Julia had become nothing more than a walking corpse. As this terrible realisation settled, he understood that he was going to die here; in this cold and lonely place, isolated from human life. A piercing chill shot down his spine, his body collapsing in exhaustion and defeat. "I feel so numb… and cold…" he murmured.
Julia was a complete mess. His face was covered in a disgusting mixture of snot, sweat, and tears; meanwhile, strands of hair plastered to his face, soaked in the three, as well as plenty of mud and dirt. His pale skin was bruised and cut… It was difficult to recall, but no doubt he must have fallen over many times; caring not one bit each time he toppled over. His only wish was to run and get as far away as possible.
Despite this, Julia's worries and distress weren't about the pains and aches of his body. The cruel anticipation of torture before dying painfully, in a way that left his remains unrecognisable, made him want to vomit; if he hadn't already. But even then, that did not concern him the most. It was knowing that he had spent more than half his life, suffering these ten awful, gruelling years, without ever knowing if it would get better, and in the end… getting absolutely nowhere. Dying in an unknown, cursed forest out of sight. Finding Oskar now only added insult to injury. Was he hated by god? Had he somehow wronged her in a past life, and was now receiving retribution for it?
Moments before passing out again, with the horribly malformed, decaying corpses of the aberrants slowly fading from sight… Julia mustered something that resembled laughter.
When Julia woke up, he was astonished. He thought he would end up in the afterlife. Unless his destination would be someplace else? He didn't assume himself to end up in heaven, if anywhere, but he was shocked to find himself waking up in the exact location he had passed out in. He was still in the forest, where he was relentlessly hunted and pursued, and it turned out that he hadn't even moved an inch at that… His back was pressed against the tree from before.
Julia had enough evidence to know that he didn't die in the end, but he had no clue as to why. His flesh should have been torn up, corroded, and devoured until he resembled those aberrants. He was defenceless; surely, he should have been killed. For what reason had they left him untouched?
Looking down at his body, confirming it was intact, Julia found himself covered in these strange little creatures. Their hollow eye caverns, bulbous heads, and pallid, near-transparent flesh was mildly unsettling, but their presence was strangely comforting in a way; which was a feeling that made him question the wellness of his mind. To be thinking such a thing, even subconsciously… No, the fact that it was a subconscious thought made it worse.
It wasn't until his muddled thoughts cleared that he realised what they were. He had never seen them take this form before, but after closely observing them scamper around his person for a moment, with some even stopping and watching him back at times, Julia understood that they were undeniably the same villagers who were responsible for haunting him the past decade. Something had changed from how he knew them, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was them.
Julia startledly sat up, only for the villagers to scamper away, disappearing the moment they escaped his peripheral vision. Perhaps they were shy, or this newly acquired form wasn't sustainable. Whatever the case, Julia didn't know when they would retake this appearance; or for a better query, why they took this form to begin with.
Mustering the strength to stand himself up, he was surprised to find that the aberrants from before were not totally gone. The aberrant corpses had fallen, reduced to their original state of death; it was apparent that their rest was permanent this time.
Corpses were not easy for Julia to discern from inanimate objects; this made it easy to clarify whether something was still alive or not… or whether something abhorrent was possessing its corpse. The dreadful spirits no longer held possession of their bodies, as if they had turned tail and ran, warded away by something.
It was hard to believe, but it was probably the doing of the strange creatures. Julia assumed the villagers to be no match for that abhorrent species of spirit, but it seemed that there was more to his own than he thought. Had they grown in strength over a decade of lingering resentment, or was this a sudden onset of newly found incitement? Julia had only just woken up and his head was starting to hurt.
"I need a drink…" he mumbled to himself before reaching inside his pocket, pulling out a metal container and unscrewing its lid. His throat was parched beyond belief but he hardly took this swig for that reason. Swirling the flask in his hand, leaning back against the tree, Julia sighed as he let the liquid swish in a gentle spiral motion; he needed a moment before continuing his journey through this nightmarish forest. Nothing was hiding in the shadows, so he could afford to do this, thankfully.
