Chapter 6: Chapter Six – The Guardian of Deepshadows

As Calamitous gazed at the Tree of Deepshadows, he began to understand more fully what evil the tree caused, for it did more than just poison the world of Riven. It also drew all warmth and life from the land where it grew, therefore, the larger that vile tree became, the more it sucked the world of its vitality.

The tree was, indeed, larger now than when his parents had eaten from it, for with every death; every time someone or something suffered, the Tree of Deepshadows grew in size and strength. At the time when Calamitous stood before it, the tree had spread its twisted and tangled roots over the whole crater which was some six hundred yards wide. The tree itself had grown sixty feet in height, and the circumference of its trunk was six feet around.

Upon the tree itself and all around its exposed roots, putrid-smelling fungus grew. These strange looking mushrooms oozed black syrupy juice making the tree look as though it was bleeding black blood. In the tree’s vine-like branches, shiny, pitch-colored fruit hung ripe for the picking.

Coiled around the shadow-tree’s gnarled roots, an adolescent she-Dragon lay in quiet slumber. Even at her young age, she was as large as an elephant, and as long as six horses, head to tail, in a line.

The flying serpent looked like her father, Illwind. She was covered in bristling scales that resembled shards of obsidian. Her leathery black wings were folded against her long back. Cruel spikes that resembled the jagged teeth of a shark ran down the full length of her spine, and two great horns rose up from the back of her angular head. Viciously sharp claws decorated each and every one of her four feet, and yet her forepaws more closely resembled the hands of men.

Boldly, Calamitous strolled up to the young Dragon, for the Ancients were not seized by Dragon-fear as are we lesser-men.

“Move aside, Dragon,” Calamitous commanded.

“What have I to do with you, Son of Dust?” the flying serpent asked without stirring.

The Ancient was surprised at the Dragon’s response, for in those days, all creatures were quick to honor the requests of mankind. Calamitous shook off his confusion, and thinking perhaps that the beast misunderstood his purpose, he explained further.

“I have come to bring this tree to its ruin, for when I was born, a bolt of lightning destroyed a tree, and in the same way I shall put an end to this one!”

The sleeping Dragon only opened one glossy-black eye and gazed at the Ancient. In a sleepy growl, she scoffed, “Do you mean to tell me that you’ve come all this way on a fool’s errand just because a stray bolt of lighting hit a tree on the day you were born?!?”

“Well, yes. Have I not said so?!?” Calamitous growled as he felt his anger rise at this disregard for his purpose, and his eyes flared like coals within a bellows’ breath.

“Then, I cannot move, for we are at odds with one another,” the flying serpent hissed with little concern in her tone.

“How is it that we are at odds?” Calamitous questioned with a puzzled expression.

The Dragon yawned and then replied, “Quite simply put, you are here to destroy that which I have been commanded to protect.”

“Who would command such a thing?!? Calamitous asked with a slightly disturbed tone.

“My master,” the serpent replied with no further details.

“Very well then, if you are determined to serve your master at the peril of your own life, so be it. I will simply slay you so that I can undo this vile tree,” the Ancient proclaimed while pointing Wrath-bringer at the Dragon.

The flying serpent hissed out a scoffing laugh and then closed her eye dismissively.

Again, anger stirred in the Ancient’s heart. “Are you not afraid of me, for I am Calamitous?!?”

The Dragon did not even open her eye a second time. “Take account of yourself, young whelp, for you’re not nearly strong enough to defeat me. I will admit, however, that I would have some cause to fear if ever you ate from this sacred tree, for by its fruit, you would be strong enough to slay me. But I need not fear that, for few who come to destroy a thing are wise enough to first eat from it.”

Calamitous gazed at the tree and thought of how all his family looked to him as the deliverer who would destroy the Tree of Deepshadows, and secretly, he hoped that once the task was complete, they would no longer hold him at such a distance.

“Could it be that I must eat from the tree so that I can then destroy it?” he asked himself within his mind.

Sadly, in this way Calamitous was beguiled by the words of the she-Dragon, and so he reached forth his hand and took the black fruit to his lips tasting its syrupy juice. After he had eaten from the Tree of Deepshadows, he did indeed feel a great strength rush over his body, and so he gripped the hilt of Wrath-bringer and made ready for battle.

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“Fear now, foolish Dragon!” he shouted with a cruel grin. “For are you not foolish?!? Did you not tell me how that I could vanquish you?”

