Episode 3 - The Spriggan

[EXT. EMERALD WOOD. We hear the sounds of crickets, cicadas, and other creatures of the forest.  Soft and mysterious music.]

NARRATOR

The Emerald Wood is a forest so dense that no person has been able to enter it in almost a century.  From its edge, the trees form a thick wall of foliage with inky, black-green depths beyond.  The whispering wind prickles the skin with unease as it blows through the branches.

Tonight, the moon hangs low, its light diffused through the dense leaf canopy.  Bats flit about the treetops while fireflies flash below them.  Shadows lie heavy amongst the twisting roots, obscuring creatures both furred and scaled that stalk through the undergrowth.

A gnarled oak tree stands in a clearing, towering over a grove of its younger siblings.  Suddenly, it shudders. A pair of luminous green eyes peel open upon the trunk.  Bark creaks as a branch twitches.  It bends backwards towards the tree, bracing itself against the trunk.  A second branch quivers to life and does the same.  The tree groans and a humanoid figure separates itself from the bark.  Green leaves hang down in sheets from her head, her features wearing the organic swirls of the bark itself.  She treads through the dark grove of the forest, silent and ephemeral as the dappled light dancing on the ground.  Like a queen in her domain, she takes stock of the woods.  She reaches a clearing to find a familiar grassy knoll. 

The ruins of a squat stone hut sit atop the mound.  Its thatched roof has long since rotted away, but the stone walls are clean and free of plants. The spirit caresses the stones as she walks, finding comfort in their familiarity.

A wistful expression crosses her features. She stands still, luminous eyes clouded with the recollection of a distant memory.  Her reverie is broken by a nearly imperceptible heartbeat.  She can sense it from somewhere close… it is hurried, sickly.  

She kneels down, her oaken frame creaking as she brushes aside some heather.  She finds a burrow inhabited by a lone, frightened rabbit.  The creature is frail, nearing the end of its life.  She coos softly, placing her gnarled hand above the creature’s chest.  She closes her eyes, and its breathing weakens until finally, mercifully, its heartbeat stops.  She gently brushes the heather back over its body.  Its life has been returned to the woods, and as a steward of this place, it is her duty to ensure that this cycle continues unabated.

Suddenly, something in the air changes. To her, it feels like a coming storm.  Something sinister approaches.  It reeks of the stench of magic; those threads of the arcane that have been unnaturally bent and reshaped from their original forms to suit the will of humans.  Just when the sense of wrongness becomes unbearable to her, the tension breaks and there is a thundering bellow, a hollow metal chime, and a great clatter of stones.

[Wind gushes, thunder rolls, the clock chimes and the tavern teleports in.  Rocks clatter as they fall over.]

NARRATOR

The forest, holding its breath, releases it all at once as the insects resume their buzzing and creatures scurry away from the clearing.

A building has blipped into existence just a few feet away.  A building–with its cut, dead timbers and sheer, sharp edges.  It is a hideous grotesque thing desecrating the pristine wilderness.  And worse, the tremors heralding its arrival have collapsed a portion of the ruined hut.  Her eyes flash with a furious green light as she glares at the dark windows.  Mankind has returned to the Emerald Wood…and they are wholly unwelcome.

A part of her screams to be rid of the scourge, to end this blight upon the sacred forest.  But she stops herself from drastic action–for now, at least.  Instead, she will wait, and she will watch.  The ground around her begins to shift as the plants obey her unspoken command, and snaking vines begin to emerge from the ground and creep up the tavern’s walls.

[Theme song plays.]

AMARA

WELCOME TO THE BRASS EAGLE

Episode 3: The Spriggan

[INT. BRASS EAGLE TAVERN. We hear the ticking of the clock.  A door creaks and we hear footsteps.  Ellis is the first one awake, looking around and eager to get the day started.]

NARRATOR

Soon it is morning, and all is quiet within the Brass Eagle Tavern.  The glow of dawn has not yet pie rced the interior, and Ellis–with a sense of cautious curiosity–finds that they are the first awake in this unfamiliar place.  As they fumble about in the darkness, a stray chair leg catches them on the ankle and nearly sends them tumbling.

ELLIS

Gah! Ow…I’ve gotta find a window.

[The sound of a couple more footsteps are heard, accompanied with the sounds of someone fumbling around.]

ELLIS

Here it is.  (Sound of latch) Is…is it stuck? (Grunt of effort)

NARRATOR

They jiggle the latch, anxiety gnawing at the back of their mind. They peer through the shutters, and can just barely discern strange, twisting shapes spanning the windows, holding them shut from the outside.  They abandon this effort and run over to the front door, grabbing the knob with a sweaty palm.

[We hear footsteps, more hurried now.  The front door rattles and Ellis grunts in effort as they try to get it open.]

ELLIS

It’s no use!   …H-hello?  Is anyone out there?  Can you help me?  I can’t get out!!

ELORA, muffled

So you’ve awakened.  Tell me, young one…do you know where you are?

ELLIS, caught off rrrrguard

No…?  I’m sorry, I don’t—I’m not sure where this is.  Please, can you help me?  Do you know why the door’s stuck?

