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In a small little village, the sun was just beginning to rise. An old farmer was on the way to his field when he heard a faint cry from just off the roadside. Soon many villagers all crowded around a sickly goat kid sitting in the bushes on the merchant’s road. The frail little thing could barley bleat.
Livestock was hard to come by around here, someone must have just abandoned it while passing through. No one from the village was missing an animal, it could only be a traveller who’d left it to die. Some of the more confident farmers were already eyeing up the kid. Confident they’d be able to nurse it back to health. Wasn’t this just a bit of luck?
As the adults all discussed who should take it back with them, the village’s only chosen approached. A young man whose hair curled and twisted along with a wreath of branches that grew around his brow. Looking at the goat’s shining yellow eyes and thin body. He stared on in silence a moment. The elders of the village assumed he’d be happy to help them nurse the pitiful thing back to health. He was chosen by nature after all. He’d kept their fields thriving for years.
To their surprise, his gaze only became colder, “Do not touch this beast. Leave it where it is.”
The villager’s all began to disagree. Arguing their opinion, without for a moment asking why he’d made such a command. What had him so weary of such a little thing.
Aspen looked at the elder’s who had no intention of listening to his warning. Still, he tried again.
“Do not touch it, nor let your children or animals near it.”
The small crowd all shook their heads disappointed in him. Lecturing how beneficial having a goat could be. That it would be a shame to not help the poor little thing. That he wasn’t following his path properly to forsake an animal. One farmer began approaching the goat to pick it up, it bleated meekly at his approach.
Aspen knew something was off, sensed the nature of the goat was wrong. He did not understand how the villager’s hair wasn’t standing on end. Perhaps if he hadn’t the experiences he did, even he wouldn’t have noticed. This thing was heralding something. So, he tried one last time, unsure how to put into words his inkling.
“If you bring that thing into the village. Do not say I didn’t warn you. To touch it is to invite trouble into your homes.”
A few of the villagers seemed to waver at his words, finally considering he was being serious. But the farmer who’d approached still picked up the goat. A few others elders had ignored him completely, eagerly appraising the kid that was carried over. Agreeing it would make a full recovery, and could soon guard their flocks. Their confidence swayed the hesitating ones back to their side. So, the little goat it’s fur a marble of black and white, was brought into the village.
So, Aspen went to the village head with his concerns. Tried to explain the threat he sensed. But when the farmer’s made their case the head decided to agree with them. They were more voices and all his elders after all. Being chosen suddenly meant nothing, all he’d done for them meant nothing. Aspen packed his thing and left the village that same day. The vivid blooms and branches at his brow withering with frost.
Aspen understood, the goat was their trial to suffer. They’d made their choice. He had to leave them to their consequences. No matter the anxiety that bubbled in his heart.
On his way to the city, he made sure to warn the neighboring villages and the chosen who lived there of the omen. In the neighboring town there lived Lenora a woman chosen by rain. They’d helped each other during harsher growing season many times. She shivered as Aspen described the situation. After the rest of the region had faced drought. She had saved her town from suffering. She now had a strong influence, unlike Aspen. She was keenly aware how often nature was taken for granted.
She gave a reassuring pat to his shoulder wishing him well. Ensuring her own village would stay clear of his from now on. Aspen felt a bit better knowing whatever mistake he’d failed to prevent wouldn’t spread past the edges of his own -ex- home.
-
After some time travelling, Aspen made it to the city. Back in the village the kid was already in full health. The children of the village loved watching it hop around. One child in between fits of laughter, coughed roughly.
In the city busy and bustling, Aspen arrived at his old friend’s home. It had been too long since they’d last met. He was unsure if the address was correct until he approached it. On the edges of the noise and liveliness this street was still and solemn. A crumbling church and a graveyard sat at the end of it. Aspen smiled knowing only his friend could live in a place like this.
As he raised his hand to knock the door opened, a tall man dressed in draping dark colours smiled at him. Nour’s deep eyes, familiar dark circles around them. He hadn’t changed much. Chosen by death, his own magic was subtle compared to most. He lived on this desolate block because of the energy he gained from being so close to the church and the death it regularly dealt in. Death chosen were often feared, so no small town would ever want to be under his care. So large cities in dark corners often made for the best spot.
Aspen smirked, “How did you know I was coming?”
Leaves began to grow again admits his branches, the frost melting as soon as he was in Nour’s company.
