[SRP] Curses, Haunts, and Lies (Long Jon and Ullita)

[Geyser Eelborn]

(Takes place directly after "Premonitions of Frost")

Jon had wanted to get started with building shelters this morning, but Ullita had insisted. There had been a look in her eye ever since he woke up. She knew something was wrong. And she was right: he owed her an explanation.

I should have known she’d figure it out someday. She’s clever. And I haven’t exactly been subtle. He’d been dodging around the story for the last few months, ever since he met her in spring. But he knew even a Cerynei like him couldn’t keep jumping around the question forever. She’d want to know eventually. And she deserved to know. Anyone who lived in the Gloomwood deserved to know.

“We…used to be a herd,” he said at last. “There used to be many of us. For generations. We lived here, in the Gloomwood. Cerynei and foxes and ferrets and others. We were happy here.”

Addie was perched atop his antlers, watching Ullita’s face, searching for a reaction. But she remained silent, as if willing to let him speak for their shared past.

Ullita, too, was quiet, hanging on every word. She seemed to be taking him seriously at least. She’d never believed any of his stories before, brushing off his beliefs as mere superstition. I wish I thought that was the reason I’d never told her any of this before. But we all know that isn’t true. We all know there’s more to it than that. “I don’t know how long we lived here. But there were a lot of us, when I was a foal.”

Finally Ullita spoke. “What did you call yourselves?” she asked, her voice soft.

Jon smiled. “We called ourselves the Gloomwood herd. Though our neighbors, the Skysong, called us the Gloomwooders sometimes.”

Between his ears, Addie flicked her tail, brushing the top of his head. “They meant it in a nice way. The Skysingers were nice.”

He swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick. “Yeah. Yeah, they were.”  

[Geyser Eelborn]

In spite of herself, Ullita found herself hanging on Jon’s every word. She’d been curious about his past for so long, and yet, every time she tried to ask him, he’d dodge the subject. He was completely unwilling to share his past with her, and she’d found that…really upsetting. At first it had felt like he was lying to her, making it all up as he went along so that he could trick her and manipulate her. It had made it really hard for her to trust him at first. Not that I trust anyone at first. She’d only stuck around in the hopes of finding out the secret behind that little lantern he carried. Then, as time went on, it had felt like…well, it had felt like Jon wasn’t lying. It had felt like he knew something that he didn’t want her to know—like there was some dark secret that she could not be allowed to know about. When she realized this morning that she might finally be able to get him to open up to her, she’d found her heart pounding in her chest at the thought. She’d finally learn the mystery about this place. She’d finally found out what he’d been hiding from her all along.

Ullita frowned. “What happened to—never mind. Tell me later.” She could only concentrate on one mystery at a time—if she tried to think about something else, she’d get distracted. She didn’t want Jon getting off the topic. Besides, maybe the answer to what happened to the Gloomwooders will explain what happened to the Skysingers, or the Skysong, or whatever they were called. Patience, patience. She had to be patient.

She’d never been that good at being patient.

“So what happened to the Gloomwooders?” she asked.  

[Geyser Eelborn]

“I’m getting there,” Jon said. He hid a surge of irritation at his question. He couldn’t rush it. He’d miss too much detail. Too much context. And without context, nothing would make sense. He wished she would be patient and let him tell the story in his own time.

Then again, he realized, she had. He’d been hinting about it for months, holding her off with lies and half-truths about his family’s fate. She had, in fact, been remarkably patient with him so far, and that fact made him feel ashamed of himself for the irritation. She’d had no reason to trust him, and in fact, he’d long since realized that Ullita was not naturally a trusting person. She was one to assume the worst of everyone unless given a reason to otherwise. So the fact that she’d stuck around with him so far even though he’d acted pretty suspicious…

Maybe she likes me. He already thought that they were probably friends, but Jon wanted to be more. He’d become good friends with Ullita and grown to cherish her quick wit and her stubbornness. But will she still want to be my friend after I tell her all of this? Or will she be mad at me for not telling her earlier? Will she want to leave the Gloomwood? This is my home. I don’t want to leave it. But I don’t want to lose my friend either.

“Our herd was ruled by the druids. We always had three of them. They kept the god happy. They healed us when we were sick. They interpreted the signs.” He noticed the way she shifted on her hooves and bit her lip. “You, uh…want me to explain the god?”  

