Blood and Bark and howling Ghosts

After fleeing his mum, Edmund made his way to the Feverlands. Was he procrastinating on sending that letter and meeting with her? Yes. But the young Ancient also wanted to continue his quest for Mother. The other materials were closer to Torchline anyway. The Hanging Tree was the only place that he had to visit that was out of the way. He figured he could stop there before heading back and dealing with the consequences of his choices. Finding the tree, Edmund paused and simply stared. In his hands he had a jar that would hold both the bark and blood from the tree, but where did he start? Nibbling on his lower lip nervously, the young Ancient took out a knife and began to carefully carve and pry off pieces of bark. His eyes widened as the blood began to pour without further prompting. "Oh!" With his other hand, Edmund placed the jar to catch the blood as he worked. Focusing on his task. the Ancient paid little mind to his surroundings. He knew he should, but juggling the jar, the knife, and the flowing blood was taking all of his effort. Edmund the prince of torchline

Trinket had heard about the howling tree. It seemed interesting. There were a lot of scary stories about it. Well, stories that people claimed were scary. Nothing scared the tiny demigod. She didn't care to be scared. Being scared was for other people.

She knew the way through the Feverlands, as she knew the maps of all parts of Caido. But traveling there would be hard. So she had wandered around the skyport at King's End until she overheard people talking about an expedition. She hadn't paid much attention to the specifics, something about collecting boring rare plants for alchemy. What they were doing there didn't much matter to Trinket. She simply followed along as they headed towards the swamps.

Her footsteps were silent as they departed the skyport. The travelers' attention was on the path ahead. They discussed their journey, the path they would take, the supplies they had brought. None of them bothered looking backwards, not for a good long while. They were well away from the skyport by the time anyone noticed that Trinket had been following them.

When they noticed her, the travelers became concerned, as people always did. Boring. They asked if she was lost. If she needed help. How she had gotten there.

"I'm following you," was all she said, as if that were answer enough.

They told her to go back home, continuing on their way. Trinket continued to follow them. They urged her to turn back, but they could do nothing. It wasn't as if they could force her to turn back the other way. And the demigod was committed to her journey.

By the time night fell, the group realized they had little choice but to invite the child to sit by their campfire. To do otherwise would have been cruel, leaving a small child alone in the wilderness. They offered her food and asked her more questions. They wanted to know, as many did, where her parents were. She told them she had no parents, and that she wasn't lost. She simply wanted to follow them.

The questions continued, but for some reason, her answers didn't satisfy the group. The further along they traveled, day by day, the more they tried to get her to leave. But once they were deep into the wilderness, the group agreed that they could no longer leave her behind. They spoke of predators in the wild, and the dangers they presented. So they reluctantly agreed to keep the child close. They simply saw no other choice.

Once they were close to the Hanging Tree, Trinket wandered off from the group. She had grown bored of them and their questions over the last few days. She headed out on her own once more, her footsteps silent, making not a sound. By the time anyone from the expedition realized she was gone, it was too late.

Eventually, her steps led her at last to her destination. The tree was interesting. Most trees were boring, but this one looked like no other tree she had ever seen. She had known of the tree, as she knew of all things in Caido. But knowing was not the same as seeing it for herself. She knew of the stories of people hanging from the tree to their deaths. She was disappointed to see that no one was hanging from the tree today.

Pity.

But something else curious was there. A boy with a jar. He made the tree bleed. Trinket had never seen a tree bleed before.

She moved closer, her steps deathly silent. She held her doll against her chest, standing behind the boy, both girl and doll watching with matching black eyes.

She stood in silence for a long while. Then, breaking the silence, she asked, "What are you going to do with the tree blood?"

Edmund jumped out of his skin, just barely managing to prevent any of the blood and bark from spilling. His head turned sharply in the direction of the sudden voice with wide eyes. In the process, one of his horns knocked into the bark and cut another hole in the tree. Glancing down and spotting the child had his face twisting into one of confusion. "Um.. hi?" Incredibly confused but seeing no threat in a small child, Edmund finally processed the question. "I'm colleting it for my Mother." He spoke the words with pride, his tail curling happily. "I'm collecting blood from all over Caido. But what are you doing out here?" The child appeared to be alone and her whole demeanor set him on edge. Was she lost? A chill went down his spine. What if she was the spirit of one of the people who had died on the tree? Edmund the prince of torchline

"I came to see the tree," Trinket said simply. "Why are you collecting blood? You can have some of my blood, if you want."

She walked over to the tree, looking up at the blood spilling from it. Curious. She studied the blood, watching it dribble down the bark. Her doll twisted its head to the side, staring at the boy with black, glassy eyes, one eye bearing a faint red stain of old, dried blood that tinged the eye red.

Trinket reached up. She touched her fingers to the blood. She looked at her bloodstained fingers, rubbing them together. Then, absentmindedly, she brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, the motion leaving a streak of blood over an old scar above her right eye.

She turned back towards the boy, now bloodstained as the doll was, staring at him. He seemed familiar, somehow. Curious.

She stared deeply into his eyes, waiting. The doll stared as well, judging. Both in silence. Both unblinking. Both still as the grave.

