With Eyes Unclouded
[ This thread was done in Discord, with the amazing @drustvar-dragonfly. There were sections of it that did not make it into the final post for Trials and Tribulations. However the sections compiled here were too amazing to not share - so I have edited the discord posts here for all of your enjoyment. I hope I did it justice! ]
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Before Deirdre - Lydia’s Grandmother - lay a beautiful glade. It was ancient, and untouched by man for centuries. The flowers were beautiful, the grass pristine, and truly a marvelous gem deep in the forest. Picnics would be lovely here. However the magic was unmistakable. Heavy. It shot through the ground like pins and needles. Everything felt heavier here, like a massive weighted cloak over the shoulders. Within the center was a fallen tree, nearly completely reclaimed by the earth. Moss hung off of it in sheets, wild flowers flowing in the breeze. Next to it sat the stump, alive with mushrooms, and flowers, but what was propped up against it was both elating, and heartbreaking.
It was Freddy. Really truly him. He was slumped against it in a heap, legs curled beneath him motionless. He was hunched over himself, chin against his chest, and arms useless at his sides. Even from this distance, Deirdre could see that Freddy’s body had emaciated almost beyond recognition. His face was turned slightly left to reveal a shaggy overgrown beard, and a countenance of deep slumber. Around him the earth had grown to nearly encase his entire lower half, the grass and dirt covering him like a warm blanket. Yet he did not stir, did not move, and for all intents and purposes Freddy looked dead.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
From behind the felled tree, a wicker monster stumbled. It’s ‘body’ was nothing more than a stuffed sack, like a scarecrow. A stag skull was haphazardly sewn onto it, while branches acting as limbs walked it closer to Freddy there in the glade. Blue fire roared from the eyeless sockets of the skull, and they stared at Deirdre with accusation, and vitriol. It stopped right next to Freddy, one of its arms coming out to run twig fingers through his matted hair. Freddy’s head fell to the side lifelessly, nearly sending his skeletal form down to earth as well.
With a smug sound, the wicker stepped forward menacingly. Magic hummed in the air as It’s body attempted to shift forms. The spell shimmered around it, trying to reclaim its previous state of imitation of the man slumped behind it. However, all that could form was a masquerade of Freddy’s face. His forehead didn’t slope that far, and the left side of his face sagged unnaturally, which drew the lower eyelid down, and made the face appear lopsided, and wrong. It’s body attempted to take on his shape, but it couldn’t quite remember what Freddy actually looked like. Instead, it was rotund in places he wasn’t, and skinny in others, with one beefy arm, and another emaciated. One leg twisted at the ankle, the bone seemingly broken, and twisted inward, while one hip seemed to rest higher than the other giving it an awkward gait as it shambled slowly towards Deirdre.
"So this is the miscreation that attacked my granddaughter," Deidre's voice took on a purposefully mocking tone as she stared down the malformed monstrosity lumbering towards her.
"Looks like she really did a number on ya. Just look at the state of yourself!" A dry chuckle rumbled within her throat as she shook her head, her staff positioned in front of herself as she leaned on it gingerly. "Can't walk worth a damn, shiftin's all buggered up. Doesn't even realize when enough is enough. Poor, pathetic creature."
Still leaning on her staff, Grams slid her offhand into her pocket, fingers curling around a fabric-wrapped bundle as an incantation was softly whispered beneath her breath. To the side, Eilit's gaze had narrowed, ears pinned back against her head as she pawed restlessly at the ground.
The wicker man halted its forward trek, watching, curious. More of it had begun to change, desperately trying to look familiar, and unassuming. Through great effort, it had managed to readjust it’s visage, with almost enough of it being correct to be unsettling. His green eyes were wide in terror, but there were subtle differences that were just off enough to be wrong. The color of his hair was wrong. The shape of his jaw is too sharp. It was almost right, but not enough. He looked at her with fear in a vain attempt to pull heartstrings Deirdre didn’t have.
“G-Grams,” The wicker speaks, but Freddy’s timbre was not that deep. His voice was always soft spoken, with a sing song quality that was uniquely him. This monstrosity sounded nothing like him. It seemed to realize this, and jerked its head in unnatural motions. Tremors rocked its shoulders in uneven motions, the charred bits of its hips pitching it forward at the waist awkwardly. “It-it’s m-me.” It attempted again, but it’s voice didn’t change. “F-Freddy!”
It then attempted to run at her. It’s giant was awkward, shambling, uneven, and wrong. It’s arms stretched out before it, fingers grasping the air menacingly as it rushed towards Deirdre.
"You've been a stain upon this family for long enough," She hissed, pulling the bundle from her pocket. "I think it's about time you crawl back to whatever putrid hole from whence you came."
