Leroux was causing trouble, to begin with. Of that there could be no doubt, for in the swish and glisten of that red tail there lay such a mischievous bent that I can say without reproach that Leroux was up to something, and that the something that they were getting up to was absolutely troublesome in its nature.
You must understand that this would come as no surprise, to any who knew the creature. They were of a sort to play pranks, to twist words; to muddle and to meddle, and to laugh at the end of it all, when things came out six-ways across and fell in a heap. And if Leroux was the one to be caught in the middle of that tangle, why, then their laughter would be the loudest and longest of all. For I cannot help but emphasize that Leroux was a causer of trouble, and this you must keep in mind, or else the events that are to come will not bring you to the wonder that they might otherwise.
The corner around which Leroux currently skulked was in the care of Luminescence, that finest of young frogs; the corner and the lintel were in her care, and the windows and the sash as well, for this was her house, where she lived amongst the chaos and the chorus of her score-and-four siblings, which many of you will know is more than enough to be trouble all on its own. Lumi being the eldest, and tasked with the keeping and feeding of that familial horde, was kept busy from the dawn until the glow of fireflies blinked and fluttered with the coming of night. She was as generous as Leroux was mischief-bound, and I can say only that her name was well earned, for she shone with the light of self-surety and merriment, against rain or storm or the words blown about by any others. And some few had been, I will tell you - but that is a tale for another time.
I was speaking of Lumi, and of Leroux, and now if you looked through the window into the cheerful warmth of that home you would see another there, an alligator by the admirable name of Croquese. Although you would be forgiven to think her name something else, for the cries of “Auntie, auntie!” that echoed through the place! By Auntie was she known, the traveling healer of the Morel Marshlands, who some spoke of in hushed tones. But today there was no hushing the hubbub, the festive bedlam at the close of the year. For it was Lumeanar, and sickness had been quite driven from the home by cheerful spirit, and Auntie Croq was there as a welcome guest, of Lumi and of her village besides. Let us go out into it, and see it through our own eyes!
It was the eve of Lumeanar, and the Morel Marshes were not bedecked in snow, as the regions to the north of the Isles might be. White was not the color of the season in the south, but green; green amongst the weeds and rushes and trailing vines, green of the towering cypress and of the bayou below. And green were the decorations strung from every level of Lumi’s village, nestled cozily amidst the banks and shallows of one of uncountable branches of the Luna River. Banners of yellow-green, of emerald and chartreuse, fluttered from homes built high above the floodline, while den and burrow on the waterside were strung with garlands braided in mint and lime and every shade of verdure, until you might very well mistake the season for the height of summer. And I would not blame you for thinking Arda’s sunshine had been stolen, the way the whole of the place glowed. Honey-lamps and mushroom garland shone bright in afternoon shadow, and everywhere about there were lanterns lit and swampfire beacons tied carefully to doorways and dock-corners. And if you asked the folk of the swamps they’d laugh and cheerfully talk of light enough to shine against cold that the south had not known since long and long ago, a time when winter spirits, away in the mists, had made off with the sun itself to sink into the depths of the Isles below. And they would chuckle again, and share a warm mug with you, dear reader.
But let us return once again to Leroux, the red of their skin bright as a berry against the moss and dripping greenery. Leroux who, I will say once more, was causing trouble; for under one arm was gripped tightly a bundle wrapped in leaves, upon which mushrooms had been gaily painted in bright colors. It was a present, and we can guess by their current holder’s sneaking, a present that did not belong to them. And indeed through the window they overheard young Lumi calling, “Oh Ms. Croquese, weren’t we expectin’ another? I thought to see your crimson shadow, given that you come from the Saffron docks to join us today.”
Croquese heaved a sigh which came from the very tip of her tail. “Leroux,” she began in severe tones, “was late. An’ far be it from me ta’ be Twist-Tongue’s keeper, if they’ve a mind to set me out of sorts. They can find their own way, if they be so inclined.”
