big special thanks to @Kagehide for writing the dream sequence <3
READ ONLY
* also, CW for suicidal thoughts/talk of death/uncomfortable subjects
It hadn’t taken him long to make his way back up from the falls to the base of the mountain, but as he drew closer he could feel his eyelids growing weaker and his steps becoming slower. It would be foolish of him to attempt the ascent while half-asleep, and while Cyril did not care whether he lived or died anymore he knew he couldn’t disappear on his mother. Not now. Not after she had found a home for them; a haven. A place for them to recuperate and recover.
But would they ever recover? Piety, maybe. She was surrounded by friends and family. She was doing fine. But Cyril? He didn’t know. Some days were better than others, but there was still a dark storm cloud following him around. A painful reminder that he had been the cause of his father’s death. If only he had moved over, even just an inch!, perhaps he could have diverted the stag’s path. Prevented it from happening. Something! But instead he had froze, like a pathetic little rabbit, and watched the creature stampede toward him. His father had only done what a father would do—he’d thrown himself in the line of fire to protect his son. Sacrificed his own life … and for what? A moody, depressed boy who wanted nothing more than to toss himself off the monadnock he had spent months living atop?
He gave a groggy shake of his head, a frown cutting deep into his dark features as he slumped against the ground. He despised being so self-loathing but he didn’t know what else to do… he couldn’t help but blame himself… and he often wondered if his mother blamed him, too. She had every right to.
Slowly he felt himself get pulled under by the soft hands of sleep, his body curled tight against the trunk of a tree as he allowed the darkness to take over…
The snowy forest gave way as he soared over the land like a falcon, his goal driving him ever faster to a place he saw too often in his dreams. No, no, no! He didn’t want to see it again! He saw it enough times.
But the falcon with which he flew didn’t pause at the southern border of Monadnock territory. It flew on, heading just to the west to a place not easily forgotten. Antlers were arranged in a ring and he landed just outside of it. Why here?
Why not? Wraith asked, his smile kind as he looked on at his son. The male looked as healthy as he had been before that day, with not a hint of death upon him. Around him, the air felt warm and comforting rather than cold and dreary as a ghost might feel. The Monadnock’s former leader looked around at the Antler Ring with fondness. Is this not a place with good memories? A place for teaching? When Cyril didn’t respond, his father continued with a gentle smile. You had so many questions. I didn’t know the answers, then. I could only guess. Even now, I can only guess at why this place exists. But I can set the question back to you. Why not? Why not this place over all others. You felt its power that day, did you not? It was a mystery, but that it is here should not be.
I killed you, Cyril muttered miserably, his lips already quivering beyond his control. Every emotion he’d struggled to hold back in the past few months threatened to spill over. It was all his fault! That would never change. Never.
Cyril. Wraith’s voice was stern, as it had been any time his son misbehaved or did something worthy of disapproval. You did not kill me. A stag did. If you must hate anything, hate all stags for all I care. But you must not hate yourself.
But his father didn’t understand! He was supposed to say that! He was his father! It’s my fault—
Wraith continued, speaking over the boy as if he hadn’t spoken at all in such a broken tone.: And here is why. Because if you hate yourself, you doubt in my love for you. In your mother’s love for you. If you hate yourself, you hate everything that I love. So LOVE yourself, Cyril. As I loved you. As your mother loves you. Love yourself and you’ll keep me alive forever in your heart. I’m with you, son.
Unable to stop himself despite the fear that he would disappear as soon as he stepped into the ring, Cyril bounded over the antlers to draw closer to his father. As if understanding his fears, the proud leader closed the distance between them and embraced his boy, slinging his great head over his boy’s back and pulling him close. You’ve grown, the brute remarked, his voice nearly betraying the tears he felt wanting to come. But he dared not shed a single one. Dared not lose sight of his son for the time they had. He could feel the power that brought him here tugging at him, drawing him back home.Cyril, do you remember what you are?
He blinked, his brows tight as he met his father’s gaze: What I am?
Ah, time was shorter than he thought. A knight is sworn to valor, he rumbled, inhaling his son’s scent deeply. His heart knows only virtue. His blade defends the helpless. Another ruthless tug back on his soul. His might upholds the weak. His word speaks only truth, Wraith said, his words growing in intensity as he rushed. His wrath undoes the wicked. It was almost painful now to resist.
Undo the wickedness in your heart that allows yourself to shoulder the blame, Cyril. I love you, son.
Unkindly, the dream was ripped from under Cyril’s paws and he was left floundering until he jarred awake, once more in the forest far from his homeland. His chest heaved as he glanced around, his paws trembling—his fur burning from where it had mingled with Wraith’s—as he searched for familiarity in his surroundings. But there was none. He could still feel the warmth of his father but he was gone—ripped away from his once more. But his words echoed in the back of his mind, luring the boy away from his treacherous thoughts. How… how was he supposed to love himself? He blinked, his ears sweeping back against his skull. He’d have to figure it out. Cyril couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing his father.