With that, she hurled the bundle towards the wicker servitor, and slammed the bottom of her staff into the ground. The earth itself would rip open like a great maw ready to swallow anything along its zig-zagging path, while the previously unassuming bundle exploded into a rain of purple sparks which would seek to ignite most anything on impact.
The boom overhear made the wicker recoil a moment, flinch in fear, but something drove it forward. Perhaps it was the knowledge the mask was right there. Maybe it was the magic. Maybe it was just a mindless creature doing its masters bidding. Who can say.
The sparks caught its shoulders on fire. The flames burst to life, and ate away at the burlap sack it called a body. Leaves, mushrooms, flora, and other debris fell from the holes in ashy heaps, causing its left side to sag as the branch it called an arm nearly fell away completely. It roared, its misremembering of Freddy’s face twisting in agony, and fury.
It felt the earth rumble beneath it, heard it rip asunder, but that only pushed it forward faster. It jumped over a break in the earth, but didn’t make it to the other side. It slammed against the earth with a resounded thump. The impact broke the hip of its leg to splinters. It cried out in pain, and confusion, arms frantically attempting to pull it towards Deirdre. It looked up at her with agonized eyes, “Why!” It screamed, timbre still wrong. “It’s me! It’s me! It’s me!” The phrase was clipped, like a record skipping. It could think of nothing else to say.
The earth sundered further beneath it, but it's wooden fingers dug into the earth to haul it closer, and closer to Deirdre. It was right at her feet, legs dangling into the depths. Those wiggling fingers writhed up the dirt, and weakly wrapped around Deirdre's ankle. Fire burned the left side of it away, the arm dangling by a thread. Wicker feet pushed at the dirt frantically to try and push itself upwards. “F-Freddy! F-Freddy! FREDDY! FREDDY!!!” It screamed. “ME ME ME ME!!!”
It wasn't fear which took up residence upon Deirdre's features as the broken mass of wicker and bones writhed at her feet. Even her anger seemed to have dissipated in the wake of its pleading screams and desperate attempts to claw at her ankles. She looked... sad.
"Quiet," she whispered, waving her hand in a gentle motion to effectively silence the wailing cries which so horribly perverted Freddy's voice, its movements momentarily stilled, as though the woman herself radiated an overwhelming sense of calm. Kneeling down, joints once more announcing their displeasure with a series of creaks and cracks, Deirdre reached out to cradle the creature's skull, black soot coming away with her fingertips.
The wicker stilled, mismatching eyes wide as it stared up at Deirdre with abject horror. It’s bottom lip trembled, tears like sap running down it’s cheeks as it waited. The entirety of its lower half collapsed away, the contents of the burlap sack fluttering into the earth if not falling on the breeze as ash. It clung to the earth for dear life, waiting, watching. It didn’t fight when she reached forward, the cavity of its chest wide open, and sought to pull the magic that kept it animated out of it. It seemed to accept this fate, like a doe caught by the wolves.
"Your time here is finished. I will see to it that whatever souls reside within you are properly laid to rest. I will return your remains to the earth from whence you came." With so much of its form burned away, leaving the wicker frame so brittle and broken, the ease with which she was able to reach within the cavity of its chest was hardly surprising. "And your master, whoever extended your ties to this plane, will surely answer for the evils they've committed through your actions." Fingers searched blindly, looking for some kind of jar or coffer within which the offending spell and souls would be contained.
Two glass jars sat within it’s chest cavity, entwined in vines, and thistles to keep them anchored to the large branch that acted like a spine. One housed a still beating heart, bits of hair, fingernails, cloth, and other trinkets to link the souls to the magic within. The conduit reeked of dark magic, the feeling of it heavy, and oppressive.
The other, while not nearly as gruesome, was just as heartbreaking. A wad of Freddy’s hair, tied with a string sat within its contents, along with a black taper candle burnt nearly to a nub, a bit of black pepper, witchhazel, and licorice root. Tied to Freddy’s hair was a small charm Deirdre’s would recognize: a small protection fetish Lydia had made for him. It was made from a piece of obsidian, carved in the shape of a leaf, and woven to be worn as a necklace. She had spent time making it, imbibing it with love, and protection, and whoever had cast Freddy into his fruitless journey took it, corrupted it, and used it to bind him to this monstrosity. Truly, it was as foul a corruption of magic as one can do.
As Deirdre pulled the jars free, the wicker froze. It’s eyes blew wide, only to roll back into the sockets as all life left it. A breathless: ”Thank you…” whispered as it tumbled into the earth, fading into nothing as those trapped within its body were finally released. The creature that had tortured Lydia for the better part of three years was finally vanquished. The torture those that gave it life, and Freddy who gave it shape, was finally over.
