63. The Caves of Insecurity

The whispery hiss of rain filled Nightwood Valley today. Sitting comfortably on one of Skip's living room couches, Deon sipped hot tea as he stared out the window and observed the heavy storm. He was relieved he wasn't caught in it anymore.

As Skip had promised during their hours of team coordination practice the day before, he made Deon and Skrili jog back to the dreaded cliff with him this morning—even despite the atrocious weather. Deon felt they were lucky to have made it back with no other ailments but wetness; he'd almost slipped countless times, and very well could have fallen off the cliff.

He owed it to the automatic state his body had once again entered once the fog had closed in.

As expected by now, his visions were the same: one where his family condemned and disowned him for leaving Tailpiece, and the other where he had no choice but to witness Skrili holding her dead brother, then a dead Lammy.

Despite the predictability, it didn't make the experience any easier.

Skrili emerged from the bathroom down the hall wrapped in a thick robe matching the one Skip had lent Deon. When she entered the living room and their eyes met, they both looked off and Deon tried to pretend nothing had just happened.

That weird feeling had grown even stronger since yesterday. Every time Deon looked at her, that mysterious—and oddly mesmeric—aura returned.

Playing it off, Deon raised her cup of tea from Skip. Skrili joined him on the couch and accepted the steaming drink. They both gazed out the window.

"That sucked," Deon said.

Skrili puffed a single laugh.

"So," she started after a while, "we're supposed to talk about our visions."

"Yep," said Deon.

"And…help each other figure them out," she added.

"Yeah…"

Skrili turned to face him. "Your family shunned you," she recalled. "What exactly did they say? What did you feel?"

Deon saw the intent in her focused purple eyes.

Huh…she's actually trying to connect. I guess we're doing this, then. Better not let it go to waste, he noticed.

He recounted his first vision for her again, this time, in much more vivid detail. Having experienced it three times now, everything was fresh on his mind.

But even still, he found himself leaving out his second vision—the one that matched hers.

He simply couldn't address it.

Or accept it.

After completing his explanation, he watched Skrili ponder to herself. When she appeared to muster a follow-up question, it wasn't at all what Deon was expecting. In fact, it seemed completely trivial.

"What does Savannah mean to you in all of this?" she asked.

"Huh? My ex?"

"Yes."

Deon scratched his head in uncertainty. "Uh…I mean, she was there, but she wasn't really involved in it."

"Why do you think she was there, then?"

"No offense, but do we really need to focus on…" Deon stopped himself when his mind ran through the vision's events once more.

Why WAS she there? he realized.

"Well…she was the only person who knew I wanted to run away from Tailpiece, until Lammy found out," he said. "Actually, Savannah and I found the edge of the village together. Our original plan, when we were still dating, was to run away together."

"So she was supportive of that choice," Skrili said.

Deon nodded. "Even after she dumped me, I still got the vibe that she thought I should go for it. Until Lammy caught me trying to leave, she was the only one who would've encouraged it. So then…in my vision, why is she there with everyone, calling me out for it? That doesn't make any sense."

They both sipped their tea ponderingly.

"What made you focus on Savannah, anyway?" Deon wondered.

"You said she's always distant and looking away when she appears, while everyone else is staring at you," Skrili explained. "And, her yellow dress is the only color in the vision. She stands out."

"You think there's a reason?"

"I think next time, you should focus on her," Skrili suggested. "Try talking to her. Maybe she's there to teach you something."

"Huh," uttered Deon. "Hey, you're good at this."

Skrili shrugged. "I've had a lot of fears," she said quietly.

Deon recalled the way Skrili explained her first vision the other day: she saw herself lying down injured, and then he, Pang, and Phillip were lying there, too. But they all helped each other stand and laughed together.

Then everyone disappeared but Skrili, and she watched herself fall back down.

Deon realized it was now his turn to help her.

"In your vision, why do you think you end up all alone?" he asked her. "Why do me, Pang, and Phillip vanish?"

Skrili returned her gaze out the window. "Because that's how life is," she uttered. "Everyone leaves eventually."

"Really? I don't plan on going anywhere—you can take that as a good or bad thing," Deon said with a laugh. "And it seems like you won Pang back into your life."

But Skrili's somber stare was unwavering. "But that doesn't change how life works," she said. "One way or another, even if they don't want to, people disappear from our lives. Our differences make us either chase each other away, or repel each other. And if our differences don't, something else does. That's just reality."

Dang…that's a downer, Deon thought. But given the small peeks Skrili had offered into her past so far, he could see why she'd say that. Between her past relationships, her brother, and Pang for a while, loss seemed commonplace in her life so far.

"So losing people, or repelling them away…that's what you're afraid of?" he asked.

"It's just what I know," Skrili said back.

