Fear; noun
: an unpleasant emotion caused by being aware of danger : a feeling of being afraid
: a feeling of respect and wonder for something very powerful
"It is the strange fate of man, that even in the greatest of evils the fear of the worst continues to haunt him."
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"Tales heard through the children's ears,
Are meant to ease the unenviable fears.
Of the world around where shadows creep,
And the terrors that stalk the mind so deep."
"The heart shall believe that all will be well,
That light shall defeat the demons that fell.
For the truth is not what one wants to know,
And why the facts are hidden so far down below."
"Beneath the flowery lies of the tales now told,
Lies the truth of the origins of horrors most old."</color>
"And that was the tale of the Tiger and the Fox."
Nadya whispered softly to the thrice cursed babe, christened as Nicolai II. As the child was blind, deaf and mute, the matriarch of the Clan Dalca knew well that the child could not hear nor appreciate the tale told to him as he lay ill in bed. Though less than two years of age, the babe was yet well enough aware that she was near. Say what one might, but being so 'cursed' by life did not hinder such a young one's mind.
She watched the babe carefully, as his chest slowly rose and fell, then rose again with much effort. Her eyes glazed over with tears fought hard against. All of her best efforts had been for naught once the lung sickness had developed inside of him. What had caused his thrice-affliction, had also weakened his immune system. Perhaps for life. All she knew was that all the teas, remedies and potions that she and her people had known of over so many generations had done nothing to ease the sickness. A fever rose within him ever since Andrei had left to seek help, but that was before the winter storm had set in, and now Nadya herself wondered if he would make it back in time -- if at all.
Where in the name that is holy did this storm come from?
That was the very thought constantly running through Andrei's subconscious as he forced his way through the snow that was already ankle-deep and growing. It might not seem that bad at first thought, but the ice and wet snow that fell from the heavens was coating the hard ground beneath his feet, making his jaunt precarious at best, and potentially crippling at worst.
So bad was the road growing that Andrei had been forced to leave his horse behind, deep within the safe and warm confines of a cave outcropping down the slope of the mountainside his family had called ho,e for generations. He would come back for him when he returned, and could only pray that the animal had enough sense to understand it was safest at this point where it was. Had he taken the horse this far to ride, he would have risked a permanent and disabling injury to the animal should it slip and fall. Which Andrei himself had already done a minimum of three times. He would have turned around to return the horse to the homestead and then continued on, but he simply could not risk wasting such time. Not when the baby was growing weaker by the moment.
He wasn't even certain he would b able to find the help needed. The winds grew even worse, and the flurry from the gods above grew to such an extent that he was finding great difficulty at even seeing, let alone walking in this. Nadya often spoke of the burning fires of Hell on the seventh day, but for Andrei, Hell seemed to be more burning from the freezing temperatures than fire literal.
Times went past over the course of his trek down the slope of the mountain that perhaps he should turn back, but it was a thought that passed rather quickly once he envisioned the sick babe in his mind's eye. For all of Nadya's skill and power in her mystic arts, she was unable to pull the sickness from the child's lungs. She could but ease his illness to even the barest of degrees, but when the fever took hold, there was little choice but to find assistance in the village below the mountainside. Perhaps a skilled healer might know of something that Nadya did not. All he knew was that he had to press on, and so he would do even if the cold would overtake him in doing so.
After all that life had thrown at Nicolai II, Andrei would not give the Fates the satisfaction of his life being yet something else the babe would be forced to yield. Not if he had anything to ay about it.
And unfortunately, it seemed the Fates were again playing at their games, when under the descending cover of darkness, Andrei's foot stepped on a smooth stone buried in the snow, and it slipped from beneath his weight. This caused the young Rom to tumble down into the snow, and unable to stop his fall, he fell over the side of the mountain.
