The Death of Innocence

POV: Wicker Firlie
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        In regular circumstances, Wicker did her best to stay away from the stray Nymphs and Satyrs of the forest. She kept her distance from those who hadn't been taken to the cabin of the mortal boy who took care of them. This time was different, though. This time the creature was a very familiar face. Wicker had known this Nymph from her childhood. Her name was Willow, and the two had grown up together during their younger years, and right up to their late teens. Wicker knew that by now the toxicity of the forest would have taken Willow's state of mind ages ago, but denial had overthrown the ginger forest spirits better judgement, as she followed the young brown haired Nymph through the forest. Wicker needed to know for sure that Willow had been taken by Charlie. She couldn't leave her without making sure that her childhood friend wasn't in a trance. 

        The pine tree spirit followed her friend silently through the forest, treading lightly in bare feet across the damp spring leaves cascading along the forest floor, making sure to avoid fragile sticks that could give away her stealth. Wicker ducked behind and around trees, looking for Willow to give her a sign that she wasn't herself. Wicker almost considered calling out after an hour of following the other spirit through the forest, but time stood still as Willow stopped walking and stared off into the distance, head tilted  to the side, the mess of matted, mousy brown hair falling over her face wildly. Following her old friends gaze, Wicker noticed another figure in the distance. It was a girl, young looking, with dark hair and rounded features, sitting in a patch of flowers. Willow took a step forward and a twig snapped. The girl in the distance lifted her head in alert. Wicker ducked behind a tree and watched Willow do the same. The brunette forest spirit crept around the tree, just out of the other girls line of sight. Wicker watched with wide green eyes as her friend blended in with the surroundings of the forest easily, making her way closer and closer to the other girl, who had let her guard down once again. Wicker stepped forward slightly, craning her head to watch as Willow stood over the relaxed body of the girl.  Nothing could have prepared Wicker for what was about to happen.

    Wicker gasped as Willow cupped a hand over the girls mouth and held her down to the ground. She watched, stunned and frozen in place as the girl struggled under the grip of the tree spirit. Willow took out a knife and slid it across the girls neck. An ambush of vines parted the two and sent Willow flying through the air, landing across the clearing. Wicker found her footing once more and stumbled out from behind the tree. Her limbs felt like jelly underneath her as she watched Willow charge and charge again at who Wicker presumed to be a daughter of Demeter. Each time the passive demigod avoided the forest spirits attacks, yelling at her that she didn't want to hurt her. Wicker ran forward as the fighting ceased momentarily, but watched in horror as the Nymph pinned the Demigoddess against a tree, knife connected to her throat. As Willow reared to make the killing blow, Wicker witnessed the daughter of Demeter shove her own knife into the forest creatures neck, warm, menacingly red liquid spilling out as the knife was ripped from the flesh and thrown away. 
Wickers breath hitched in her throat and came out unsteady as the body of Willow grew limp. Life draining from the spirits hazel eyes, head lolling to the side as her muscles and body relaxed. The Demigoddess helped the spirit to the ground, muttering something under her breath that Wicker couldn't make out. The pine tree spirit took a weak step forward, eyes wide and mouth parted in shock. The snap of the twig hadn't registered until the daughter of Demeter's head snapped towards Wicker, looking upon her with  forest coloured green eyes that burned with guilt and horror at the events that had occured. 
Wicker had lived to see many deaths in her 30 years of life, but never had she witnessed one of her own being killed. For the first time, she watched the life and energy of the forest drain from the being it inhabited. Willows blank hazel eyes stared towards the sky as she lay lifeless on the ground. Wicker fumbled a few steps closer before she fell to her knees on the ground next to the girl who had plunged a knife into her friends neck in self defense. Wicker lifted a shaky hand, her fingers looking paler than usual as she gently brushed them over Willows eyelids to close them. 
"I can't believe she..." Wicker spoke in a whisper, as it was all she could muster. Her voice was shaking uncontrollably as she combed her fingers through Willows wild hair, waiting for Willow to become one with the forest like all Nymphs and Satyrs do in their last moments.

Willow was soon bathed in a bright light, her sentient form diminishing into  a patch of blue Forget Me Not's.     
 