He didn't allow this moment to carry on too long. As hesitant as he was to brave the forest again, Julia didn't want to become food for rampant corpses. His priority now was finding a way out of this damned forest. Who knew when similar apparitions would appear, or if he would be so lucky that he survives the second time.
When it came to choosing where to go next, the decision was not an easy one. Julia wanted to avoid meeting any more of them at all costs. Losing track of his location, the map was useless; on the main road, he could navigate with its help, but in such an obscure place now, it wasn't the same.
Picture planes were the most challenging thing to make out for him. He had become familiar with the map after some time, but posters and signs were his most formidable enemies. If he was lucky, someone nearby could read out the contents for him. It seemed like a miracle when he spotted the path on the map for this reason; but now, it appeared to have been a tragedy in disguise. Although, he wouldn't have met Oskar had he not gone this way. It proved to be a boon and a curse.
In this circumstance, however, Julia's sight was his method of securing a path out of harm's way. He could scan the area, looking out for malicious creatures ahead of time, and slowly find his way out of the forest; then onwards to Cherepakha, finally reaching Oskar. But when he finally started his challenging exit, he found himself face to face with someone.
What in the—! His eyes widened as he instantly reeled back, his face turning multiple shades paler. This person was so close so suddenly, and he had been completely unaware of their approach! Julia was terribly skittish at this point, his nerves on edge, so his leap had him looking like a frightened cat.
"You there! Hello! Fancy coming across someone else in a place like this, eh?" Before Julia could collect his thoughts or speak a single word, the stranger casually smiled and opened conversation as if her actions were completely natural. Her polite smile relayed no shock, surprise, or wariness at discovering him, giving the insinuation that she must have known about his presence here long before approaching. Unless she really was as aloof as she appeared.
"What are you doing here? A place like this is no place for ladies," she remarked.
Julia stared at her without speaking for longer than what was socially acceptable. She seemed unfazed and patient, awaiting his response. Was she unaware of the awful fright she had given him? Then why wasn't she saying anything? In the silence, he eventually gathered his thoughts; to begin with, there were multiple things wrong with her sentence already. For instance, was she not a lady herself? And then, for that matter…
"I am not a lady," Julia responded with irritation masking fright.
"Hm? Strange. You look like a lady, you sound like a lady, and finally… you… feel like a lady… No, you feel like a lad actually. Perhaps you ain't one after all." The stranger donned a look of realisation before turning away and resigning herself. But as for Julia, he could not find the words to say anything. He was speechless. In only a few short moments of meeting each other, after she had nearly killed him through shock when he had just barely escaped death prior, she had firmly grabbed him where a stranger certainly should not. Julia felt confused… and… defiled somewhat.
"Please do not grab strangers you've just met," Julia said with a grave expression.
"Lass… I mean, lad. You are but a babe in my eyes, it's no great ordeal. You look about… twelve, if I am correct?"
"I am seventeen."
"Nary a difference."
"It's a difference of five years, how is that… uhm, 'nary' a difference?" Julia had yet to hear that word—no one he had met before this stranger had ever used it. Her accent was strange and hard to recognise too. Within the context, he presumed the word meant something along the lines of 'hardly'. But that was beside the point, and hardly relevant. Nary relevant? No, that doesn't sound right.
Julia felt his sense of reason slipping away as he held what seemed to be a light-hearted conversation; doing so with a woman he had just met, inside a place that was incomprehensibly dangerous. Her calm demeanour almost suggested that he had left the site of deranged abnormality unwittingly, and found a way out. But that couldn't be the case; so she was either foolishly ignorant, or had reason enough to not perceive the horrors of this forest as a threat.
If he was fortunate, then perhaps he really did escape already. However, the forest still reeked of death and decay, and he did not feel safe, so Julia doubted that. He wanted to remain covert from now on, but this woman was a problem and the cards dealt to him weren't great. She was either useless baggage, or an unimaginable existence; both were terrifying to him.