Here, the Fates decreed a modem of sympathy, as it was not a straight drop, but a slant down into a more dense grove of the forest's snow laden trees. It seemed to take forever for Andrei to end his unwanted descent, until he came down against a lone tree that stretched so high that it's very top seemed to end in the bleakness of the darkening skies above. With a grunt of pain, the air was blown from Andrei's lungs at the impact against the trunk, and slowly he rose, grimacing in pain. He dusted the snow from his heavy clothes that staved off some of the weather's chill, and despite the setback, he could not help but envision the lost Nicolai laughing merrily at the same time helping him rise to his feet.
Andrei then cursed as he looked up and saw how far he would have to hike to get back onto the train in the hills above. He took that important first step when a scent caught his attention, and he turned his head out of idle curiosity. Smoke? Yes, indeed. He smelled smoke, and now that he looked toward the forest, he saw a thin trail of smoke rising from deep within the maze of trees.
Perhaps he was nearer to the village than he realized? No. He had fallen a ways down the side of the mountain but not quite that far. It was too small a trail of smoke for an actual forest fire, and he doubted one would even be able to begin in weather this cold and wet. That left only one other viable explanation: a home, and a fire rising from the normal confines of a chimney.
Upon realization, this brought about a morbid curiosity to his mindset. He had lived in these mountains since birth, and never before had he known a home to be anywhere inside this wooded area. It was a risk, but he had to see and to find out. Perhaps, just perhaps, whoever was there might be able to assist...</color>
"That man is prudent who neither hopes nor fears anything from the uncertain events of the future."
Anatole France</color>
"I'd like to tell you a story."
"Ironic, is it not? That one such as I would like to tell a tale to those such as yourselves. A being that has been around since the first shadows were cast across the Heavenly Gardens, instilling fear in the heart of the First Coupling. The entity that sewered the scorn in the hearts of the Fallen, instigating wars in both the heavens as well as the land you now walk. So many tales told that bear my name, and yet, so very few hold an ounce of truth to the original tales."
"I do this for a reason. So that perhaps just one of you might grow to become competent enough to understand."
"It is a tale that perhaps you have heard a time or two. It's ludicrous message has even met my own ears. A tale that I hope the current SCW Roulette Champion takes heed in listening to, as it befits his own namesake."
"A lamb, a frail, innocent animal in the scope of all of Creation, lived in a vast forest amidst all of the animals of the One God's fantastical creations. Was this a time in Eden under the Rule of the First? Perhaps. The Garden was one of glory, and the beauty was euphoric to this tiny little animal of snow white fleece and heart warming innocence. She could not help but bask in the sun that shone overhead and dance and play in the vast pastures that spread out around her and all of the other animals."
"Until the fated day when a tiger, the first of its kind, found the woods and wished to make for itself a new home. The tiger met with the other animals and told them that he would like to live alongside of them, and they happily agreed. All except for that one little lamb, who was not at all assured of the tiger or his openness. He was large and quite ferocious in appearance, with his sharp teeth and sharp claws. And the little lamb did not care for how the tiger watched her. Not at all."
"So the little lamb expressed her concerns to all of her woodland friends and they assured her that all would be well. They even offered to speak to the tiger and tell him that the one condition on his living in the forest is that he must also allow all the other animals to live in the forest as well. The lamb, although not comforted, accepted their plea. The animals did speak to the tiger, and he happily agreed."
"So the lamb made the attempt to continue life in the forest as she always had, but then the day came when she happened upon the tiger, and he was anything but comforting toward her. She felt far for how he stared at her and the growls that escaped from his throat. So much so that she left the area and went back to her friends, and told them of her frightening experience. Their answer to her was that these actions were simply in a tiger's nature and how one was expected to behave."
"Heeding this reasoning, the lamb went back to the forest and played and sang, enjoying herself as she saw fit, but always in the back of her mind was the sight of the tiger and its fearsome growling at her. The truth was that the tiger did not, in fact, stalk the small lamb. It went about its own life, much as she did her own. Yet when the lamb did happen upon the fearsome animal, fear struck at her heart. Even if the tiger was asleep or walking in the opposite direction, the lamb still felt as if the tiger's presence was somehow intrusive upon her own. In time, the lamb was actually looking for the tiger, despite herself."