Eliza’s eyes were trapped on the dryads. She looked into them, as if trying to explain herself. She couldn’t. How could she? The blue light blinded her eyes, but she kept staring at the dryad. The light faded and her own little light inside of her was starting to fade as well. She knows what the dryad saw. And she knows the dryad couldn’t of stepped in, that would’ve made Eliza feel 2x worse than she does now. And she feels worse than the time she tried to visit her uncle’s realm too soon in life. She finally broke the stare as she stared at the beautiful flowers popped up. She scrambled backwards, dirt sticking to the warm blood on her hands.

Eliza could feel the plants before her dying as she scrambled to get to a place in the soil where there was nothing growing around her. Everything was dying. All of the plant life. She was killing it, just like she killed the nymph. She couldn’t control it as her emotions were so out of control, she felt as if her powers were punishing her for what she did. And by the gods, she would give up every power she had if she could save the nymphs life. But she couldn’t, and that was evident as she looked at the now slightly wilted forget me nots. Even more guilt piled on her, as she knows whatever the nymph or satyr was reincarnated into, it was to reflect on their lives.

Suddenly she was brought out of her guilt trance when she physically felt herself be stepped on. But she knew no one did, but as she looked up, there stood a boy. She knew him, his name was Tyler. She sparred with him once. It was tough. But as she looked, she could tell he saw something. She knew what he saw. He saw her kill the nymph, and now he held a sword at the dryad’s throat. She would not sit by and watch someone kill an innocent soul. Like he did. He watched her, she may not of seen him do it, but it was a feeling in her gut. She struggled to stand as she was still weak from all of the dying plants around her. It was still winter and all the death was literally making her weak to her knees. She finally got up and slowly moved over. She dared not to go any closer to the flowers Tyler was crushing, as she would simply hurt them even more.

Eliza looked at her dagger that lay mere feet from her. She saw the blood on it, and she knew that it still coated her hands and arms. She shook her head. Never again. She would not pick up the weapon that took an innocent life away. So she glared at Tyler. It was harsh and full of sadness.

“Tyler, leave her alone. You have no right. The dryad did nothing, she’s harmless. She’s scared and I… I already scared her enough. Just, just go Tyler. You stood there. I know you did. You wouldn’t of gotten here so quickly and you know exactly what you’re stomping on. You freaking knew! You saw, you saw me struggle didn’t you!? And you stood there! Why didn’t you help me? You… You… BASTARD! You stood there! YOU JUST STOOD THERE!” Eliza stuttered at first, but she grew with rage as she went on with her rant. And that’s when the word slipped. She had never cursed before. She always used nice words to replace the mean ones. But she was scared and angry and just upset. She glared at Tyler once more, before guilt once again took over.
She covered her mouth. She... She was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Eliza wanted to summon vines to push him back from the innocent dryad, but she could barely keep herself standing right now. She felt like she was going to throw up. She just cursed. She just murdered someone. She just yelled at someone. She was slowly losing the pieces she held so closely together to the dark part of herself. The one she never wanted to resurface. She looked up once more, a sad look on her face this time. She silently begged Tyler to simply back off. She knew he was hurting. She knew about Alyssa. Everyone did. He was in pain, and she saw it. She wondered if he saw her pain as she fought the nymph. She guessed not.

Tyler whipped his head toward Eliza at her outburst, "I didn't help because you didn't need it!" He snapped harshly, completely indifferent to her pain. It actually disgusted him how she was behaving. Yet, something she said reached his former self that was buried beneath his own suffering. Was it that she called him a bastard? Nah, he wished he was. Then his sister wouldn't have been killed by a missing father. No, it was something else. Something that didn't spark until he actually registered who he was looking at. His eyes connected with Eliza, and an old memory rekindle in his mind. A party on Mother's day during his first year at Camp. He had danced with her the entire time he was there... and had fun. They had talked, and laugh, and had even tried setting up two of there friends together. It was great, and she became one of his first friends that year. Now Eliza was suffering and he was treating her like shit. Clearly, she was tormenting herself over what happened and he didn't care. He felt no empathy for her what so ever. That didn't sit right with the part of Tyler that his pain was hiding.

"Look..." Tyler started, his tone still rough but softer now. He was going to try to explain his actions to the best that he was able to understand them, when Wicker moved. Tyler's attention flicked back to the spirit and he found her a few paces away and upright. Then she bolted.

Tyler's mind went into a frenzy. 'He saw the dead spirit attack Eliza, then he saw this one come in immediately after the other one was killed, and not it runs. She must know something.' A part of Tyler knew that his reasoning sounded like a witch hunt, but for him it was the only thing that made sense. Flipping his sword into a reverse grip so that it was easier to sprint with, he growled at Eliza, "Come on!" and took off after Wicker.