ELORA

You are in the Emerald Wood. My Emerald Wood.  Are you the one responsible for desecrating this place?

ELLIS

I have nothing to do with us being here!  Let me go get the Keeper. I think this is all a misunderstanding!

ELORA, cutting them off

No. Do you care to know what I see before me?

ELLIS, quietly

Uh…Wh-what do you see?

ELORA, 

(calmly, but steadily rising in intensity)

I see a blemish on the land.  Your structure of hewn wood and stone is the very antithesis of this forest.  It is a perversion of the natural order that I cannot allow to persist.  You have desecrated this place, and destroyed that which is far older than your own short life!

NARRATOR

The twisting silhouettes shudder and writhe, revealing themselves to be vines that rip the windows open at her command.  Light, wind, and fury pour into the tavern in equal measure. Ellis sees the silhouette of a woman–or…a woman-shaped creature–outside, arms outstretched as she commands the plants.  In the chaos, they cannot get a good look at her–but she seems to be made out of wood.

[Vines creak as all of the windows are ripped open simultaneously.  There is a howling wind rushing through the Brass Eagle.  The wood groans under the strain of the crushing vines.]

ELLIS

AAAH! HELP!  AMARA! MISTER KEEPER?!

[Amara wakes up on the couch.]

AMARA

(yawning) Morning, Ellis.  What’s the–AAAGH!  KEEEEP?!

(Another door.)

NARRATOR

The Keeper bursts out of the hallway door, a pair of large earmuffs resting atop his head.  He rips them off as he emerges into the chaos.
KEEPER, stumbling out

GUH, What?!  I’m up, I’m up!

AMARA

You had earmuffs?! I had to put up with that damned clock all night–

KEEPER, ignoring her

What is going on out here?!

ELLIS

I don’t know!  I woke up, the windows wouldn’t open, there was a woman outside with vines, and…and now…

ELORA, shouting

Arise, holy strength of the forest!  Reclaim this structure and cleanse this place!

AMARA, panicked and half-sarcastically shouting

WHO THE HELL ARE YOU, LADY?!  CUT IT OUT!

ELORA

Insolent mortal!  You would mock the powers of the woods?

AMARA

I’m not mocking anything!  YOU’RE trying to kill US!

ELORA

And yet you find yourself here in MY WOODS, having destroyed my home?  I must see you face to–

[The sounds of groaning abate.  There is little but the sound of heavy breathing as the trio stare at the spirit.]

ELORA

-Face. 

ELLIS, whispering

Is she–

KEEPER, whispering back

–A talking tree?

ELLIS

…Yeah.

KEEPER

Looks like it.

AMARA, piping up

What is your problem?

ELORA, quietly

Your face, it…is familiar.

AMARA

…Pardon?

ELORA, pleading but becoming more angry

Have you…Have you come here to torment me?!

AMARA

No!  I’m from Tabria, I’ve never even heard of these woods! WOAH!

ELORA

GRAAAAH!

NARRATOR

At the spirit’s command, Amara is lifted into the air by the writhing vines.  While she is jostled about, her necklace catches the sun—and the spirit’s eye.  The spirit pauses, staring intensely at the shimmering green emerald dangling from the pendant.  She commands the vines to pull the woman closer.

The spirit stands motionless, staring at Amara with an unreadable expression.

AMARA

…Are you going to kill me?

ELORA, conflicted

I don’t know.

AMARA, tugging at the vines

…Okay.  Can you at least loosen these things a bit? 

NARRATOR

The vines retract, sending Amara to the ground in a heap.

AMARA

Guh…ow.  Thanks, I guess.

ELORA, flatly

I am perplexed.  Your presence must be purged, and yet…I cannot bring myself to destroy you.

NARRATOR

The performer and the spirit stare at each other for a long moment.  Amara steals a glance to her left, noticing the cobblestones that have been toppled by the arrival of the tavern.

AMARA

…What’s that?

ELORA

A…relic of the past.  

AMARA

Do you live here?

ELORA, hackles rising

No.  Why do you ask such questions?

AMARA

Well, it looks like we destroyed…whatever this is.  …Is that why you’re so mad?

ELORA

I don’t–

KEEPER, cutting her off

Um, hello!  If it’s any consolation, we really won’t be here for long!  The tavern is usually a…temporary presence.

ELORA, considering

Hm.

AMARA

Look, we wouldn’t have come here if we could’ve helped it.  If we help you rebuild this…thing…will you let us go?  I don’t think you want to kill us.

ELORA

…You are correct.  I do not want to kill you.  Very well.

Death will not be needed if you help restore the…shrine…to its previous state.

AMARA

How…generous.  Alright.  You have a deal.

ELLIS

I’ll come too, Ms. Amara.

AMARA

Heh,‘Amara’ is fine.  You’re making me feel old.

KEEPER

Alright.  You two go on ahead, then.  I’ll be more useful here.

AMARA, whispering

You’re not coming with us?

KEEPER

No, I’ve got a lot to clean up.  And I’ve got a book on supernatural creatures I’m going to look into. I’ll see if I can find anything about your new friend here.

AMARA, distastefully

…Unbelievable. It’s your tavern!

