Blackfeather Woods I'm starting to notice a sound

There were strange things about the woods that didn't sit that well with Taikon. In particular, they had been warned about some kind of odd tree. For most of their time within the woods, Taikon had given the sacred tree a wide berth, if for no other reason than he didn't have any desire to discuss religion. His concerns were around Takiyok's healing and @Zephyr, although the latter had completely cut him out.
That day, it was cold, even amidst the shelter of the trees. The crows mulled about overhead, creating awful noise from their mobbing that he wanted to be rid of. He moved in a wide circle closer to the interior of the woods, intaking scents, annoyed but calm.
Perhaps he should have returned to Takiyok and Taktuq. Instead, he sniffed at the forbidden area beyond, wondering what lie there.

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He's made a mistake —

No, bigger than a mistake. Alone, he'd thought, alone is the only way. And so alone he'd gone to the tree, alone to face the weavers of fate. The Daedra. Mephala — the only one who speaks to him truly, in more than myriad whispers meant to drive him mad, mad enough to be a servant of the fates themselves. He is, now, truly —
Or at least, it feels that way.
Numb pawsteps, silent yet faintly staggering, a blind trek through the forest. Away from the tree. Away from the whispers. He can hear them now —

Return to me, my child.

A sharp intake of breath, lungs burning. He can't see, he can't see anything but darkness. He can feel the dark cloud of displeasure churning somewhere above him, Mephala's wrath.

Disobedience will not be tolerated.

His legs buckle beneath him, vision flashing red then white, then blinding golden sunlight — and then he's somewhere else. Six months in the past, face in the dirt, tasting blood and sweat and fear. Screams around him. Training time. He lost again. His opponent is looming. Fuck fuck fuck fuck —
The scene changes in an instant, an abrupt fast-forward into the next moment of significance. There's a certain horror in it. Teeth at his thighs, tearing. A scream. His own? Pain, weight on his back — wait, no —
NO — Half-scream, half-snarl, all panic. The ice-wraith lashes out with razor edges, snapping teeth and flinching movements, but he's trapped. Caged by imaginary limbs, trapped in his own mind, reliving a memory he'd thought boxed and forgotten forever. All for his disobedience.

Taikon could hear snarls coming from somewhere within. He heard panic, and instinct begged him to dive in. He remembered what Zephyr had said, and instead stayed at attention and high alert, concerned about whoever had gone to the great tree. He debated with himself for a moment on what might happen if he strode in there on his proverbial white horse and took the person away, but decided against it. He didn't know what sort of trouble he might get into if he did something like that, and losing their shelter was simply not worth it. He needed Taki to recover in safety.
Zephyr stumbled out from the darkness. Taikon wasn't used to seeing anyone so out of their mind, and at first didn't know what to do. Even though he had heard of toxic fungi that could cause one to lose their mind, he had no idea what such a thing looked like in person. So, he tried his best to make sure the silver boy was okay. Zephyr? Are you okay? He was afraid to step too close. He remembered what Zephyr had told him.
Don't talk to me. Don't touch me. Don't follow me.
But Taikon would have followed that stupid boy into fire.

Fire at the core of the wraith, eating away at his insides, swathing him in white-blue flickers. In his mind he is still stuck in the past, pinned against dirt dark and compact with dried blood, his humiliation on display for all the other captives. In the present, just as he had then, he dissolves into agonized sobs. Taikon's voice does not reach him. His snarls fade into whines, and he curls in on himself as the memory comes to its close, leaving him as he had been all those months ago. A broken shell of a wolf with a bitter, clawing ache deep in his belly and between his legs, abandoned to the elements in the wake of his destruction.

The snapping and growling reduced to something far more concerning. Zephyr began to sob. The sounds were ugly, raw, and designed to relieve the self rather than beg for some kind of attention. Immediately, Taikon moved closer to him, throwing his caution to the wind as he could simply not tolerate to see his friend in so much agony.
Zephyr... he whispered, afraid to touch him. He came within inches and lowered his head to the wraith-turned-child. He didn't know how he could help, but it seemed clear that whatever this trauma was, it was caused by that stupid tree.

