Hosen looked into the dangerously glowing eyes that seemed to see far more than a human ever would. The two orbs, deep pools of molten amber, messed with his head. He wondered how he was able to stay sane during this encounter.
"Thae Drog'hath…" the entity whispered, drilling its gaze into him. Its voice was a whisper that clung to the skin, leaving goosebumps on anyone who heard it.
Something burned under his eyepatch. Badly. The heat spread like fire, as if whatever hid under was about to melt. He could hardly withstand it, not when venom still circled in his blood.
"Doc—!"
Inase leapt forward with his knife, ready to spill the first blood of whatever held his partner in place.
"Stop!"
Knowing the danger, Hosen raised his voice. What Inase meant to do would be sacrilegious. He couldn't let that happen.
"You're going to end up dead."
This thing wasn't an opponent they could cut down. Not with the knife, nor a gun. Not even runes would help… It was leagues above them.
"Whatever you do, don't attack her," he warned.
Her.
Inase swallowed his pride and lowered the blade. His partner's outstretched hand was enough to signal him to calm down. Reluctantly, he decided to trust him.
"…"
The entity stayed silent, watching intently, her eyes never once breaking from Hosen's.
The scientist's lip trembled, and he bit down, holding his breath against the weight of her gaze. Then he picked his words carefully and answered:
"Na'thul vey Yhoundeh'ra." I bow to the Elk Goddess, was what he said in her tongue. "Yours is the grace."
He spoke in half-breaths, still remembering her ancient presence. He respected her greatly.
Yhoundeh.(1)* An ancient goddess. One, whose own cult turned against her. Now she walked a lonely path, nearly forgotten by the world.
The burning beneath his eyepatch magnified, scalding him, yet he kept his calm.
No rash movements, no resistance. Only patience—similarly to how one would stand before a dangerous animal. Although she was more incomprehensible than a mere forest beast.
"..."
Her gaze became almost unbearable, like it twisted his insides until Hosen had an urge to look away. He forced himself to endure, though. He couldn't show fear, nor cower before her.
Weakness meant prey, and prey would be hunted.
So, he stood frozen, watching her back.
"..."
At last, she let him go.
Her hooves cracked the branches when she backed away, vanishing between the trees.
Hosen finally inhaled.
"Hah—"
The fresh air felt like salvation as he bent forward, steadying himself on his knees. He shook off the unpleasant sensation.
From her behavior, he sensed she hadn't meant harm. She wasn't a cruel goddess to begin with—just deeply misunderstood through her teachings. Alien, even. No one could read her wisdom or her intent.
Her existence was a sad one—that was why so many spread rumors of her being manipulative, deceptive, pretending to be gentle only to draw others into her cult.
Hosen hoped that wasn't true, but who could truly know an ancient goddess's intent? Still, there was safety in remaining cautious around her.
"That was dangerous…" he sighed in relief.
"Are you okay?"
The blonde jumped to his side immediately, offering him a shoulder to lean on, but Hosen straightened on his own; Inase had long since learned his dislike for direct touch.
"I'm still alive."
"Alive's good for starters."
Inase chuckled, giving his partner a quick pat on the back instead.
But they couldn't relax just yet. They felt her lingering presence.
The white-hair's eyes flicked to the treeline.
Yhoundeh hadn't gone—she stayed barely out of sight, lurked behind the trees, observing, waiting peacefully like she wanted something from them… Until both turned her way.
Only then did she graciously point deeper into the woods with her hoof.
"Zha'kul…"
Her voice scattered like a dying echo before she disappeared between the trees.
"What's she sayin'?" Inase whispered into Hosen's ear, careful not to disturb her.
"She tells us to come."
After he translated, Hosen moved after her without hesitation, and Inase followed.
Wherever Yhoundeh walked, the forest betrayed her nature. Vibrant flowers and lush vines burst into life beneath her hooves, only to wither seconds later into a trail of rot. The ground seemed both blessed and cursed by her presence.
