwards, huge talons clacking on the ground as he shuffled towards the pair. He hopped down from the walls of the nest-like structure and stalked towards them. His coat of feathers was a magnificent white, and his eyes were deep as the darkness she had just escaped, and like the darkness it was only the rim of light that marked where his pupils began and iris ended. He blinked as he came to a stop, the pollen that had settled on him scattering from beneath him as he ruffled his wings.
Up close it became clear he was four times the size of the hare, with talons as thick as her arms. He struck an imposing figure, and it took much of her bravery not to turn tail and run, but something fought back against her fear. Who was he to make her afraid, she thought to herself. Lying in wait like some common thug or robber. She frowned. "How dare you scare me and Redge like this. You ought to be ashamed!"
The owl blinked.
"You're so much bigger you should know better!" she continued, pointing her finger out at him, to which he flinched in response. "Spare a thought for smaller things next time!"
"I'm... Sorry... Miss?" the owl said, taken quite aback.
"I'm..." she began, then faltered, before Redge peeked out around the side of her.
"She is she, owl, she." Redge said quietly.
"Reginald! Good to see you old friend."
Redge gave a small, nervous bow. "And you dear owl, owl."
"And she is... She... I see. Well, you best come inside," he said, and with that he turned and with a short hop and a tap of his talon against the door-shaped wall of his nest the entire face of that structure collapsed inwards, revealing his home which, it was revealed, was littered with a bewildering array of different objects, all of different colours and shapes. She stepped forwards after the owl, with Redge following behind.
Inside the owl's house was rather simple, made mainly of timbers which to the owl were more like twigs. They were laid haphazardly, with nooks in which the more interesting objects were kept.
"Feel free to look around, She, whilst I talk to Redge and catch up a little."
The hare nodded, and thanked the owl curtly for his hospitality. She still felt the lingering traces of her prior rage within her but she kept it contained, almost feeling a little embarrassed for her outburst. The first nook she came to had a paper fan, which must have seemed miniature to the owl but was as big as her hand and came with a stick about as long again. In her paws it seemed a perfect fit.
"A long time, it's been, mouse."
"A long time indeed I wandered outside the boundary, owl."
She turned again and found enormous gemstones, with glowing emeralds as big as her head. She marvelled at their beauty.
"And you found one such as this out there?"
"Struggling in the dark, owl, as we all might some day, owl."
"They're beautiful," she said, rolling her paw across them. They didn't feel like stones, and were slightly scratchy to the touch.
The owl nodded his acknowledgement, but turned back to Redge urgently. "You two must trust each other very much. What did she tell you?"
Redge began to relate the same tales the hare had told him as the Hare wandered further and further from the pair. She came across more paper shapes, as well as some strange, clearly artificial black rectangular objects which were slightly open on one side, where gold-tipped slots were hidden. She looked at them quizzically. She felt sure she should know, but she couldn't quite remember what they were.
"But she would have been killed!" the Owl protested suddenly.
Redge motioned the owl to be more quiet. "It's what she told me, owl."
The hare had looked around, but seeing them in close conversation she turned away once more. She wondered what part of her adventure was so miraculous to have been considered impossible to survive, but on balance she felt most of what she had seen was highly improbable - possibly bordering on impossible. For the first time in a long time she felt weary, and as she turned away she sought to distract herself with some other oddity.
The next item she came across was a car. A little toy one. It was bright silver and had glowing headlights. She blinked. She thought very hard, but she couldn't say what it was for, all those wheels and a strange little compartment, and a sleek shape. She knew with certainty it was a car, but when she imagined what it might do or where it might belong she despaired at finding an answer.
The owl held up a hand. "All I need to know is do you trust her?"
The hare didn't even look around. She was fixated on the vehicle. What was it? How had it come to be?
"She has never given me a reason not to, owl."
"Then do you trust me?"
She couldn't see, but the hare was sure the mouse silently nodded. She clicked a button on the front of the toy and the bonnet flew open, revealing a little moulded silver engine. She stared at it, uncomprehending, thinking on some level she should know it - feeling on some level she should recognise it for more than the strange shaped metal it was. Then her world erupted into pain, and for a moment everything went dark.
