Rating: T

Author's Note: Ha ha! I finally got this up! Finally! Took a heck of a lot longer to get this written than expected. Sorry about that. But hey, here it is! My second ever one-shot Redwall fanfic. Turned out pretty good, I think, though if I were to pick which one was better, "Zaran" or "I Am That Is", "I Am That Is" would win, hands (or paws) down. Still, I'm pretty happy about it.

Some things to note: I do take a few creative liberties with this fanfic, so there probably are going to be a few things that don't line up...perfectly with cannon, but it should all work out in the end. There are also light spoilers to "Doomwyte" so if you haven't read it...well, I can't stop you, so you're at least forewarned.

Next up: "Warrior of Redwall". Enjoy!

Zaran

The night in Mossflower Woods was currently the blackest of blacks. There was no moon to be seen anywhere in the sky, nor were there any stars. The sky was ladened with dark clouds. Like rain clouds, except these seemed to be bone dry. And she knew this simply because she couldn't feel the moisture in the air.

She was dimly aware of this much, and that was a start. She wanted to look around to learn more, but it was too dark to see anything. There was nothing more to be seen except for the dim outlines of the treetops that surrounded her on all sides. Everything else vanished in the darkness, like it was trying to hide from her. Mentally, she scolded everything for doing that, as her throat felt too sore at the moment to scold it out loud.

Which was another thing to note. Her throat hurt. And now that she thought about it, a lot of things hurt on her personage at the moment. Her chest, her arms, her paws, her legs, her tail, her head...in short, everything hurt. Which brought up a new dilemma. She wasn't quite sure why she hurt all over.

In fact, she couldn't remember anything prior to her waking up on her back in the middle of the forest.

No wait, she did remember something. She knew that this forest was Mossflower Woods, her native land. She wasn't sure where in the woods she was, but it was a start. Slowly, she started to sit up in preparation to build off of that, but gasped sharply at the sharp pain that suddenly stabbed at her middle, and she fell back onto her back again.

Slapping a paw over the pain, she held it there for a moment before realizing there was an open wound there. Pulling her paw away from the wound, she felt it was sticky with blood, and even in this light, she could see that it glistened with the fluid as well. Again her mind struggled to recall how she got the wound and why, but at the same time, something in the back of her head didn't want her to remember.

Which didn't sound bad, actually. Yes. Don't remember. Not remembering had it's advantages. She wouldn't remember the pain and suffering nor would she have to make herself go through all that again.

But wait.

Go through what again? What was it that she didn't want to remember? Was there a good reason? Or was she merely too scared of what she might find?

She growled at herself, getting frustrated that she was even having this discussion in her head and scolded herself for even having this conflict in the first place. She was a warrior after all, she shouldn't be stopped by this kind of problem.

Wait, she was a warrior? Thinking back, she couldn't find anything to prove it wrong, so she filed it away with the only other thing she remembered; the fact she was in Mossflower Woods. Pressing her paw against her wound again to staunch the bleeding, she decided that because she was a warrior, she must have gotten this wound in a battle of some sort.

It stood to reason. She wondered if she won said battle, and then also wondered just how badly she had been wounded. It was too dark to see and she was too sore to check at the moment, but she knew that if she had any more wounds such as this one, she would be in trouble. Though, she was still alive, and had made it this far alive. She supposed that for now she wasn't in any life threatening danger.

She supposed the next sensible thing to do was wait until morning, when it was lighter. Maybe then she could piece back together the missing pieces to her little conundrum. Though, that probably shouldn't keep her from trying now. It wasn't like she had anything else to do at the moment, or any place to go.

Now wait, that wasn't true either. She did have someplace to go. Home. Yes, home. But where was home? At the moment, 'home' could be anywhere. She needed to remember more about home before she could even begin to think about finding it again. But it was hard; her mind was giving her conflicting thoughts on the matter. Part of it said she didn't have a home. Not anymore, at least.

So...maybe she had a home at one point, but had recently lost it. Maybe that was what that theoretical battle was about. She was fighting to save her home. In that case, she must have lost, because she certainly wasn't at home anymore, that much she knew. She wondered for a moment what became of her home. Was it destroyed? Burned to the ground? Or did somebeast just kick her out of it and took it for him or herself?

A startling thought then came to her mind. If she had no home, did that mean she had nothing left, save herself and the clothes on her back (which she then noted were tattered and torn, no doubt from the mysterious battle she was in)? And a weapon. She had to have a weapon around here somewhere. She looked around for it for a moment, moving gingerly, but it was just too dark. It was another thing that was going to have to wait until it was light.

She made a guttural grunt of annoyance at this thought. She felt helpless, and she didn't like it. She felt like that she should be somewhere, but like so many things, didn't have a clue what it was. She was simply stuck here until she was either found by somebeast, became able to move on her own, or just lay here until she died.

An interesting thought, that. Just lying here and waiting to die actually seemed a bit appeasing to her. It would solve several of her problems by just making them go away. What would it be like to die, anyway? She had heard stories, but she had no way of knowing if any of them were true until she actually experienced it for herself.

But then, she didn't want to have to die just to find out. Once she was dead, there was no going back, unless there was something about the process she didn't know about that she could do. Only one way to find out. But no, it wasn't her time to die yet. And until she decided otherwise, she was going to do her best to stay in the land of the living.

But of course, there were consequences to that choice. She still needed to get out of her current predicament, and then once that was done, work to regain everything she had lost, if it was possible. She would to need to know more about what had happened in order to figure that out.

So, back to the mysterious battle then. What did she know about it, besides that it involved home, a very bad creature, and that it might or might not have gone very badly? Did she remember anything about it? Not very. She did have a clue she could possibly work with, and that was her wound.

How did she get it, anyway? There was the obvious fact that whomever she was fighting probably caused it. Did she remember more about this creature? Was it male or female? She couldn't recall. Was it vermin? Most likely, who else would she be fighting with? How were they armed, and what kind of weapon was it?

She tried to recall. Something sharp, but then that was obvious. A blade, then. Probably a dagger or something of the sort. She paused for a moment to envision a dagger slashing at her flesh, then with a start suddenly got a much more vivid envisioning of the event than she had expected. It had to be a memory of the actual event, it had to be. Squeezing her eyes shut, she worked to recall the details of the memory.

