Red

Chapter 8: Red

The grass-covered ground danced lightly in the gentle wind. There was no clear cut trail now. Huntress and Champ walked surely and steadily, and swung their heads playfully. Crows and bluebirds flew friskily overhead. The sky was grey blue, matching the sea below.

It was beautiful. The water sparkled brighter and the waves crashed harder than in their world. There was more life to it, like the sea was itself a creature. Tiny specks floated in the distance; perhaps they were sailboats, but it was too far to be sure. 

They gazed in awe upon the majestic turquoise sea as their horses worked their way up an ascending cliff. 

The crashing waves were loud and demanding. Past the noise of the sea, a high-pitched instrument whistled somewhere unknown. “Do you hear that?” Rowan asked Hawthorn.

“Yeah. It kind of sounds like your flochin.” 

“It’s Maylin,” Rowan said. 

As they made their way higher up the hill, Rowan’s thoughts drifted to her. It had been a clear, brisk day, and she and him had accidentally wandered into an Oak forest. 

"This might be the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,” Maylin said, gazing up at the dense oak canopy, their branches long and winding. A touch of sunlight peaked through an opening, creating a small patch of light on the otherwise dim forest floor. 

She stood in it and smiled at Rowan, her yellow eyes shining like diamonds carved right out of the sun. 

Rowan smiled back. He took out his flochin from his backpack, perched on a tree stump, and created the best music he could manage. 

Maylin looked at him curiously, then sat next to him and listened. 

Rowan stopped and held it out to her. She looked uncertain. 

“You want me to play?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Rowan said, “I want to hear your music.” 

Carefully, she took the warm instrument in her hands, put it to her mouth, and blew. 

Even though it was her first time, her melody was angelic. Her soft, sweet notes took him to another world, one he had never seen before: Clear waterfalls pouring from a pink sky, revitalizing the lush green lands, making the trees grow taller, the rocks smoother, the dirt richer, the streams run faster… it left Rowan completely breathless. 

The magical tune ended as soon as it began. Maylin looked up shyly at Rowan. 

“Was that good?” she asked. 

Rowan looked at her, smiled, and kissed her softly. “Yes,” he whispered, “Thank you.” 

------ 

At the top of the cliff stood another white monolith with an entrance. An apple tree appeared to the right. 

Donnelley croaked, “Go ahead boys, you know what to do. Eat the apples and enter the cave that welcomes you with the delightful unknown.” 

Rowan and Hawthorn quickly ate a couple of apples, then headed into the cave. It was dark, muggy, and wet like the last one, but this time there was a path straight ahead and one to the right. Both paths appeared safe, so Rowan kicked Huntress to the right. 

“The ground looks less stable here,” Hawthorn said.

“I don’t notice anything.”

Rowan studied the ground. It suddenly looked oddly raised in some places, and some spots seemed to be trembling the slightest amount. He knew Hawthorn was right. Yet, something in him wanted a challenge. 

“Listen,” Donnelley said. “The ground is very unstable here. I would advice against this path. I would guess that your intuition is telling you the same?”

Rowan sighed. “We’ve made it this far alive. What could be so bad?” He felt more confident after fighting off the Deepseckies. Unstable ground was nothing compared to wild monsters. Even if there were more monsters down the way, he would at least be able to practice using his sword. 

Rowan continued and the rest followed. On the muddy walls were unfamiliar ancient hieroglyphs, and after studying them for a while, Rowan realized that they would appear and disappear and appear again. 

“Donnelley, what does this mean?” Hawthorn asked with genuine awe in his voice. 

Donnelley remained quiet. 

Rowan looked on ahead at the darkness. Low and behold, those same dark liquid drops from the first cave were back again, oozing from the cave ceiling. There were no other ways to get around it; the path was straight forward. The buzzing ball of sound was back as well, and it was louder than before. 

“Just keep walking forward…” Rowan said, petting Huntresses’ shoulder. He heard Hawthorn whimper in fear. “Follow me and it will be fine,” Rowan reassured his brother. 

Despite their tremulous demeanors, the horses continued forward into the buzzing darkness. 

Rowan studied the drops carefully. They were falling fast. The drops blended in with the dark cave, and, despite their black sight, soon it was impossible to see them clearly. 

A cold splatter fell onto Rowan’s forehead. He panicked and sent Huntress into a gallop until he reached the end of the liquid ceiling. He looked back and cursed. “Hawthorn. come on!” Hawthorn was gingerly stepping in between the falling drops. i/it doesn’t matter anymore… Rowan thought.  “Run over here,” he yelled, his voice echoing throughout the cave. 

“No.” Hawthorn focused hard on avoiding the drops, looking up at the ceiling and turning Champ this way and that, zig-zagging to and fro. Finally, they met up with Rowan and Huntress. 

“Hawthorn, it doesn’t matter anymore. A drop already hit me,” Rowan said admittedly. 

Hawthorn shuddered and stared at the ground, dazed with fear. His eyes lifted to Rowan’s shoulder. “…Where’s Donnelley?” 

“What?” Rowan looked at his shoulder. “Oh, that’s weird…,” he said, ponderous. “Maybe he got impatient and beat us out of here?” The possibility that something happened to Donnelley because he was hit by a drop crossed his mind, but he stayed silent.

On they went, around a corner and through another dull straight path, until they reached the end. Brilliant green and yellow scintillations spilled through the opening. 

They stepped out onto a small emerald plateau, where there was a gigantic boulder protruding from the brush straight ahead. 

The sky was light green and gold; the sun pierced the clouds with its rays of teeth. The air felt especially warm, even with the cold waves crashing below. Rowan observed that they were on the highest point on the hill, high up above the sea, although he could not trace back how much distance they had covered, since time had gotten warped in between worlds. 

Then, with a mighty show, a flame, furious and red, blew out from behind the boulder. The boys gasped and stepped back as a gargantuan green dragon flew up from behind the boulder and landed on it, shaking the whole ground. 

Rowan gulped. “I think that might be Donnelley…,” he muttered fearfully. 

He instinctively reached for his sword. 

A red streak of fire shot toward him. He dodged it, then ran toward the dragon and, with a wild yell, swung his sword at the dragon’s low-hanging neck. The blade pierced its skin but left only a small, insignificant gash. Fiercely focused, he sprinted out of the way of the giant reptilian head. Dark dragon eyes gleamed like murky moonlit water, just inches away. 

“You didn’t listen…” the dragon said, his voice thunderous. 

“What do you mean?” Rowan asked. 

“You knowingly chose the path that was wrong. You put yourself and everyone in danger, because you wanted to challenge the truth,” the dragon said. “Fear, ego, and blindness were what I felt emanating from your lost spirit as I sat trustingly on your shoulder. You turned your eyes from me, yourself, and the Otherworld.” The dragon dropped his head. “I am no longer Donnelley. I am a dragon spirit, and my purpose now is to challenge you to one last battle.” 

Author's Note

It's been a while since I've worked on this story, so I hope that it still flows well and carries the same tone as before. Enjoy!