"But…these visions are about our fears, so…"

When Skrili stopped responding, Deon realized he wasn't nearly as good at this as her. He simply didn't know how to relate, despite trying to. All his life, he'd never truly been alone. Nobody close to him had ever really left, disappeared, or even died. He didn't know loss.

"We'll figure this out," Deon promised. "Like I said, I'm not going anywhere. I know you've been through a lot of things, but that won't scare me away. Do you believe me?"

Skrili remained silent, and Deon felt is handle on the conversation continuing to slip away.

"Look," he tried as a last resort, "I really mean it—"

"Hey guys! Can you come help me with something?" came Skip's muffled voice.

They both checked around the house, but didn't see Skip. Then, Skrili caught sight of him out in the yard, once again getting soaked.

"He's outside?! Why?" Deon exclaimed.

"We'd better go out there," Skrili figured.

While she hurried to the bathroom to get dressed, Deon imagined fresh clothes on, plus a hooded jacket. He imagined another for Skrili—adjusting the size so it wouldn't be as terrible as his past attempt—and handed it to her as she returned.

The instant they opened the door, the harsh winds forced a splash of rain into the entrance. The duo rushed to step outside, with vain attempts to shield their faces in their hoods.

Skip stood over by the side of the house, observing a tree bent out of shape—even for the strange trees in this area. It was buckling underneath the increasing wind, one of its largest branches leaning right over his house. While much of the cabin was encased safely within the rocky hill, at this angle, the branch could crash through the front wall if it snapped.

"Deon: imagine something to saw the branch off, and then Skrili and I can kick it out of the way!" Skip planned over the growling storm.

"Right!" called Deon.

But then an intense gust swooped down, almost knocking them all over.

Skip looked to the sky. "Okay…that might not work out," he realized. "On the bright side, this will be a perfect training exercise! I don't run into this with teams very often."

"What? Moving a branch?" Deon questioned.

"No," said Skip, still observing the air. "This."

The sheer pressure made Deon's hearing go dull. A blast of air pounded into him, scooping him right off his feet and into the air. Everything was too dark and frantic to process as he flipped uncontrollably.

"WHAT THE HECK?!?!" Deon bellowed.

He slammed his eyes shut as he plowed through thin branches, spinning through the air. Every time he thought the gust was over, he would feel it violently suck him higher.

The wind current was taking him away.

After what must have been minutes, the wind ceased instantaneously: all sound returned, and even the rain was totally gone. The pull of gravity overcame Deon as he freefell towards an unknown surface, from an unknown height.

What a lame way to die, he figured would be his final thoughts.

With a grunt, he thudded facedown onto a strangely padded surface. An earthy scent filled his nostrils. He waited a moment for his head to stop spinning, and then mustered the courage to open his eyes.

A smooth, green texture was before his vision. Deon lifted his head to find he'd landed on some sort of leaf—one large enough to fit him. He rolled over, confused to find the sun peering through the high trunks and branches above.

Huh? he wondered.

Deon sat up. He was all alone now, deep within the Nightwood forest. The trees and branches dominated all corners of the area: they were much more populated here, to the point that he couldn't find the ground. Oddly shaped, curvy branches circled and weaved around each other tightly all around him, even beneath the leaf where he stood.

This area wasn't quite a forest: it was more of a cave.

Deon stood slowly, still shaking off the dizziness from his unwelcome trip.

"Well, now I know what it's probably like to fight Alex," he said to himself.

He stepped off the spongy leaf and onto the uneven floor of roots and branches carefully. While they looked exactly like the soft branches he and Skrili had been sleeping in, these were hard like normal bark.

Deon observed his surroundings. There was no sound besides his own steps. A short walk ahead, he saw that this tree cave came to an abrupt end: the wall curved up. Wherever he was, he was trapped.

"No, no, no…" Deon uttered, hurrying forward. He thought maybe he could try flying through the top with his bug wing contraption, but the branches were too thickly interwoven. If they weren't soft, he probably couldn't fit through.

Well I had to get in here somehow, he noted.

Once he neared the end of the tree cave, his worry weakened. However, his curiosity peaked: the branches before him started shrinking out of the way for him, creating a path. With each step, they continued to make room.

"Man, this Country is weird," Deon said.

He continued forward, unable to tell where he was headed. But going anywhere seemed a better choice than waiting to die.

The path curved and turned occasionally—it seemed to be guiding him somewhere specific. He tripped twice on a few clingy branches, and quickly made sure to watch his step more carefully.

Then, he heard the cracking of wood from above. When he tried to find the source, he spotted it and ducked just in time: a blurry black branch came swinging right at him, and then vanished back into the tree wall.

Whoa…must be a loose branch from a dead tree, he figured. But…why was it black?

He continued on walking, but then felt his heart pound once. Deon came to a dead stop.

Disloyalty.

The essence of that word pulsed through his entire body once, and then it was gone.

