To Grapple Death’s Myrmidon

Through a lattice of leaves the sun did cast its eye, tears of luminescent gold staining the quaint meadow Inonder rifled through. Fruit often grew here in sweet clusters, and one was hard pressed to beat the dawn, lest birds and wild beasts steal their share. Much to the boar’s chagrin, however, it seemed she was too late. What little of the clearing’s bounty remained lay flattened against the forest floor, soiled and unsalvageable. 

“Dammit…” She snarled, one cloven foot irately kicking at the ground. She half-turned to leave, pausing with one leg raised as a strange sight caught her attention. A young sapling, frail and willowy, stood just behind her. Odd, for she’d recognized no new growth a week prior. Stranger still it stood alone, no bough or old giant quite matching its likeness. As she risked a step closer the shoot shifted, rocking sharply back and forth. Before her eyes it uprooted itself, snaking quickly away and drawing her gaze upward. Cold yellow eyes met her own, and a beast of iridescent white let forth a sickening scream, strings of yellow-gray saliva clinging to its gaping maw. As it rose above her its true size became ever apparent. The serpent (if one could even call it that) was utterly colossal, body as wide and thick around as any ancient tree. Its belly, distended and riddled with wounds new and old, seemed to bulge with the weight of a recent meal. Bile rose in Inonder’s throat, and she bit back a gag. What…or who had it eaten? Worry for her dear father overwhelmed her fear, and she steeled herself with planted feet. She could not fell this evil alone, but she could keep it occupied for a time. As if predicting her desire to fight the serpent lunged at her, jaws wide, coiled body shifting to prevent her escape. The forest, her forest, graciously offered its roots, gangly limbs bursting from the dirt and grasping at the monster’s writhing form. It would have brought her immeasurable satisfaction to paint the field red with its innards, but the drain on her energy would have been too severe. Instead she would draw it into a game of cat and mouse, predator and prey. Inonder turned and fled, slowing her pursuer with further obstacles as its jaws snapped at its restraints. It seemed reluctant to stray far, often circling back in the direction of the field before lunging for her once more, as if conflicted. Why it appeared so incapable of wandering she was not sure, nor could she digress whether it desired to remain permanently. It had to have traveled here from somewhere- perhaps from deep within the earth, given its pale complexion. As she paused to catch her breath behind a copse of redwood trees, the snake launched itself forward with a garbled hiss. The trunks groaned and cracked against its weight, and the boar took a step back with bared fangs. Gray-brown roots struck its sensitive belly, raking across old wounds, and earning a raucous screech as the beast snapped its jaws in vain. A small victory, but a temporary one. Inonder’s legs began to tremble, weakened by the strain of her magic, and she knew this could not go on much longer if she wished to escape unscathed. She turned tail quickly, vision darkening at the edges as the beginnings of her punishment began to take hold. Twigs and foliage alike were crushed, carelessly flattened beneath the belly of the beast as it pursued her with renewed vigor. Praying that she would not come to regret her course of action, the mage wiggled her way beneath the embrace of a hollow tree, as she had done in childhood so long ago. She was not afraid now, but she was weak and tired. What little energy she had left was used to move the tree’s weary roots over herself, out of the serpent’s line of sight.

WC: 657