[Geyser Eelborn]

“And the signs, yeah,” she said. “You’ve never told me what any of those are. Though I’m guessing the moon is involved, with the whole…moonlight vigil thing on the new moon. And the moon must be pretty important, since you said that was the most important ritual.”

Jon shuddered, and Ullita took an involuntary step forward. For a brief instant, he looked anxious, maybe even a tiny bit terrified. She wanted to comfort him. He’s looked nervous before, but never like this. She found she hated looking at him like this. She hated the way he looked right now. She was so used to seeing him strong, confident, as if nothing in the Gloomwood could hurt him. But now? Now he looked like a nervous child, one who was afraid of the dark. Well, we can’t both be afraid of the dark! One of us has to be brave!

“She’s important, yes. She’s the daughter of the night. But she isn’t a goddess herself. That’s Tailsilver. The night, I mean. In spring she’s Bloomsoft Tailsilver, in summer Sunbright Tailsilver, in fall Leafchill Windsilver, and in winter…” Jon hesitated again. “In winter, she’s Windgrim Tailsilver.”

Ullita didn’t point out that naming the goddess of the night after the sun for a quarter of the year seemed silly. Jon did not look like he was in the mood for silly right now. “Okay,” she said. “So right now she’s…Leafchill Tailsilver. And she’ll be Windgrim Tailsilver in a couple of moons, right?”

Jon nodded. “Soon,” he said. “Very soon.”

Without thinking, Ullita continued, “So why isn’t the sun a god?” She bit her lip. “Never mind. Pretend I never asked. It’s not the point.”  

[Geyser Eelborn]

“No, no!” Jon said. “No, it’s a good question to ask! The sun is Manefire. He’s Bloomsoft, Sunbright, Leafchill, and Windgrim Manefire.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s a little confusing, I know.”

“Only a little. …Wait,” she said. “I thought you said there was only one god, the moon. So why is there a sun god too?”

Addie shifted on Jon’s antlers. “Because they’re the same thing,” she said.

Ullita’s ear flicked. “The sun and the moon are the same thing?”

“Not the the sun and moon themselves,” Addie said. To Jon’s surprise, he couldn’t hear any rancor in her voice. Was she finally getting used to Ullita? Normally the two ladies didn’t get along! “But it’s like, the daytime himself is Manefire, and the sun is his eye, and the nighttime herself is Tailsilver, and the moon is her child. When the sun sets, Leafchill Manefire will turn into Leafchill Tailsilver, and when the sun rises, she’ll turn back into Leafchill Manefire. There’s only one world, and only one god. But who and what the world is, and who and what the god is, changes all the time.”

The mare stared at them both, blinking slowly. Then, at last, she nodded. “Okay. That makes a lot of sense. So, the day and night are a god whose name and…personality change depending on the time. As in, the seasons and what time of the day-night cycle it is. The sun itself isn’t a god, but it’s the eye of a god, and the moon isn’t a god either, but it’s the daughter of the goddess.”

Jon let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. It felt like his faith had passed some kind of test. “Yes, exactly,” he said. “One god. Eight aspects. One daughter and one eye. The moonlight vigil is for keeping Tailsilver company while her daughter is away.”  

[Geyser Eelborn]

Ullita’s eyes went wide. “Ohhhh!” She smiled, feeling a warm glow light her up from the inside. “I like that. That’s…very sweet of us.” She hesitated. “So, the moon is Tailsilver’s daughter—Bloom…soft? Sunbright? Leafchill, and…what was the winter one?”

“Windgrim.” Again that suppressed shudder.

“Right, Windgrim as well. But the moon is not Manefire’s daughter, correct?”

“Right,” Addie said. “Manefire doesn’t even know who Night’s True Heart is.”

“Okay, okay, that makes sense.” Ullita turned to Jon. “So the Gloomwooders were your family, and they were led by the druids, who performed the rituals, healed people and…‘read the signs’?”

“To figure out what was going to happen or what the god wants, or what they’re doing,” Jon said. “The movement of insects, the changing of the wind, the shape of clouds, strange scents, shooting stars, dreams…That kind of thing.”