He feels the presence this time, barely registers the hint of his name above the whispery din in his head. Yet Taikon does not register as an ally, but an intruder — danger in this most vulnerable moment. Zephyr looks up with another snarl, this one thin and half-hearted, more desperation than ferocity. Eyes unfocused, pupils big and far too sensitive, he barely sees the pale figure at all. For a long moment he simply stares, lips peeled back. Then the expression fades, and his head drops, slowly. He blinks once. « Go away. I don't want you here. Mephala does not want you here, » The words come out wrong, somehow, but Zephyr can't pinpoint how. He's barely aware of speaking them.

Zephyr finally seemed to be aware that he was there, acknowledging him — sort of — with a very strange snarl. Taikon took a step back, unsure if the boy had turned violent with the mind-altering substance that stemmed from the tree. The prince noticed the dilation of his eyes, but this was trained as a sign of extreme stress or anger. There were teeth showing, and Taikon lifted one of his paws as though to back away more, unsure, brow furrowed in concern.
Then, Zephyr spoke a language he recognized. He didn't understand, but he knew how to say it, and hoped the boy would respond better when he did. Je ne parle pas la langue, he answered.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: sexual assault again

The words soothe some primitive part of the wraith, though he barely registers their meaning. He relaxes visibly, pupils shrinking by a fraction, gaze drifting away from Taikon. He starts to speak, a broken mix of French and common at first. « It was a dream, I think — no, » That isn't right. A memory. I was back — I was a captive again, A slave, a possession. He starts to settle into common more easily, still occasionally slipping and correcting himself. His voice is toneless, almost robotic. We had to fight each other. I lost. And then he raped me. The word is harsh and ugly, a relatively new one in his vocabulary, but Zephyr doesn't notice it. He doesn't notice much of anything right now. He's lost in memories, thoughts of how he'd coped in those first few days, how he'd learned about what had happened to him. It was not an uncommon tragedy among the enslaved.

Zephyr seemed to relax a bit, but it didn't make Taikon feel all that much better about anything. His friend, and he was a friend regardless of whatever bullshit had passed between them, had gone from wild snarling to being curled up to being slightly more relaxed. He was a disaster. Then, he spoke in the foreign tongue again, and once more Taikon failed to glean much from the words. He switched to the Common tongue they shared. He spoke of being captive. Taikon's mind reeled.
Once, Aphrodite had divulged what Donovan had done to her. He remembered not knowing how to respond to it apart from offering his presence. This though, this was different.
He thought of Cella, and her family. By proxy, Zephyr's pain drained through the prince, who found flashing images of the enslaved and the damned from his homeland. For a moment, Taikon couldn't say anything. Pain gripped him. He didn't know what to do with it, for there could be no comfort here. He took a breath. Slow. Y-you're not captive here, he said slowly, struggling to maintain his composure.
Taikon wanted to kill whoever had done this to Zephyr. It was a feeling he remembered, the same as what he felt for Donovan. You're safe here, he said, slightly calmer, his anger stabilizing him. He put his foot back down slowly, standing before the friend that had tossed him aside, ready to give whatever he needed.

Wrong answer. The words put the tension back in his body in an instant. His gaze hardens again, vision warping, and suddenly Taikon is engulfed by flames. Bright and burning pale, gold and summer-blue, strident heat radiating from him. The movement sends the wraith crawling backward, stumbling, snapping. The flame recedes, fading to a familiar glow; light pouring from the man's eyes, iridescent plumes of pale gold fog accompanying each breath, the sun burning behind his fur, peering out through each individual strand. The wraith calms again, tempestuous in his shifts, still helpless to the forced highs and lows of the drug he'd inhaled. « You — you're burning, » His voice is full of fear and wonder, mind racing back to his childhood. He remembers this. He remembers seeing wolves this way, once. A gift, he thinks fervently, blinking, a gift from Mephala.

The prince stood there, wanting, strangely, to comfort Zephyr despite the psychosis he seemed to have fallen into. Taikon feared getting too close and risking a bite from someone influenced by the tree. Normally, he would do anything it took even for someone who had shit on him, but right now Takiyok was still recovering. She needed him to be healthy. He needed to be able to hunt and help to support her and Taktuq, else they would end up in the same situation that Taki had been two years ago.
Zephyr's eyes looked wide, but not quite frantic, almost in awe. Taikon furrowed his brow, lifting one of his paws, unsure. Confusion gripped him. He shook his head at the observation. I'm not burning, he said calmly, hoping that the reality he presented would somehow cure the stoney boy of what ailed him. He still felt angry. He had nowhere to direct it; the result was his spine the fur at the base of his tail flew up. His body prepared him for battle, but when no such thing happened, he began to shake slightly.

