[ the Mouth of the Abyss. ]

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley, and nobody is quite sure where they came from or when they began to settle in that yawning chasm that the locals called the Mouth of the Abyss. It wasn’t until the tragedy of William Teller this past autumn that the villagers knew these monsters existed. The boy was the first to hear the infernal creatures.

He was on a foraging excursion with his parents on a breezy afternoon in the late summer. They usually didn’t go by the cave, and none of the Villagers would. They must have navigated the forest poorly. Its tall trees and rolling hills have a way of making such a mistake relatively easy. And now, Young William stared into the gaping jaws of emptiness and was mesmerized, dropping his basket and spilling all the wild mushrooms around his feet. His parents turned around after hearing the basket bounce against the rock. Seeing their son blankly staring into the cave sent chills up his mother’s spine.

“Billy?” His mother called to him. “What are you looking at?” He remained standing there, motionless. “Joel, what’s going on?” Elisa anxiously asked her husband, who walked over to the boy and waved his hand in front of his face. And yet the boy remained expressionless. Joel grabbed his son by the shoulders and gently shook him, saying;

“Son, are you okay?” Billy snapped out of it just as his father’s eyes leveled with his, blocking the boy’s view of the cave. The boy looked up at his father, and his face was so pale, and asked;

“Did you hear her too?” Joel looked over at his wife and then back at his son.

“Hear who?”

“She is singing in there. Her voice is beautiful.”

“Nobody is singing in the cave.”

“Just stop and listen.”

The parents exchanged concerned glances and listened to the wind. Elisa couldn’t take it. “Nobody is singing, Billy. Now pick up your basket and gather the mushrooms you dropped. It’s time to head home.” Young William closed his eyes and swayed to the song sung by the throat of the abyss. Joel scrambled for the wickerwork basket, pawing for the Lion’s Mane and Chicken of the Wood scattered across the dirt. He hastily tossed them in the basket and forcefully put that basket into his son’s arms. Then the father turned his son by the shoulders and started forcing him to walk, and Billy kept his eyes shut and began to hum a slow tune.

“Stop that, Billy.” But William just kept humming that unnerving tune as his father pushed him forward along their way back to the Village. “Joel, make him stop. I don’t like this.”

Joel shook Billy a little bit. His eyes opened, but all his mother saw was the white of his eyes rolled back into his head. He did not stop humming. Elisa stopped walking and knelt beside her son. “Stop it, Billy!” Elisa yelled. When he didn’t, she smacked her son clear across the cheek and screamed. She stared at her hand in horror.

“Elisa, that’s enough. I think our dear child is hexed! We must take him to the Katedra at once. He needs their healing hands to rid him of this! Quick, gather his load into your basket, and I will carry the boy.” Joel declared. However, he was just as fearful of the boy as his mother. Elisa took a deep breath, and a stoic calm washed over her. Now was not the time for fear, now was the time for action. She gathered up her son’s belongings and poured them into the large basket she bore, which rested on her back. Then she followed her husband, who carried their child towards the Village.

Elisa kept her gaze locked on her sweet child’s face. So pale, his lips were almost black. How could this have happened? Had he eaten the wrong mushroom when they weren’t looking? Who was it he heard singing? Indeed, none of the Farae would curse him like this! Humanity has had peace with them for generations. What witch did this? I will find her.

As they got closer to the Village, Elisa watched the color slowly begin returning to the boy’s face. The red returned to his lips. His cheeks grew flush, and as they walked through the outer gates, his eyes fluttered open. Elisa smiled with joy and began weeping as she watched her precious child whisper something in his father’s ear. She sprinted up to them as Joel gently placed Billy back on his feet. “What is it? Is he okay? What did he say?” She demanded.

Joel, in tears, smiled, then laughed, “he asked why I was carrying him and why you looked so worried.” Elisa finally let herself smile and knelt beside her boy, and she hugged him and kissed the top of his head.

“You had us so terribly worried, my sweet and innocent child. What do you remember?”

The boy looked up at her, “I don’t know. I thought we were foraging and having a splendid day, and I don’t remember….” His voice trailed off.

“We don’t know. We are still not quite sure what happened. I am just thankful you are back with us. Praise the Gods!”

“We still ought to take him to the Katedra. The Mothers will know what happened. Come, William, follow us.” Elisa said and held out her hand to the boy. He looked up at his mother and smiled, taking her hand in his and following her wherever she wanted.