"Her worries continued, and her friends within the animal kingdom even started to wonder what the lamb was doing to antagonize the tiger so. After all, the tiger was causing none of them any undo harm or stress, so why would he be targeting this one animal out of the many?"
"Of course, this they never said to the lamb, but the day came when she finally had enough. The fear and stress were growing too formidable for her to overcome and she told the animals that she was going to leave the forest and find a new home. The animals quickly objected to this decision, lamenting how much they would miss her presence. They continued to explain to her that the tiger's rather brusque nature was simply that; his nature. But still, they offered to go talk to him. They believed that they could speak to him on her behalf about not acting so when she was around. And off they went."
"After they had gone to do this one thing for her, the lamb could not help but wonder: if his actions were[.I], in fact, in the nature of the beast, then how could they expect to get the tiger to change his own nature?"
"The animals ventured to the part of the forest where the tiger called home, and called out to him so that they could talk. However, the tiger did not answer. They called again, many times in fact, but the tiger was not answering their summons. Concerned, the animals separated into groups and looked for the newest member of the forest community, until they found him. Or rather, his remains."
"Shredded tufts of fur were hanging from the thorny brambles of the territory claimed, and a trail of crimson soaked dirt led to the forest's winding stream where lay the carcass of the tiger, his ribs exposed and eyes open wide with the terror of his final moments."
The fear coursed through their tender hearts at the horror that hey were looking at! What could have done such a monstrous thing to such a mighty beast, and more importantly, would it end there? Was this mysterious predator still in their community, lurking from somewhere deep within? They all gathered together, close knit in safety and made their way back to the forest glen."
"And there they found the lamb, no longer looking the part of the innocent. The gleam in her eyes as she watched them warily approach. They thought long about the ramifications. They believed it was not possible, but all evidence pointed to the contrary."
"No. This is not, in fact, the more popular rendition of the tale of the Lamb and the Tiger. In fact, this was not the actual ending at all. For you see, the tiger did indeed bring the first sense of dread into the forest, and it awakened something dark and foreboding within its boundaries."
"Gleam from the words what you will. A lesson, perhaps? The tiger, although of a fierce nature and presence about his surroundings, is not without his weakness. Nor is he immune from the raw sensation of fear, a trait that strikes at the very heart and soul of a person. The fear he must have felt when one he thought unworthy, one that he deemed to overlook as insignificant against his reputation, would have been delicious to experience."
"It's a sensation that the 'Big Tiger' of Sin City Wrestling will come to appreciate. Since he had scored that important victory in November of last year against one, Max Burke, his reign of dominance over the Roulette division has made him grow rather confident in his own abilities. It has made him believe that his championship reign would be one everlasting. Unyielding in the face of danger and adversity."
"And yet, that was all before fear itself rose to the challenge, and the confidence once welled so deeply inside the champion's breast, started to run dry. The 'Big Tiger' grew to understand that perhaps this time, the risks to his reign were not minimal. There is a tired old cliche' of the hunter becoming the hunted when the chips are down, but the words could not be any less true in this particular case."
"No. For you see, Jeremiah Hardin, the Bogey Man has risen from the shadows, prepared to be that very next challenge to your livelihood. I have watched from the corners of the earth while you grew complacent with the ease of your lackluster challenges, and I bring to you the opportunity to realize and understand your limits. I give you the chance so few mortals ever get to experience; to see the end come, right before the light within diminishes to an unseasonable end."
"It is a new year in the mortal coil, and for you Jeremiah Hardin, 2014 will not begin pleasantly. For you, the end has only just begun."</color>
"To him who is in fear everything rustles."
Sophocles</color>
What had Andrei ventured into?