The words seem to snap some part of him back to reality, lucidity shining in his eyes when he blinks again. You're burning inside, He counters calmly, lifting himself slowly on shaky legs, eyes fixed on Taikon's. All he sees is that shifting light, too bright, too hot — It's wrong. You're all wrong inside — like someone else started the fire, and now you keep it burning. Why? You — you're not supposed to burn. You could stop it. The knowledge startles him, but he sees it in the light where Taikon's eyes should be, feels it in the heat radiating from him. All twisted up and burning inside — and dangerous to the creature fashioned of ice and stone.

He let loose a strained exhale, wanting to feel annoyed at all of it, wanting to redirect his anger somewhere. Why would Zephyr, or anyone do this to themselves? Who had hurt Zephyr and where were they now? Why had Zephyr pretended like he wanted nothing to do with him anymore and now was having a psychotic fit and needing help from him? What was he supposed to do?
Zephyr spoke nonsense, but his gaze had changed. Taikon frowned. Deep, hard lines formed in his expression that were tougher than sadness or even anger. There was real hurt there. He didn't know what it all meant. It probably didn't mean anything, but he nevertheless felt a heat within him, begging to break out. He wanted to scream at Zephyr and hold him close at the same time. As it was, he kept three feet glued firmly to the ground. The fourth, he kept raised as though he was about to leave.
Taikon swallowed. The saliva was thick. It tasted sweet, the way it did when he was about to throw up. I'm okay, I'm not burning, he said, though it was unclear whether he was trying to convince the psychotic boy or himself.

The light seems to brighten with the lies, fire burning hotter. Zephyr sees the truth past it all, the warm summer soul burning under his own bitter flames. Taikon is not meant to be this way — but he is, and there is nothing the wraith can do to change that. Suddenly he feels tired, too tired. He takes a shaky step forward, mind clearing further of the fog blurring his thoughts. I-I need — Rowan. Phillip. Electra. Anyone but you. Dizziness consumes him, tension tightening over his body, and he goes stiff.
And then he collapses into darkness.

@Rowan Suledin said to tag so I am tagging

Zephyr took a step forward, but Taikon could see that something was not right. His legs were shaking, and strange. The white prince opened his mouth as though to say something, afraid to have his once lover come closer. He worried that the thing he would need might be something that he wouldn't be able to give him. Taikon knew that people could get strange on certain substances, and so he prepared himself for just about any action. His fur was still standing on end, which a person might easily have mistaken for aggression had they not known his thoughts.
And then, then Zephyr's eyes started to look fuzzy again. His body stiffened, and he tried in vain to ask for something before he fell to his side. Swiftly, Taikon closed the distance he'd been keeping between them to make sure he was still breathing. He...was, sort of.
His breathing hastened, faster than was normal, way faster. His legs began to flail wildly as though Zephyr had no control of his own body. Taikon could see all of his teeth, tongue thrown out of his mouth, his body seizing in terrible, fierce convulsions. He had no idea what to do. He found himself panicking, and at first just stood there, out of body, his own mouth open and staring at his friend.
Tears were already welling and Zephyr was crying out in crazed, coyote wails as though in terrible pain, long, harsh, screaming. Unable to do anything else, Taikon raised his head and howled urgently, desperately seeking medical aid from anyone in the area. The flailing and gagging and noise seemed to last forever. Taikon was powerless. But he couldn't leave him.

It all happens rather quickly, though Zephyr is unaware of anything happening at all. For him, it's simply a quick blink out of consciousness, a momentary commercial break. It's already fading by the time his eyes blink open, sharp silver ice focusing on Taikon even before he takes his first conscious breath. He relaxes, shifting slowly into a more natural position, legs shaky and uncooperative. He tries to speak, but that doesn't work. Standing doesn't work either — not even close. His limbs simply refuse. He tastes blood, tongue swiping lethargically over his muzzle again and again as he gives up on his attempt at standing and sinks back down to the ground.
And through all of it, he feels not a single hint of distress. No — he'd heard something in those brief blissful moments of darkness. Something beautiful, unforgettable, a sacred secret. He feels enlightened.