They winded through the wandering dirt streets of the Village. The Katedra rose above the rest of the East Ward, in the center of which it arose. The boy always became confused walking through the East Ward, and he never liked it whenever his mother brought him there. Its narrow and empty streets. The rest of the Eastern District was so friendly and lively. The Sanatorium was at the base of the Katedra.

The cold hands of the Mothers make his skin crawl. He would have preferred that they just went home, but he saw how scared his mother was, and it terrified him more than the cold stone table they made him sit naked on. Everything was dark in that room. His parents weren’t allowed in with him. The Mothers entered the room from somewhere behind him. They surround him in their black robes, examining every part of him. Their cold hands and austere glares made his bones shake. One of the Mothers brings out a mixing bowl and crushes some crystals into fine dust. Others are chanting in tongues around her. There is another still poking and prodding the boy. They finish their chant, and the mother grabs a handful of dust and blows it into the boy’s eyes. Young William screams as his eyes begin to blur. His vision goes black.

Elisa is standing next to her husband, attentively listening to the mother’s instructions. They believed that William ate the wrong mushroom by accident. The boy could feel his father’s grip tighten with every passive remark the old witches made. Eventually, it was over, and they left the Sanatorium.

They walked back to their quaint cottage on the far side of the East District. On the way, everybody was quiet until the boy asked his mother, “Did I do something wrong?”

“They said that you must have eaten the wrong mushroom while we were foraging earlier today. Do you remember doing that?” William replied that he knew not to do that. Joel said that he believed him then Elisa chimed in, questioning her husband on whether he had more wisdom than the Mothers. Then everybody was silent for the rest of the walk home.

As they entered the house, they busied themselves with the chores they usually do after a day in the forest; all acted as if nothing had ever happened. Expect for William, who kept a hawkish eye on his mother, who seemed far more anxious doing her chores than most other days. They ate leftover stew from the night before for supper, which had been kept warm in the kettle hanging over the smoldering coals in their fireplace all day. Soon they were tucking young William into bed after they knelt by the altar and said their prayers.

William was torn from sleep sometime in the dark hours of that night. The sky was covered in a blanket of thick clouds allowing no moon or stars to illuminate the happenings on the surface. The boy shot off the bed in shock. Covered in sweat. Gasping for air. What had chased him from that dreamless slumber? He wondered as he stared out into the blackness which engulfed his bedroom.

Then he heard it again. A low, maternal voice sang out from somewhere in the hallway. He mindlessly followed it. Entranced by the beauty of its mystery. Forgetting the terror that had stirred him. At first, he thought it was his mother’s voice and crept along the creaky floorboards. William tiptoed into his parent’s bedroom on the other side of the hallway. The singing voice dimmed as he inched closer to his parent’s bed. They were both asleep. This caused the boy’s heart to drop into his stomach. In fear, he reached out for his mother and began to shake her, crying out to her to wake up and help him. But his hands seemed to somehow pass through her skin as if he were a ghost. Then, from behind him, the sound of a squeaky door. The boy screamed and jolted around. Neither of his parents heard this.

Standing behind him, on the threshold between the hallway and his parent’s bedroom, stood the shadowy figure of a woman. “Those are not your parents. This is just a dream, dear boy.” She said in a quiet and gentle tone.

“Mom?” The boy whispered, terrified. “Is that you?”

“Come with me. There is something I wish for you to see.” The shadowy figure turned and slowly walked down the hallway towards the steps. All the while, she sang that song that had woke him up, that the boy didn’t remember humming in his father’s ear as he carried the boy away from that dreaded cavern. William had no memory of staring into the empty throat of malevolent nothingness. So now, upon hearing that awful siren sing, that awful tune somehow gripped the poor boy’s heart with fear and drug his feet to follow the phantom wherever it led.

Out of his home, through the Village streets, they passed in the shadows, out of sight. That awful shade led innocent William away from his family and his home. Back to that dark place, he couldn’t remember. The boy thought he must be dreaming, being trapped somewhere in his mind, having to watch this nightmare unravel before him. Terror pulling him forward. Finally, he stood there again, standing before the Mouth of the Abyss. He could see its faint outline against the darkening night sky, for it was somehow blacker than the night upon which this boy was taken.

Then the moon breaks through the clouds, and the boy’s eyes catch a glimpse of the nightmare in its entire shape. He watches as the yawning jaws come alive and shut its throat. The gigantic leviathan thrusts its head up into the sky, eclipsing the moon. William only sees a mere portion of the serpent as the rest of its length is burrowed far into the subterranean depths. The dragon turned its head towards the boy and began to speak in a low, maternal voice.