KEEPER

First off, it doesn’t belong to me any more than I belong to it.  Secondly, I’m not the one who sassed the ancient spirit.

AMARA

It’s only because of my “sass” we’re alive at all.  But fine.  

(To ELORA) So, er, Ms. Tree…Woman–where to now?

ELORA

There is an ancient riverbed nearby.  The stones came from there.  Since the old ones were obliterated upon your arrival, you must bring more.

AMARA

A hike carrying rocks.  Fantastic.

NARRATOR

And thus, Amara and Ellis leave the tavern behind.  As they near the edge of the clearing, Ellis steals a glance over their shoulder.  The Keeper’s silhouette has disappeared from the window.

Amara calls out for them to follow, lest they lose track of their spectral guide.  They quickly realize that following a spirit of the forest is no easy task.

At times, she disappears from view only to emerge  behind a tree a dozen feet ahead.  She rarely slows, and does not look back.  It’s all that the humans can do to keep up, and they often lose sight of her until one catches a glimpse of movement and resumes the pursuit.

Before long the leaf-strewn earth begins to slope sharply down.  The path gives way to a dry gully littered with round gray rocks of all sizes, worn smooth by an ancient river.  The spirit hovers above a large boulder and finally turns to face her company.  They are still a good ways behind her, cautiously picking their way over the large, moss-slicked stones.  Something stirs within the spirit, and she watches them with an expression that borders on nostalgia.  Amara notices her stare as she and Ellis finally catch up.

AMARA, out of breath

Can I help you with something?

ELORA

…No.

This is where the path ends.  If you wish to honor our bargain, you will begin here.

AMARA

Great…wish I had brought more appropriate work shoes.

ELLIS

I guess we should just start a pile?

AMARA

Sounds like a plan.  You can start on that side, I’ll get the ones over here.

[We hear the sounds of footsteps crunching over leaves, grunts of effort, and the clatter of rocks as they build up a pile.  After a few seconds, Amara speaks.  She continues to work, periodically tossing new rocks into the heap]

AMARA

Can’t believe he stayed back in that stupid tavern.

ELLIS

Well, I’m sure he has his reasons…

AMARA

What reasons could those be?  That he’s a selfish prick?  

ELLIS

I don’t know…maybe…he feels safe in there?  He doesn’t really seem like he gets out much.

AMARA

Heh.  Like a hermit crab.  With his shell on his back.

(sighing) I’m sure he’s having a grand old time while we’re toiling out here.

ELLIS

Maybe.  So, Amara–when do you think you’re planning on…you know, heading out? 

AMARA

You mean leaving the tavern?

ELLIS

Yeah.

AMARA

Not sure.  Between here and the cave, we haven’t really found a good point to just…start walking.

ELLIS

I guess not.

AMARA

I’ll probably have to wait until we end up near a road or something.  What about you?

ELLIS

I don’t know.  A part of me wonders if…maybe I should stay for a while.  Just…see where it goes.

AMARA

I don’t really know if Keep would be a fan of that idea.  Not that it’s got anything to do with you—I think he’s just like that.

ELLIS

Yeah.  You’re probably right.

AMARA

He may be the “keeper”, but he’s not a good host.

NARRATOR

Amara spits in disdain, heaving yet another rock onto the growing mound.  As it clatters into place, she stops to wipe her brow.  She turns, glancing up at the spirit floating at the edge of the gulley.

AMARA

(panting) You’re not gonna help us?

ELORA

You must be the ones to repair it.

AMARA

…Ach, was worth a shot.  What exactly are we repairing, anyway?

ELORA

It…once served as a place of residence for me.

AMARA

I thought you said it was a shrine?

ELORA

I lived there.  I was once mortal.

ELLIS, throwing a rock

Hrmph!  Wait, you were human?

ELORA, sighing

The details are…hazy…to me, but yes…and I have the vague sensation that when I lived in these woods, I was not alone.

But…that has no bearing on the task at hand.

AMARA

Back to it, then.

[There is the sound of another rock hitting the pile, along with some earth shifting and leaves being brushed aside by Ellis.]

NARRATOR

As they pick up yet another stone, Ellis notices an irregularity in the ravine’s sloping wall.  Nearly obscured by hanging vines and twisting roots is a large, bowl-shaped hollow.  They draw closer and gently brush aside the foliage to get a closer look.

ELLIS

Hey, I think I found something?

[Footsteps on gravel.]

AMARA, coming over

Oh–weird! It’s like…a big scoop out of the rocks.

ELLIS

 Maybe the river made it?  It’s pretty well-hidden.

AMARA
Ooh, what’s this?  It looks like…a drawing.

ELLIS

 There’s some here, and over here too… There’s dozens.

NARRATOR

With the foliage cleared, the sun illuminates the cool rock face. Numerous figures are etched into the soft stone.  There are many characters, their features abstract and innocent, as if created by the hands of children.  Different scenes bleed into each other: figures holding swords in battle, some riding horses across the plains, others shooting electricity and fire from their fingertips. The same two characters appear in almost every scene, both beaming and nearly identical in appearance.  

Suddenly, Amara feels the eyes of the spirit boring into her. She is transfixed, drinking in the artwork with a haunted look as she watches from over their shoulders.