Deirdre looked to where Freddy’s body sat slumped against the stump, and her heart gently sank. All around him grew a massive ring of mushrooms. They clustered closely together in a tight circle, their bodies decaying the grass all around them as they grew to a nearly supernatural height. A Faery Ring. A conduit between here, and there. It’s no wonder poor Freddy got so lost. The mushroom circle began to gently quiver as the magic left the wicker set to protect this place. Spores gently wafted into the air, a breeze rustling Freddy’s overgrown hair.
However, behind him on the stump, sat Haskell. His tail was curled around his body, mismatched eyes ablaze with a kind of otherworldly fire that could only be associated with the land of the Fae. He looked to Deirdre, and chirped softly. On the breeze, his voice whispered: ”What the winter withers away, spring blooms anew. What is, does not have to be. Rest, and bloom anew.”
It was then that Deirdre realized that Haskell, the spirited fox that caused mischief around her home, was a fae who had connected to Freddy, and crossed over to act as his familiar through these darkened times. ”You have found us,” Haskell’s voice gently whispered in the breeze. ”And not a moment too soon. He is at the end of his journey now. The Great Stag judges the merit of his soul. What life the forest gives, it can also take away. Life, and death are it’s domain.”
Haskell’s tail unfurls gently, and he hops down to tip toe black paws over the earth that sought to reclaim Freddy’s entire lower half. He made it to his lap, and gently curled up there where one would imagine his legs would be crossed. ”I do not know how to get him out...perhaps you can help me, wise one?”
"Thank you for leadin' me here, Haskell." Deirdre smiled, steadying herself against the staff at her side with a heavy exhale - she was no spring chicken, and the magics she was working with would surely take their toll on her aging body. "With the sentinel gone, we can focus on gettin' Freddy out of there."
"Once we get him back to the house, I'll unbind him from the magics that are holdin' him prisoner, but it'll be up to him to see the final trial through and cross back into this plane." She paused, an air of worry flashing within her wizened gaze. "It has to be him. I can show him the doorway, but he has to choose whether or not he wants to walk through it." A knowing glance was cast to the fae fox, wordless acknowledgement passing between them, both knowing the toll this whole ordeal had taken on Freddy's mind and the consequences that awaited him upon his return.
“He is a pure soul. I could not let him suffer alone,” Haskell says softly, head canting upwards to look at Freddy’s bent, sleeping face. “No one deserves to suffer alone. He told me that as he held me. It was the least I could do for him.” Slowly, those blazing eyes return to Deirdre, and a ethereal smile seems to settle over his vulpine visage. “I must offer you one word of warning, wise one. His trials have been long, and hard. He will continue to suffer, long after he has crossed through.”
After another centering breath, Deirdre closed her eyes, hands clamped tightly around her staff as she focused her energies into that gnarled stalk for the purpose of amplifying her magic. The place where staff met ground began to glow, green mist touched at its outer edges with warm yellow light while orbs of the same color danced within the gently swirling cloud. A path began to form, slowly at first, running along the grass which covered the earth in a thick blanket of green, passing between two trembling mushrooms and entering the circle.
The ground surrounding Freddy's body began to tremble, shifting almost like gentle waves upon a still lake until the earth began to slowly break apart, effectively releasing him from his would-be resting place, and it wouldn't take long before Haskell and Freddy both were lifted carefully into the air by way of the tree's great roots. They lifted him, his arms, and legs dangling lifeless around the roots as he was sent skyward, but drops of blood fell amid the dirt, and debris. From his neck a river of blood cascaded, the punctures wide, and deep. The sanguine liquid stained his hollow chest, and flowed down to the great sunder that tore his lower stomach. No entrails hung from the wound, but the blood was fresh, and flowing. Though the great roots of the tree encased him, and Haskell rode with him, no healing magics tried to pull the skin together. Instead, any blooms that attempted to grow seemed to recoil away. No matter how much his own soul attempted to pull itself back together, it merely couldn’t. Flora growing had always been an aspect of Freddy’s magic, he himself gave life, and comfort wherever he went. To see it fail now was heartbreaking in it’s own right.
“Beware the Horned One,” Haskell whispered, the flames slowly fading from his eyes the higher he was lifted above the Faery Ring. “Beware…” The flames of his eyes extinguished, leaving instead just the mismatched blue, and gold.
Without being verbally prompted, Deirdre's dutiful doe-eyed companion made herself all the more useful, standing completely still while that magically-woven bed which supported Freddy's body was transformed into a makeshift sled that the beast would be able to drag back through the forest with ease. As Freddy is laid in the little sled, Haskell jumps to Deirdre, hopping up on his back legs, and leaning against her knees with the front. He chirps up to her softly, wanting to be pulled up into her arms. Once he is secure, he licks at her cheek in gratitude, only to snuggle in. Her magic had taken much from her, but Haskell felt warm, and inviting.