Following the spirit deeper into the woods was not an easy task. She new the woods better and could easily move through leaves and brush, where as Tyler moved more like an angry bear. He plummeted through surroundings with little care, slashing and cutting his way at the trees as he needed to. The forest seemed to work against him though, and dozens of thorns and other snags scratched and pulled at his skin and clothing. It wasn't long before Tyler lost the spirit, and he stopped unknowingly under the tree that Wicked climbed up. He had a few new holes in his shirt and many scratches that bled thinly from his chase, but due to the adrenaline flowing through him hardly recognized them. Outraged, he slammed his sword into the Pine where it cut deep into the bark and trunk, and muttered "Dammit," at his failure.

Wicker nearly fell from the high up branch she walked along, as a sudden piercing pain through her leg winded her. It felt as if she'd been stabbed, and for a moment she thought she had. Despite every defensive fiber in her being warning her to keep quiet, she couldn't help but let out a loud yelp of pain and surprise, which turned into a choked whimper as The Forest Spirit collapsed. Wicker managed to grab a hold of the tree branch she'd been climbing on, clinging for her life as she peered down at the leg that had felt sudden pain. 
"No wound," she breathed to herself shakily. If she wasn't hurt, the only explanation was that something else in the forest was. Usually, Wicker could only sense when a living thing was hurt. It was like a soft burning sensation in her chest, but as she was highly connected to the evergreen trees of the forest, Wicker felt their pain almost as if it were her own.
Oh, Gods, she realized. If the horrible demigod was close enough to hurt the pine tree that had offered her refuge, her scream had surely been carried through the winds to him. Something more stirred in her chest as she came to her realization. In his search for her, the one-eyed demigod was bringing harm to the forest around her. It triggered an anger within the Dryad. She hated people hurting her woods. 
The pain in her leg had subsided, and Wicker took advantage of it as quickly as she could. The Wood Nymph balanced herself on the tree branch once more, and continued her journey back to Willow. She kept her gaze fixated on the ground below her, and her ears tuned to the sounds carried to her. As a Nymph, her hearing was not as good as that of a Satyr, but she could make out the distant sound of a feminine tone. It had to be the girl who seemed to know the boy. She protested against him, calling him by the name Tyler. Wicker hoped she'd remember that, although she felt as if she'd not forget the one-eyed demigod any time soon, nor the daughter of Demeter who's knife had plunged into the neck of Wicker's childhood friend. 

Wicker tried to stay as high up in the trees as she could, praying to the Gods that her fiery red hair wouldn't easily give away her camouflage. Unfortunately, few trees could offer strong branches so high up, so the young Nymph was forced lower to the ground. At least she knew that this demigod fought with swords. She'd be in much more trouble if he carried a bow. 
The branches Wicker stepped on shook with her weight. She could feel her heart hammer in her chest, anxiety pumping through her veins at the realization that she could be leaving a trail for the two demigods to follow, but if she'd wanted to me more careful, she would have been. 
She couldn't stop now, she was almost there. She could see the edge of the woods, and sense the dying plant life that had been affected both by the lumbering Demigod, Tyler, and the guilt? Fear? Regret? That had radiated from the energy of the daughter of Demeter. 

The trees began to grow more sparse as she neared the edge of the woods, becoming too far apart for Wicker to jump through. She had to continue on foot. Taking her chances on the ground seemed like a better option than falling to her death from the heights of tall trees... Or, maybe... 
Wicker took a deep, shaky breath. Her whole body seemed to quiver as she slowly lowered herself down from the tree. The blood roaring in her ears almost drowned everything else around her out. As hard as she tried, it proved harder to hear the other two that had followed her. Wicker grit her teeth and narrowed her eyes. 
"I'll not be able to make it out of this by running away," she breathed to herself, voice shaky, but hardened in an unfamiliar way to her. Her words almost tasted as if they weren't her own. Wicker adjusted the strap of the canvas messenger bag that hung across her chest, untying it's tassels and opening the flap quickly. The Wood Nymph rummaged around momentarily until her small, delicate hands grasped the familiar shape of Pan Pipes. A satisfied grin managed itself across her pink lips as she retied the tassels on her bag, and swung it around so it fell into the crook of her lower back and out of her way. 
With Pan Pipes gripped tightly in one hand, the Wood Nymph trailed her pale finger tips along the light washed jeans she wore, until she reached the garter belt that held her few weapons. She she pulled two leaf shaped celestial bronze throwing knives from their holsters, and let them rest between her index, middle, and ring fingers. Wicker took another deep breath inward, but this time managed to keep it steady. She breathed out, and repeat the process. 