Sulphur. She remembered the strong smell of sulphur, so much so it was difficult to breath. And some kind of green light, one that sent chills down her spine, and made a feeling of immense dread seep into her stomach. She then remembered the weapon itself, the one that injured her so. But it wasn't a weapon at all, at least not in a sense. It was a claw, long and vicious. No, not a claw, but a talon. Yes, a talon, for a bird.

She dimly started to remember said bird, and saw it was big and black, probably a crow. She strained to remember more, and then, like the dam to a river that suddenly had burst, the memories started flooding back to her. She remembered pain lancing through her middle as the crow's talon dug into her flesh, remembered gripping something tightly in both paws, remembered the sting of tears in her eyes, remembered the look the crow had as she slew him in a single stroke, and the cacophony that arose as more creatures came to take the crow's place.

It rapidly grew to be too much for her to handle, and she worked to try and shut it all back out again, but it seemed once the process had started, there was no stopping it. The memories started coming back so quickly that they were mere flashes now, and impossible to sort out. She got more glimpses of that battle, of the events just before it, and events that seemed entirely unrelated, finally until she couldn't focus on any of it, and it merely became a blur.

Then, just when she thought she couldn't handle it anymore, something echoed out in her mind, something that acted like a bucket of clod water thrown over her head, driving her senses back under her control, and allowing her to focus on the one thought, or rather, realization.

Zaran.

Her name was Zaran.

"Wonderful night for a stroll, ain't it, Zaran?"

The sable furred otter turned to look at her mate, Varon, who was similarly sable colored, and grinned.

"Yes it is, Varon." Zaran agreed, and looked around at the cool spring evening in Mossflower Woods.

It was still as still could be, not uncommon on these kind of nights, and it was perfectly quiet, save the noises she and Varon made as they walked along. Zaran listened to the sounds of their footpaws pressing against the ground, alternating between grassy and layered with dirt, to the swish of plants as their tails brushed against the surrounding shrubbery as they swung back and forth.

Then, quite suddenly, a new noise rang out from behind the pair as a small creature crashed through the woodlands towards them. Zaran wasn't worried, and was merely forced to grin again.

"Here she comes again." she said to her mate.

"I hear her." Varon said, also unconcerned.

"I don't think she'll give up until she's actually convinced she's scared us at least once tonight."

"Probably."

"Think we should act scared this time?"

"We might as well, or we'll never get home."

They waited for the approaching creature to reveal herself. They needn't wait long. With a mighty lunge, which wasn't so mighty for a creature of her size and age, a young sable furred otter jumped out and grabbed Varon's tail with a comical growl.

Varon pretended to jump with fright, perhaps overdoing it a little, because he literally jumped into the air, very nearly throwing the little creature dangling from his tail into the air herself. Like the scamp she was, though, she merely began laughing her head off.

"Oh, bless me heart, something's got my tail!" Varon yelled at the top of his lungs, now running around in circles, towing the giggling youth behind him. "Get it of me! Get it off me, Zaran!"

Trying to keep herself from laughing herself, Zaran whipped out her sword with a well-practiced flourish, and brandished it about. "Don't worry mate, I'll help you, but I might have to cut that tail of yours clean off to do it!"

She swung her sword down at Varon's tail as if she really was going to cut it off. Varon quickly dodged aside.

"No, no, not me tail!" Varon wailed like a little otter pup as he dodged Zaran's swings, the little otter, now laughing hysterically, still hanging tightly to his tail. "I like me tail! No, there must be another way! Spare my tail, Zaran, spare it, pleeeeeaaaaase!"

Laughing so hard now she had gotten hiccups, the little otter couldn't handle it anymore and finally let go of Varon's tail and rolled on the ground as she laughed, tears streaming down her face.

"No, no, no!" she squealed. "Tis just me, Pa!" she cried.

Varon froze for a moment, looking bewilderedly down at the little otter, again to Zaran's amusement, then turned around in circles for a few moments, trying to get a good look at his tail. Acting like that he now saw that only the little otter could've been the one who held onto his tail, he glanced back and forth from his tail to the youth before finally grinning.

"Well I'll be, it most certainly is!" he cried. "By the fur and claw, Namur, you nearly scared the hide off of me!"

This comment sent Namur into a new fit of giggles. "Hee-hee, I scared ye, I scared ye, Pa!" she cried in a sing-song and taunting voice.

Chuckling, Zaran sheathed her sword, and scooped up her daughter with one arm. "Aye, so you did." she said, tickling Namur briefly. "But no more of that now. It's getting dark, you need to stick close now."

"Aye, in fact we should be heading home." Varon agreed, looking around. "Good thing we've got the moon to light our way."

He pointed up with one claw at the glowing orb that hung over them. Both Zaran and Namur looked up at it.

"It's so pretty." Namur whispered from Zaran's arms. She then suddenly glanced back downward and into the woods. "Like that."

She pointed into the woods. Perplexed, both Zaran and Varon peered into the woods and saw a pale white light glowing in the distance...

She awoke with a start, and was nearly blinded at the sight of the sun shining in her eyes. Squeezing them back shut, she moaned for a moment, then slowly opened them again, more carefully this time. It was early morning. The sun couldn't have risen more than a hour ago. The sky was still golden with the light of dawn. The sunlight now shone down upon her through the green tree branches, casting a yellow sheen upon her black fur.

Gingerly, she prodded at her wound, and was pleased to see it had finally stopped bleeding. Carefully, she sat up and looked at it for the first time. It was crusted with dried blood. But the wound wasn't really as deep as it had first seemed, and should heal nicely. While she was at it, she looked the rest of herself over. She had many other wounds, but the first was the deepest. Most of them were mere scratches in comparison.

She was a complete mess, though. Mud and dirt, in addition to blood, some of which she realized couldn't have been her own, was caked onto her fur. She could stand a bath. And while she was at it, a drink as well. But first things first, she needed to figure out where she was. Feeling much better than she had the night previous, she carefully stood onto her footpaws and looked around.