Have I mentioned that Lumi was a kind and gentle soul? For she said, “Aww, but they’s sure as sprouting to get lost, they ain’t one to stray far from the ‘groves.”
Croquese merely grunted at that, and Leroux indulged in a quiet chuckle. “Lost!” they said beneath their breath. “Ol’ Twist-Tongue ain’t nevah lost, not even where I seldom go! An’ she don’ least suspect that Leroux slipped out early-like, the better to beat her here so’s I could get my claws on this lil’ bauble.” And at this the salamander jostled the present held fast under one arm, and their eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now’s I’ll jus’ pop this out inta the marsh aways, an’ fetch up somethin’ more appealin’ than Lil’ Lumi’s lil’ guest gift. For ain’ nobody this side o’ the Isles to match the shine o’ scale, the gleam o’ teeth on Croquese! Such a fine creature deserves only the best, an’ the best is the only way Leroux know how to be!”
And so Leroux slipped away quick as a wink into the deepening mists of the late afternoon, and made their way out of the village into the muck and murmur of the bayou proper. Here the moss hung low from the branches of the cypress, and mushrooms sprung from their knees to glow eerily. Leroux swam steadily, the bounty of their pilfering tucked safely away in a waxed pouch, and to their credit only paused once or twice in uncertainty amidst the rushes and swampweed, for in truth the depths of the marshes set them ill at ease. They were a creature of the docks, the hustle and bustle of the Saffron Spore trade posts, and the quiet buzzed in their head a bit. But at last they came to a place they knew of from just that morning, a grassy tuft above the flood on which stood a towering cypress stump, the rest of which had disappeared in some past calamity. And here it was that Leroux wormed their way into the hollow of the ancient wood, where waiting for them was a package.
Not just a package, for I have failed to do justice to it with such plain language. To say that it glittered would not go amiss, nor would the use of words such as “ostentatious” or “ornamented”. It stood nearly as tall as Leroux themselves, wrapped in mushroom-hide dyed in greens and yellows. Golden baubles dangled from the sides and the edges, the work of hours of meticulous haggling on the salamander’s part, honeyed words parting northern merchants from the treasures they had brought south for a song. Atop it all sat Leroux’s pride; a froth of lace and ribbon that gleamed a rich and extravagant purple, obtained at special request by their good friend Rhys. They grinned at the memory of her accustomed snort of refusal to reveal her favorite sources, and the fine evening of drink and laughter that had followed.
“Now this, this be a gift!” Leroux crowed. “A fine gift indeed fo’ the likes o’ the rarest gem in all the swamps! How her eyes will glow, brighter than all the lamps there in tha’ lil’ town, when I come through the door!” And repeating such murmurings as they went, it was a matter of moments for Leroux to wriggle the great gift from its hiding place into the rowboat that they had left, secure in the middle of a stand of rushes. “Aaaah Leroux, this time you have outdone yourself!”
“Pride always was your way, you red-skinned word wiggler.”
Leroux started at that, and peered about. The reeds before them rustled, and then bent as if some great thing came towards the grassy isle. The salamander took a shuffling step backwards, only to yelp at the sudden appearance of a blackbird dragging itself up and out of the muck, vines twisted tight about its wings and snagging with every step. Onward it came, until Leroux gave a bark of recognition.
“Why Lucien! My most charmin’ friend, I never fancied to see you out here like this, and most especially when you’ve been to the Isles these three years past. What trick have you played us all, to be here still?”
“No trick,” said the blackbird, and the vines about him rustled as he shook himself, and the red of his shoulders seemed almost mesmerizing to Leroux’s eyes. “To the Isles I have gone, and to the Isles I must return, after I have given you the words I have been told to give.”
Leroux chuckled uncomfortably, cocking their head to one side. “You expect me to go on believin’ that, with yours the most silver beak this side of the marshes? Why, you taught me most all I know!”
“Indeed I did, so hear my words once more, and listen well,” the blackbird Lucien replied, and hopped closer. “You have caught the attention of the spirits this Lumeanar’s eve, Twist-Tongue, and they mean to guide you from your current course. You turned away once before, and now you must do so again!”