"I'm making something for me and my fellow Ancients to use. It needs blood to work." Edmund explained vaguely, unsure if a child, even a creepy one, should know just what his plans were. And by his Mother was she weird! Offering her blood? Well at least that meant she likely wasn't a ghost.  The Ancient shook his head, "My Mother didn't ask me to get the blood of a normal person." Because how was he supposed to know she was a demigod? Edmund tried not to squirm at Trinket's display and busied himself with sealing the now full jar and putting it carefully in his bag. Once he was done, he turned back to the demigod with a pinched expression, "Um...why did you put blood on your face?" He wanted to ask about the scar, but he had more tact than that. That came from his mum. It was as the demigod was staring at him that it finally clicked. So focused on his task, he hadn't even considered what was poking deep in his mind. This was the girl from the beach! With the crabs! Edmund just barely managed not to out himself, simply letting out a "Huh." Edmund the prince of torchline

"Oh, you're an Ancient," Trinket said, a slight tinge of curiosity in her tone. She hadn't met any ancients before, at least, as far as she knew. The Ancients were curious. They were new, but also old. The god they worshiped was different from the others. Curious indeed.

"What are you making with blood?" she asked. She didn't know of any things that could be made with blood, and since she knew of all things, it had to be something new. New was always interesting. "You can have some of my blood anyway. I'm not a normal person, I'm a demigod. So I've probably got good blood."

She held out her arm and rolled up her sleeve to expose her forearm. "Go ahead. I don't mind if it hurts. Just don't kill me, okay?" If he tried to kill her, she had an axe to use to split open his skull.

Edmund shivered slightly as a gust of wind went by, pulling his coat in closer. The Ancient wasn't a fan of the colder weather, now more so than ever. Still, he cautiously answered Trinket, "I am. I'm making a bloodbath for Ancients to use." He paused, trying to find the words, "Kind of like a magical hot spring?" He left out the piece about it reversing stasis, unsure of sharing such a thing with a stranger regardless of her age. The Ancient froze as Trinket repeated her offer. A demigod? Mother probably would like such a thing as an offering. But he didn't want to hurt a child. Thinking for a moment, Edmund pulled out a tiny vial. "Ok. Just a little though since it's not required for my task." Taking the vial and a small knife, Edmund gently took Trinket's hand. Shallowly pricking her finger with just the tip of the knife, he let it drip blood into the vial as he spoke, "Thanks. We can just let it drip for a few moments. That'll be enough.  Who are you a demigod of by the way?" He was partially trying to make conversation but also, he figured he should know just what kind of blood he was offering his Mother. Edmund the prince of torchline

Trinket showed no sign of pain as the boy pricked her finger. She merely watched the process. The blood dripping from her finger was only small droplets. She had seen more blood before. It had been more interesting last time.

When the boy was done with her finger, Trinket let her hand drop to her side, paying the still oozing prick no mind. She found the boy's words more curious than the blood.

"I've never bathed in blood before," she said. "Why would you want to bathe in blood? What does it feel like?" She looked at bathing the way she did food. It was just something she did quickly and efficiently, so that she could more on to more interesting things. But the idea of bathing in blood was something new.

"Ludo made me," she told him. "He made me to make everything more interesting for people. I play lots of games with people so they have interesting days. I like games. Do you want to play a game?"

Edmund considered his words before simply shrugging, "It's an Ancient thing. Bathing in fire or blood is good for us." Good for stasis, and maybe good for bloodlust? The young Ancient wouldn't put it past some of his brethren to simply drink the pool. Just because. Giving another shrug at Trinket's second question, the teen added, "I've never done it before." Sucking in a breath, Edmund processed her words. Ludo's demigod. Like Uncle Remi? Maybe his Mother really would like Trinket's blood as an offering. He'd make sure to bring it with him when he next visited her. Trinket's purpose was another thing entirely. Rather unnerving given what Edmund had heard about Ludo and the deity's love of tricks and chaos. Still, he nodded, "A game? What kind?" Edmund the prince of torchline

Trinket looked around, her unblinking eyes taking in the details of the tree and the surrounding swamp. Old ropes hung from the tree, the remains of executions once performed long past. Slime and mold coated the ropes, along with the tree itself. The tree was said to be haunted. Curious.

The doll watched Edmund as Trinket looked around. It stared endlessly, one eye stained red with old, dried blood. The light filtering through the ragged trees above caused a glint in the doll's glass eyes.

"The game is called 'hangman,'" Trinket said, eyeing the ropes above her. We ask each other questions, and whoever gets the most questions wrong loses."

With that, she gave a command to the ropes above her. They began writhing and whipping about, uncoiling part of their length from the branches so the ropes could lower themselves down towards the two people below. The ropes twisted themselves and knotted themselves, until a pair of nooses hung there before them.

"I'll go first," Trinket said, her voice dead and void of any emotion. "What color feathers does an Aqueix have?"

Edmund rears back with a hiss when Trinket describes the game. "Absolutely not!" Horrified and deeply disturbed, the Ancient takes a step back. Seeing an exit point, he shifts as fast as he dares, wincing slightly as he pushes his ability to it's limit. He's not sticking around for this. No way. The molten tiger leaps down from beside the tree and takes off before Trinket can react. How can anyone, especially a child, make light of such a thing? She'd probably kill them both just for the fun of it. This wasn't even bloodlust. This was insanity. And Edmund wanted nothing to do with it. -{FIN} Edmund the prince of torchline