But even with it being daylight, the woods didn't look any more familiar than they had before during the night. She was now beginning to think she was in a part of Mossflower she had never been in before, and that worried her. What was worse is that she still didn't have any recollection of how she got here and why.

Looking around, though, she did find a sword lying in the grass, also caked with blood, and she guessed that this was her weapon. Picking it up by the hilt though, she realized that while it seemed very familiar, she knew it wasn't hers, not rightfully, though. Looking around, it didn't take her long to find another sword, lying on what would've been her opposite side were she still lying on the ground.

She determined that she must have been armed with both when she ended up here, and recalling the memories that had rained down on her the previous night, now just dim ghosts of what they were before, she knew that she had used both swords in the battle she could only vaguely remember now.

She still was missing too much from her memory to put all the pieces of the puzzle back together, but at least she had more now that she did when she regained consciousness in the dead of night last night. But right now, now that she knew she was going to be all right, she wanted to get herself cleaned up. In fact, she could hear a stream not far from where she was now. And maybe she could follow the stream to get to more familiar lands.

Collecting both swords, she headed off in the direction of the sound of the running water. It wasn't long before she found a small, bubbling, stream. Enthralled by the sight of it, she hurried right over to it and knelt down, first greedily drinking down the sweet water, soothing her parched throat.

Once she had her fill of the liquid, she then took each of the two blades in turn and cleaned the blood and gore off of them in the stream. Soon they were both shining brightly in the morning sunlight again. Then, setting the blades aside, she let out an excited yell and dove straight into the stream and began washing the grime off of her fur. After that, she continued to play and swim in the water like an ordinary otter, not having a care into the world, until she finally grew tired from all the activity and pulled herself towards shore again.

Grabbing the two swords from where she left them, she turned her attention to finding a location she could use to rest and sleep in peace. She eventually spied a slab of stone that overhung the stream a little bit further down the bank, and made her way towards it. Upon a closer investigation, she saw that there was a little sheltered cavern of sorts under the stone, and slipped into it, curling up on the hard stone to rest.

It was then that she started to direct her attention back to the matter of not knowing who she was. At least she knew she had a name was, and what that name was. Quietly, she said it aloud to herself.

"Zaran."

It had a nice ring to it. She particularly liked the sound of it, and how it had a slight echo from within the overhang. Grinning, she repeated it, louder this time.

"Zaran!"

Laughing, she started repeating her name over and over again to herself, for no real reason other than to hear her voice speaking. Seeing that she didn't have any other creatures to speak to, or for them to speak to her, talking to herself, even in this simple manner, seemed the next best solution.

"Zaran!"

But, was that all there was to her name? Did she have a last name, or was it just Zaran? Her mind said that she did, but she couldn't remember for the life of her what it was. Thinking hard, she tried to recall what it might be. Looking down at herself, she noted her black fur. There was something special about it, something to praise the fur for. It was something that made her unique from other otters. She figured her last name should reflect something about that.

And with that, she got an idea of what it could be, and happily shouted it out loud.

"Zaran the Black!"

She wasn't sure if that was her real last name, probably not, but she didn't care. It sounded right and that was all that mattered.

"Zaran the Black! Zaran. Zaran will fix this. Yes, so I will."

But how? How would she resolve her problems?

Sighing, she leaned over the edge of the rock surface and into the water, studying her reflection. She recalled the dream she had during the night, involving her, and two other otters, one very young, that felt very close to her heart. Varon and Namur. Yes, that were their names.

What happened to Varon and Namur? Where were they?

Again, her mind didn't want to remember that, and it gave her a bad feeling of dread in her stomach. Just like the light in the woods she remembered her dream ending with. She sensed something had happened to them. Something bad. Just thinking that pained her heart.

But she had to know. She wanted, no, needed to know what had happened to them. They were important to her. What happened to them, whatever it is, was important too. And in order to find out what happened to them, she would need to find them. And find them she would, even if she wouldn't like what she found.

A wave of grief washed over her suddenly, and tears started to run from her eyes. She wasn't sure why she was sad, and thought that maybe she was sad because of some memory she had forgotten that was so painful she didn't need to remember it to be saddened so. It didn't make much sense, but she let the tears come, watching the teardrops distort her reflection in the stream water as they dripped off her whiskers.

She noticed suddenly that there was a large bump on her head that she had never noticed before. Her sadness instantly forgotten, she rubbed at it with one paw. She must have hit her head on something, and hit it good. That must have been how she forgotten everything. She couldn't remember when and where she hit her head, but it didn't matter. Feeling tired again, she curled back up into a ball and started talking to herself again.

"Zaran. Zaran will fix this. Zaran will find Varon and Namur. This I promise. Zaran will find them."

"It's so pretty. Like that."

She pointed into the woods. Perplexed, both Zaran and Varon peered into the woods and saw a pale white light glowing in the distance. Surprised, they both moved to get a better look at it.

"What is it?" Zaran asked.

"It looks almost like a lantern." Varon said. "But I've never seen a lantern that looked like that before."

"Do you think it might be some creature?"

"It must be. Look, it's moving. If it is a creature, he must be lost."

"Maybe we should help him." Namur said innocently, still sitting in Zaran's arms.

"Very thoughtful of you, daughter." Zaran praised with a grin. "But we don't know who that creature is. He might be vermin. And we don't want to get mixed up with the likes of them."

"Still, something doesn't add up about this." Varon said, pulling out his own sword. "I'm going to go check it out. You're welcome to come with, or you can head on for home. I'll catch up later."

"I don't like the idea of you being out here alone." Zaran said, stepping up beside her mate. "We'll come with."

"Then come on then." Varon said, motioning forward with one paw.

And with that, they started towards the mysterious light. It continued to bob and weave it's way through the trees, and never seemed to be coming any closer. Regardless, the threesome continued to try and make their way towards it.

"It's definitely not a campfire, that's for certain." Varon said finally. "That light keeps moving away from us."

"If it really is a creature, then they must not want help." Zaran decided with a shrug.

"Or they just don't know there's anybeast around t' 'elp." Namur remarked from Zaran's arms with wisdom that defied her age.

Zaran looked at her daughter with pride. "Very clever, Namur." she praised. "Perhaps, then, we should announce our presence."