Wicker sat on the branch of the willow tree. Not particularly high up, but definitely out of reach. The Wood Nymph leaned herself against the dark coloured trunk of the tree as she waited for the two demigods to spot her.
Wicker had almost lost sight of her purpose in her frenzy of fear and grief, but it seemed her overwhelming feelings subsided momentarily, as she sat in that tree inspecting her Pan Pipes and waiting.
Wicker Firlie was a Dryad. A spirit of nature, created for the purpose of protecting her domain. She wasn't about to let a psychotic demigod get the best of her. She was a guardian of the forest, and she had already allowed too much harm come to these woods, and those she cared about.
"Respect a tree, and it will protect you," Wicker mused, her voice no longer merely a whisper as she refused to hide. "But those who do harm blindly... Will surely know the wrath of the earth."  

Eliza heard the yelp from the treetops when she finished trying to get Tyler to back off the poor dryad. She knew that it was said dryad, and she also knew Tyler heard it as well. His one visible eye seemed to widen in focus. He was going the hunt the spirit of the forest. But as she looked at him currently, she saw how horrible his condition truly was. The boy seemed paler and his face glistened with sweat. Eliza hated seeing her friend like that, but perhaps it would put him off trying to seek out the innocent dryad? But then he yelled at her to back off, but Eliza saw the pained glare.

Tyler grabbed his sword and pointed at empty space and said to follow him. She watched him go, worry increasing. How sick was he truly? She saw as he ran off, and she knew she would have to follow him in order to protect the dryad. But she needed to pray to her mother once again for strength within the realm of the trees, as she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go on without collapsing.

Eliza knew exactly which way to go as she ran. She could feel Tyler killing plant life, some of which she grew herself. So as she ran, she gained strength in knowing that he was going to kill something and she had to prevent it. But then she lost momentum as the memory of the fresh and warm blood spread on her hands. She sucked a deep breath in as she continued to move forward. She couldn't stop now. She had a mission. The dryad could handle herself against Tyler in the state he was in, but the spirits of the forest weren’t very known for fighting. Well unless they're corrupt. And try to kill you. But you kill them instead. Eliza shook her head as she once again sucked in a deep breath of the air of the material she could control provided.

She heard Tyler before she saw him. She heard him shout at something. He must've found the dryad. She quickened and then she saw him. He stood confidently as he spun his swords, likely preparing for a fight. No. Not again. Never again. She let out a shaky breath as she slowed her run into a walk, and then into a halt as she stood not even 10 feet within the boy. She looked at Tyler with sad eyes. He was in pain and so was she, however he was expressing it differently than herself.

She looked up at the tree Tyler was staring at and spotted the dryad. The spirits red hair was a dead giveaway to her location, so she obviously wasn't trying to hide. Eliza would hide forever if she could. But currently hiding was not an option, as she had to have Tyler to not fight the dryad. Her powers were useless in the growing scheme of things and she dared not to unleash her second dagger. So she had to talk her way thru this one, and she wasn't even sure if she could trust her mouth to speak the words.

“Tyler, stop. Please for the love of gods stop. You're not in the right of mind and you are practically destroying your body. When was the last time you ate? Slept? Showered? You were seeing double vision not to long ago. I know it hurts Tyler, but she's gone. Alyssa's gone and this isn't how you can get her back. It's unfair to yourself to keep justifying why you're holding onto the toxicity by hunting an innocent soul. Tyler, today I killed an innocent nymph. She did nothing wrong, but was simply unfortunate to be held under the spell of Charlie. And don't think for a minute that I will ever forgive myself for doing it. And I know you won't either. Your mother is the goddess of justice, but where is the just in killing someone who is in pain just like you and I?”

Eliza took steps forward as she talked. Her voice cracking when she confessed aloud to what she did, but she kept going. She made it to the point where she could reach out and touch Tyler's shoulder, so she rested it there, her trembling hand making contact to the material that covered the boy's torso.

(Gah Sorry how long this is but once I started I just couldn't stop!)