He stood at the small clearing where the trees should have stood in the woodland of the mountains, but instead found a simple cabin in anything but simple surroundings. While there were no trees immediately around the cabin, there was a gruesome display of a fence built around the clearing, crafted of what had to be human bones. And atop of every fifth bone 'post' was a human skull, with fires built within casting an ominous glow from inside the sockets. A chill that had absolutely nothing to do with the weather raced down his spine, settling into a ball of ice at the base of his spine.
Andrei was by no means a coward, but few in the race of mortal men would be able to gaze upon such a sight and not feel the humbling sensations of fear grow within their bellies.
And the fact that someone was actually inside of this hut, told him that there was a dark presence that he had not felt since the night he stood in that grove and watched the Pale One in the flesh.
The stories were known, of her and what she was capable of. How could it be that Andrei started a journey to the village to find medicines for Nicolai II, and yet now stood at the very threshold of the one known as the Blackwoods Witch?
He should turn around and beat a hasty retreat. Get as far away from this house as he could, as fast as he might. He should, yet he did not. Nadya was a skillful witch of gypsy origin, but this was something, or someone else rather, of an altogether different nature. Where one arcane skill failed, another might succeed?
Cringing involuntarily, Andrei grasped the gate made of multiple human rib cages, he pushed the 'gate' open and stepped onto the smooth stones that led to... only then did Andrei realize that the house was actually turned away from him. This was too unreal, he believed silently. He took another step, intending to walk off the given path to search around the homestead for the front door, when a loud creaking of wood and stone gave him pause. He glanced around him, ever alert for dangers of both the natural as well as supernatural worlds around him. Yet the sound did not come from the forest that seemed to now be everywhere.
It was coming from the hut itself.
Once he looked back to the hut, he froze on sight, eyes wide with shock at what he found himself witnessing. The hut rising, not on its own but what appeared to be two chicken legs and it slowly started to rotate. Oh how badly he wanted to turn and run right then and there, as this had him believing himself mad! He watched in silent awe as the hut did a complete turn around to where the door now faced him, and it slowly settled back down upon the ground, the 'legs' all but vanishing from sight. Then, the hut's door creaked open only so slightly as if acting as an invitation.
Andrei closed his eyes and swallowed hard, fighting back the overwhelming sensation of fear. Not since the Banishing had he felt such terror in his heart, but for the sake of a child, both then and now, he forged ahead. Andrei walked that stone path to the front of the hut, each step heavier than the last, until he found himself standing at the door.
"Well? Are you planning to come in, or not?"
The voice from inside startled him, but it spoke with enough authority that he immediately set foot inside, greeted by the warmth of a blazing hearth.
"Shut the door." The voice commanded. "Sheltered as we are, it is still quite cold outside."
Andrei jumped and quickly did as instructed. Only just before the door closed did he finally realize what was happening outside: he could still see the snow falling in the trees outside, but not within the space where this hut resided.
With the door shut behind him, only then did Andrei turn around and take in his surroundings. The inside of the hut seemed quite a bit larger than what the outside appearance would indicate. A lot larger, if truth be told. There was only a modest amount of furnishings. A few tables scattered about, a pantry for provisions, and the fireplace where Andrei wanted so badly to approach and stave off the bite of the cold that had numbed his fingers -- as well as the rest of his body.
"Warm yourself." The voice spoke, as if reading his thoughts. "The fire is quite inviting."
Andrei looked around, but saw nothing to indicate where the source of the voice originated from. Yet he knew better than to tempt fate, and he did as instructed and slowly approached the fire. As he reached the hearth of the slow blaze, he suddenly remembered the tales and took a hasty step back, prompting a low chuckle.
"Young man, you are safe enough for the moment." The voice said. "You are simply not suited to my taste. Now, if you would... warm yourself."
Andrei swallowed and felt the beads of sweat break out against his forehead. It was true that the tales said this witch had a preference for the taste of the tender flesh of infants, not adults. But who knew where truth could be separated from fiction? Still, he knew it was best not to antagonize such as she, and he took that step forward again and held his hands out toward the flickering embers of the burning fire. He could not help but appreciate the feeling being returned to his body when he noticed from the corner of his eye the rocking chair, and the shape seated on it.