ELORA

I…I know this place.

AMARA

God!  Don’t sneak up on me like that!  

ELLIS, hushed

Amara…her eyes! (To Spriggan)…Are you okay?

NARRATOR

She does not respond.  

The light behind her eyes has begun to pulse ever so slightly, growing brighter and then dimmer and back again.  She drifts backwards from them, never looking away from the carvings.  The moss and ferns beneath her begin to sway, as if responding to her presence.

ELORA, distant

I feel a familiarity with this hollow.  I can see…two children. Echos…memories?  

Two little girls, giggling and smeared with mud, branches and leaves stuck in their hair. They conspire together, retreating to a secret place where they can watch the insects and salamanders with wide, curious eyes and etch the stories of their daring exploits onto the walls to be recorded for all time.

Ugh…I…I remember now.  I came here as a child… with my sister.  We made those drawings.

NARRATOR

All is silent in the hollow.

Back through the forest, atop the hill with the ruined stonework and the foreign tavern, the Keeper is tending to his damaged home.  He is sullen, muttering to himself as he cuts away the vines that have wormed in through the windows and floorboards.

[We hear the sounds of a pair of garden shears and footsteps as the Keeper works.]

KEEPER

I told them, if they came along something like this would happen. But nooo, she didn’t listen.  And of course, we haven’t shown up anywhere I can dump them off yet.(*snip*)

Now they’re off somewhere in the forest and that ghost could be doing who-knows-what to them!  Pah! (*snip*)

What do I care. (*snip*)

[There’s a moment of silence as we hear a couple more sharp *snips*, then the vines are brushed aside.  After a beat he puts the shears down.  Footsteps cross the interior of the Brass Eagle as he paces to the far wall.]

KEEPER

Still…I might as well keep my word. Where was that book…?

NARRATOR

The Keeper produces a keyring from his pocket, and unlocks the door that he disappears through each night.  Within lies a dark hallway.  Three rooms down on the left, he stops in front of a robust wooden door.  It stands apart from the others, a series of four large keyholes embedded in scarred wood.  He opens them one after another, and the door’s neglected hinges let out a loud creak.

A plume of dust is kicked up as he enters the darkened chamber.  He lights a match and ignites a lantern.

A large, sturdy desk sits bolted to the far wall, while shelves line the other three.  Documents are heaped on every available surface: leather-bound books, ancient tomes, and yellowed scrolls of all types.  Baubles of every shape and size sit in crates, or are simply strewn across the floor.  The collection is esoteric and bizarre: bottles of swirling liquid, forked instruments of gilded metal, an assortment of small skulls mounted on a board.  

Charts cover the walls, depicting everything from anatomy to delicate watercolor paintings of wildlife.  All have hurried, cramped writing scrawled across them; the Keeper’s own hastily written notes.

A thick layer of dust covers everything.  He stoops, rummaging through the clutter, and begins scooping up select documents for study.

KEEPER

(coughing) …Damned dust’ll be the death of me.  Been too long since I’ve cleaned in here.

NARRATOR

He steps back into the hallway, nudging the door closed with his foot.  Even with his arms full, he takes the time to fumble with the locks until the door is secured.  Back in the common room, he spills the papers across a table.

[Sounds of rummaging papers as he moves books and scrolls aside.]

KEEPER

Let’s see…

(rattling off topics) …Astral Entities, Divination, basic Alchemy...Here.  Magical creatures and the Undead.

NARRATOR

He selects a book off the stack, but he notices something else: a dog-eared piece of paper, folded and stuck inside a tome about magical pathways.  He feels a pang as he recognizes the document.  He carefully unfolds it, out of view of the clock.  A wistful expression crosses his face as he gazes over its contents: diagrams, meticulously detailed, incomprehensible to the layperson.  To him, however, it makes perfect sense-a set of coordinates; a point, traced out across the elemental and magical currents that run parallel to reality.

He sighs and folds it back up, tucking it back inside the book with the corner sticking out.  One day, he thinks.  But not today.  Not while they’re here.

He hears a mechanical whir that makes his heart skip a beat.  The Eagle is looking at him, head cocked, with one large, suspicious eye.

KEEPER, irritated

What are you looking at?

NARRATOR

Deep in the forest, the spirit stands alone as the others watch.  She is silent as she observes the drawings from her long-forgotten childhood, captured in stone.  She stoops down, inspecting a pair of small handprints pressed into what was once wet clay.  With an almost bashful hesitation, she uncurls her fingers and places her wooden hand gently on top of one of the prints.  

ELLIS, whispering

…Do we still have to be afraid of her?

AMARA

I don’t know.  She seems…different?

ELLIS

Yeah…she’s definitely calmed down a bit.

AMARA

I’m shocked, honestly.  I kind of feel bad for her?  Alone in the woods, not knowing who or what she is for years…

ELLIS

I do too.  I wonder if they left anything else in here?

AMARA, getting up

Hm…I’m going to dig around a bit. I like this better than moving rocks.  Keep an eye on her.

ELLIS

What?  I don’t–

AMARA

It’ll be fine!  I’m not going to break anything. I just don’t want her sneaking up on me.

