Mother Night draped her blanket of darkness over the Basin of Life and the
mysterious scent of solitude fell with it. Loud chimes rang out across the Sea
of Despair as the Bell Tower in Magnagora performed its annual duties. Fervent
whispers of prayers to Mother Moon could be heard underneath the branches of
Serenwilde’s canopy. Candles were lit around the shrines of the Supernals
above the Pool of Stars. And Glomdoring came alive.

“Useless creature! Use this to find the shadows of Crow’s children and take
them to the Drums of the Dead that we might be protected from our enemies! If
you are lucky enough to receive a gift from a child of Crow, place it within the
Ravenwood!”

I glared at the useless Fledgling bowing before him, and he almost regretted
giving away his last shadowcatcher web. So many others - experienced and full of
wisdom - had received my gift with eagerness, but not this Fledgling.

“Stop your groveling and gather the shadows!”

The young Fledgling quickly rose to his feet and executed several stuttered
bows before running off into the nearby gloom. In his haste a handful of herbs
and vials had fallen out of his robes and now lied forgotten on the moist forest
floor.

Beneath a furrowed brow, an irritated darkness crept over my eyes.

-=-

My earthen paths twist and turn while the light above vainly attempts to pierce
the concealing layer of leaves. I give shelter to those who crave for safety and
shun those who speak ill on my behalf. Nothing transpires within my boundaries
without my knowing. Every raindrop that caresses my being nourishes me. Not one
can enter my domain unnoticed. There is no room for the weak. Such is my
existence.

Tonight something is amiss. I can feel it. My branches curl with the rank
stench of fear and apprehension. It sickens me. But that is not all. From within
this aura of trepidation there is an overwhelming sense of potential. Yes, I
feel it. The wind grazes my numerous trunks and my countless leaves shake with
pleasure. Even the spiders hesitate for a moment upon their gossamer strands.
There is something special about this one. I must find him.

The Gloriana is calm; nothing disturbs her glassy surface. I shift my gaze
towards the hives but only the wasps occupy that territory. The usual mustiness
presides in the network of caverns below me. The hallmark of my being, the grand
Ravenwood, towers above the rest of me but there is still no sign of the young
child. My branches droop in dismay.

There is a sharp tug on my roots and I hear a soft yelp of pain. Anxiously I
zero in on the source. It is a small Fledgling who has apparently tripped over
me. His shaking hands are holding a shadowcatcher web. I can’t help but shake
uncontrollably in a bout of anger. There is no strength here! No confidence! No
future! I have wasted my time.

The Fledgling cowers as he stares at the sudden shaking of the branches above
him.
-=-

I blend easily into the surrounding darkness. During the night I am almost
impossible to be seen by anything but a discerning eye. The choice lies with me
- whether I wish to exist or remain absent from the world. For I am a part of
something greater than myself, and that alone gives me power. Separated from the
crow that birthed me, I fly alongside breeze and rest among others of my kind.

A figure nears. I cannot see him, but the overwhelming sound of twigs cracking
reaches me before he does. Concealed by the roiling gloom, I am not nervous
about him noticing my visage. Brief bursts of a soft light emit from the
figure’s hands. Clearly he is not well-trained in the entrancing ways of
magic.

Suddenly he looks up and I catch a glimpse of his face. The small smudges of
paint on his face allow me to discern that he is a Fledgling in the Blacktalon -
a follower of Brother Crow. I sized him up, trying to decide if this young child
had the heart of my Father. From what I could see, he did not hold similar
attributes to Crow that would allow him to be a successful devotee. It would
bring me pleasure, on this dark night, to thwart his pathetic attempts at
capturing me. I existed to serve the Glomdoring, but only its strongest
components.

As if acknowledging my challenge, the Fledgling sees me, ironically, blending
in with the shadows. Lacking caution of any kind, he charges at me while holding
the web far out in front of him. If I could have laughed, I would have. I
joyfully led the Fledgling on a wild chase through the Forest. But I was always
just out of his longing reach.

Without warning a black widow spider descended from the branches overhead and
sprayed thick strands of webbing onto the Fledgling’s body. He screamed and
tried to escape from his bonds, but he was wrapped too tightly. The widow
flashed its eyes in my direction before pulling her prize into the treetops.