“What business could the spirits of the day have with me, ol’ friend, when here I am, giving gifts of such magnificence?” Leroux laughed and gestured to the gleaming present with their tail. “They should be thankin’ Leroux, to be bringing such grace and charm to Lumeanar!”
Lucien only hopped closer, and spoke. “You shall be visited by three, Leroux. Heed their words, or this may be the last Lumeanar you have to treasure!”
In a blink Lucien had vanished, as if the vines all about them had pulled them into the hungry earth. Leroux shook their head, muttering something about marsh gases. “I know my way about, so does Leroux! Spend your merry-making helping some other creature, for I have presents to deliver!”
Casting off, they took up a stout pole and pushed their way back into the gloom of the swamps. They had not gone far before the mists swirled close about them once again, and the trees began to all look much the same. Leroux muttered under their breath, “Aaah now, it was this way… I think? No, definitely it was this way!”
Shaking their head, Leroux poled onward, holding themselves taller. They began to whistle jauntily, as if daring the marsh to deny them, and so only jumped a little when a voice piped from the reeds.
“You don’t know the way,” it said.
“Wha? Who goes?” cried Leroux, so startled that they dropped their pole. A light shone before them on the instant, a lantern bobbing in the dimness. It was held by a young egret, clutched in one leg tucked beneath it while the youth stood upon the other. Leroux went to speak once more, but for a rare time the tongue in their mouth stilled to see the youthful bird’s eyes glowed, pale and soft, the same as the lantern they held.
“You don’t know the way, do you?” the egret repeated. It hopped closer still.
“Spirit,” Leroux breathed. “Aaah, good lad, sweet lad, you might jus’ have the right of it. Won’ you be so kin’ as to guide ol’ Leroux then?”
The young egret cocked its head to one side, and moths fluttered about it. “You would have me show you?” it asked. “Very well. Come, then.” And off it hopped into the swamp, the lantern light bobbing through the humid air. Leroux retrieved the pole and followed after. “Thank you, spirit,” they called, “for aidin’ this humble dock-hand.” There was nothing but silence, and the light ahead stopped. Leroux peered forward. “Spirit?”
The light shone brighter, and from the mist stepped a face that the salamander had not seen for many a season. Standing tall loomed an otter, fur silver and sleek, long whiskers quivering in anger. Leroux gasped aloud as the vision barked loudly, “LEROUX! COME HERE!”
“Elder Whetstone,” breathed Leroux, but even as they spoke another voice rang clearly from behind them.
“Comin’, Elder!” And skulking out of the past came Leroux themselves, a bare youth, and tumbled to a stop at the otter’s feet. “I’s here, Elder, an’ never you mind anythin’ you might ‘ave heard abou-”
“Still yourself, child!” Elder Whetstone spoke, his face a stern mask. “You’ve done it this time, Leroux. That tongue of yours has tangled itself further than even you can talk your way out of!” His whiskers shook as he spoke. “You’re fortunate that they found little Beauregard, before the swamp took them.”
“See, the lil’ one’s fine and dan-”
“Enough! This is no longer up to me,” roared the elder. “You will stand before the council, the community, the Isles itself! And they shall judge you, and decide. Service, or…”
“Or?” dared the vision of Leroux’s youth, and their elder self replied in echo of the elder otter before them.
“Exile,” they both intoned as one; the present salamander in a tone much apart from the condescension that echoed to them from the past. “Oh, spirit, spirit, show me not this thing, fo’ livin’ through it once was enough for Leroux!”
Their tail lashed and coiled in the memory of their shame, to have to stand before the faces of all the docks and beg them not to send away Leroux to the cold, cold north. They recalled every detail, every speck of dust that hung in the air and the smell of tide and fish and emotions, hot and humid in the meeting place. And even as their memory bloomed so too did the scene before them change, until there before them was the place, the time. Leroux saw their former self, tiny before the crowd that squawked and barked and chattered until stepped forward at the last Elder Whetstone, eyes hard as flint, to give the sentence.