An unavoidable feeling of dread washed over him. After meeting this woman, he hadn't a clue what would happen next. He could only patiently watch her as he figured out what to say. Oddly enough, he felt strangely nostalgic when he looked upon her visage. The woman's face seemed familiar somehow.
Julia did not see faces like others did. But despite that, there was still consistency and even beauty. He could tell if someone had balanced facial proportions, whether they had facial hair or not, and even the colour of their various features… but it was as if looking at an abstract painting. For that reason, he didn't attach much value to others' faces. However, those he held strong emotional attachment to were different, and their faces were often clearer.
The woman was unfamiliar to him, but there was a sensation and feeling around her that was greatly like someone else he knew. It was… too familiar for a stranger. But who specifically that someone else may be was sitting on the edge of his tongue and he could not seem to shake the feeling nor could he understand what exactly it had originated from. Julia fell into silence, in which the stranger responded with her own silence as if acknowledging his thoughts and allowing him to deliberate. She was strange too in this sense. She had a deliberate patience, as if waiting a hundred years was no great task, much like… "Gwynevere…"
"Oh?" A pleasant tone rang out, as if it was only this moment when her interest had been genuinely piqued. She tilted her head slightly and said, "To hear that name, in a place like this. How surprising."
"What…?" He asked dumbly. Gwynevere was someone who held great importance in Julia's heart; only rivalled by his late mother and Oskar, she was the first person to listen to him when he was lost and without his sight. The importance of that person was akin to a second mother. She literally took him under her wing, taking care of him for a few years until he was ready to gain independence.
Now that Julia had a moment to really look at the stranger, her features were nearly identical to Gwynevere; and from what he could remember, this woman's soul bore a striking resemblance to Gwynevere as well. Julia could discern her features through the imprint of her soul. Every detail down to her vibrant red hair was the same, only that her hair had been tied up instead of flowing freely. He had not seen or spoken to Gwynevere in many years, as they parted long ago, so the possibility that this was actually her wasn't outrageous.
The void left from his mother's death made it hard to split from her; he was afraid of being left alone and abandoned again, yet he understood that it was a necessary part of growing up and achieving independence. She surely understood that too, with the day they parted being the day she acknowledged his ability to survive on his own—without her to guide him. He had a journey ahead of him, and she had unfinished business of her own too. He was more than thankful for all she had given him in his time of need. However, he had regrettably not heard anything of her since. No one had ever heard of the woman named 'Gwynevere'.
"Then you must Julia!" The stranger which he thought may have been, but couldn't quite accept to be Gwynevere exclaimed, somehow assuming an even more familiar tone—which he didn't think was possible beforehand. Knowing his name further reinforced that this was in fact her, but he simply couldn't accept it. This person could not be her. Gwynevere was a mature character, and she was a sincere role model that he looked up to. She was gentle and kind, but resolute and reliable when necessary. Not to mention, she's also…!
I should stop that there. Julia frowned.
He realised his bias was beginning to cloud his judgement, but her qualities were near-flawless. She was capable and wise. The one in front of him… her character didn't seem terrible, but she paled in comparison to the Gwynevere he knew. He just couldn't accept it was actually her.
"Who are you, and how do you know Gwynevere?" Julia asked. With his curiosity burning and his patience waning, he accidentally got to the point too fast—and did so in a manner that could come off as rude.
"I am Gwyndolin. Gwyn… dolin. Not evere. You may also call me aunty, if you prefer't!"
I would rather not use such a term to refer to someone I just met… Julia frowned again. Learning from the previous example, he didn't say this out loud. She seemed carefree, but it would be best not to offend her if possible; not until he gained more information.
He coughed, disregarding his own discomfort, and asked, "'Aunty'... Does that mean I'm correct in assuming you're a sister of Gwynevere?"
Gwynevere didn't speak much of her own blood relatives, or her private life at all for that matter. She often dodged the topic.