The next moment was full of bright spots in front of her eyes as she sagged forwards limply, but instead of falling she simply hung like a rag doll. It took her some moments to realise she was still standing, with legs trailing behind her. The toy had fallen from her grasp, lost somewhere beneath her feet, and below there was a long talon protruding from her midsection a foot or so before her. She gasped for air as the pain rolled through her again. She quivered and would have doubled-up were she able to move.
Owl was the first to speak. "Interesting..."
"Owl!" she heard Redge say. "What have you done?"
"Hmm? Oh, do excuse me," he said. With that, she felt herself lifted from the ground, spun forwards and dropped unceremoniously to the ground, where she landed roughly, tumbling numbly on to her side, her eyes locked open.
"She! Are you alright, she?!" Redge said, coming to her side.
She tried to move or speak but could only wince an whimper as she was certain she was dying. She inched her neck downwards to see the damage, and saw there the gaping black hole in her front, punched through all the way from her back. She marvelled in a giddy, panicked way at it.
Redge took a step backwards, a look of pure sorrow on his face. "I never should have... If I'd have known... But..."
"Oh calm down the both of you," Owl said, as he bustled about elsewhere, the banging of metal and sounds of shifting junk filtering through her senses as she struggled to focus.
"Owl... She's dying!" Redge said.
"Nonesense. She's fine," Owl said cheerfully.
"How can you... What do you mean, Owl?" Redge protested.
"See," Owl said, and his big feathery frame swam into the hare's vision again, his feathers pointing to her wound. "No blood. Not much of anything, in fact."
The hare looked down. The Owl was quite right. Whilst there was a gaping hole in her front section, there was no sign of any blood or tearing. Only wisps of black smoke which filled her insides. Even as she watched the smoke curled and joined together, and where it went, fresh, unspoilt skin returned in it's place.
"See, even she must admit I'm very clever," the Owl said.
"You're heartless, Owl!" Redge said, but even he could not quite believe his eyes. "What if you were wrong?! How could you have ever known?!"
"Well, firstly, to simply climb the Mistlebells would require more strength than any of us have. Even I cannot fly to those lofty heights. Secondly to survive a fall from that high up - even into, as you say, a pool of muddy lakewater, would be almost certainly fatal. Again, to imagine someone could walk away from such a fall would be laughable at best - let alone be running from spiders into the darkness afterwards..."
The hare's head swam as she tried desperately to focus beyond the pain. Why was it always pain, her mind protested. Why was that the feeling this world had decided she deserved the most. Why was it always her suffering, and her struggling that she must endure. She felt a sudden rise of strength from her anger, and with a sudden jerk, her arm reached up and clasped the nearest ledge for her to pull herself up on.
"Quite simply, she must be immortal."
"But what if she'd lied?!" Redge protested. "Owl, what if she wasn't telling the truth?!"
"Then you were wrong to trust her and I would have saved you the trouble by killing her now."
"You'd... Kill someone... Just because they lied?"
"My dear Redginald, you can be very silly sometimes. If someone lies about their actions I would hardly prove them wrong by killing them now, would I? That would be entirely counter-productive."
This time it was the hare's turn to speak. She clutched the steadily shrinking hold around her chest, dizzy from the pain. "The fact... I'm still alive doesn't mean you were right..." she said. "It just means you were afraid of being wrong."
They both turned to her.
"If I died, I could still have been telling the truth... It's just my... Body... Works differently to how you imagine it might."
"Well... I-" the owl began, forming a retort in his mind.
"Whereas you'll bleed all the same for the pain you've caused me, I'm sure," she said. She squared up to the owl. He was several times larger than her but still he recoiled a little.
"She..." Redge said, fearfully.
"I'd like you to take your hare and leave now, please, Redge," the owl said, a little bit hesitantly.
"She doesn't belong to me, Owl, she is she's."
"Yes... Yes, I am...." she said. The pain had started to fade, and the groggy dizziness that came with it started to disappear. "And you are going to regret-"
"She, please stop," Redge said.