Ullita hesitated. “You had a dream last night,” she said. “Looked like a nightmare. Was that a sign? Or would it have been, if a druid had had it?”

She wished she hadn’t asked it as soon as she saw the look on his face. It was…haunted. Like she’d just said something he hadn’t thought about before and wished he’d never thought about. “Anyone can have a prophetic dream,” he said slowly. “But it mostly only happens to druids, yeah…”

Jon took a deep breath. “The druids,” he said. “That’s where it all began. And that’s where it all went wrong.  

[Geyser Eelborn]

There were always three. The Past, the Present, and the Future, some said. Others said it was for childhood, prime, and old age. Others just said that three was a lucky number, or that it was three because there had always been three. One had to be a Soquili, because they made up half the herd. And another could not be a Soquili, because the other half of the herd weren’t ponies of any kind. The third one, though, could be anyone in the herd, regardless of what their species was.

The third druid had been old when she’d died. They’d recited the burial rites over her body and laid her in the ground. It had been Samhain when she was laid to rest under her ancestors, the watching stars. She joined them that night.

“So the question was…who was going to be the new druid? Cold Casper North thought it should be Great Dexter Dark,” Jon said. “He knew all the old stories and he could recite them by heart. He was big, strong—the biggest of all of us.”

“And Vast Oak Ivar thought it should be Twist Thorn Winnie. She knew where all of the pumpkin mushrooms were, and she could dance the best. She was the most agile of us all,” Addie said softly.

“Who were they?” Ullita asked, and her voice was as tender as if they’d been family whose name she’d forgotten.

“My father,” Jon said.

“My mother,” Addie said.

“Oh.” Ullita bit her lip. “Which one of them won?”

“Neither of them,” Jon said bitterly. “That’s the stupid thing. Neither Casper nor Ivar would back down, and neither of them would approve the other’s candidate. They spent so long arguing with each other than they grew to loathe each other. They abandoned the rituals. They stopped performing them.”  

[Geyser Eelborn]

“...Oh—” Ullita finished with an unladylike word her sister taught her that her mother would never have approved of. “So, um, what happens when the god isn’t worshiped properly?”

“Bad things,” Addie said. “Really, really bad things. My mother realized things were bad and got out while the going was good. Convinced my dad to join her. Good thing too, or I would’ve never been born.”

“My father wasn’t so wise,” Jon spat. “I was a yearling. My father was honored to be a candidate to become a druid. He would have been a little disappointed if he hadn’t become one, but there was always next time. He was in the prime of his life. So was Winnie. There was always next time. Druids get old and die all the time, or they step down to let someone else lead. But if old Casper thought he’d make a good druid, then my father was happy to take Black Zell Onyx’s place.”

“So what happened to them?” Ullita said. “Your parents, and the Gloomwooders? What did the Windgrim gods…god…do? Am I referring to them correctly?” she added. “The gods, I mean, god, I mean…?”

“Windgrim Tailsilver,” Jon hissed. “She’s what happened to them.”  

[Geyser Eelborn]

They left her songs silent, and her lonely new moon reign abandoned. They did not spread the news to the stars or say the words that released the souls from the bounds of the earth. The dead gathered between the trees and among the snowdrifts, and for that, there could only be one punishment.

“Bloomsoft floods and Leafchill blight; Sunbright drought and Windgrim bite.”

“Frostbite,” Addie added. “Piss off Windgrim Manefire or Windgrim Tailsilver and you could find yourself turning blue.”

Jon nodded. “Manefire flame and Tailsilver fight.”

“Fight as in Manefire and Tailsilver fight…? Or…” Ullita’s eyes grew wide as comprehension dawned. “Ohhhhh…no, no they don’t fight, do they…”

“No,” Jon said. “We fight. Fail to honor Tailsilver in any season and she might drive you to violent madness. That’s what happened to Casper and Ivar. She struck them down with a desire for violence. They hated each other so much that all they could see was each other. They didn’t see us. They didn’t see any of us. All they cared about was hurting each other. First they destroyed the stores of herbs and medicines. Then they destroyed the stores of food.”

Jon took a deep breath, though he found he didn’t need to. The words that had for so long fought him, refused to leave, refused to be spoken out loud, were spilling out of him in a rush to be heard. “Then Ivar killed my father. And then he tried to kill me.”

