The reek on the wind was all Havoc needed to smell to know he had arrived at his most heroic destination. The ground started to soften and was spongy beneath his hooves. The all too familiar muck puddles and mires soon started appearing as he tried to stick to solid ground. It was the Blackbriar bog, and he had nothing but regret for coming. Why had he signed up for this? Oh right, doing it for the ladies. HAvoc had felt compelled by his vision, not just the call of another adventure. The dream he had had at Grandfather tree had been a bit terrifying and really perplexing. The vision had placed him in the bog where he had never been before. Later he would learn where the unfamiliar place was. He had been seeking something, a shiny object. The whole thing had been like a mucked up dream vomit from his brain coping with the adventure to find the predators. It had been a cog, a stupid worthless Other-made thing and he had been left with more questions than answers when he came back to himself.
Upon returning to the Homewood, he had discussed his dream with his friends, and other young nouls new to adulthood and finding their places in the world. Someone had told him the noulicorn Scoria had some strange information about the Blackbriar and a treasure there, maybe it was related?
Havoc had discussed his dream a little with Scoria, and she had told him about her rumored treasure. A pool of water? That did not seem like a treasure to him, but she was insistent, and that was all it took. She also said she could give him something special in exchange for bringing her this water, and he liked the sound of that.
Never one to turn down an adventure, especially to help a lady, he and his hero complex had gathered some supplies and set off on the journey. And now he had arrived with not a clue what a special pool of magic water even looked like, or where to find it.
Trying hard to take shallow breaths and not vomit his breakfast up, Havoc carefully picked his way through the mushy hillocks. He tried to avoid the rotten mud but was splattered up tot he knees by the first evening. It felt like he had been all over the region, all he had seen was brackish water, putrid mud, and bubbling sludge. Dejected, he found the driest place he could, a flattish rock, and tried to rest. It was not comfortable.
The sounds of the bog were eerie, and he could not sleep. Little plops and hissing sounds of gases (he hoped) kept startling him awake if he dozed. Once, a whispering hiss right by his rock startled him and he thought he saw a light. It must be the moon reflecting, he thought as he started to drift off once more. A chill settled on him, almost like an icey blanket drawn over him and he was wide awake once more with a snort.
"Wh.. what?" He blinked in the dark and noticed there was a faint gleam that had not been there before. There was no moon to cast that glow. The night was thick with heat and stink from the bog, and not even the stars could be seen from his rock. What wast that gleaming? It was distant, and he was worried he might break his leg trying to navigate the swamp at night. But it pulled at him and he needed to see what it was.
It felt like an eternity of slogging and squelching his way through mud and tripping over scraggy branches. Finally, the gleam was enough to help light his way, and a few steps later he arrived at the edge of a strange rocky impression. It was like a plateau in the swamp, a wide flat indentation worn away over who knew how many ages. A glowing light shone at the bottom, like a moon in the water rather than one in the sky. The buck stared long at it, mesmerized. It was absolutely crystal clear, not a plant or leaf or living thing marred any of the perfectly round pool. This had to be the place Scoria had heard of.
Havoc nipped up the container pouch he had stowed in his bag, and dipped it into the water. It felt wrong to be disturbing it, but he had come that far, he might as well finish his 'quest'. Pulling tight to cinch the water pouch the best he could, he stowed it away safely for the journey back. He couldn't help but be excited at his success at finding the pool, and more than a little puffed up over it. What a story to tell his comrades back home! But ... should he have a sip?
The water looked more than inviting, it almost called to him. The deep clear pool seemed to reflect like liquid gold as the sun was rising. Fear spiked through him as he realized he was inches away, about to sip. When had it become dawn? How long had he been gazing into the pool?? No.. he shook his head as if to clear it. This is not for me. There was something unnatural about the place, and it was giving him the heebies. Who wanted to know who their true love was or whatever anyway? He was young, no strings attached, he wanted LOTS of loves. That thought made him grin a little, and he settled his pack and turned away from the pool. It was time to get this stuff back so he could get his prize in return and score some sweet hero points with the local does.
wc- 965