ELLIS

…Fine, okay.

AMARA

Thanks, kid!

NARRATOR

Amara begins sifting through the accumulated leaves and brush that choke the edges of the hollow, careful not to disturb the artwork on the walls.   At first she only finds twisting roots and mossy stones, but then she sees something else. It is a faded doll, nestled amidst the fallen leaves. She draws closer, and as she brushes away the undergrowth she notices two more.  Made of knotted plant fibers, they have been spared from the ravages of time by their sheltered place in the hollow.

AMARA

Ellis, come look at this–

ELLIS

What’d you find?

AMARA

Three dolls…they must have been her and her sister’s.  There’s two that look like the girls in the drawings, and the third–

NARRATOR

For once, Amara is at a loss for words.  The third doll is taller than the others, resembling an adult woman with auburn hair.  Her expression is kind, with a broad smile.  Around her neck is a cord of hemp, with a small green stone tied in a loop.  Amara glances down at her own necklace, and with a chill notices that they are almost identical.  She recalls the strange look the spirit gave her upon seeing the pendant.

ELORA

…It is time to return to the work at hand.  I am finished here–

…what are you holding?

AMARA

Um…nothing!

ELORA

Let me see.

AMARA

No, really, it isn’t– Hey!

[Foley as the spriggan takes the mother doll from her.  She stares at it for a moment.]

ELORA

I…I’ve seen this doll before.

(pained, suddenly) No, I–Ughh!…Something…returns.  

NARRATOR

The spirit drops the doll and cries out as she is suddenly overwhelmed by returning memories.  She speaks softly, as if recounting a dream.

ELORA, dreamily, ethereal

I remember a glimmer of green light encased in a gemstone, warm to the touch…it catches the morning sun as it dangles from my mother’s neck.  She speaks to my sister and I as she carries a basket of herbs.

She is telling us about the forest, as she does each day.  We are stewards here; we have always been and always will.  She

smiles, and takes out a gift for the two of us.  She gently unwraps the cloth, revealing three dolls she’s made from the plants of the forest.  My sister and I are happy, excited to take them to our special place.

Then Mother turns to us…she tells us that there is a sacred secret about this forest. It has a… WILL. A mind of its own.  Each bird, tree, plant… everything plays a part.  The Forest can whisper to you, she says.  You are a part of it, and…must protect it.  She said…she–no–nooo!  The…memory…fades.

(sigh)  But…I remember my mother now, and her necklace.  

The Emerald Heart.

…The very same necklace you are now wearing, Amara.

AMARA

Oh, um–

ELORA, suspicious

How did you come to possess it?

AMARA

This was given to me as a gift. By my grandmother!

ELORA, indignant

A GIFT?  It wasn’t hers to give away!

AMARA

I don’t know how she got it! I’ve had it for years, I didn’t realize it was so important to you!

ELORA

…And yet you just so happen to be in this forest, with the very thing that was stolen from it?  From ME?

Ellis

Amara wouldn’t do that!

AMARA

I’m telling you the truth!  What else can you remember?  There must be something that explains it—

ELORA

I don’t–

AMARA

What’s your mother’s name?  Your sister’s?  Yours?  You’re only just starting to recall things!

ELORA, distressed

Nngh, stop it!

AMARA

No!  I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a thief!

ELLIS

Amara, I think you should back off–

AMARA

C’mon!  JUST TRY TO REMEMBER!

ELORA, at a shout

GRAAAAAH!  I SAID STOP IT!

[We hear rushing wind and creaking vines as the spirit uses her powers.]

NARRATOR

The spirit roars and clutches at her head, distressed at Amara’s questioning.  An unnatural wind whips around her, stripping the rocks bare and tearing away roots, vines, and leaves.  Flakes of stone shear off from the wall and buffet the hollow.  Amara and Ellis dive for cover.  Then, the wind dies down and the spirit straightens, her eyes ablaze with spectral green fire.

[All is silent for a moment as the wind continues, then abates.  There is no music, just breathing as the situation grinds to a standstill.]

ELORA, in a moment of clarity

…I remember it all.

NARRATOR

As the dust settles, the two humans peer out from their sprawled positions.  A gleam of white is now visible in front of them, once hidden by generations of plant growth.  It is a small skeleton, partially buried beneath a tumble of fallen rocks.  When the spirit turns back to them, she speaks in an echoing voice, as if spoken from very far away.

ELORA, in a voice like a chorus

I SEE THE LAST MOMENTS OF MY MORTAL LIFE.  

MY SISTER TAKES ME BY THE HAND, INSISTENT UPON ONE MORE ADVENTURE BEFORE WINTER BECOMES SPRING.  SHE LEADS ME THROUGH OUR HOLLOW, PAST OUR DOLLS AND DRAWINGS AND THE FOND MEMORIES OF LONG DAYS SPENT BENEATH THE TREES.  SHE SHOWS ME A PASSAGE IN THE DAMP EARTH OPENED BY THE MELTING SNOW.  I PROCEED INSIDE, EAGER TOr SEE THIS NEW PLACE.  SHE IS BESIDE ME, AND FOR A MOMENT WE SHARE THE WONDER OF DISCOVERY AS WE LOOK UP AT A ROOF MADE OF GLITTERING QUARTZ CRYSTAL.