Nour gestured to the flower pots on his windowsill, “They came back to life didn’t they.”
Aspen glanced through the window at the pitiful and dried out looking plants there. They were perking up more with every passing moment. He’d recalled sending the seeds himself, he’d infused so much into them in hopes his friend would be able to keep them alive. It seems though they’d failed to not die, with his presence they were once again willing to try.
Nour beckoned him inside.
-
Months passed in the blink of an eye. A mature goat with long black fur and powerful horns stood on a grazing hill. Casting a long shadow that stretched out and over the village below. In the early morning mist, the wails of a mother echo across the fields. As her child is buried in the freshly upturned soil. A line of new graves scars the landscape. The years scratched onto their marker’s barley a brief time, even when added together. The faint sound of a child’s cough admits the mourners only makes the grieving sob harder.
In the city, the once dark and gloomy abode of Nour looks a bit brighter. Plants that prefer the sort of aura he emits have been grown, mushrooms and the many flowers that grow from gravesides are thriving. Songbirds now chase and play with the local crows.
Aspen is out having been commissioned to help with the city’s park design. When a heavy knock comes to the door, Noth looks up from his own work surprised. He senses the vicious aura of a curse. Opening the door carefully the sunken and pale faces of a few strangers greet him. When they see him, their faces fall significantly.
Their clearly not from the city, the group look travel weary and unwell. Nour doesn’t need to guess where these folk come from. The clear plague curse emitting off them makes it obvious for a death chosen like himself. These are people from Aspen’s old village.
They ask if he knows where they might find Aspen. When he asks what for they get fidgety, shyly admitting they want his help. Clearly, they expect him to somehow save them. Having no patience for the people who disregarded his friends’ words Nour is blunt with them.
“It’s too late. If you had listened to natures warning earlier, you wouldn’t be suffering now.”
The trio of villager’s look at him shocked, understanding that he must know Aspen. The two young men who’ve come glance at the woman in their group. Clearly, she’s meant to be the mediator. She pleads to Nour, explaining how the children of the village have all fallen ill. Slowly dying one by one. The adults are showing signs of the same illness, though none have yet to die from it. They beg for his assistance asking if he’s also chosen, could he help them instead.
Nour tells them to leave but as he goes to close the door the two men push their way in. Blocking the door from closing and grabbing the gangly man and dragging him out.
When Aspen return’s he finds the door to the house open. The crows call from the roof top, screaming out.
Ungrateful! Kidnappers! Thieves! Cursed!
Thorns begin to sprout from his brow, as Aspen carefully steps inside. A familiar young woman sits at the table inside, calm and collected. Showing no guilt for breaking into someone else’s home. Really Aspen wants to sigh, the cockiness of these people. He wonder’s how he’d never noticed until now. They’d become so entitled to his blessings; something had gone rotten within them. Perhaps that’s why a curse had been sent.
Aspen tries not to grumble as he speaks, “What do you want.”
The woman looks up at him, veiled desperation in her eyes. She explains what has happened since he left. Ending her spiel with a request that fells more like a demand.
“We need your help.”
“I cannot help you.”
Her brow furrows, “Then well take your friend back with us. Either your or he must help us.”
Aspen couldn’t help but laugh, “You really can’t help but twist the dagger in your chest, out of spite can you. Dragging him back there would only allow your doom to come quicker. Though that too would be a way to end your people’s suffering.”
The woman looked taken aback. Before she could ask, he continued. Using the tone, he’d used to lecture the children of the village many times.
“Bringing one chosen by death, to an area afflicted with a plague curse. Would only give more power to the death that is chasing you.”
Her face paled at that, suddenly she seemed worried for her companions.
Aspen pointed out the door, “Go get them. Don’t worry. He wouldn’t harm them. Though, just trying to not aggravate your condition must require quite the effort on his part. So be quick.”
The woman rushed out the door, retrieving her allies from wherever they’d gone to hide. When Nour in his long strides returned. He looked ruffled but no worse for wear. The guilty trio behind him were giving him a wide berth. Now terrified of the man they’d dragged around not long before. Nour’s face turned serious as he stopped in front of Aspen.
“I’ve analysed it. Being stuck with them gave me some insights. After communing with their curse. The remaining children might be saved if we get there in time.”
Aspen blinked at him in surprise, “Could they really?”
