It's Not Dark Yet

[Opal]

"...but it's getting there."


Across a silent meadow, dappled in pale sunlight and shadow, did the two foxes glide. Not a grey-green blade of grass did they disturb, nor any sound or utterance did they make. The few souls resting nearby skittered away at the sight of the pair, the scuffling of their egress echoing oddly in the strange and beautiful place.

As they neared the edge of the meadow they came upon a set of great, black wrought-iron gates. Beyond them a great crowd gathered, their features darkened and obscured by the thick fog swirling about them. Wordlessly the greater of the two foxes pulled the gates open with ease.

A spark seemed to go through the crowd. They erupted as one, bellowing and shrieking their fears, their confusions, their demands. It was always the same. Only this time, somebeast was actually bothering to listen.

"How did this happen? Who did this? Who did this?" bellowed the wolf the foxes knew to be called Yvo.

"You are fools who did not listen to the omens," the slow-worm Salishan hissed.

At this the foxes shared the smallest of glances. "Omens" indeed.

The duo started to press forward into the crowd, but their way was blocked by a wolf with a snarl on her lips and an animal glint in her eye.

"Answer our questions!" Kovari barked. "Where are we? Why is this fool gatekeeper  not letting us in?" She gestured at a huge badger in a black hood and robes who stood motionless beside the gates, a massive halberd in his paws.

The greater of the foxes stretched out a paw and swept Kovari aside as though she were little more than a gnat flying about his face. She was none of their concern at this moment. He nodded to his companion, who wended his way through the crowd. Beasts stepped aside as he drew near. He had a lean, almost skeletal look beneath his black tunic, but at the same time seemed to radiate a vicious strength that could almost be felt.

A rat was staring at the gates in fascination and did not notice the fox's approach. His icy claws caressed her shoulder. The rat shuddered.

"Follow me," the fox hissed in her ear.

Meanwhile, the other fox withdrew a short distance from the crowd until the oppressive fog enveloped them and their cries could no longer be heard. He folded his paws into his wide, pitch black robe sleeves and waited. Waiting was easy. Time was of no consequence to him.

He turned when the other fox approached. Eight creatures trailed warily behind him. Rat, rabbit, owl, beaver, two foxes, two minks. All present and accounted for.

"Come closer," he said, his deep voice resonating as one's might in an empty banquet hall.

They gathered closer, some reluctantly, as his companion took his place at his side.

"My Lord," his companion said, "I searched, but there was no sign of--"

"Peace, Zanzer. It is as I expected."

Zanzer fell silent and nodded.

"As some of you have guessed, I am Vulpuz, Lord of Dark Forest," the greater of the foxes said simply.

Predictably, several beasts shuddered. Others stood stock still, like they hadn't heard properly. Rallentando burst into tears. Rousseau muttered something about "too much alcohol" and flipped through the yellowed pages of a sketchbook, uninterested in the fox.

Rexim turned to Tobias, anger and pride wresting for control of his face. "See, thees es what happens wheen you hire eencompeteent archeetects. I blame you for this, Forst!"

"What are you talking about? Kotir didn't collapse on us!" Toby fired back, but then turned to Vulpuz with considerably less certainty. "Did it?"

Alan, meanwhile, merely eyed the two foxes. "I always thought you were bigger. Your friend there is, frankly, scarier than you are."

Vulpuz turned his great head, his fur an impossibly deep black that seemed to draw the surrounding light into it. His crimson eyes slid over the eight creatures that had been brought before him, pausing on each one in turn.

"Ah, yes, Captain Alan Blacktip. You never did learn when to keep your mouth shut. Yes, you've got some demons to overcome, haven't you? And little Rallentando, trying to save a beast that doesn't even want to be saved. Tobias Forst, a veritable child forced to do his father's work. Luka the Limper, once a proud guard and now a lowly cook. Chokk Wulgar, a beast bent on revenge against those who took his family. Rexim, the Builder, so covered in scars it's a wonder you've avoided this place for as long as you have. And then we have Clutus, who lost the power of flight and yet his ego knows no limits, does it not? And last but not least, Captain Rousseau, whose talents are eternally unappreciated by those around her...Captain?"