THEN THERE IS A SHIFT IN THE UNSTABLE EARTH.  A LOOSE STONE, A STRAY FOOTFALL–I KNOW NOT WHAT CAUSED IT.  THE PASSAGE SHUDDERS. FEAR LIGHTS UP MY SISTER’S EYES AS SHE WRIGGLES BACKWARDS AND OUT OF THE PASSAGE. SHE TURNS, EXTENDING A HAND TO ME, BUT IT IS TOO LATE.  MY CRIES ARE SILENCED BY THE COLLAPSING SOIL AND STONE.  AND THUS ALL IS DARK.

BUT I AM NOT ALONE IN THE EARTH.  THE FOREST IS WITH ME.  

IT WHISPERS TO ME, ASSURING ME THAT THIS IS NOT MY END.  ITS WARMTH–THE POWER OF LIFE AND DEATH AND THEIR ETERNAL DANCE–PERMEATES MY COLD BONES.  

A NEW BODY, FASHIONED FROM LIVING WOOD AND ANIMATED BY THE FOREST’S WILL, AWAITS.  

I ACCEPTED THE OFFER, AND WAS REBORN AS YOU SEE ME NOW.

I REMEMBER MY LIFE AS ELORA, DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST.

AND I REMEMBER MY SISTER.

I HEAR HER NAME, AND I SEE HER FACE.  

A FACE WHICH YOU, AMARA, NOW BEAR.

AMARA

…I’m so sorry.

ELORA, snapping out of it

(strained) …you need to leave.

ELLIS
What was that?  Are–are you ok?

ELORA

…I…can’t hold it back.

AMARA

Hold what back?

ELORA

It’s–the Will!

AMARA

HUH?

ELORA

The…Will of the Forest…it…compels me. It…demands recompense. Leave.

ELLIS

Amara, I think we should listen.

ELORA

It–it does not like that I am remembering…you can’t be here!

AMARA

Um, Ms. tree spirit…is there nothing we can–

ELORA

LEAVE while my body is still mine to control.  And…my name…is Elora.

AMARA

…Thank you, Elora.  Let’s go, Ellis.
[The music picks up, and the sound of a pair of hurried footsteps over leaves is heard.]

NARRATOR

Amara takes Ellis by the hand and they crash through the underbrush, going as fast as they can back towards the tavern.  Amara pauses just once to catch her breath, and from behind she sees an ominous green light piercing through the trees.  A scream echoes throughout the wood.

ELORA, pained/distorted

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

NARRATOR

They resume their escape, and soon they crash into the  clearing, winded and panting for breath.

[The sound of running footsteps continues, and Ellis goes up to the door of the tavern.  They pound on it as Amara hangs back, wheezing.]

ELLIS

Mr. Keeper!  MR. KEEPER!  OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE!

[The sound of glass breaking, a curse from the keeper, and a door opening]

KEEPER, annoyed

AH–You made me drop a glass! …What happened to you two?    Where’s the fire?  

[Amara and Ellis both blurt out in unison, incomprehensible as they each try to get the story out at the same time.]

KEEPER

One at a time please!

AMARA, catching her breath

That oak spirit person woman..thing?  She’s actually a…ghost?  She died here, a long time ago, and there’s some kind of…force…controlling her?...It’s…the Forest itself…somehow.  She calls it “The Will”.

ELLIS

She doesn’t want to hurt us!  And her name is Elora.

ELORA

AAAAAAAAAAARRRRAGH!

[From the distance, we hear another primal scream echo through the woods.  Birds caw and fly away, startled by the noise.]

KEEPER

That doesn’t sound good.  Get inside, quickly.

[Footsteps and a door shutting as everyone is ushered in.  Then the sound of a heavy bolt being drawn across the door.]

ELLIS

Wh-what do we do?  I think she’s getting closer!

[Sound of a book being opened and pages being turned.]

KEEPER

I did some reading while you were out and I found something.  I suspected that she was some kind of spirit, and…here.  I think she’s a spriggan, a soul that has become infused with natural magic to act as a protector of someplace.  There’s a ritual that should be able to get through to her–and maybe even bind that “Will” for good.

AMARA

You just…had this lying around?

KEEPER

Remember that mage friend I mentioned?  This belonged to her, she dabbled in necromancy. 

ELLIS

…Dabbled?

KEEPER

Now—onto more pressing matters!

AMARA

What do we need?

KEEPER

Let’s see–some salt, some herbs…maybe lavawort, bucephalus…I’ll take care of that.  What else…er…a living tether to the spirit to help forge the connection.

ELLIS

What does that mean?

KEEPER

I assume some sort of blood relative. Where t he hell are we supposed to find someone like that?

AMARA, realizing something

…Oh no.  I…think I can help with that.

KEEPER

How so?

AMARA

Well, Elora insisted that I…somehow looked like her sister.  And she said that my necklace, ‘the Emerald Heart’, belonged to her family, so–

KEEPER

–Oh? I see.  No time to waste then.  Ellis, you’re with me.  Amara, most of this is going to be on you.