“Service it is, and glad you should be for it, Leroux! I doubt that skin of yours could survive the Plateau, and so I’ll see you at dawn, and not a word otherwise. Consider that your first act of generosity!”
The vision faded then, and left Leroux cringing in their little boat, drifting in the slow current. Their eyes moved back, forth, strangely unable to come to rest upon the colorful gift which sat so proudly in the hull of their craft. Looking in every way but one, they took up their pole once more, pushing further on in the direction they thought most likely to bring the village to view. But the trees pressed close, and the mushroom lights paled and grew dim with mossy coverings. Leroux’s hands gripped the pole tightly, knowing full well that they had never seen this place before. At a loss for what to do otherwise, they continued to pole, and ahead spread the branches of a great black gum, gnarled and dead and bent against the darkening sky. The boat floated ever closer, the heart in Leroux’s chest sounding loud enough to deafen them, and when enormous black wings snapped open to cast their shadow, the salamander shrieked aloud in fright.
“Mercy! Mercy!” The shadow descended upon them regardless of their cries, and darkness became feathers, and talons, and a hooked beak and piercing eye above, until it was a turkey vulture that perched there on the bow of Leroux’s little craft. Oh, it was a large and ashen black creature, with one eye closed shut with scars in an ugly way and an air of deep foreboding. It would come as a shock to you or me that such a small craft could support its weight; and Leroux might also have wondered this, if they had any mind that was not screwed up tight with fear.
“Oh spirit, for I know tha’ is what you mus’ be! Oh mercy, ‘ave mercy on little Twist-Tongue, an’ show them how to get home!”
The naked, wrinkled head loomed down above them, and croaked roughly. “Ssssecond am I. You wissssh to know the waaaaaay?”
Leroux balked, their mind racing. “Anythin’! Oh, but what I would give, spirit - you jus’ wait, Leroux will fetch you all manner of shiny things, just don’t leave me lost an’ wanderin’ these marshes! Will you take me back, spirit? Oh please, take me back to my friends!”
The creature’s head tilted far, far to one side, until Leroux quivered in fright that it might twist off completely, and fall into the boat with a plop to stare at them with cold and sightless eyes. “Taaaaake!” it croaked, loud and long. “I will taaaaake youuuuuu.” And the opening of its wings was like the coming of night itself, and it leapt for Leroux, who fell back into the boat with a strangled cry and shut their eyes tight, ready to feel the great talons grab and lift and tear. It may come as a shock to you, as much as it did Leroux, when they felt nothing but the wind on their damp skin, and the prickle of foreboding. It was a nervousness and caution that they peeked beyond their eyelids, to get a sense of what new wonder had been done to them.
The boat floated, no longer in a swamp, but upon a black and lapping expanse of water, where tiny wavelets rocked it gently but without comfort in the salty air. About them lurked and threatened a solemn ruin, buildings that towered so high that the salamander was made to crane back their head, and arch their back to look upon the whole of them. Each seemed made of smooth, unblemished rock, as if the ground itself had been shoved rudely upward to form a forest of awful spires, which curved to either side like misshapen teeth set into a lower jaw. Throughout those dark spires glittered tiny lights, like stars fallen to earth, and shadows moved before them. Creatures, although Leroux beheld only shapes and silhouettes in the gloom. The place gave such an air of scurrying energy, of fruitless purpose which rolled over the tiny boat like a foul mist, that you would have shivered in your skin to be rid of it.
“Oh spirit! What is this vision you ‘ave brought me to see?” Leroux’s tail curled inward, and they shivered into the hull against the chill of the night air. They received no answer, beyond the slap of waves against the hull, which became the shuffling of feet, the padding of paws and the clicking of claws. Leroux found themselves once more transported, standing now in a strange place beneath the looming stone towers. The shadows were long, cast from a flickering fire set into an odd barrel of iron. Let us go and warm our hands about it, and there see several creatures huddled, paws outstretched, soaking in the warmth of the meager flames.