"Worth a shot." Varon agreed, and took another step towards the mysterious light hanging out in the distance. "Hello there, mate!" he called. "Are you need of some help?"

The light stopped moving, like it had heard Varon call out, but it didn't reply. Once it had stopped moving, it seemed it wasn't inclined to start moving again, for it simply just sat there. Varon watched it for a moment, wrinkling his brow in puzzled thought.

"Hello?" he called again, this time with more hesitation. "Are you lost? Maybe we can give you directions!"

There was still no response. Varon shook his head.

"I'm convinced there's a creature of some sort out there." he said determinedly.

"Then why aren't they replying to your calls?" Zaran asked.

"Maybe he can't hear us, mother." Namur suggested innocently.

Zaran shook her head. "No, he'd have to be deaf for that." she reasoned. "And besides, he, whoever he is, must have heard something. Otherwise, why did he stop?"

Varon squinted his eyes at the light. "All rather puzzling, this." he said.

Them without warning, the light started moving again, moving away from them at a faster pace than before. Varon broke out in a run and chased after it without warning. Zaran, not wanting anyone to be separated, hurried after.

"Hey, wait mate!" Varon called out as he ran. "We're friends, not enemies! We aren't going to hurt you! There's no need to run!"

But the light kept moving, heading ever deeper into the woods.

"I don't think he's going to stop, Varon." Zaran said, panting from the exertion of running.

Varon didn't reply. Instead he narrowed his eyes and ran faster. The light continued moving away from them, but it never went so far that it vanished from their line of sight. It always managed to stay in their view, Zaran noticed. Eventually, the light lured them into a denser part of the forest, the interlocking branches hiding the moon for sight, and in the darkness that followed allowed the light to shine more noticeably.

Then the three suddenly ground to a halt as another light suddenly appeared next to the first.

"There's another!" Varon exclaimed, pointing at the new light.

"An' there's another!" Namur said excitedly, pointing at a third light that suddenly appeared by the other two.

Zaran narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Something doesn't add up about this." she said, and handed Namur over to her mate. "Varon, take Namur. I'm getting a bad feeling about all of this."

"So am I." Varon said with a similar look in his eyes. He took Namur and cradled her in one arm while he gripped his sword tighter in with his other paw.

Zaran pulled out her own sword and moved forward cautiously, eyeing each of the three lights in turn, convinced there was reason to suspect something wasn't right. She had a feeling of dread seeping into her gut as well, not to mention that something just seemed plain off again.

"There's another light!" Namur squealed suddenly, who had been watching the lights with awe.

Varon turned to look at the fourth light. "Good seasons!" he exclaimed as he moved towards the light, stepping away from Zaran. "Where are all of these curious lights coming from? If I didn't know better, I'd say that there was..."

He stopped suddenly, mid-sentence. Zaran noticed the sudden silence and turned in the direction she had seen her mate go in.

"Varon?" she called hesitantly. "Varon, where are you?"

"Zaran!" Varon's voice suddenly called out, sounding panicked. "Get over here, quick!"

Zaran quickly ran towards the sound of Varon's voice, fear starting to grip her heart. Because the adrenaline rush heightened her senses, she smelled the swamp before she saw it. She skidded to a halt right at the quagmire's boundaries and saved herself from getting ensnared in the soft mud.

But Varon wasn't so lucky, as he didn't stop until he was a couple of feet into the swamp and started sinking. By the time Zaran arrived, alarmed, Varon was already up to his waist in the mud and sinking deeper very fast. He held a very frightened Namur as high into the air as he could to keep her from getting sucked into the swamp as well.

"Zaran!" he exclaimed when his wife appeared. "Quick, take Namur!"

He held Namur out to Zaran, who in turn flung her paws out hopefully at her mother. Zaran quickly threw her sword aside and laid out on the ground flat on her belly and crawled her way carefully closer until she could wrap her claws around her daughter and pull her to safety. Quickly double-checking she was safe, Zaran placed Namur to one side.

"Stay there!" she instructed and then turned and grabbed her sword again and cut off a long limb off of a nearby tree.

Lying flat on her stomach again, she held the limb out to Varon to grab. Still holding onto his sword with one paw, however, Varon couldn't get a good grip. The mud had already reached halfway up his chest, and he was sinking deeper, so Zaran quickly sought a remedy.

"Varon, give me your sword!" Zaran ordered, holding out her paws.

Varon offered the sword to her point first, which wasn't the wisest choice, but given the circumstances, Zaran didn't think of it, and grabbed the sword by the blade, pulled it to solid ground, and tossed it aside. Picking up the limb again, she held it back out to Varon. Now that both paws were free, Varon was able to get a good grip on it.

The mud was now up to Varon's shoulders, so Zaran didn't waste time pulling Varon out of the quagmire. She pulled with all her strength, her muscles tightening, but for a moment, the only direction Varon moved was deeper into the swamp. For one frightful moment, it seemed like that it was too late to pull Varon free. Then, quite suddenly, Varon popped out of the mud with slurp. Once he was free, Zaran was able to pull her mate to safety with ease.

Once Varon was there, Zaran flopped down onto the ground, weary from the exertion of pulling Varon free, and simply lay there panting. After doing this for a moment, she looked over at Varon. He was a complete mess, covered from the neck down in thick, sticky, mud, and was also lying on the ground and breathing heavily. But, he was alive.

And that was important.

Without even needing to think about it, she grabbed Varon and embraced him in a hug, ignoring the fact that she was getting mud all over herself. Varon returned the hug. Then Namur, who had been sitting to one side watching with fright let out a joyful cry and ran up and joined in the hug. Varon continued to hug Zaran for a moment longer, then released her and turned and grabbed his daughter into a hug as well.

Zaran sat back on her haunches and watched the two hug for a moment with a smile, then turned around to retrieve her and Varon's sword from where she had left them. She had all but forgotten the lights they had been following, which seemed to have stopped to hover around the edges of the swamp like they were watching events unfold, but then they were brought back full to her attention when they quite suddenly surged forward.