AMARA

Don’t like the sound of that, but okay.

KEEPER

We’ll do this on the roof.  Here–a way u p.

NARRATOR

The Keeper bangs on the wall.  A deep ka-thunk rumbles through the building as a ladder unspools from the ceiling and a trapdoor opens, letting in the afternoon light.

AMARA

You were keeping a whole ladder up there?

KEEPER

Yes?  C’mon!

NARRATOR

The Keeper shoves the book of rituals into Amara’s outstretched hands. The three of them clamber up the ladder and onto the tavern’s roof.

[There’s the sound of people climbing a ladder for a moment, and then a distant sound of a tree falling and echoing as more birds are scared off, loudly protesting.]

ELORA, distant

RAAAAAAA!

KEEPER

She does NOT sound happy.

AMARA

C’mon, what do we need to do?

KEEPER

Right.  Ellis, use this salt to draw a circle wide enough for someone to stand in. We’ll lure her into it.  That should keep her bound for a little while.   Amara, you need to be the one to  perform the rite.

AMARA

What should I say?

KEEPER

She’s not my ghostly relative!  Read the book!  Come up with something!  I have no idea.

AMARA, panicked and sarcastic

Wow, how vague and unhelpful!  Thanks!

KEEPER

Look–in this kind of ritual, the words you choose aren’t as important as the intentions behind them.  So you’d better mean what you say to her.

AMARA

AH…sincere…fine!

ELORA, closer, echoing

…The forest demands blood.  A…grievous violation.  Outsiders disrupt the balance.

NARRATOR

With the clock ticking, the trio make their preparations.

The splintering CRACK of a tree and the cawing of ravens announce the spirit’s reappearance in all her terrible splendor.  

The green glow has spread across her whole body.  Cracks in her woody carapace have widened, the wild magic of the woods shining and bubbling within.  Enormous woody tendrils lash out from her back, deeply gouging the soft earth where they push off to hasten her approach.

KEEPER, taunting

(whispered) Ellis, that’ll have to do!  Get down!

(shouting)  HEY!  Elora, is it?  We’re over here!  This is your chance to get rid of us!

ELORA, not herself

Insolence…intrusion…begone, bringer of foul magic!!

KEEPER

…That’s it…keep coming, keep coming…HA!  There!

ELORA, grunting

RAAAAAAAAAAAH!

[There’s a magical whooshing as invisible shackles are conjured around the spirit, temporarily binding her in place as she screams.]

KEEPER

Now, Amara!  While she’s in the circle!

[The sounds of the Spriggan’s sputtered curses and grunts of effort continue until the Keeper steps aside and Amara steps forward, producing the Emerald Heart.]

NARRATOR

Amara steps forward, the form of Elora trapped within the hastily-wrought ritual circle.  The spirit pauses her testing of the barrier’s limits, eyes wide and green as she surveys the terrified human before her.  Amara rocks back and forth on her feet, sweating mere inches from a literal force of nature held at bay by a line of salt.  She swallows back the panic, takes a deep breath, and waves.

AMARA, awkward at first

Hi, Elora!  If..I can call you that.  I…I’m sorry about all this.

So…it seems like your sister…was my great-grandmother.  I think that makes you…my great–great aunt.  I know, right?  Crazy!

I remember my great-grandma telling my cousins and I stories when we were kids.  Stories about anything…myths about the gods, humble parables…stories from her own past. I think it was these stories that set me on the path to wanting to tell my own, one day.  

There was one story that she only ever told to me, though.

  She had said that she had made a mistake, a terrible mistake, a long time ago.  She…had wanted to show her sister a special place.  But it was dangerous, and tragedy struck.  In the end, she lost the person who mattered most to her.  And she had regretted it every single day, always blaming herself for how it happened.  

When she was nearing the end of her life, she called me to her side and took a little wooden box out from under her pillow. She told me that she wanted me to have what was inside, because she could see that I appreciated her stories.  I was to always take it with me, to remember the past no matter what–even if it made my heart ache beyond all reason.

This necklace was inside the box.  I’ve worn it ever since.

NARRATOR

Amara unclasps the necklace and takes a step towards the transformed spirit of her ancestor.   The green fire burning within the spirit’s body seems to have dimmed just a bit as Amara speaks too softly to be heard by either the Keeper or Ellis.

AMARA, voice cracking

…I know what it’s like.  To lose a sister.  My sister, Lily…she…passed, and I wasn’t there for her.  I’ve been carrying the weight of it every day. The missed moments, the words never said, the goodbye that never came.  I’m…I’m sure you know what I mean.  

 I want to help you, Elora.  I can’t undo the past, but I can do this.  The necklace belongs with you.  I’ve had my time with it. 

(voice rising) By the authority given to me by my mother, and her mother before her, I return the Emerald Heart to your possession.

(becoming more angry, directed)

And YOU!  The “Will of the Forest” or whatever you’re called—-she has been a dutiful protector for generations!  With these words, you WILL be bound–and you will report to her.  NOT the other way around!

Let this gesture signify the pact!  By the losses we share and the love we abide by, I command you to release your hold on her!