"Good Christ!" Andrei yelped and almost fell back into a table covered with an allotment of small clay jars and glass vials filled with -- he did not want to know what.
He would have sworn that corner had been empty only seconds ago! Now he watched with fearful eyes as the old woman sat in the rocking chair, swaying it back and forth; in the shadows one moment, and out of them the next. Her eyes were cast downward toward her lap, where a craft of wool was being knitted by aged hands into something else.
The silence was stifling. Andrei swallowed heavily and found his voice.
"I'm..." he started to say, but the Blackwoods Witch interrupted him.
"I know who you are, child." She whispered in a coarse voice, endless in age. She then glanced up and met his eye. "And why you are here."
"I-I..." Andrei stammered despite himself. "I did not intend to find myself at your door."
"And yet had you not meant to be here, you never would have found my home to begin with." She resumed her knitting, and her rocking.
"I simply slipped up on the mountain and fell." Andrei reasoned. "Quite by accident."
"Indeed." She said simply. "Yet here you are, within my home, seeking help."
Andrei tried to find his voice, but this time words failed him. He held a hand out to plead his case, but found nothing he could say would suffice.
"How long has the child been ill?"
Her querie stunned him, and his head rocked back as though he had been slapped. He felt the part of the lingering fool, standing here, powerless before one such as she. He had faced down and helped to defeat the Pale One, because the unknown gave him the incentive to fight on, yet this threat he knew. He knew the tales told for generations about this woman who sat so idly before him, knitting and seemingly without a care in the world.
For perhaps she had none, because what could possibly bring a threat to one such as she?
Finally, he cleared his throat and answered her, "Two weeks, if you please. We had hoped the illness would go away by itself, but it's only gotten worse. He runs a fever and..."
She again interrupted and said, "And you would brave such weather, not to mention, my home, for this little one?"
Andrei glanced aside for but a fraction of a moment before he again looked her full on and nodded. "I would." He said. "He is my own."
"Your son?"
"Yes."
"Yet not of your blood." She stated matter-of-factly.
"No." Andrei answered truthfully. "But he need not be my blood to be mine."
She again looked up, and halted her craft. The rocking of her chair also stopped as her cool, gray eyes bore into Andrei's own as if searching. probing for whatever that might serve as a catalyst to a witch's whims. Andrei felt himself unable to look away. Only after what seemed an eternity did she finally speak.
"Well said." Were her words, and Andrei suddenly found her standing at his side, and pressing something soft and warm in his hands.
"Take this, and do be quick about it." She said. Andrei looked down at his hands and found he was holding hat appeared to be a warm sweater, knitted with careful skill and a fair amount of care. It was, in fact, the very thing she had been knitting while she sat in the rocking chair.
He held the child-size shirt woolen shirt in his hands and asked almost pleadingly, "This ... this wiill...?"
"Only if you stop wasting time." She answered crossly. "I do not offer such assistance idly. No go."
He needed no further insistence. With the witch's garment clasped tightly in his grip, Andrei hurriedly left the hut of the Blackwoods Witch, and returned to the winter storm en route to home, and the sick child that waited.</color>
Prosperity is not without many fears and distastes; adversity not without many comforts and hopes.
Francis Bacon</color>
"The clock ticks, Jeremiah. Time is a fleeting thing, and to this you will come to understand all too well when your reign ends in fire and blood."
"You can act as brave as you prefer, but in the end, it is but an act. For no man can say he is without fear and be naught but a liar. You will come to fear me as no other before you. Your very livelihood is mine to crush within my grasp, and crush it I will. It has been too long since I've tasted the sweet tang of the human soul instilled with trembling uncertainty on what is to come, and what will soon be. Your fear, Jeremiah Hardin, will be but the appetizer. Your championship reign, the main course."
"And your life? Oh I have always believed in a savory dessert to every meal."</color>
