Chapter Text
🙜 CHAPTER ONE 🙟
To Breath Out a Soul
The edelwood twisted around Greg. The wailing cold wind bit into Wirt’s nose and cheeks, vicious snowflakes frozen into the corners of his eyes, but the clearing that held Greg in the center of its palm was strangely still, like a distorted soap bubble. Branches the lurid auburn of a carcass consumed Greg’s small form, the little boy was propped up limply by the fast-growing cage. Wirt cried out and ran toward his little brother, this was all his fault, he had been a horrible brother. He tore at the smooth new growth. Greg’s eyes opened limply, dark circles the same color as shadows on snow stained his skin.
“Wirt? Wirt, I did it, I beat the Beast.” Greg coughed, hacking up brittle edelwood leaves.
“Oh gosh, it’s even growing inside him,” Beatrice said, alighting on a branch next to Greg’s face.
“No,” Greg said miserably. “I was just eating leaves.”
Wirt choked out a laugh, it’s so horrible he wants to cry. “Come on, we’ve got to get Jason Funderberker home, right?”
The frog croaked.
“Jason Funderberker-- the perfect...frog name.” Greg closed his eyes with a sigh.
Wirt stared at him, waiting to see any new sign of life. “Greg?”
Beatrice nudged him. “Let’s get him out of this.”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes for a moment, he needed to be Greg’s big brother now. “I’ll get you out, Greg.” He pulled at the branches, bracing his foot against the horrible tomb, the tree does not let go. There was a familiar lantern at his feet, knocked sideways in the trampled snow, even in his panic, he recognized it as the one the Woodcutter was so obsessed with. He picked it up with some vague thought of burning the branches away from Greg. That's when the Beast came back.
Twin spotlights bent over them hungrily. The Beast’s impenetrable cloak of shadow licked around the clearing, a deep baritone growled around him. “Give me my lantern.”
“ Your lantern?”
Beatrice piped up glaring at the Beast. “No way, we need this thing.”
“Yeah,” Wirt stuttered, “yeah, I’m keeping this. I have to get Greg home.” He shrank back then turned yanking on the branches.
“Your brother is too weak to go home. He will soon become part of my forest.”
Wirt spun, the lantern blazing, he bit out. “I won't let that happen!”
“Well, then, perhaps we better make a deal.”
“Deal?”
The Woodsman groaned.
The Beast's eyes were intense blazing globes, they never left his face, two holes in the pitch dark. “I can put his spirit in the lantern. as long as the flame stays lit, he will live on inside. Take on the task of lantern bearer… or watch your brother perish.” His shadowy hands beckoned gently. “Come here.”
Wirt imagined going home, what would his mom say when he told her he left Greg as a tree? There would be dead despair in her eyes, a collapse, the sort of wrenching sorrow he had never wanted to see her go through again-- But it would be worse this time because Greg was her perfect, happy son, far from the distant husband she had probably known was leaving for a long time. And it was all his fault. Disgust constricted his throat, he couldn’t imagine it. He couldn’t face this, He grasped desperately for any other choices, but he’d already given up on hope. That’s what had started this, he thought bitterly, wishing the edelwood would turn on him, choke him with its roots and let him dissolve into nothingness. It’s what he deserved. But not Greg. Greg deserved to see home again. This was his only bargaining chip, his only remaining choice, his one hope.
He sighed. “Okay.” It tasted more like despair on his tongue.
Beatrice gasped, “Wirt!”
He stepped toward the Beast holding the lantern out. The shadowy fingers drew closer, pressure like the whining of a stormfront or the hunger of a predator crushed Wirt’s ears. Behind the Beast, the Woodsman was weeping, weakly calling for his daughter. Wirt recoiled, holding the lantern back. “Wait. That’s dumb.”
“What?” The Beast growled.
“That's dumb. I'm not gonna just wander around in the woods for the rest of my life.”
“I'm trying to help you.” There was a warning there, a father’s warning to a stupid little boy.
“You're not trying to help me. you just have some weird obsession with keeping this lantern lit... It's almost like your soul is in this lantern.”