Deidre nearly collapsed where she stood, her energies almost completely drained as she leaned heavily against her staff, panting quietly while she tried to reclaim her bearings. "Al-alright..." she stammered, huffing out a sigh as she righted herself and prepared for the return trek. "Let's go home, shall we?"
A small frown pulled at the corners of her mouth as she reached down to brush Freddy's disheveled hair away from his face, wincing inwardly at the close-up sight of his gaunt features. Another sigh. This one followed immediately by quick and labored steps which would lead them away from the grove which had claimed over three years of the poor man's life.
The trip to Deirdre's cottage was uneventful. The Elsons’ farm watched them pass like a stone sentinel, it’s presence looming as it looked upon them with accusing eyes. He had abandoned them. Left them to wither away. The house stood as a monument to his failure, and though Freddy was not awake to see it, the weight of that would pull his shoulders low. However, they made it back to Deirdre's easily, and so thin was his body that even the elderly woman, and her doe companion could easily maneuver him into a bed with unfortunate ease.
When Deirdre inspected the wounds, she found them to be quite cruel. The one’s on his shoulder were punctures, the two perfectly symmetrical, and looking as though they had been caused by a spider bite. The one against his lower stomach was malicious. Jagged flesh pushed inward, then ripped side to side by sharp tusks. They would not close, no matter what magic was put to them. All that could be done was to pack the wounds with gauze, and wrap him in linens in the hope they do not get infected.
Freddy lay there, pillowed by the plush blankets, face serene though overgrown with hair. The matted length of his wild hair was surprisingly untouched by debris, though clearly no brush had been pulled through it in years. His face, once so pristine, and clean shaven was now an overgrown mess of jagged coarse hair that stuck out at odd angles. He looked so frail, so small. Gone was the massive bear of a man, and instead lay a broken, beaten thing. Freddy had been a plaything to the Coven, and they were finally done with him. Like the cruel hands of a child they had broken him, and then left him in the forest to rot. It would break even the most stalwart of hearts. The world is cruel to the gentle, and Freddy knew that intimately. Still, this was a cruelty beyond understanding.
Once Freddy was deposited safely into bed, and his wounds tended to Deidre immediately got to work. It took some time to gather the necessary items, and a bit more to clean out the fireplace, but such preparations would be necessary if she was to properly see the ritual through. Dirt from her garden had been collected into a large pot and placed beside the freshly-cleaned hearth, along with everything else she would need, and only then would she seat herself before the fire, taking a moment to calm her mind and collect herself; what was to follow would be taxing, but she didn't have time to rest. Freddy didn't have time. When she finally did speak, her voice was loud and booming - commanding authority over the magics coursing through her veins.
"Oh, evil foe, your power is none, The hex is broken, the spell undone. With blood, candle, and scent times three, No longer shall this binding be. As I burn this hair, part of thee, Let thy heart and soul be free."
It didn't take long for the items to burn. She worked on Freddy's first, setting his hair alight in the crackling flames, only to be followed by the remaining contents of the jar - even the nub of black candle was thrown in, the wax congealing with the ashy remains of its companion items; the only thing she did not burn was the charm which had been gifted to him by her granddaughter. Once the task was complete, she scooped all the remaining ash back into the jar and sealed it with hot wax dripped from a white candle. This process was repeated for the other jar as well, as she did not wish for those poor souls to remain trapped somewhere between life and death. This was the only way she could see to bring them true peace.
"Any curses placed on thee I now bury in the earth deeply."
With the jars sealed and placed side-by-side within the hole she'd dug in the large pot of dirt, extra care was taken to pack everything down tightly before continuing with the ritual.
"The curse, the hex was buried deep Its hold over thee it can no longer keep."
Once the jars were covered over, Deidre sat back on her knees, ignoring the painful crackling of her joints, and lifted a dagger from its place at her side. The blade was brought to rest against her palm, and after a swift downward motion, her own blood spilled free, flesh parting to send sanguine droplets raining down upon the potted earth as she squeezed her hand into a fist.
"And for those who doth cast despair Binding thee with golden hair. I send to them this well-earned curse - Let their evil spell reverse! Upon thy home, great torment gifted. Never shall this spell be lifted."
The last line was delivered with a darkened gaze, and even darker tone; truthfully, the old woman had no idea who had tied poor Freddy to such a wretched fate, but she could not deny her own deep desire to see them pay for what they'd done. Perhaps, such a spell would draw out the culprits - a possibility she was willing to risk at the opportunity to see some manner of justice served.
Only when the task was complete would the woman return to Freddy's side, taking his bony hand within her own as she peered with saddened hope into his gaunt features.
"Fred, my dear boy, the way is open. The door unlocked." A gentle squeeze was dealt to the hand within her grasp. "I've done all I can, the rest is up to you..."