Claws grabbed Zaran from behind and shoved her into the ground. Quickly, she lashed out with one paw to grab one of the two swords lying nearby, but another set of claws whisked the blades out of her reach. She heard cries of surprise as similar claws grabbed Varon and Namur. Zaran redoubled her efforts to try and free herself, but this only earned her another set of claws pinning her down as a net was thrown over her head and was secured, entrapping her within.

Once the net was secured, she was thrown almost dismissively to one side with a thud. Through the net holes, she could see Namur and Varon receiving the same treatment in their own net, separate from Zaran's. Varon was clutching Namur close to his chest, the little otter child scared witless. Zaran felt a new wave of anger wash over her, and she redoubled her efforts to free herself.

Talons suddenly latched onto Zaran's head and rammed it forcefully into the dirt, nearly knocking Zaran unconscious right there and then.

"You cannot resist the Doomwytes, riverdog!" a harsh, but evilly smooth voice said.

And then the talons rammed Zaran's head into the ground once more, still not succeeding in knocking Zaran unconscious, but dazing the sable-furred otter enough that all the fight left her.

For now.

This time she awoke more slowly, feeling a bit disoriented. Puzzled, she looked around at her surroundings, talking to herself all the while.

"Where be Zaran? This place seem unfamiliar. Should be in forest, with many trees, yes."

It was then that she remembered finding the overhanging of stone and crawling under the space underneath to use as a place to rest. She saw that she was still there, the lighting had simply changed so that her surroundings didn't seem as familiar anymore. She must have dozed off, and as such, the rest of the day went on without her.

Feeling wide awake now, she collected her swords and climbed out from under the overhang and into the water of stream. It felt warmer now that it did earlier. Once back outside, she quickly saw why. It was late afternoon. The shining sun had simply warmed the water up with it's rays. It would've been ideal water for a swim.

But she wasn't interested in a swim at the moment. She had other matters she needed to resolve. She still didn't know where she was, nor the location of home in relation to here. She could recall only very little of the battle she knew she had been, and she still didn't know where the two otters in her dream, Varon and Namur were.

But with each passing dream, she sensed more and more that they weren't in a good place.

Suppose they were in trouble. They would need her help, for she didn't know if any other creatures knew they were missing. Besides, she felt attached to the two creatures, and was beginning to suspect they were her family. Whenever she remembered something undesirable happening to them, she felt a mixture of dread, guilt, and anger rise up her throat.

But then again, she didn't know what sort of trouble they were in. All she knew was that a band of birds had captured them, and that was merely what she had learned from her last reliable memory of them. Which was clearly of an event sometime ago. She had no memory of anything else up to the point of her waking up on her back in the middle of the woods, very much alone.

Perhaps everything had worked out for the best during that gap in her memories, and she was merely overreacting. Maybe she just needed to head home and she would find them there, waiting for her, sitting around the dinner table with a hot meal all ready for her. Enthused by the idea, she turned to head upstream on some instinct that told her she could eventually find home by going this way.

But the back of her mind told her she wouldn't find the daydream she was hoping for.

And it hadn't been wrong yet.

After having taken a few steps heading upstream, she paused, thought for a moment, and then turned around and headed in the opposite direction, heading downstream. Some sixth sense this was the direction she needed to go in. This was where she would find Varon and Namur.

Or at the very least, the rest of her memories.

Dazed as she was, Zaran couldn't think well enough to acknowledge her surroundings as she was dragged away to some unknown location in her net. If she had, she would've been able to pinpoint her location the entire time and be able to find her way back presuming she escaped. She would've been able to get great chances to analyze her enemy and look for weaknesses. She could've even been planning a way to escape.

But her mind currently felt like it was stuck at the bottom of a murky stream and just couldn't work.

It was something she would live to regret.

She did have enough sense to watch Varon and Namur in the other net, being dragged along beside her, and as such, she found herself constantly checking to make sure they were okay. And for the moment, they were. Unlike Zaran, they didn't fight so much. Namur was too young to do so, and Varon probably wasn't so to protect Namur from harm. Instead, Varon was allowing himself to be dragged along, hugging Namur close to him, who had become so frightened, the youth had driven herself to tears.

Varon focused most of his attention on attempting to soothe Namur, and trying to keep her calm. But every now and then he would glace over at Zaran almost expectantly for long periods of time. He was trying to send her a silent message, but Zaran was too dazed to understand until too late. He was expecting her to do something, to come up with a plan, as she was in the better position to do so than he.

Zaran would've if she could've, but even with a clear head, she couldn't be certain she would've come up with something. To carry out the request meant escapeing. To escape Zaran would have to get out of the net. And to get out of the net she would need a blade, as the net was too think and too well made to break with anything less. She, of course, didn't have a blade, and didn't have the foggiest idea where her and Varon's sword were at among all the vermin surrounding them, if they had been taken with at all.

So she had pretty much surrendered herself for the moment as well, at least until her head managed to put itself back together. And slowly it finally did, and with a start, Zaran started thinking straight again. The first thing she did was kick herself for not getting her act together sooner, then she next took stock of her situation.

She was surrounded on all sides by large birds, namely crows, which were lugging the two nets along the ground. Bringing up the rear were a small party of toads and lizards, not numbering more than six or seven. The birds outnumbered them immensely. Both parties joined together as they were definitely put their prey, Zaran, Varon, and Namur at a disadvantage.

Zaran analyzed the vermin for weaknesses, but besides the fact that they seemed overly confident and a little disorganized, neither of which was going to do Zaran much good on her part, she couldn't find any. Thinking she had learned all she could from that, she then analyzed her surroundings. They were clearly still in Mossflower, and it was still late at night. But they had moved away from the trees and now marched along the bank of a winding stream. The night sky was also peppered with dark clouds now, with more rolling in from the east. They didn't look like storm clouds, though. They were just dark.

Didn't help with anything, though. Zaran saw she was in no better position than before, and knew that the same had to be true for Varon and Namur, otherwise Varon probably would've done something on his own by now. But even then, his attention was focused on protecting frightened little Namur. Just like Zaran was focused on protecting both of them with her life if it came to that.

Zaran worked at trying and coming up with a plan, but she started at it far too late. Because it wasn't long afterwards that they arrived at their destination. The stream turned to run past a hill, and in the large hill's base was the opening of a cavern. It was very nearly hidden from sight by a patch of thick and overgrown reedgrass, but Zaran could see it all the same. The vermin did not hesitant to drag the nets straight into the tunnel and head on down it.