A muskrat shivered, pulling a scarf closer. “Not much of a holiday, this year. They can’t be takin’ much more of us, or else we’ll go an’ join the Isles to fade together into nothin’.”
“Hush,” said a taller shape, and a ursine face peered from the gloom. “Don’t talk of the land out loud, or someone may hear. You know how they’ve been, lately.”
“Let ‘em hear,” said the muskrat as the bear leaned in closer to the flames. “The constables can’t stop folks from noticin’ something’s up, with the Forest and the rest of the north. The land ain’t right here anymore. There’s plenty of talk of heading south, leavin’ the City to its own mess.”
The bear grunted. “South, pah. Ain’t nothing for miles but the mines and the mountains. And the east is barely passable anymore, they say. The trees keep growing, as fast as they can harvest the timber.”
“So we go by water,” the muskrat replied. “I know a cousin with a boat who’ll take us.”
Leroux stepped forward, a question on their tongue, but the scene whirled around them like leaves caught in a current, and they were swept away. Around and around they went, color and shadow all about them, until when they were sure they could take no more they landed shivering in a bank of snow. Picking themselves upright, they found themselves at the back of a crowd of creatures that stood before a makeshift platform, signs waving in the frost-scented air. Before and around them towered mountain peaks that shut out the sky, and from which echoed back the mutterings and rantings of the crowd. Leroux spotted odd pipes spreading out across the mountain crags, like vines or roots that had petrified in the cold.
A wolf stood on hind legs behind a lectern made of scraps of wood, raising a paw skyward in furious declaration. “And will we allow this ransacking of our home to continue? Will we allow the very blood of the Isles to be taken, to fuel our greed and selfish desire for comfort?! I say no, for you see the death and ruin it brings! The Forest grows wild and tangled, and we’ve all heard the stories of what comes out of it. Black and twisted things! The farms and plains grow barren, and creatures starve in the streets! Will we allow those in charge to continue to take, until nothing remains of our home? What say you, children of the Isles? What say you?!”
And as the howl went up from the creatures before Leroux the mountains themselves seemed to shudder in answer, and the land rumbled ominously. “The Isles speak!” cried the wolf, as screams tore through the crowd and the whole world seemed to shake. Pipes burst from the ground, spewing a black liquid that burned Leroux’s nostrils, and the entirety of the mountain before them seemed to crumble as some enormous power tore it apart from within. Snow swirled around them all as dust and rock were hurled skyward, and Leroux pleaded as the world shook itself apart.
“No more, spirit! Take me, take me away from this place! Oh have pity on Twist-Tongue Leroux, an’ take me back to my home and the Isles! Don’t go showin’ me anymore of this!”
A figure came forward from the swirling mists, and when it lunged for them Leroux cowered and screamed just as you or I might, to be set upon by some new specter. They fell into a tangle of body and limbs in the snow, but the snow was not cold, and nor was it soft and forgiving, but hard and rough on their skin. Thrashing, Leroux warded off the terrible thing which crowded close above them, and they panted, “Oh begone, spirit! Oh you might be the third, but ol’ Leroux ain’t got a third in them to see! Bring me back, spirit, oh say you’ll bring me back home, an’ I’ll give back what I took, I will, an’ never take anything again!” And they cringed and moaned in such a way, and were like to continue, if the shape above them hadn’t replied.
“Don’t know what you might be goin’ on about, as I ain’t seen you once this light, much less for a second or third time. You stop that right now, Twist-Tongue, or else I won’t be helpin’ you back to Lumi’s. Quite the fool you’ve made yo’self, getting lost out here, an no mistake.” And Auntie Croquese - for it was Auntie Croquese, fixed Leroux with such a look that the salamander shook and sat up suddenly. Here was their boat, and it was just as they recalled it! And here were the marshes, and the fireflies dancing in the evening air, and cypress towered around them instead of mountains and strange towers. Here was the world they knew, and the sun was only just touching the horizon, off among the trees. And here was Auntie Croquese, staring down at them with such an expression that Leroux was quite taken away with exuberance.