His worry returning, Deon uneasily continued forward.

Then, another crack. A black branch whipped at him low, from the wall of the tree cave. Deon jumped over it, the bark only grazing his toe. Losing balance, he fell to his knees.

Jealousy.

Deon clutched his chest as the feeling pounded through him.

"What is this?" he gasped. "I need to get out of—"

This time, the sound that cut him off wasn't a quick snap of wood. It was an ongoing creak, coming from behind. Deon slowly turned to face where he'd just come from.

An entire wall of sickly black branches were in their final motions of closing off the path behind him, wrapping around each other like a spider weaving a web around a new catch.

Once the dark wall was complete, the cave was dead silent.

Somehow, Deon knew it was time to run.

He pounced to his feet, stumbling as he raced forward. The healthy branches ahead continued to knit a trail for him, matching his increased speed.

But now the black branches launched after him, toppling over each other as they reached desperately for their prey.

One of them drew close enough to swipe at him. It scratched his arm, almost knocking him over.

Unrelatable.

Deon pushed to catch his breath when his heart pounded once more. The word—or rather, its meaning—felt alive in his mind.

Another branch almost latched onto his foot. Deon shook it off and kept running.

Too broken.

Another clawed at his back.

Too depressed.

Deon stumbled as a thick branch caught him on the shoulder.

Too hard to love.

He pleaded for the healthy branches ahead to open up to somewhere safe, but the uncertain path continued on, weaving and winding.

Finally, two branches wrapped around both of his ankles and tugged. He couldn't do much more than fall, feeling the dark trees pull him backwards.

The branches began to surround him slowly.

But to his confusion, his emotions didn't quite match the situation.

While he was afraid, that wasn't the primary feeling. For some reason, he felt sad. Incredibly sad. An impending truth was sinking in and he had no choice but to accept it, yet he couldn't even decipher what it was.

This time, the words came to his mind layered over each other, like a chorus:

You'll give up on me, you'll get tired of me, you'll give up on me, you'll abandon me, you'll give up on me, I shouldn't even try, you'll give up on me…

Crouched over and unable to move, Deon realized:

These weren't his own feelings.

"Alright, alright…I've heard enough!" Deon exclaimed.

Frustration building, Deon imagined a long, sharp knife. He sent it soaring all around him, slaying as many surrounding black branches as possible. But to his surprise, they all immediately started growing back into form.

Deon imagined a second knife, focusing hard to control both simultaneously. Even faster now, he mentally swung them at his hunters. They couldn't keep up with his strikes this time. As soon as he carved a path out, he made a break for it.

He felt panic set in when he realized the healthy branches before him were no longer opening up a trail. Gritting his teeth, he ran straight at the wall of trees in a last ditch attempt to plow through.

But all at once, the trees opened up.

With all of Deon's weight forward, he clumsily rolled into a much more open space, landing on plain soil.

At last, he'd reached the end of the tree cave.

The creaking sound ceased, so hastily, Deon turned around. The trail he'd just sprinted from was closed off behind the same trees that had made a path for him. The black branches were trapped inside.

Deon lay there gasping as his breath steadily returned. His clothes were dirtied and ripped all over.

"What happened to you?" a familiar voice inquired unemotionally.

He lifted his head to find Skrili standing across from him. She was completely unscathed.

"Trees tried to kill me," he attempted to explain. "Where the heck are we?"

"I'm not sure. Seems like the wind took both of us."

Deon and Skrili observed their new surroundings. They were in a dirt clearing, enclosed within a circular wall of Nightwood trees. However, these weren't nearly as compact as the tree cave, but more akin to the area just beyond Skip's cabin.

"To be exact, the wind took all of us," came Skip's voice from above.

They turned to find a dead, black tree along the wall of the clearing. Deon tensed for a moment, before realizing it wasn't moving. On top of that, Skip was sitting casually within its branches high above.

"I was right: it was that kind of storm," Skip shared. "They don't happen too often—I'm glad we got caught in one!"

"WHY?!" Deon demanded, climbing to his feet.

Skip looked back and forth between Deon and Skrili. Whatever he found made a smile grow, and filled his eyes with intrigue. "So Skrili came out just fine, but Deon's covered in scrapes. Interesting…" he said to himself. "There's a reason I chose to do my Legend Training in Nightwood Valley. It's full of great Fiction Country phenomenon to learn from!"

He shifted his weight to another branch when the one he'd been using cracked. "Sometimes, when a group gets caught in a rainstorm around here, the wind will suck them up into what's known as 'Caves of Insecurity.' Spooky, right?"

And annoying, Deon thought, wiping off his sleeve.

"The good trees guide you back to the people you got separated from, as long as you want to find them again," Skip explained. "But the bad trees…the dead ones…they try to stop you. And the other peoples' insecurities about you empower them."