"Yes, you are correct. Although, I am her only sister—her only sibling, even," Gwyndolin explained. "She spoke much of you, Julia! She cared about you deeply even despite how quaint the time you shared was."
Hearing those words, Julia felt his heart soften and his guard lower. He rarely received insight into what Gwynevere thought of him… so being told this after so long and never knowing whether he would even learn what became of her was… incredibly endearing and precious. He struggled to find words to say back, but before he could, Gwyndolin continued.
She said with a complicated expression, "But I was sure you were female… Are you playing tricks on me, Julia? You didn't stuff something down there, did you?"
Julia smiled as he felt a vein starting to burst. Gwyndolin was seriously making him consider violence, but even if he felt slightly less worried about remaining polite now, he still decided it would be best to keep strong and hold himself back from doing anything rash. More importantly, there was something else lingering in his mind. Gwynevere apparently spoke of me to Gwyndolin, but she said nothing about the fact that I am born male. In fa~ct, Gwyndolin seems to have been told that I was a woman. Has Gwynevere believed me to be a girl all this time…?
That was a fact hard-learned.
As he was contemplating giving a piece of his mind, perhaps to include a word or two for Gwynevere to hear, Gwyndolin momentarily lost interest; she seemed distracted by something as her eyes wandered off to the left, nonchalantly turning her head in that direction. She had been fairly engrossed in the conversation so far… Seeing her become so distracted was mildly concerning.
Julia hurriedly followed her gaze. When she had turned, her smile was lost for the briefest moment, and finally, she truly resembled Gwynevere for the first time. There was a sense of wisdom and confidence that wasn't there before. He was sure now—that this was indeed her blood-related sibling.
"We've got company," Gwyndolin exclaimed. If someone was close enough to be seen with the naked eye, then Julia was confident that he should see them long before reaching that point; no one should triumph that ability of his. Nothing could hide from him—his ability was just that special. So he was shocked to find nothing in that direction—the forest grounds ahead of the two were completely empty.
Are there actually people…? Julia was beginning to doubt this after all. The reasons for pretending were as numerous as the sky, but how many were not maligned in intention? He wondered: am I being too paranoid? The recent events had him on edge, and he hadn't calmed completely. But his suspicions were proven wrong in the end. Soon enough, the aura of a person revealed itself; then more people showed, until a sizable group was slowly approaching.
I was wrong… Julia admitted, seeing the people approach. He felt somewhat bad about his misjudgement of character, but it made sense to be cautious around the intentions of strangers; especially when they claimed relation to friends and family. Then he realised his foolish mistake. Instead of guessing, he could have just read her intentions by looking at her soul, effectively extinguishing his doubts. He was unable to read minds, but he could easily tell apart the honest and dishonest. A bold-faced lie couldn't stand before him.
Emotions, hostility, and dishonesty are but a few of the states he can read with expertise. Julia thought he had mostly calmed himself, but failing to do something so obvious was proof he hadn't. He was still disoriented; unfortunately, he couldn't read his own state, in which these problems may lie.
The new entrants turned out to be humans, venturing into the forest for some unknown reason. Gwyndolin noticed them a lot earlier than Julia did; somehow, despite having normal eyes. He was curious how, but he had no way to know the method.
"We should leave before they get closer," Gwyndolin stated.
"Why? This is an opportunity, is it not?" Julia asked. Normally, I would be more cautious… but with what I've encountered so far, I'm ready to throw caution to the wind. Actually, I don't care whether they are hostile or friendly—as long as I get out, I'm happy!
Going with them would be an assured path out at least. In his judgement, it was the most sensible option. From what Julia could see as they moved throughout the trees, orderly and never breaking formation, they appeared to be an organised group. They were soldiers if luck was on their side; perhaps they heard the commotion, and now they're investigating the area.
"I understand your sentiments, lass, I really do. But trust me, you wouldn't want to."
"Lad, you mean."
"A mistake—forgive me."
A mistake, huh? Surely, she won't repeat it then? Julia made a mental note to rip her a new one were she to make the same mistake again.
