Journal #8 - Sister

We set out from the spider’s lair after a short rest to regroup with Domino. We took a long winding path, all the way to the other side of the mountain range. As we departed what seemed to be an area of Coven control, nature returned to normal. Trees bloomed once more, and we realized we hadn’t seen or heard signs of life for some time. Plants bud, birds sing, the stomach of the Applewood faded away.
 
A natural spring fed a large stream running down the side of the mountain, which eventually crossed our path. It was a mere six inches deep, but ice cold. When we passed over it, the environment changed. The air grew chill, from the normal temperature of a calm fall day in the sun, to a brisk evening on the verge of winter. In the distance, a blare like a horn sounded. There was a prismatic creature gliding while it shimmered in all hues, it seemed like some sort of magically flying lizard, what I could only describe as a cloud serpent.
 
Off the side of the cliff, there once stood an old bastion, now crumbled to rubble off the side of the mountain from times unknown. All that remain are statues which we’ve come across over time. Here, there are two angels of death guarding the entrance into a forest, holding scythes in one hand, and in the other one held a lantern, and the other an hourglass representing the guide after death, and the time until you are forgotten. As we pass them, it grows yet colder, it seems as though it should snow.
 
We look out onto a dark forest, denser than the Applewood, with trees smaller but close together. It is colder yet again, to the point of freezing. Some trees hold lanterns in their boughs. Our mettle was tested, as though one foot was already in the grave. We pressed on.
 
Beings watched us from the dark, and lanterns light themselves when we are near. A screech assaulted my senses, barely holding my composure. I heard thunderous charging horses and soldiers in battle, ghosts reliving an ancient war, and a horn sounds. Mist enveloped us, and we strayed from the path. Then it dispersed, and towered above us on the edges.
 
We spotted one of the abominations which attacked us on the trail days before, there seemed to be several watching us, one in our path which didn’t react to us as long as we were within the light of the lantern affixed to the tree we were under. Attempts at distraction failed, and ultimately we sprinted from lantern to lantern, while Red and Amber made a distraction running to the lanterns we had come from before.
 
Finally we emerged into a sea of dead trees, where rocks were strewn about and there was a stone rise in the center, where a staircase led up, up, a hundred feet through the canopy of trees and into another clearing. Ruined and overgrown foundations were scattered about, and the very ground was resonant.
 
The black stone we had searched for was here, marking the tomb of a secret twin sister of Domino’s. Conceived in evil, magic had cleaned Domino, at the expense of her sister who laid in isolation with the darkness which had pervaded them both. For twenty years, she had only sporadic contact with Alastar, in the form of a white owl, and no other. Rage filled her, and rightfully so. Equally dangerous and stunted from her life of solitude, she had wrested control of her guardians, though she remained restrained behind a magical barrier. Domino was capable of passing in and out, and spoke to her sister at length, though eventually the guardians awoke - animated trees which battled us. We were hard pressed, but ultimately, Domino attempted reason once more, and mercy. She put her sister to slip firstly, and crushed the dark stone we had been sent to retrieve. Doing so, the magic of the Coven was broken. Her sister was freed, and all Coven-sisters were reduced to a natural span of years; those living beyond those years died immediately, we came to learn later. Their touch on the Applewood was lifted, including the blood-magic taint on my soul.
 
When this occurred, the last two guardians - viper vines - were petrified where they stood. Domino’s grandmother looked on in approval, as the entire forest turned to stone as well. Domino’s sister was hesitant to trust her upon waking, but was eventually guided out of the bounds of the now-powerless prison. Her name was Tanabraya, or Braya for short. A character in a song that Alastar had sung to her long ago, a princess stuck in a tower. She is no longer angry or sick, but new and adolescent; innocent. She had much to experience on our long journey out of the mountains.
 
As we passed, we saw every apple tree had turned to stone, but the natural trees were fine. The coven mothers were turned to stone and dust, and new trees thrived over the horrible eldritch hex. Tanis bid his farewell, and we reunited with those who had made a distraction for us at our cart. Finally, I could breathe free once more.