"The other peoples' insecurities…" repeated Deon. "Wait…so those feelings I heard…"

He looked into Skrili's eyes. He could hear all the words again.

"Looks like you had one heck of a trip. What did you hear in there?" Skip asked him.

Deon's eyes stayed on Skrili. "All kinds of things…about being too depressed…too hard to love or relate to…and not being worth my time."

"Well, those aren't my insecurities," said Skip. "That's what Skrili's worried you'll think about her."

Skrili looked away and hid her eyes behind her bangs.

"It matches your vision from the cliff," Deon realized. "You think I'll get sick of you. You think I'll leave—that everyone will."

Skrili bit her lip silently.

"I'm just…used to it," she uttered, hardly audibly. "I…I know I can be a lot."

Before Deon could come up with some sort of reassuring rebuttal, Skip broke out in a laugh.

"Really? By the looks of it, Deon definitely doesn't think so," he pointed out. "What happened in your cave, Skrili?"

She paused abruptly and stared off in thought, possibly even holding her breath. Despite her stoic face, Deon could see her mind spinning as something significant occurred to her.

"Nothing," she finally said. Her eyes slowly fell back to Deon, and something behind them had changed with her realization. "Absolutely nothing," she repeated louder. "I just followed the trail, and it led me here."

"So while you've been projecting all these worries onto Deon, while you've been assuming he'll eventually bail on you, this guy has literally no insecurities about being your teammate," Skip explained. "I've never, ever, seen anyone come out of a tree cave without a single scratch."

"What does that mean…?" asked Skrili.

"Basically, you found a real keeper," said Skip simply. "Whatever you've been through before, I guess he's different. And he has a lot of faith in you. Maybe you should try and put a little faith in him."

Deon felt that odd sensation increase stronger than ever before as he exchanged gazes with Skrili. But this time, neither looked away.

"So uh…do you believe me now?" Deon asked. His tone wasn't correctional or condescending, but hopeful. "I don't plan on ditching you. I'd be an idiot. Everywhere we've gone, you've helped me grow. You're the most interesting—and honestly the weirdest—but mainly the most interesting person I've ever met, Skrili."

Her widened eyes moved to his torn clothes and scrapes across his skin.

"I'm…sorry," she uttered.

"Oh, this? This is nothing!" Deon promised with a laugh.

"No…" said Skrili. "I mean…to be honest, I've tried pushing you away several times. When we first met…when you told me about your cousin…after you returned my TeamTrack and asked me to be your teammate…I kept being cold to you. Part of me wanted to scare you away. But…it's because I was afraid…"

"Afraid of what? What will she say?" Skip called down dramatically. Deon jumped, almost forgetting he was still there.

"…Of trying again," she finished. "But now…I'm willing. I'll—I'll do my best. Okay?"

The words forced themselves out laboriously. Clearly, she was trying hard.

Deon's smile spread as wide as possible.

"So then, what say you, O Deon?" questioned Skip playfully, with a false elderly rasp.

"I could do without the random commentary!" Deon spat. "But…what I say is," he started confidently.

Skrili watched him in wait, fidgeting nervously with the hoodie he imagined for her. She bit her lip again, clearly unsure what expression to give in this situation. It was obvious this hadn't been a conversation she was prepared for.

But her eyes were filled with anticipation. Finally, she'd laid out her vulnerabilities with him, and her desire to pursue their team. Now he felt it was his turn to say something meaningful and grand.

But he'd never seen her like this before. Combined with the enchanting essence around her, she was mesmeric.

"Uh…c—cool," he muttered pathetically, offering a shaky thumbs-up.

NO! I totally blew it!! he thought despairingly. Why?! I'm never this lame!

While Skip broke out laughing from above, a familiar, sly smile grew on Skrili's face. It eased Deon's embarrassment.

"You better not screw up, though," she warned.

Deon chuckled. "You punk."

Skip let out a long grunt as he stretched up in the tree. "Well, though I totally didn't plan it, I'd say this was another successful training session!" he declared. "All that's left is to try and get out of here and find our way back to the cabin."

Deon and Skrili nodded. Then, they stared impatiently when for some reason, Skip made no effort to climb down.

"Uh…are you coming, or…?" Deon wondered.

"Oh—yeah I'm not up here by choice," he explained casually. "Actually, I'm trapped. This tree has been pinning me down the entire time."

"What?!"

"Yeah…this is really, really bad," Skip added, still entirely chipper.

With cracks and tired creaks, the tree branches suddenly came to life. The trunk sprung up from the ground, its roots protruding from the dirt. Then, the branches around Skip tightened, squeezing him against the harsh black bark.

"Wait, this is just one of your little tests, right?" Deon asked, trying to keep his cool.

Skip shook his head calmly. "Oh, no. Not at all," he said. "I'm being totally serious. I'm in immediate, definitely lethal danger. Please help."