Xander's gaze softens, his hand unconsciously tracing the material near his shoulder, where faded claw marks remain as a hidden reminder of a past he wishes to bury. 'I know, my love,' he murmurs, his voice tinged with sorrow. 'This place brings back many unpleasant memories. It wasn't an easy task, binding the beast here, but the mystic council agreed to it after Gretchen insisted, after the attacks on her coven,' Xander tells us.
Xander takes a deep breath. His gaze is lost in the depths of haunting recollections. 'He fought well and hard to escape his fate of being trapped here forever, but he was outnumbered and was already losing his humanity after his pack abandoned him, making him a rogue. He was becoming more feral and aggressive each day.'
The memories play like flickering images in his mind, the tale of a cursed existence. 'As you know, after he had attacked Gretchen's coven, she immediately placed a curse upon him. She made sure his mate would not be born in this world. Gretchen said he begged and pleaded with her to remove the curse and would take any other punishment willingly, he even begged to be lashed a thousand times instead, but she refused.'
Xander's eyes hold a haunted gaze, a glimpse into the depths of a tortured soul. 'Once he was bound, he begged us to kill him and put him out of his misery, but Gretchen wanted him to suffer further. As soon as he spoke his last words, begging for death, she cursed him into shifting into his wolf permanently. In the spell she cast, I remember the chant stating that his form could only be broken by his soul mate's touch. We watched as he was forced against his will to shift into his wolf, and that was the last time I ever saw him,' he says.
As silence descends upon us, from the weight of Xander’s past lingering in the air. My heart also resonates with heavy sadness. I don’t know why the story makes me feel an ache. It has nothing to do with me, after all.
We find ourselves standing beside each other in a line beside our stags on the precipice of the witching woods.
Each of us carries our own fears and apprehensions, but in this moment, we find solace in the unspoken unity that binds us together. With a collective inhalation, we take our first steps into the witching woods.
The trees stand tall with gnarled branches that intertwine like ancient fingers, reaching out as if to capture the unwary traveller who dares to venture within.
Imogen's grip on her broom tightens, her knuckles turning white as she braces herself. As for me, a shiver dances down my spine, a primal instinct warning me of the unseen forces that lie within these woods.
The ground seems to grow darker and more foreboding as we delve further in, as if the very essence of the place is casting a shadow upon our path.
We proceed cautiously. Our footsteps muffle in the thick carpet of fallen dead leaves. The air feels alive, as if unseen eyes watch our every move.
‘Remember why we’re here,’ Xander says, ‘I suggest you start trying to find a scent to follow.’
I nod and inhale the many scents in my surroundings. I can recognise some as certain plants, flowers, and even creatures, such as the blooming hogs and builderbulbs. I try to focus on the new scents I haven’t smelt before and follow the first one that smells like a fruity flower.
I find myself following the trail to the edge of a cliff. Atop the cliff stands a peculiar tree, its bark boasting an unusual dark green texture, deviating from the conventional shades of brown. Its leaves, a captivating dark purple, flutter softly in the breeze. Among the branches hang strange fruits with tones of purple and olive green, resembling pears but adorned with delicate pink flowers blooming from their bottoms.
Intrigued, I pluck one of these mystical fruits and bring it closer, examining its intricate details. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I take a cautious sniff, detecting the intoxicating fragrance. Turning to the others, I hold it up, 'This is what caused the scent I was following.'
Xander steps forward. Taking the fruit from my hand, he takes a bold bite and reveals its name, 'Phantom pear.' With a mischievous smile, he plucks the flower beneath the fruit and presents it to Janie, sharing his wisdom, 'Place it in hot water, and it will transform into a fruity herbal tea.'
'Thank you,' she says, grateful for his gesture. Janie thanks him and tucks the flower safely into the pocket of her cloak.
Following the next scent, we find ourselves on the edge of a vast expanse, surrounded by the mystical wonders of the witching place. As I gaze upon the sprawling landscape, I can't help but be awestruck by its grandeur. 'This place looks twice as big as Moonshade Forest!' I exclaim, to which Xander corrects me, 'Try, four times the size. Just try to avoid going towards the west,’ he adds.
‘Is that where you had to bound...?’ I ask.
Xander nods.
‘I’ll do my best, then,’ I reply and focus on my task at hand.
With each unknown scent that caresses my senses, I follow its trail, trusting it to guide us in hopes of leading us to a blossom fox. Along the way, we encounter peculiar creatures, unique fruits, vibrant plants, and whimsical trees. The woods showcase a duality of life and death, with some areas shrouded in the stillness of decaying trees and ash-laden soil while others brim with the vibrant energy of fantastical flora and lively creatures frolicking about.
Eventually, we dismount from our majestic stags and squeeze through a narrow path, meandering between tall hedges. Janie elegantly takes to the sky on her broom, accompanied by Mister Kal. Emerging from the labyrinthine thicket, we find ourselves in a small clearing atop a lofty cliff. As my eyes sweep across the seemingly endless woods, a sigh escapes my lips, sensing the weight of the approaching darkness.
Xander breaks the silence, 'It's going to be dark soon, and somehow, we've ended up in the western region of the woods.' His gaze fixates on the foreboding depths beyond, urging caution. 'Let's set up camp here for the night. Tomorrow, we'll chart a course northward, making our way east and then south until we find the fox,' he instructs.
‘Imogen, Janie and I will collect sticks for the fire,’ I say to Xander and Orelious.
‘I will stay by my bloodflames side,’ Orelious insists.
‘You’ve had her all day to yourself, constantly kissing and licking her all day whilst travelling on that mount,’ I argue.
Orelious scoffs, ‘It’s called affection, clearly something you don’t understand,’ he says.
I flinch, and hug myself, thinking of the times Brad hurt me. Imogen gives him a scouring look, indicating he went too far with his words.
‘Look, just let me please have some girl time alone with them. We won’t be far, and we won’t be long,’ I tell him.
Orelious stares at Imogen for her answer. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his lips. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out with the girls for a bit. How about you boys hunt some food for us while we organise the fire,’ she says.
‘As you wish, my beloved,’ Orelious replies.