NARRATOR

As her voice rises, Amara reaches across the circle and places the necklace over the spirit’s head.  The spriggan recoils, and collapses to her knees.  She seems to fight with herself, jerking this way and that, as the light inside of her begins to grow brighter.  It grows brighter still, consuming her in a brilliant flash of green that causes all three of the humans to shield their eyes reflexively.

[The music rises to a swell, then falls silent.  All that can be heard is the wind, which then dies down.]

NARRATOR

For a moment, all is silent.  Then the figure of Elora stands up.  Amara cautiously creeps forward, smudging the line of salt to allow her to exit.  With the circle broken, a lost family member finally steps over the boundary.

AMARA

…Elora…?

ELORA

Thank you, Amara.

NARRATOR

Elora places two gnarled hands on her niece’s shoulder, and Amara can see tears like sap flowing down her oaken face.  They embrace for the first time, as family.

ELORA

Tell me…Did Mira really blame herself, for all these many years?

AMARA

She…did. I’m sorry.

ELORA, lapsing into sobs

It’s not her fault!  It was never her fault.  Oh, Mira…

AMARA, consoling

…I think she knew that in the end.  But…we all have things we want to change.  I know I do.  She seemed happy.  She lived one-hundred-and-three years!  Not bad if you ask me. I think she was just too stubborn to let go until she was good and ready.

ELORA

She always was the headstrong one.  I…just wish we could have met again.

AMARA

Me too.  But…hey.  Maybe.

ELORA

…Maybe.  You have made an old soul very happy, Amara.  Thank you, again.  Truly.

(leaning in) And please…don’t blame yourself for Lily’s passing.  If Mira held that guilt her whole life, I can only pray that you will learn from her.  Things…they happen.  And we often cannot change them.  Life goes on, and we can only try to grow. 

AMARA

…Like the forest?

ELORA

Like the forest.

AMARA

Why don’t you stay for a bit?  I’ve got a century of family drama to catch you up on.

ELORA, sheepish and apologetic

I’ve…done a bit of damage here, I’m afraid.  

AMARA

Oh, don’t worry about that.  Keep!  Elora here wouldn’t be imposing, would she?

KEEPER, surprised

Um, no that would be…fine.  And–we’re the ones imposing.  Apologies, again, for our intrusion.

Besides, we have some new…skylights now, so we could take tea under the afternoon light.  I can get a kettle going.

AMARA

Ah, brilliant.  Let’s get down from the roof and find a table. You can join us, Ellis.  There’s a spot for you too.

ELLIS

Oh, um, okay!

ELORA

You were very brave, young one.  Thank you for your help.

ELLIS

Y-you’re welcome!  It’s no problem.

NARRATOR

\The Keeper sees Ellis cast a glance at the two long-lost relatives that have had the rare chance to reconcile.  His brow furrows, and he calls out to the youth.

KEEPER

Uh, Ellis?  Do you think you could actually help me in the kitchen?

ELLIS

Oh, uh–sure!

 

NARRATOR

The youth springs to their feet, eager to occupy their mind.  They follow the Keeper down the ladder, grab a mop, and help clean up while he puts a kettle on to boil. Amara and Elora descend as well.  Once at a table, Amara looks to her ghostly aunt.

AMARA

Elora…do you even like tea?  Being…you know.

ELORA

Oh, it’s fine.  I have no idea, it’s been almost a hundred years since I’ve had any.

AMARA

Fair point, I guess.  So…about Grandma Mira.

ELORA

“Grandma” Mira?  It has been a long time.

AMARA

Well, I only knew her as a very old woman.  She was always so full of quirks–

ELORA

…Ah, did she pour her milk before her gruel?

AMARA

YES!  She didn’t believe me when I said how WEIRD that was!

ELORA, laughing

I always teased her about that!  Did she ever talk about our mother?

AMARA

I never knew her personally, but Grandma aaaalways talked about her.  (Impersonating an old woman) “A proverb for every occasion, my mother had…”

ELORA

Yes, she certainly did, hahaha!

 

[This conversation continues, fading out as they laugh and talk and the ending music begins, signaling the transition to the end credits.]

 

CONNOR

Welcome to the Brass Eagle Episode 3: The Spriggan.

Written and directed by Connor Bushoven, and produced by Connor Bushoven and Michael DeMauro.

With sound design by Candace Mortier, Marcus Siniscalchi, Amanda Peach Hughes Bennett, and Yemi Kanmi.

This episode features the voice talents of Mike LeBeau as the Narrator, E.R. Hollands as Amara, Maddi Albregts as Ellis, Connor Bushoven as the Keeper, and Diana Helen Kennedy as Elora.

The theme song for our show, “A New Form”, was written and performed by Polina Faustova.

 

The ending song for this episode is Wild and Untamed, written and performed by Alyssa Gaiser as the Dread Halla Tavern.  You can find her on Instagram and Tiktok @dreadhallatavern

You can follow our show for outtakes, extras, and more on all platforms @brasseaglepod 

 

A five-star review on the podcast platform of your choice will go a long way towards helping us spread the word and reach new listeners.

 

Thank you for joining us, and we will see you next time in Episode 4: The Titan.