In the tunnel, things didn't seem to grow much better. But Zaran did see that by going underground, her and her family's chances of surviving an escape attempt went up. The tunnel was too small and too cramped for the vermin. They wouldn't be able to fight effectively; they would all get in the way of the other. Knowing that now could be her chance, Zaran worked again to fight against her bonds once again. For the moment, her attempts were ignored.

Probably because they were in vain.

Still, Zaran tried. Her life, and more importantly, the lives of her family were in jeopardy. She needed to protect them, to save them. So she had to get out of this accused net!

But then they rounded a bend in the tunnel, and the cavern widened immensely in size until it formed a room Zaran was not going to forget anytime soon...

The memories were coming more frequently now. They came in rapid flashes, even while she was awake. She tired to focus her attention on them, but at the same time something deep down within her was trying to get her to stop. She had a good idea why. These memories were pleasant, and they were only getting worse. But she wanted to know what had happened not only to herself but her family as well. If there was any chance Varon and Namur were still alive...she wanted to know it.

She continued on downstream, setting a purposeful pace to her stride. She had a place to be. And now she knew exactly where she had to go. At some point in this stream, it was going to run past a hill, a hill she could now remember clearly. Focusing on the memory of it, she walked on, muttering to herself.

"Zaran will find this hill. I make that my vow. Zaran will find this hill and slay all within until I find Varon and Namur!"

The day wore on, the sun having long since reached it's zenith and slowly starting to sink into the west. But she wasn't worried about that. She had other things she was thinking about. Goals to accomplish. Creatures to save. And creatures to slay.

She carried a sword in either paw. In one was hers, the other was the one she was recognized, but knew wasn't her, at least not originally. At first, she didn't mind carrying the two sword, but then the combined weight of both was slowly wearing her down. The swords felt top-heavy. She wished there was some way to balance the two swords out.

Then, just was quickly as she had thought about it, she came up with a solution. Stopping, she knelt down and placed the swords carefully on the ground. Turning one around so it's point pointing in the opposite direction of it's companion, she lined the hilts together until they rested on top of each other. Tearing off a strip of fabric from her top, she used the fabric to tie the two hilts together. Satisfied with her work, she hefted up the double-bladed weapon, looked it over, then made a satisfied nod.

"Zaran did good. Mighty fine weapon I make. Easier to carry too."

That chore done, she took up the sword once again, and continued heading on down the stream to carry out her quest...

The cavern was immense. Under different circumstances, Zaran would've been in awe about the sheer size of the cave, wondering and pondering what allowed such a cavern to even exist. But the awe ended there, and transitioned straight into nightmare. The entire cavern was lit with an eerie green glow. At first, it was hard to tell where it originated, but then it seemed to come from the central feature of the cavern, which was a large lake, occupying more than half of the cavern's floor. It contained a constantly boiling liquid, heated by the heat from deep within the earth.

The rest of the cavern was filled with decay, the remains of things Zaran didn't wish to dwell upon, polluting the floor not occupied by the lake or creature. The cavern was populated mostly with birds of all the evil sorts, as well as many, many, more of the reptiles and amphibians. They gathered in groups, making an infernal din.

The cavern looked deadly in appearance, but even worse, the cavern contained a very poisonous atmosphere, so filled with sulphurous fumes, it was a wonder the inhabitants of the cavern all hadn't suffocated yet. The combination of all of this was enough to drive fear into Zaran's heart. A glance over at Varon confirmed he felt likewise, and now poor Namur was too frightened to even cry.

Their guards dragged the nets and their contents straight to the edge of the lake and deposited them there. They did not take the time to free them, to Zaran's annoyance. She had concluded that the net was the only thing holding her back. Remove the net, and there wouldn't be anything to stop her from killing these vermin. Unfortunately, they were clearly not that stupid.

Not far from where they were though, another vermin, a lizard, dropped her and Varon's sword carelessly on the ground, where they clattered noisily. So they had been brought along after all. A surge of hope rushed through Zaran's veins, but it was short lived. The two blades were too far away. She couldn't reach them. And when she tried stretching her paw out through the net holes to try and reach them anyway, her paw was slapped back each time by the nearest bird, a crow.

Zaran still tried, so finally the crow moved to block Zaran's reach further. Zaran gave the offending creature a long glare.

They seemed to be waiting for something, but Zaran didn't have the foggiest clue what. She presumed it had something to do with the boiling lake, which didn't bode well at all. It was either that, or something out on the little island that sat in the middle. In it's middle sat a statue made out of black obsidian, depicting a large raven, with some kind of snake draped around it's neck. They both had eyes at one point, which were likely to have been jewels of some kind, but they had apparently been lost at some point. All that remained were the sockets.

Regardless, the statue was very impressive.

In a very terrifying way.

All eyes were on Zaran, Varon, and Namur. The inhabitants had started a kind of odd chant, but it was the least of Zaran's worries at the moment. She watched Namur become frightened still, and Varon finally starting to loose his cool composure over their situation, and as a result, Zaran redoubled her efforts to find a way for them all to escape.

The net only proved to be as solid as ever. There was simply no way to escape it without a way to cut the rope that held the net together. Zaran tried biting into it with her teeth until they ached from the strain. Then she realized that there was a much better way to do this. The toads and lizards were all armed with sharpened bulrush spears. Sharp enough to cut through the net. She just needed to get one. A toad stood close enough for her to grab his spear, but doing so would draw attention to herself. If she was going to do this, she would have to act fast once she had the spear, and until then, just not draw attention to herself. Very carefully, she started to inch her paw towards the handle of the spear.

A large drum suddenly sounded, loud and clear. It brought a sudden moment of silence in the cave, adding to the eerie feeling the cavern contained. The apparent leader of the group that had captured Zaran and her companions then stepped forward to speak.

"Haaark!" he cried loudly, directing his voice towards the island. "We bring thee outsiders, O Korvus Skurr!"