"Mm. And why not, why don't we approach th—" as he tried to speak, Gwyndolin cut his words short.
"Get down," she said with a tone that didn't allow refusal. And then, Julia was grabbed and dragged down. Gwyndolin continued, "Listen—you'll understand why."
Not long after being ushered into silence, Julia heard the faint voices of a few men. They walked by, through the thickets and foliage, seemingly searching the area and looking for something or someone. Their conversation was about the locals from the village. The men mostly repeated tales of which they had been told, such as the dubious nature of this cultural ground known by the locals as a cursed land—which the soldiers took as baseless superstition.
By their amour and uniformity, Julia long concluded that they were indeed soldiers. They were equipped with sheathed swords and even what looked to be flintlock pistols, which the latter was a very uncommon sight for soldiers deployed out in the country. From the gist of their conversation, they were investigating the area after receiving many concerned reports about the strange commotion coming from the woods.
"It's a girl we're looking for, right?"
"That's what they said. 'Small' and 'short in stature', 'silver hair', 'feathery coat', and 'typically seen wearing a blindfold' is the description we were given."
"But a girl couldn't have done that, no? I mean, they were completely torn apart! Butchered! I say they were infighting. No human can do that kind of damage. As for the girl… she's probably dead. It would be some stroke of luck if she survived that carnage, and that was only the entrance to the forest. It'll probably get worse further in."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking… If she manages to survive somehow, then Evenkhell 'Herself' must be protecting her."
As their voices slowly faded into the distance, that was the last of their conversation Julia could make out.
"They're looking for a girl? They could be talking about either of us…" Gwyndolin finally broke the silence once she was sure no one else was around to hear us.
Julia sighed, "I hate to say it, but it's me they're looking for."
He couldn't rebuke her statement this time. They were looking for a girl, but that description could only be about him. They didn't go into extensive detail, but the silver hair alone was enough to convince Julia that their search was directed at him. There were few in this country that possessed any such pigmentation naturally at such a young age.
Julia was also very short. This trait, although not intrinsically linked to the female body, was often seen in conjunction with his face, hair length, and voice as identifying factors to label him as a girl. The coat and blindfold pair was the eventual nail on the coffin. He often traversed harsh climates, facing a ruthless and unforgiving sun followed by the chilling dead of night. It was his feathered coat that kept those tantalising solar rays at bay, whilst providing warmths when the temperature eventually dropped. Meanwhile, the blindfold hid his scar away from the sun and let people know he was blind.
Why are they searching for me…? Julia wondered. Perhaps they merely wished to ensure his safety and escort him out, but he felt that wasn't the reason. As the soldiers said, his chances of survival were slim; it was close to impossible, and there were other aspects of the conversation to pick apart. There was an odd focus on him in relation to seemingly unconnected matters.
The comment made, 'a girl couldn't have done that…', held an unsettling insinuation. They appeared to be looking for the culprit of the massacres, which Oskar was responsible for, and one of their superiors must have labeled 'the girl' to be a potential suspect; it was no surprise that the soldiers were doubtful.
It was far more reasonable to assume infighting, and his prior experience with the rabid aberrant corpses confirmed something like that probably did happen at some point, but Julia knew that the evil spirits weren't the only other variable involved. They figured that out too, but weren't aware of the real culprit unlike him.
"They think it was me…" Julia voiced his thoughts outwardly. By this point, the two of them had left and were headed someplace away from the soldiers. His interest in meeting them had depleted considerably and Gwyndolin didn't seem particularly interested in meeting them either.
"What do they think was you?" Without context, Gwyndolin naturally hadn't a clue what he was talking about.
Does she even know what's going on…? Julia frowned, but answered anyway, "They're looking for the one who killed those aberrants, that's the contents of their search."
Gwyndolin laughed, "Well, that's just silly~! They think you did that? No, it was infighting. They fought amongst each other—saw it with m'own eyes." 'Even that rank-and-file soldier could tell how it happened', she concluded. Her point was sensible, but flawed.