Silence fell between the three of them. Ullita’s eyes were bigger than he’d ever seen them before. When she finally spoke, her voice was careful and even. “What did you do, Jon?”

He shrugged. “Ran. You didn’t want to pick a fight with Ivar. My mother and I ran. Her mother had been a Skysinger before she joined the Gloomwood, and my mother and I still had a place if we needed one. We took it, and Ivar didn’t dare follow. We weren’t alone, either. A few others joined us, mostly my father’s relatives. They survived. Everyone who didn’t…well, they didn’t.”

“Some of us fled to the Tanglethorn,” Addie said. “That’s that big patch o’ thorns south of Moonhill. Big’uns like Casper and Ivar couldn’t follow us there, so were safe.” Addie slithered out from Jon’s antlers to sit on his head. “But none of the Soquili could join us. Just ferrets and foxes and a couple others who were small enough to fit in the gaps. Anyone big as or bigger than an Usdia were screwed.”

Ullita winced. “So Casper and Ivar were both Soquili? I thought you said one of them couldn’t be a pony?”

“Casper was a Cerynei,” Jon said. “Ivar was a bison.”

The mare shuddered. “What happened to them?”

Jon sighed. “We waited all winter. We waited for the snows to thaw in spring, and hoped that the Bloomsoft god wouldn’t be angry at us. Maybe the conflict was over and the druids had started the rituals again. It was a long winter. Spring came late. Snows lasted well into spring. When they finally cleared, a few of us went into the woods to find out what happened.”

He looked Ullita in the eye, and in a low voice he said, “There was not a single one of us left alive.”  

[Geyser Eelborn]

For a long time, none of them spoke. They let the impact of Jon’s words sink in. Jon looked stern, and Addie subdued. Ullita had never seen the ferret so still before, even while asleep. Then finally she said, “Casper and Ivar…?”

“Killed each other,” Jon said, his voice flat. “Ivar was impaled on Casper’s antlers and Casper’s neck was snapped. The crows said Ivar was mortally wounded but still able to land the final blow.”

“So the crows survived at least?”

Jon shook his head. “Not everyone living in the Gloomwood was a member of our herd. No one who would ever eat a Soquili was allowed to join. We had one or two birds in the herd, but no crows, and no bears, wolves, or mountain lions either. The crows refused to give up on the possibility of eating a dead Soquili, so they weren’t allowed to join us. Soquili were the first in the herd, you see, the founders. So I guess we got to make a lot of the rules. You could eat squirrels even though squirrels were allowed to join, but not horseflesh.”

“I mean…I’m relieved,” Ullita said. She heard the tinge of humor in her voice, but found she couldn’t purge it from her words. She couldn’t help it. After such a grim story, she had to say something to lighten the mood. “But then again, I’m a Soquili, so I don’t think that says much.” She took a deep breath and said, her voice more somber this time, “No one survived?”

“Those of us who ran early did,” Addie said. “Well, I say ‘we.’ I wasn’t born until after all of this. Early summer baby, me.” Her voice also sounded light, and for once, Ullita thought that maybe she and the ferret were thinking the same thing. Stars, but I hope so. I’m so sick and tired of Addie and me not getting along with each other. She wanted to be friends with the ferret as much as she was friends with Jon. “But yeah, everyone who stayed behind that winter died. Starvation, animal attacks, that kind of thing.”

Something that had been bothering Ullita since the conversation began finally came to the front of her mind. “You lied to me, Long Jon Dark,” she said. “And you too, a little, Addie. But mostly you, Jon.”

Jon’s eyes went wide, just as wide as Ullita’s had been a few seconds ago. “Huh?”

“Yeah.” The more Ullita thought about it, the more annoyed she became. “Ages ago. You told me, back in spring, that your people all died from accidents and attacks by animals. You never said they’d been murdered. What the hell?!”  