Albeit they had a long way ahead, the goddess never faltered. Where the forest would have twisted and misled them, she parted the illusions with ease. It listened. To her, there was no maze, no torment—just a clear path forward.
She knew the way.
Unlike the two, she didn't have any trouble navigating it. Her influence overrode the tree's illusions, since she didn't have any tormenting weaknesses of her own.
As expected of the Elk Goddess; Inase, watching in silence, could not help but admire her power.
Step by step, she guided them further. The air grew heavier, more oppressive, until every breath tasted of iron. Still, they followed, their boots crunching over leaves that seemed to decay the instant her hooves touched them.
They weren't sent back, not even once.
"You're in a terrible state… What the hell happened to you? Did you get run over by a tank or something?"
Hosen remarked suddenly, eyeing Inase's battered frame. Dry blood clung to his face, even though he had already wiped it three times in a row.
"I'm still better off than you." The blonde shot back with a scoff. "You look miserable." Pale, tired, and weakened.
After he was satisfied with his witty remark, he grew serious again, "Why would she want our help? We're here to destroy all eldritch beings. That includes her, too."
"Maybe she wants that," Hosen answered, remembering the ancient scrolls he had read about her betrayal at the hands of her own cult… She might have held a grudge. "Maybe she wants to use us as a tool for revenge. Or justice for what had happened to her."
Was Hosen's first hypothesis—to destroy those who wronged her.
Thus, she helped, expecting something in return. Goodwill of the eldritch beings was never for free. It always had a cost.
"Or maybe she just wants us to save this forest. The tree spreads poison that kills the animals she is the patron of. She wants the pest gone," was his other theory.
"Mm. Reasonable."
That was who Yhoundeh was. To some, salvation. Benevolence. To others, the last thing they saw before the trees closed in. She protected nature's oldest secrets and punished those who sought them out with greedy hearts.
The two men fell into silence again, walking beneath her shadow. Branches arched above them like the ribs of some colossal beast. Every sound in the forest had dulled into silence. No bird, no insect dared speak here.
And at last (after around an hour), she slowed and stopped where the trees began to thin. Her whisper carried on the still air,
"Vornath ul Upas'khal."
So this was it.
"No wonder we had such a hard time getting closer," Hosen muttered, "It's an utter coward."
Inase gave him a sideways glance, blinking in confusion.
"Uh-huh… sure." He understood everything she was saying, definitely. Mhm. "And in human language?"
"It means," Hosen pushed through the branches, "we're up against the Upas Tree."
In one sweep, the branches moved away from their sight.
The eldritch goddess didn't follow. She already upheld her part of the deal by guiding them out of the labyrinth of illusions. At the forest's edge, she parted ways with them, her final words drifting behind,
"Vra'hnal… Thae Asul'neth, Thae Drog'hath…"
That was the limit of her aid. From here, they were on their own.
So, they walked through the bushes and dried-up branches, closer and closer, until they reached the border.
The forest thinned, but not in peace—it revealed a wasteland, a poisoned earth, and skeletal trees spread before them.
Beneath his boots, roots pulsed like veins—alive, yet sickly.
And there it was, standing proudly in the very middle.
The two saw the tree—looming, massive, crowned in an unnatural light, rising more than forty meters into the air. Its trunk writhed like bone-bound roots, and upon a closer look, its bark bristled with cruel spikes.
It bled sap that glowed faintly in the dark, dripping like veins cut open.
Just like in Hosen's hallucination, its branches twisted into jagged maws that opened with the wind, exhaling crimson poison from its flowers. The red haze coiled around its base and blackened the soil and spread outward, suffocating all life it touched.
Even one breath was enough to sicken.
"Huh. So this is how it looks up close," Inase was unphased, his tone coated with playful arrogance. "Nothing special."
(1)*From: "The Door To Saturn" By Clark Ashton Smith, 1932