The Beast’s eyes glowed like a radioactive sunrise. Pale red, yellows, and blue. They shuddered through the air in barely contained rage. The forest vibrated with them, cutting violently through the velvet darkness. The Beast’s shadows consumed the entire world, and Wirt was alone.
The voice deepened into an unnatural growl. “Ȃ̸̰ȑ̶̻ẽ̴̳ ̴̟̍y̶̭̿ő̵̯u̷̠̓ ̸̝̊r̴̼̓e̵̯͐a̴̠̔d̵̥͘y̸̹̑ ̴̹̏ṯ̸͗o̸̚͜ ̵͚̍s̷̮͝e̴̫͘ḙ̷̆ ̵͍͠ẗ̴̞́r̷̛̘u̵͔ę̴͛ ̴̤͝d̸̘͑a̵̘͂r̵̭̾k̴̻̈́n̸͔͊e̷̒͜s̷̯͝s̵̖̏?
Wirt’s voice cracked, he cleared his throat, opening the lantern’s glass window. “Are you?” He filled his cheeks with air and put his mouth next to the flame. It glimmered eerily, pulsing like a dancing thread, guttering as he began to blow it out.
“Don’t!” The Beast cried, the blackness receded back like it had been burned.
Wirt scoffed. He turned from the Beast.
The Woodsman still knelt in the snow, staring uncomprehending at the proceedings. Wirt handed him the lantern, picking up the axe instead. Its sharp edge glided over the frozen snow. “Here, Woodsman, I've got my own problems to take care of. this one's yours.” He sighed. “My brother and I are going home.”
The Woodsman’s voice was heartbroken. “She was never in the lantern, was she, Beast?
“Listen, Woodsman. listen to me.”
The edelwood parted at the blade of the axe like butter, the wood curling up away from Greg’s skin, barely leaving a tear of entrenching black oil. Wirt dropped the axe, kneeling to check the weak pulse in Greg’s neck. It was still there, beating slowly but faithfully. Wirt let out a long sigh that caught in his throat and came out as a sob.
“Let’s go home, Greg.”
“You see, Woodsman? All who perish here will become trees for the lantern. Cut them down with your axe. Go! Now!”
“No!” The lantern blazed through the Beast’s horrible shadow.
“Stop!” The Beast’s voice softened back into a croon. “You'll never see your daughter again, Woodsman. Are you really ready to go back to that empty house?”
The Woodsman slumped forward, staring into the lantern’s dancing flame. “No.”
Edelwood branches shot from the earth, tangling in the Woodsman’s legs. He let out a strangled cry, the lantern flew out of his hands. As soon as it left his fingers darkness fell. Someone screamed. The only thing Wirt could see was the hole in the world that was the lantern. Somewhere in the void, the Beast was laughing. Wirt scrambled for the light, someone else bumped into him, but he slipped past them, as much a shadow as the Beast. People were panting. There was ringing in his ears. He stretched out his hand-- and then the lantern rose from the ground, casting out spears of light that did nothing to illuminate the darkness. Two blazing white orbs stared down on him.
The Beast said, “You and your brother will never return home.” Pressure roared down on him, pushing him into the freezing snow. “You had pluck, boy, but you’ve never seen a beast without his muzzle.”
“Wirt?” It was Greg, his voice was weak, pathetically small. The Beast’s head twisted to stare in his direction. The pressure shifted to hunger. Wirt forced himself to his knees, then launched himself to hang onto the Beast’s arm. The stained-glass eyes turned on him with fury. Black clawed hands grabbed his wrist. The glass door was still open. He blew it out.
Wirt swam up through the freezing cold water. He opened his mouth at the shock of the temperature. Pearlescent silvery bubbles flew up through the murky water toward the surface. He had never been an olympic swimmer, but Greg was light and still, and the enveloping tide pushed them toward the shore, he just had to keep his head and they would be fine. He pushed through waterlogged roots and broke the surface with a splutter. He tried to hold Greg higher on his back but his muscles burned like a guttering candle. He waded past the cattails and tangled water lilies. There were flashlights, cutting urgently through the night on the grassy bank.
“H--Help.” Wirt croaked out, then he tripped and splashed down into the mud.
Someone gasped, and distantly he heard Sara’s voice call his name. With a sigh, he lost consciousness.