Again, the Dragon made no effort to rise from her place but let out a hissing and rumbling chuckle.

“Do you still not fear me?” Calamitous asked with bewilderment.

The flying serpent replied with little interest. “Why should I fear you, little brother?”

“Brother?!?” The Ancient suddenly felt very unsure of himself, and the fruit seemed to have gone sour in his stomach. Ignoring his growing nausea, he continued to question the serpent. “Do you not know of the prophecy that says, ‘a son shall come from the womb and destroy this tree?’”

“I do.” the young Dragon replied with a snort of derision.

Calamitous straightened himself so that he stood at his full height. “I am that son,” he declared with open pride.

“Are you?” the she-Dragon asked with one large black eye gazing at the young man. “For does not the prophecy also say that his heart shall not be defiled by the tree though he be pierced by its thorns? Moreover, how could one destroy that which gives him his strength? Would that not show a complete lack of gratitude? Besides all this, are you not now my little brother by way of the Shadows? And siblings do not slay one another… Or do they?” she added in a thoughtful tone.

Suddenly, Calamitous began to notice, to his sorrow, that the desire in his heart to destroy the evil tree was fading. This realization caused a look of horror to grow upon his once handsome face. With a shuddered gasp of understanding, Calamitous loosed his grip upon Wrath-bringer’s hilt. The heavy stone sword dropped downward and stabbed itself into the ground.

Stumbling away, Calamitous began to make his way home. He earnestly desired to crawl into his mother’s lap. He wished, with a desperate wish, that she would embrace him, and tell him that he had only been having a terrible nightmare. However, he knew that this could not be, and despair began to fill his heart.

“Not only am I useless, but I am a failure also.” He groaned to himself.

As he went, he came to the narrow sea, and kneeling down, he moved to take a drink of the cold water, for in those days the seas of Riven were not overly salty.

In that act, he noticed his own reflection for the first time, and a renewed sense of horror filled his heart and mind.

The color and light within his skin had faded completely only to be replaced by grayish flesh. His hair had lost its colorful luster becoming dull black and lifeless. The shifting colors of his eyes turned a pale gray while the whites of his eyes were now as black as pitch.

Calamitous angrily slapped at the reflection in the water, and then stumbled forward continuing his homeward journey. When he came to where the sky was no longer shrouded in thick clouds and noxious smoke, the sun shone down upon his flesh, and immediately began to cause him great pain. However, in his dazed and confused state, he did not understand why his skin burned, and so he went on.

Soon he became delirious with pain, and his addled mind began to see ghostly faces peering at him from around every tree. They seemed to mock his suffering, and he yelled at them to leave him alone.

Finally, his own face came before his blurred eyes. It was not the face he had now – not gray and colorless, but it was the face he had in his beauty, and the sight of it caused him to fly into a rage. He leapt forward and began to smash the face with his fists as hard as he could. Over and over, he struck it until it was no longer recognizable.

Suddenly, a shriek of horror awoke him from his feverish hallucinations. He sat back upon his heels and only then realized that he was on his knees. Raising a hand to wipe sweat from his brow, he noticed it was covered in blood. He inspected the other, and it too was bloody. Fear began to seize his heart. He looked down and found that someone lay beneath him. The person’s face was so disfigured by the beating he had given it that he could not tell who it was that lay gurgling upon his own blood.

Still the endless screaming split his ears, and so he looked up from the dying man to see who kept shouting. To his horror, he found Beauteous, the wife of Salubrious, shrieking in terror. When his eyes fell upon her, she bolted away in utter panic and fled to the west not stopping until she had no strength left in her legs. Thus, the wife of Salubrious was never seen again by any of the elder-folk.

When Calamitous saw the wife of his brother, he knew, with sickening dread, who it was that lay beneath him. As he recalled the face he thought had been his own, he realized now that its expression had not been one of mocking, but it had been full of compassion.

As he replayed the events of the past few minutes in his mind, there was no doubt. Salubrious must have seen him stumbling forward, and so he had come to aid him. This was always the way of his brother. Salubrious was always so caring, and yet, in his delirium, Calamitous had attacked the one person who had loved him most in all the world.

With his heart utterly broken and full of despair, Calamitous stumbled away from his dying brother and fled back to the north where he wandered alone in the wild and empty land.

 

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