A raven appeared on the island, probably the leader for the whole gathering in the cavern. He was unusually big for a raven, and he seemed even bigger with a live smoothsnake wrapped around his head, just like the raven depicted in the statue. It almost seemed like some kind of living crown. Zaran stared at the beast in a mixture of terror and surprise. This, like so many other things, did not bode well. She cautiously sped up her attempts to grab a hold of the toad's bulrush spear. The toad had moved during the time she had looked away, however, and had thrown off her aim. She quickly moved to adjust.

Meanwhile, the raven, Korvus Skurr, had taken flight and glided over from the island to the shore of the lake with the greatest of ease. He landed with a whoosh before the party. Zaran heard Namur whimper, and her heart went out to her child in pity. Korvus ignored the prisoners in the two nets, however, and turned his attention to the party of birds that had delivered them.

"Ah, multiple gifts from my Wytes in one night." Korvus praised. "You have done well. Show me these outsiders!"

Even though they could be clearly seen by Korvus already, the party of crows held up the two nets higher so Korvus could better see. The movement of nets jostled Zaran's attempts to seize the bulrush spear once again, her claws having very nearly wrapped themselves around the spear's base, unnoticed by the toad who wielded the spear. She bit back a curse at this, but retracted her paw regardless, knowing that with Korvus looking at her, it would be better to save the attempts to escape to later.

She was right, Korvus was looking at her and the rest of her family with criticizing eyes. The snake perched on his head moved so it could see as well, watching the trio of prisoners with a more planning and calculating look than Korvus. Zaran wondered which was really in charge, the raven or the snake. Certainly it couldn't be an alliance, at least not an even sided one.

"Riverdogs." Korvus muttered as he analyzed his prisoners. "Mates and their child, I presume."

"What do you want with us?" Varon growled, holding Namur tightly in his arms as he did so.

He was clubbed behind by one of the crows.

"You will speak only when addressed, riverdog!" Korvus reprimanded.

Zaran let out a cry of anger and anguish at this, fighting at the net holding her back. "You leave them alone, you hear me?" she cried angrily. "You leave them alone or..."

"You are in no position to be making threats!" Korvus said, rounding on Zaran. He glared at her for a long moment. "I will deal with you in a moment. First I will work with the male and the babe." he said, and then turned to Varon and Namur.

Zaran felt her stomach sink, and redoubled her efforts to escape.

Korvus glared at Varon and Namur. "Where are the Eyes of the Great Doomwyte?" he demanded.

"The what?" Varon asked, glaring back at Korvus.

"The Great Doomwyte!" Korvus said, pointing at the statue on the island with a wingtip. "Behold, the eyes! Where are they?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Varon challenged. "I've never heard of the Great Doomwyte before, much less it's eyes!"

Namur was too frightened to say anything, she merely buried her face in the fur of her father. Zaran, as she wasn't the center of focus at the moment, reached out to try and get the bulrush spear from the toad. The toad had moved yet again, to her annoyance, and the spear seemed to be just beyond her grasp. Convinced she wasn't going to be stopped by something as trivial as half an inch, however, Zaran kept trying. The toad remained oblivious to Zaran's attempts, it's attention elsewhere.

"Kraaah! This is your last chance, riverdog." Korvus spat. "Where are the Eyes of the Great Doomwyte."

Varon's only reply was a defiant stare. Korvus sighed in frustration, and glanced upward at the snake perched on his brow. The snake looked back, the two seem to be having a silent conversation. Then the snake turned to face the prisoner, seeming to be taking command.

"Hold him." she ordered the crows.

The crows used their talons to grab Varon and hold him still. Startled by the movement and helpless either way, Namur turned to watch in terror. The smoothsnake then uncoiled herself from Korvus's head just enough so her eyes could meet with Varon's. Varon stared defiantly at the snake. Namur watched the snake, her own eyes meeting with the snake's in a look of curiosity and fright. Despite very nearly getting her claws wrapped around the bottom of the spear, Zaran stopped to watch. The snake spoke suddenly and hypnotically.

"Nobeassst can lie to Sicarisssss." she hissed. "I sssseek the truth in your eyessss, let me gaze into your hidden secretsss!"

The serpent then fell silent and began moving her head in a equally hypnotic pattern while everyone watched. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then slowly, Varon's features began to go slack, the defiance and fight of before seeming to seep out of him. Namur's face went blank, her fright losing control over her. Neither seemed to be able to look away from Sicariss, even if they were physically able to.

It took Zaran a moment to realize that the snake had hypnotized them, really hypnotized them. A moment later, she realized that she herself was at risk of the same, even though her eyes did not line up with the snake's, as she was finding herself constantly fascinated with the snake's motions. Quickly shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Zaran turned and reached for the spear once again, her claws very nearly able to wrap themselves around it's handle.

Sicariss had begun to whisper something to Varon and Namur, specifically Varon. Unintelligible to the outside listeners as it was, it only added to the hypnotic effect. Varon slowly began to whisper things back in reply, his mouth barely moving. On occasion, Namur would add a comment, hypnotized as well. Finally, Sicariss broke away, leaving the two otters in their trace and turned to Korvus.

"Thessse beastssss know nothing of the eyesssss." the serpent reported. "Neither doesss the female. They are of no usssse to ussssss."

Korvus turned his back on the prisoners with a flourish. He glanced back at the crows as he did so.

"Dispose of them." he ordered.

Several things then happened at once. At that point Zaran finally wrapped her paw around the base of the spear and with a quick jerk was able to wrench it away from the stunned toad. Flipping the spear back towards her, Zaran then hooked it's sharp point into the meshing of the net, and cut through the rope holding it together, launching herself out the hole she had created with an angry yell. Twisting the spear back around, she ran it through the toad as it moved to intercept her, and then spun around to face the others, nearly knocking a neighboring crow, also surprised, into the boiling lake, and would've fallen in altogether if it didn't quickly take flight.

But Zaran was too late.

She turned around just in time for the crows to plant a kick to the backs of Varon and Namur, still in their trace, and for the two otters to topple, net and all, into the boiling lake. The screams they let loose rent the air asunder, and was joined in by Zaran's own. For one terrible moment, Zaran was rooted to the spot, completely unable to move as tears freely sprang to her eyes. A terrible sensation of grief and pain gripped her heart tightly in a vise.