Though the adult’s had ignored his warning. It had been their children who were first to pay the price. They hadn’t had the power to chose, yet were dying for it. If they could be saved, Aspen would be more then willing to return.
Nour nodded, “They will have to leave the village. But I should be able to coax the curse once their clear of it’s radius.”
The three behind him perked up again, “Can you really help us?”
Nour’s face hardened, “Aspen and I can help the children. Not you. The adults of your village have sealed their fate. The only reason the children have a chance is by being separated from you.”
The faces of the three fell again, suddenly struck with their own doom. The woman regained her sense first though, quickly asking if they could set off immediately. Pulling out her locket and revealing the carved likeness of a small infant. Aspen remembered blessing the child when it was born. Truly if he could help the cute little ones who’d always followed him around and listened to him so intently…
The thought of how many of them were even left now passed through. The grief that washed over him made his blood run cold. The stone he’d tried to build up against the harsh fate of the villagers crumbled. Nour could see his friend’s heartbreak as he gazed at the carving of the child. He quietly rested his hand on Aspen’s back supporting him.
Setting off immediately. With the blessings of nature’s chosen speeding up the journey, they returned to the village in half the time it should have taken. Nour stayed a village away with Lenora who was more then happy to host him. As Aspen returned with the trio.
The elders of the village at first rejoiced when they saw the party approach. But when the woman suddenly ran for her home, returning with her child bundled in her arms. The elder’s excitement waned. The two men also made for their home, one lifting their sick children from their beds. As the other dragged over a cart for the children to be placed in. Seeing the three’s frantic actions the elders looked on growing more and more confused.
The woman had tears running down her face as she rocked her child in her arms for the last time. She explained what had to be done. The elder’s all began to raise their voices as they disagreed, reprimanding Aspen for not helping them sooner. The few other remaining parents in the village though, were quick to follow his instruction. Ignoring the fussing of the elders. Bringing their weak and fading young ones out and neatly sorting them into the cart.
Aspen glanced around, all the animals from the village had already died out. The only living livestock was the goat, watching on from a distance. Likely even if they hadn’t originally listened to him. Once they’d realised he’d been right, they’d left it alone.
He decided he’d give his final explanation, hoping to silence the elders disagreeing with their adult children who were piling their grandchildren into the cart. Nour after studying it on the way, had recited the cruse’s intent to him on the journey here. Now he repeated it to the sickly villagers.
“First the animals will grow sick, so you will remember what it is to be hungry. Then your descendants will wilt and fade, so you will remember whose future you’ve stolen. Last will be you, who must watch on and suffer as you bury what cannot be replaced. From your bodies green will grow grateful for their short eternity.”
Slowly the elders became still and listened. As Aspen spoke, a second voice was whispering along from up on the hill. The adult’s all felt a chilling breath on the back of their necks and a burning hand upon their shoulder.
The children were carried away in the cart pushed by a calm fall wind. Aspen hummed walking beside it, trying to soothe the smallest babe placed in a basket within the cart. The parent’s watching on wept silently trying to not cry too hard while their children could still see them.
The children’s dull complexions slowly lessened the farther away they got. The adults left behind stood in silence a moment. Listening for the sound of their children’s coughing, and feeling relieved when they could hear none. Only the faint sound of the wind and a lullaby echoed across the barren fields.
The weak and drained adults almost felt like celebrating, until distant bleating sent new shivers down their spines.
-
Lenora cooed as she helped tend to one of the children, the smell of petrichor always followed her. The kids seemed to like the smell and took to her quickly. Nour was less approachable to the kids. Bedside’s checking on if the curse had been cleansed, he kept his distance. Somewhat jealous of the way the kids would cling to Aspen and Lenora.
The older kids had passed away first, all of the surviving kids were relatively young. Once their health had returned to them, they’d quickly become little trouble makers again. Lenora was happy to help the two men take care of the children until they were sure they were cured. They’d decide what to do next after that.
Secretly what Lenora loved most was teasing her friend about his tall dark and… somewhat off-putting crush. She’d heard enough about him over the years. Always missing him anytime he’d visited she was glad she’d gotten a chance to chat with him finally.
She laughed along with the kids when flowers burst from Aspen’s brow in his embarrassment. The love rhymes she’d taught the kids proving effective. The death chosen at his side completely clueless. Nour smiled fondly, admiring the blooms.