"It wasn't the ordinary sort of infighting you've seen before, it was possessed corpses."
"Yep—knew that already. Just 'cause the dreads change the motive, doesn't change the fact that it was still infighting."
"Dreads?" Julia questioned.
"Those little rat bastards that were chasing you. Not the aberrants themselves, but the flesh-eating vermin… possessing, decaying, and corroding what's left of them—every bit of their remains. Right down to a pile of bloody mush," Gwyndolin explained, her face contorting and composure waning near the end of her sentence.
This day had marked Julia's first interaction with their kind; those charnel, maligned spirits were far more dangerous and terror-inducing than anything he had encountered before; their origin was no doubt the greatest bowels of hell and the sins of their past lives must be unimaginable. It was a visceral and instinctual feeling that welled up inside him when he recalled their presence—a deep disgust directed at their very existence, a feeling of pure and unbridled rejection, which Gwyndolin's colourful choice of words and harsh tone summed up perfectly. Julia finally received a name for them: 'dreads'.
"Although the dreads were involved, there was another party." 'The spark to light this fire', Julia added. "For the possessions to happen, there must be flesh to possess first. And it can't have a soul in it already."
A mortal consists of two parts: the soul and the flesh. Those parts live in perfect harmony, completing each other—a soul needs its body and a body needs its soul. So when those two are conjoined, there is no space left for anything else. A spirit could possess the flesh; but for a spirit to intrude, the soul must go first; and the soul only goes when the mortal dies.
Even so, this could only happen where spirits and mortals are able to interact. An inseparable boundary exists between the two and this cannot be broken. However, there are exceptions; little loopholes and ways the membrane can thin ever so slightly exist, so that the smallest overlap can take place. Julia is such an example.
The villagers whose lust for vengeance could not allow them to pass on peacefully; they are a breach of this iron-clad rule. When there is a connection to the material world so strong that it is binding, only then can there be an overlap.
From what the locals told the soldiers, this forest was a site of spiritual importance. It was a 'cursed land'. On this domain, an overlap must have occurred; and any flesh that falls on it is free to be possessed, corroded, and consumed in its entirety by the dreads. Julia did not know why they were here. He didn't know what bound them to this land. And he didn't wish to know. After piecing everything together, he realised the gravity of how foolish it was for anyone to step on this land. The locals' superstitions and the concealment of this site was understandable.
"Hm, is that so…?" Gwyndolin squinted her eyes, giving his words serious thought for a moment before continuing. "I've studied all sorts of spirits, I really have. I know more names for spirits than I do people. But it ain't possible to meet one, not while you're alive at least. You speak as if you have… first-hand experience. I think Gwynevere hasn't told me the whole story when it comes to you."
Julia coughed, hoping Gwyndolin would pick up the very obvious signal that the conversation was departing from where it should be. He changed the subject towards what he most wanted to discuss, or who he most wanted to discuss for that matter. "Before I was attacked by the aberrants, they'd already been deceased a little while prior. The wounds they suffered and ultimately fell to—someone on the soldiers' side must've been skilled enough to realise someone else had caused them. They suspect I'm the one who did them in first and they seem keen on getting me; but I know the one they're really looking for. He's the very reason I'm here."
It was because of him that the dreads were given the means to interact with the world. All of this only happened now for that reason—it wasn't coincidence. A darkness followed him and with it he left a trail of death and suffering. His soul had blackened with a thick miasma; it made Julia want to reach him sooner before it got any more dense, but he was afraid of what Oskar may have become.
The years had slowly loosened the grip this heinous snake had on Julia; but as conflicting feelings grew, the guilt only seemed to wrap around him with newfound vigour. His resolution wavered with every second that passed. When he thought about finally meeting him, the day he had dreamed about on many sleepless nights, he grew more and more uncertain that he could triumph their relentless lust for vengeance which had never once wavered. But regardless of how it may end, the one thing he was sure of was that he would see it through.