All she could hear was their screams of agony, of extreme agony as the boiling water burned at their flesh, even long after they had both sunk into the depths of the water, long dead. She couldn't hear the vermin surrounding her closing in to overwhelm her, nor could she hear Korvus's wicked laughter, clearly enjoying Zaran's shock. She could only hear the screaming as the anguish shooting white hot, sharp, pains through her body.

Then, quite suddenly, the anguish transformed into blinding fury.

Zaran was moving before she even knew it. Whipping back around, she drove the bulrush spear still in her paws into the belly of a charging magpie with enough force that the spear snapped in two. Pushing the body aside, Zaran then ran out of the encirclement of vermin and to where her and Varon's swords still lay. Picking up both in either paw, Zaran then whirled around to confront the vermin surging towards her.

"Eeeezaranaaaaaa!"

The hill stood almost unsuspectingly by the bank of the stream, not giving away hardly any hints about what it hid within. In fact, it wasn't even a hill, but rather an uprising in the earth, almost a small plateau, except the edges dropped down much more gradually. It's top was covered with a large variety of trees. It seemed an innocent enough a location.

Now that she was finally here, though, she had no will to enter. The rest of her memories had come to her, to the point that except for a thing here and there that were still blank, she knew exactly what happened, especially to what had been her family.

"They're gone. All gone."

She wasn't entirely sure what to do know. Deep down, she had secretly know what she would find in her memories, that her want to rescue Varon and Namur would be in vain, but she wanted so much to save them, to have something to save. But she couldn't. The only thing of them she could ever have them was Varon's sword and whatever possessions they still had at home.

Which she still didn't have any clue where it was.

Not that she cared anymore. Home with no family would be the very place she would want to go to.

"They're gone."

She couldn't get over the shock. She wasn't sure if she should be crying, screaming, or moving on. None of them seemed very productive. They wouldn't get her anywhere. They wouldn't get rid of the pain she was feeling. Nothing would.

"Gone."

Wait. One thing would get rid of the pain.

Without even needing to think about it, the blade of one of double-bladed sword was at her throat, ready to slice. Her breathing quickening slightly, she was ready to take her life. Her life was over the moment it ended for Varon and Namur. Why should her's continue then? Some twisted idea of fate? It was pure torture to have to live like this. One stroke, one brief moment of pain as the life sapped out of her body, and it would all be over.

There was only one problem.

She couldn't bring herself to do it.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, the blade at her throat, not moving. She was trying to get her nerve up to do it. But she couldn't. She wasn't sure why. Which was just yet another thing to add to her list. But why couldn't she do it? Was she afraid? Was she just weak? Why? Her family, everything that meant everything to her was gone. She had nothing left. Did she?

And then, the answer suddenly hit her.

Revenge.

She let the blade fall from her throat, as she stared at the hill, an idea rapidly forming her mind. A look of renewed determination spread across her face, and she continued onward.

She knew what she was going to do.

A wild fury gripped Zaran like she had never felt before. Whirling the two swords in her paws like a deadly tornado, she started slaying vermin left and right in quick strokes. She hardly stopped long enough to see the look on their expressions before she moved on to the next vermin. They just kept coming towards her, though, only to be slain.

Zaran grinned a wicked grin. She wouldn't object to that.

Her first and foremost goal was to slay Korvus, and she quickly began working her way through the masses of vermin that had suddenly started pressing in on her from all directions to where the large raven stood, watching. But Korvus was no idiot. He was just a coward. As Zaran drew close, he quickly took flight and flew to the shelter of the island.

As Zaran knew of no way to reach the island short of learning to walk on water. So she turned to her next goal, which was to take down as many vermin as she could. Except she was terribly outnumbered, and the vermin weren't exactly stupid either. At least the birds weren't. They were backing away from Zaran and edging the more dispensable reptiles towards the enraged vermin.

Zaran didn't care a thing about the reptiles, as she knew it was the birds that were the real ringleaders of this twisted gathering of vermin, and tried going after them. Most simply flew out of reach as she neared them, one or two staying long enough to try and fight before bailing as they sensed the situation going out of their control. One crow managed to use it's talons to slice a long cut into Zaran middle, but that didn't slow Zaran in the slightest, and only made her angrier still. The bird was quickly slain.

Regardless, though, it was rapidly becoming clear that Zaran was soon going to be the one who was slain if she didn't get out of here quick, and the general euphoria of the rage she had at first was rapidly starting to wear off as she wore herself out. Coming to her senses somewhat, Zaran switched to her third goal. Escaping.

Seeing the tunnel she had been brought here through, Zaran made her way towards it, fighting anyone and anything that stood in her way. Once it became apparent of where she was heading, it seemed the vermin she was fighting with was more than happy to let her go. She slowly started encountering less and less resistance.

Finally, she reached the tunnel and ducked into it, leaving the nightmare of the cavern and the Doomwytes behind her. The tunnel was abandoned, and no one followed her. At least that she knew of. She didn't stick around long enough to find out. Bursting out of the tunnel's exit and into the cold water of the stream, Zaran started running blindly in the first direction thought would take her the furthest from this terrible place.

Which was straight ahead.

She ran blindly, but she ran blinder still as it was still night, and the clouds had moved in fully, completely blocking the light from both the moon and the stars, pretty much leaving Zaran with no light to see with. So she couldn't see how wounded she was from the battle, she could see where she was heading, she couldn't see if she was being chased, and she couldn't see the tree limb hanging in her way until she ran right into it.

Her head already wounded and tender from the ill-treatment she had received from the Doomwytes, she didn't even feel the blow as she was promptly knocked unconscious.

Nor will she have any recollection of it when she awoke.

Night had fallen over the forest hillside which housed the Doomwyte's domain. But on top of this hill, there was movement. Something was digging away at the hillside, riddling it with holes. But ever alert, the creature stopped digging suddenly and left. Scaling out on a popular tree that had grown askew and using it as a perch, watched the entrance to the Doomwyte domain as the usual party of crows exited the cavern for their nightly patrol.

The dark creature stayed motionless, always watching, always waiting, always planning.

"Zaran will have revenge on Korvus Skurr. I make this my vow. Zaran will slay Korvus Skurr..."