The rat was scribbling idly in her sketchbook. Vulpuz frowned. He snapped his claws and the sketchbook burst into flames in Rousseau's paws. The rat yelped and dropped the book, which quickly curled into ashes.

Luka remained numb. With half open eyes, the fox examined his claws. "A lowly cook...Everyone keeps saying that," he murmured, resting his cheek on his paw.

"Enough of this. You are wondering why I have called you here. I won't keep you waiting. As some of you may remember, you have all died. Kotir is being destroyed as we speak. Normally this would just be another day's work for me, but something peculiar has happened, something that is a bit hard to explain.

"I will try to put this into terms you can understand. Many seasons ago, the wolves that first came to Mossflower had a vicious battle with some of the tribes in the area. Somebeast was supposed to die in that battle, but they...did not. That's about as clearly as I can explain it.

"What does this have to do with you, some of you are wondering. This one beast's survival changes everything. Kotir is fated for destruction, but not for many, many seasons. A wildcat named Verdauga Greeneyes is supposed to settle there with his horde. Without Kotir, he will simply pass through Mossflower and settle elsewhere. Martin the Warrior and Abbess Germaine, the two founders of a place called Redwall Abbey, will never get caught up in the war against Verdauga's daughter, Tsarmina. Redwall Abbey will never get built over Kotir's ruins. I know you can't possibly fathom the importance of this, but Redwall Abbey needs to be built. Without it, many beasts will die before their time.

"Which, of course, creates a lot of boring paperwork for me." Vulpuz smirked.

"A delightful story, fox, but it seems to me you might have had better results if you had told us this before Kotir was destroyed and we all died," Clutus hissed angrily, his dark eyes glaring bitterly at the Master of the Underworld.

Luka snorted. "Yeah, y'know, the story is a lot o' good to us dead. Whatya expect us to do, hmm? You're the king here; we're just a buncha pawns."

"Ah yes, of course," said Vulpuz. "Obviously the solution to our troubles is to make sure that Kotir never is destroyed."

Chokk looked up at the wolf with an expression of disbelief. His words were tinged with anger from his helpless situation.

"Why? Why would anybeast want to leave that hated place standing? I don't understand what you ask of us!"

"Oh, Mister Wulgar," Vulpuz said with an air of long-suffering, "it's a shame you won't live to see Redwall. It's just the sort of place you peace-loving, plant-munching types adore. And if Kotir is destroyed now, you lot will never get the chance to fawn over it. You can be selfish if you'd like, though. By all means, let all those untimely deaths happen, as long as your family is safe."

The fox shut his eyes for a moment, sighing. "Right, now for the part I really can't explain in a way you could possibly understand. You will have another chance to save Kotir. A week to find the beast who should have died, and to send them to me."

"Why us?" Tobias asked. "I doubt that some of us are qualified for such a task."

"I have looked through thousands of possible outcomes. The eight of you seem to hold the key somehow. Together, you have the best chance of righting history. You must find each other and work together...as best as you can."

"Why can't you just tell us who we need to find?" Alan asked. "What do we get in return?"

"That wouldn't be very sporting, now would it?" Vulpuz grinned wolfishly. "The reality, though, is that I can only meddle so much in your affairs. I have likely done too much already. A week is all I can give you.

"As to what you get in return, you get a second chance at life. If that's not enough for you, you're more than welcome to walk through those gates. All clear?"

Without waiting for a response, he and Zanzer turned to leave. Vulpuz looked back over his shoulder and concluded, "In a moment, you will go to sleep. You will wake up wherever you were a week before the feast. You will be the only ones with any knowledge of what could take place at said feast. I know this is a feeble plea at best, but please don't do the predictable 'I must rationalize what has happened!' thing. You'll only waste precious time. This isn't a dream. It's all too real. Adieu."

When they were out of earshot, Zanzer asked, "How come you didn't tell them how many beasts still might die?"

"Kotir is all that matters," Vulpuz said simply. "I can do nothing for the rest of them."