“Oh lovely Croquese, most lovely Auntie, how wonderful to see your face again! Oh, oh, the spirits came to Leroux, they did, an’ showed me such things. I am a changed salamander, and no mistakin’ it! I’ll come with you to Lumi’s, yes, of course! But… there should have been a third, so ol’ Lucien said.”
“I don’t know what you might be talkin’ about, you scoundrel, but I ain’t no spirit.” Croquese made a grumpy noise, and her tail churned the water. “You got yo’self all turned topsy in the marshes, is all. Let’s get you back to the house, you bag o’ wind in a tiny red stocking, before we give Lumi cause to concern herself.”
With that she lashed a stout rope to Leroux’s boat and set off, tugging them through the swamps like a fish on a line. Leroux settled themselves deep into the hull, and stared at the great gift set before them. The voices of the past, the strangeness that had been shown to them, played over and over again in their mind, and they wondered that all of it had occurred in a mere span of hours. “Aaah, but them spirits can do many a thing, whatever they might be wantin’,” he mused quietly to the passing cypress branches. “And a fool Leroux may be, but not so foolish as to fail to heed them. This gift may not be meant for Croquese, but then what can be done to make amends?”
And such it was that the two made their way back through the swamp, to the village all bedecked and lit with festive cheer as the light dimmed that Lumeanar’s Eve. And to Leroux’s eye the banners flapped louder, and the lanterns gleamed brighter, and the laughter and cheer that spilled from the door of the house the louder for what they had seen that evening, and their heart swelled and soared that they had not had cause to miss it.
“I found this foolish creature goin’ in circles in the mossy patch of the cypress stand,” announced Croquese, as they entered. “Glad they were to find them, too, so’s they didn’t miss your cookin’, Luminesence.”
“And I bring gifts! For you all!” said Leroux suddenly, and the grin they offered up to the room would have fooled many a creature, and did so Lumi and her kin. Auntie Croquese only shook her head and rolled her eyes, and if the corner of her mouth smirked a bit, why reader, I won’t be the one to tell of it. But Leroux was good to their word, as good as the gold on the great present they had brought, and they shared at once with all of Lumi’s many siblings the multi-hued bounty. The young ones fell upon it in a frenzy, until it seemed that each little froglet was a score themselves, pulling out trinkets and treasures that were clutched fast in tiny arms. Toasts and praise were heaped upon Leroux, who sat beaming and full up with grateful feelings in the center of the throng. And don’t fear, as you might have already, for Lumi’s present to Croquese! For that wily old salamander returned it with a casual remark of a late delivery from the docks, which had been the cause of their delay in traveling. And if Croquese’s eyebrow was raised, still she laughed along with the rest of the throng at Leroux’s cheerful antics.
Later in the evening, when the little ones had been mostly put to bed and Lumi had busied herself in the kitchen with the dishes, Croquese came upon Leroux sitting comfortably by the fire, and she settled down next to them. The salamander cleared their throat softly, and hummed and hawed a moment before speaking. “Forgive me, my darlin’ Croquese, that I didn’t bring you a gift for this Lumeanar eve. I was a mite preoccupied, what with the gift for the lil’ ones.”
Auntie Croquese chuckled softly at that, in something like surprise. “Why you scoundrel, what’ you goin’ on about? There ain’t no need to go about learning humbleness now, after going through the trouble to sneak this on into my bag.” She reached to one side, and brought forth then a book bound in freshly tanned mushroom-hide a rich and pleasant brown. Throwing it open, she grinned with all her teeth down at the crisp, blank pages, and the splash of color from a slender purple ribbon. “I can’t for the life o’ me figure how you knew mah favorite color, but you’ve mah thanks and then some.” And if Leroux was surprised down to the depths of their bones, they hid it away in a wink and a laugh and a glance out the window as three pairs of wings could just be seen over the darkened marshlands.
“Well I’m surely glad to see you so tickled by it, Croquese my friend. That’s gift enough for me, and for both of us a most lovely Lumeanar!”