A howl rung through the woods.
Panic. Fear.
It was a newcomer.
What was happening in Mephala's Darkness?

He spurred into a quick lope, aiming to arrive at the source of the howl as quick as possible, all the while uttering his prayer.
"Mephala...protect those..in your darkest protection."
Stone swooped low, angling towards where Takion was.
Sounds of pain and death rose from the area. Not tonight Sithis. Please.
He slowed - not by much though, just enough to not blunder into Takion - and his eyes rested on the form of Zephyr. Struggling.
"Zeph," his heart raced faster than it had during his run here.

Was it the tree? Had he spent too long in its effects without Rowan knowing?
He moved in as he collapsed. There were no more screams.
Rowan lowered his muzzle to Zephyr, glancing to a visibly distressed Takion.
"What happened?"
Sithis clutched him.

Powerless he stood there. Powerless he watched as Zephyr seized, his friend flailing and shaking while Taikon remained breathless and open-mouthed. He stood close, bent beside him as though somehow his warmth might help. He waited for help. The attack was over almost as quickly as it had started. The shaking slowed and Zephyr tried to stand. It looked like he might have been his tongue. Help came in the form of Rowan. He leaned in close to the silver boy, and Taikon stepped back, as though afraid. Taikon's breath had restarted at some point, and somehow there were tears welling over noiselessly as he shook his head, struggling to make words in reply. H-he.. He swallowed.
A breath in. He came stumbling out from the tree... He was talking nonsense, I don't know. I tried to calm him down - I tried, it, he just..started shaking. Flailing. I think he bit his tongue, Taikon stammered, out of his element, scared that Rowan would somehow think that Taikon had done this to him.

Thought returns to him in jagged shards, clipped fragments of observations like an old flickering reel of film. He blinks, noting Rowan's sudden presence. Words. Distress coloring the air around him. It feels out of place. His co-leader's proximity inspires an immediate reaction; the wraith leans forward and into dark fur, seeking to bury his face into it. Rowan, Zephyr manages, a little slurred with fatigue. He fights through the fog, grasping for more words. The tree — Mephala... we should... talk. Later. It's so hard to think, and no matter how hard he tries, he still cannot make his limbs work the way he wants them to. I'm — I'm okay. He pulls away to look at Taikon, offering a warm yet mournful glance, gratitude and guilt rolled into one. The real weight of the man's presence here is finally sinking in, and Zephyr is realizing that he can't deny his place in his life anymore. It is a bitter one, full of holes he'll always ache to fill, but it is set in stone now. The wraith only wishes it'd been solidified some other way.

The tree.
The tree.
Zephyr leaned in close to Rowan's thick, winter ruff, and Takion explained with stuttering shock.
Rowan was not a medic. Far from it, really. He'd not known this to happen after being with the tree.
Sithis tried to take him.
The boy held his silvered friend close, closing his eyes. He sighed, a soft plume of warmth left his lips.

It seems Zephyr had recovered mostly, apart from their strength, which might be because of the Daedra. They sucked his strength.
He gave Takion a curt not. "Zeph, get some sleep." He looked to them, eyes earnest.
"I'll talk to you in the morning, yes." A pause. He needed reassurance. He tilted his eyes to Takion, then back to Zephyr.
"Do you need someone to stay with you?"
He didn't want them to be scared in his woods.

It was strange. Scared, dumbfounded, as Zephyr came out of his trance he sought only to bury himself in the comfort of the dark, chocolated-coated other. Rowan who spoke in disturbed riddles and religious sound bytes. Rowan who was only a boy, like Zephyr. They seemed to fit more together than she he and Taikon ever had. Selfishly, Taikon looked on, wishing, desperately, strangely, that the grey creature might seek him for comfort. He blinked and looked down and away, ashamed of these thoughts.
Tai felt Zephyr's cold gaze upon him, and he glanced toward him, afraid of something chastising or dismissive. Rowan also stole a glance his way, and Taikon looked toward Zephyr with real concern and anxiety.
Of course, even if Zephyr called for him, he could not leave Takiyok and Taktuq alone. They needed him more... Maybe. He wanted to ask Rowan what had happened, since he was the only lucid person around, but the leader had not seen the event. He didn't know. Taikon was alone.