I almost felt sorry for the child.

-=-

Listen closely and you can hear it - the fresh, delicious crimson rivers
flowing through his veins. I click my pincers together with anticipation. Not
much muscle either. Just soft, palpable flesh.

A squirrel watched me from a nearby branch as I wound my gossamer webbing
around the child’s body. He squirmed. I stabbed him with my abdomen. He
shuddered and lay still. The squirrel scampered off.

I was grateful for this gift and I didn’t intend to waste it. A mixture of
saliva and venom dripped from my mouth. As I was about to begin my feast, I
noticed that the toes of the child were twitching. Soon his entire body has
writhing violently. I was becoming irritated. I tried stabbing him again, but
the cocoon of gossamer rolled to the side, dodging my attack. I did not like
this.

My webbing disintegrated instantly as it erupted in flames. The Fledgling rose
to his feet and glared at me. His fists were clenched, one of them clasping a
small talisman. With a fluid motion he pointed it at me and pain coursed through
my body. Each of my eight legs twitched in an uncontrollable spasm. I wanted it
to end. And it did.

-=-

For some reason I kept thinking about that Fledgling. He was just a helpless
child but now, thanks to the widow, he was probably dead. It’s not like I
could have prevented it; the weak inevitably die.

There was an absence of branches in the canopy and the stars twinkled
innocently above me. But dawn was approaching.

I hovered around in my shadowy state, thinking about my Father and my Brothers.
What a privilege it would be to be caught by a strong individual to serve the
Glomdoring. Those stepping out of the Portal weren’t of the same caliber as
others before them. It was depressing.

Suddenly the night got darker. How could that be? I had seen the early rays of
Father Sun creeping over the horizon. I glance up and found myself staring at a
man descending on top of me.

The shadowcatcher web prevented any possible escape. I had been caught. With
deliberate movements, the man slung me over his shoulder and continued walking
through the Forest. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the Drums of the Dead.
He held me out in front of him, staring at my shadowy form. And I recognized the
Fledgling’s eyes.

The man let go.

-=-

There wasn’t much night remaining. Soon I would just be another Forest where
nothing special happened. I anxiously longed for an eternal night where all of
my creatures could live in harmony under its miasmic shroud.

From deep within my being I heard a sound like the rolling of thunder. It
boomed throughout my trunks and shook the leaves with vibrations. I had never
felt so alive. I shuddered with pleasure.

The rumbling continued and I identified the source as the Drums of the Dead.
Their rhythmic beating caused a flurry of crows to scatter into the lightening
sky. I pinpointed the individual responsible for bringing a resurgence of life
into the Forest. No, it couldn’t be.

His core held fear no longer. With a bold mind and a courageous spirit, he
truly was the embodiment of the Totem spirits. I could sense his virtuous heart
beating in unison with the Drums. How could I have doubted his abilities? The
man bent over and picked up a black crow’s feather. He paused a moment and
inclined his head to the surrounding trees.

My leaves wilted slightly, as if bowing to their master.

-=-

The Ravenwood was silent, but I kept my vigilant watch. Nobody had returned
with any crow feathers to help make the Forest stronger. This concerned me, but
I knew there must have been a reason for the delay.

I heard rustling and watched as a man entered the reverent area where the
Ravenwood was located. The air was calm. I could not recall ever having seen him
before. His gaze was focused on the largest tree in the Forest, and he walked
towards it. I noticed the ends of a feather sticking out from his clenched fist.
With a gentle nod, he placed it in the Ravenwood and its branches lifted
slightly. Arcane energies pulsed throughout the Forest and swirled across the
grounds.

The man turned his head to look at me. All around him, the Forest guards were
staring at us, wondering what result our interaction would yield. My lips curled
into a smile and I patted him on the shoulder.

“Fai Glomdoring!” I shouted, and the Forest joined me. The darkness
dissolved as the night ended its hold on the Basin.

As the man grinned the world seemed to slow down. It was his eyes â€" this man
was the quivering Fledgling I had scowled at before. I pursed my lips and picked
up a small canvas backpack and a handful of vials.

The Forest was still shouting as I gave the man his belongings.

“These belong to you.”