[Geyser Eelborn]

He winced. “I didn’t want to scare you,” Jon said. “I thought if I told you the truth, that you wouldn’t want to stay here. You’re my friend. I like having you around. If you left, I’d miss you.” Jon sighed. “I have a lot of friends, but except for Addie, none of them are around. Some of them travel the world all the time, and others live in different forests, but you wanted to stay here, with me. You said you wanted to live here. And I thought that if you knew about the bad stuff that happened here you’d be too creeped out to stay. I wasn’t lying to you when I said that this place was haunted and cursed. Well…” He hesitated. “Maybe I was stretching the truth, a little. Some of us did die from accidents and animal attacks, and even diseases and the cold that winter. Some of us did. It’s just that a lot of us were killed in violent attacks, too. And since there was no one giving them their funeral rites, they didn’t ascend to the heavens to become stars with the rest of our ancestors. They had to stay behind. Here, on the earth. As ghosts.”

“And the curse? You said that bad things happened because of a curse. No mention of evil gods.” Ullita glared at him.

Jon opened his mouth, then closed it again. “You’re right,” he said. “I did say that. And you’re right. What Windgrim Tailsilver did to us was…unforgiveable. We all got hurt and our whole herd torn apart because two, two idealogues couldn’t agree on who their new junior colleague should be.” Jon ground his teeth. “I believed in her. She was our god. And she betrayed us. She thought she was just cursing the druids but she cursed us too. And here I am, still here, after all these years, doing the same damn rituals, or at least the ones I can remember, to appease a god I’ve grown to hate, who tore my life apart for stupid reasons…” Jon closed his eyes and shook his head. “But I can’t stop doing the rituals. If I stop, I’ll be cursed too. That’s the curse that plagues the Gloomwood. Our god. That’s the curse.” Jon’s eyes shot open and he hit Ullita with a glare. He felt a fire burning in his chest, and in his brain. “And don’t you dare tell me to leave Gloomwood. It’s my home. I’ve lived here most of my life, and I love it here. I know it can be gloomy, and I know there are bad memories here. But you’ve seen it, and it’s my home, and it’s where my ancestors lived…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to leave here. But I don’t want to worship a god who doesn’t deserve to be worshipped. But I have to, or I’ll be punished…”  

[Geyser Eelborn]

“I wasn’t going to tell you to leave Gloomwood, Jon,” Ullita said calmly and evenly. “But I think we can come up with solutions.” She watched Jon slowly relax and felt herself relax as well. He looked exhausted now, as if telling his family’s story was an exorcism. Maybe it was. At the very least he didn’t look like he was about to get upset. I don’t think he would have hurt me. It was a startling realization to make. He really hadn’t looked like he’d been about to be violent. But he had looked like he’d wanted to run off. “I’ll be honest with you, Jon. I do find living in a haunted forest pretty creepy. But. I…also like living with you. And Gloomwood can be pretty. All those wildflowers in spring. And the meadows in summer.” She smiled. “Made me wonder why it was called Gloomwood.” She stepped forward and turned around to lean against Jon. “I really do like it here,” she said. “And you’re a good friend, even if you did kind of lie to me. I know it wasn’t a big lie,” she added. “But it…” She sighed. “It was still kind of a lie? I don’t like liars,” she said. “My sister used to lie all the time, and I hated it so much. It made it hard sometimes to know what was the truth and what wasn’t. I don’t like it when people lie to me.”

“I didn’t want to scare you,” Jon mumbled.

“I know you didn’t. But I still don’t like that you tried to mislead me.” She bumped his head playfully. “Next time don’t lie to me. Please. Or keep secrets from me. I’ve had my trust betrayed a lot, and I don’t like having it betrayed by friends. As for the ghosts and the god…maybe we can fix things. There has to be some way. I don’t want you feeling like your home is cursed. Shifters are curses,” she nodded at Addie “and they have cures. So there has to be a cure for the curse on this land, too. Maybe we’ll get to see the Gloomwood happy again.”

“I hope so,” Jon said. He sighed. “Thanks for sticking with me, Ullita. I know I shouldn’t have kept this all a secret. I just…well, no excuses. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Ullita said.

He frowned. “You shouldn’t—”

Addie swatted him gently on the head. “Stop while you’re ahead, Jon. She forgives you. That’s enough. Now, what say we really stick it to the Windgrim by making us a shelter or something to sleep in this winter, hm?”

Ullita smiled. “Sounds like a good plan,” she said. “Maybe while we work Jon can tell me about that prophetic dream last night.”

Jon groaned theatrically. Ullita laughed.