"Why should I?!" she snapped. "Every single being I've met has just got me into more trouble! Why do all of you want to hurt me so much?!"
"She, this was my fault," Redge said. "Don't hurt Owl. He just doesn't know any better."
The owl snorted his derision at that comment, but Redge shot him a look.
"I'll be outside," Redge said. "When you're ready." he said, and stepped through the open doorway.
The hare snarled. She could just about stand, and so she hobbled forwards. The owl took a sharp step backwards, freezing as she made it clear she was heading for the door. "I'll be coming back for you, don't you worry," she said to the owl.
She stepped outside, and it was like walking into a sudden blast of warmth and sunshine. The pain had dulled to a slight ache, and she took a long breath.
"If there's any way for me to die, I'd be glad if it were here," Redge said, staring up at the Mistlebells. He was sitting at the base of the owl's house.
She followed his gaze. Moving from that darkness, cold and violent, to this sudden sunlight was suddenly disarming. Her dark thoughts leapt away from her, and she found herself trying to cling to her anger, but found it flittering away.
"I do, of course, accept full responsibility," Redge said. "It was my idea, after all. You're right. I've brought you nothing but struggle. Even leading you to this tender light was just burdening you further."
"Redge," she said.
"It's okay, She," Redge said. "Do what you need to do."
She hesitated, then sat down next to the mouse and hugged him tightly.
"She?" he asked, but he neither expected nor received an answer.
They stayed there for quite some minutes, and the hare felt some small measure of her suffering evaporate. She realised she just didn't have the heart to hurt him.
In time, they parted their embrace and stared silently at the still world surrounding them. Redge was the first to speak.
"Places like this, she, make us feel like it's all forever."
"Perhaps for me it is," she said, thinking of her new-found immortality.
"It's all going dark though," Redge said. "One bell at a time. Owl blames the spiders. Everything was fine before they arrived."
"And you, Redge?"
"I don't know, she" he said.
"But what do you think?"
Redge hesitated, but before he could answer there came a soft knocking from the owl's house.
The hare spun around, anger flaring in her eyes again, but when faced with the softened expression of the owl she tempered her rage a little. The owl was smiling apologetically, and in his hands he held two packages, loosely covered in paper wrapping.
"I... Ahem... Realize we might have got off on the wrong foot," the owl said.
She glanced down at his talon.
"I mean, made the wrong impression," owl hastily retracted.
She scowled at him again, a small hole still trailing smoke from her midsection.
"I mean... Oh heck," the owl said. "Listen, I wanted to make it up to you a little, so I brought you these."
She took the proffered gifts hesitantly. "They're not going to kill me, are they?" she said, sourly.
"Oh definitely not!" owl said.
She was sceptical, but with an encouraging nod from the mouse she decided to unwrap the presents. The first was a small piece of card which had a clip on one side and on the other a few words followed by a blank space. She read it aloud.
"Hello, my name is..." she stared at it in confusion.
"Open the other one," the owl insisted.
The hare sighed, but did as she was bidden. After ripping through the paper she found a simple black felt-tip pen. She stared at it curiously, and dabbed it on her finger, noting the black mark it left.
"What kind of gifts are these?" she said, staring at what she thought of as junk.
"She, I think.... I think owl's trying to tell you something," Redge said, thoughtfully.
Realization dawned slowly for the hare, and she thought for a long time. She thought of all that she had experienced, and all that she could remember since finding herself in the woods. She thought back on Blue and on the toad, on Reginald and on the owl. She thought of the wolf. "That's not me," she whispered to herself. "But I know what is."
She scribbled hastily on the piece of card with the pen, then paused, before nodding to herself. She clipped it to her chest-fluff, adjusting it carefully, before standing and heading down to a stream at the base of the hill. In it, she saw her reflection, and though the words were backwards, they read as clearly in her mind as any other.
"It's a pretty name," said Redge, appearing at her side.
"A noble name, certainly." the owl said, approvingly.
"Hello..." she said. "My name is Ruth."