Tyler heard the voices pleading for him to stop. Stop the violence, the hysteria, the pain. His inner conflict grew worse. A small part of him did want to bring his actions to a halt, to fall into acceptance and let the healing begin. He was weak, dizzy, and losing motivation to carry on his task. Besides Eliza was his friend who was hurting even more, in part because of his own indifference to step in. Should he drop his weapons and give in? Just embrace the fact his sister and his love were gone, forever? Try to fill missing piece of his heart that was brutally taken all at once?


No. This creature had to have an answer and she was simply keeping it from him. She said it herself that she was a creature of life, that could mean she controls and could certainly take life, but maybe even give it back. She must have the answers he needed!


But, what if she didn’t? Maybe the creature was telling the truth… and it was in pain just like him. Maybe he should reconcile and try to make things right with the two….


No! What if yet she had a secret or knew more than she let on. Her pain could be facade. She watched as her ‘friend’ died, she didn’t intervene to save her. This spirit could be cold and calculating, watching out for its own self-interest. It could…


But what if it isn’t? He had acted violently and she never tried to fight back, maybe talking was the best recourse…


Yes, talk then punish! Punish her and destroy her will! The only absolute in this life is pain and she should know it for lying!


And if she isn’t lying then I'd be punishing an innocent creature…


No creature is innocent, and all eventually die.  I need to do what is necessary to find-! What did she say… about my mother?


Tyler had been arguing with himself while the two pleaded with him. The two sides of him felt like mental representations of his weapons. One represented mercy as a path for justice while the other was a viscous showing of vengeance. He heard the words the other two said, but they were not taken into any form of thought until the realization that Eliza had mentioned his mother.


The one person he did not want to think about.


His mother, Nemesis, the goddess of justice. Whose representation was of a blind folded woman measuring a person’s fate upon a set of scales. The overall referee of fairness. How could she do this to him… her own son? She had the power to decide what path laid ahead for her son, but how was it fair for him to lose two important people in his life almost at once? What did he do to deserve this pain?


For an uncertain and questionable amount of time he regained clarity. He was physically weak, but his willpower was back. Tyler’s thought’s weren’t exactly stable or of a healthy mind, but he could rationalize his thinking. He no longer wanted to fight but he no longer wanted to surrender either. No, he wanted to run. From Camp Half-blood, from the gods, and from all this pain and chaos. But he couldn’t leave just yet. He couldn’t be sure that Eliza or the forest spirit would keep him from leaving, in either fear of him doing more damage to himself or to the forest. So, he had to dispose of them. But how?


He was physically weak, he could admit that. So his best option would be to try to turn the two girls against each other. With a plan forming he let out cackle of laughter, that kind that sound close to a mixture of insanity and distraught. Pain and devastation. With a brief prologue, Tyler started his speech.


“You want to know how Nemesis would feel out my behavior? Well let me remind you that the goddess of justice does not feel anything. She is uncaring and judges with a cruel, callous hand… even if it’s her own son. So you want to know how the goddess of justice would settle this? An Eye for an Eye and Tooth for Tooth, Blood shall be re-payed with Blood.” He told them, his voice at first embattled with passion but slowly turning to a cruel monotonic iteration. Tyler was positioned with Wicker in front of him and Eliza behind him. That needed to change.  He wanted them to face each other so they can see who their real enemy was. Dropping from his fighting stance, the son of Nemesis moved purposely to his left toward the edge of the clearing. With his new position they now stood in a triangle apart from each other, and he was an equal distance from both. His swords still withdrawn, he pointed one at Wicker and began.


“You spirit! I don’t see forgiveness in your eyes yet, how do you feel about this demi-god that slaughtered your friend.” He dropped his arm and motioned toward Eliza, “Your friend could have eventually been saved, she didn’t know what she was doing, she couldn’t control herself, she was not the spirit that you knew but she could have been. She could have been saved. But Eliza took any chance of that away.”


“Your friend’s throat was slit, and now all that remains is a pile of flowers. Will you let that go unpunished? Will you leave her unavenged? Eliza may look pitiful now for it was her first murder, but in time she will accept it, and then brag about it to her friends. Where she’ll tell the story of how your friend, a mindless victim, attacked and Eliza skillfully dodge and kill her swiftly without breaking a sweat. Where she’ll try to get awe from the camper’s just for her own selfish pride.  Is that how you’re going to let your friend be remembered? A story for Eliza to boast about to her friends? If you really were that spirit’s friend, you would make sure the memory of her is not ruined and her killer is brought to justice.”


He ended his speech and twisted his head toward Eliza. Now it was her turn. He wasn’t sure if he could convince her to hate Wicker, but he could attempt to break her spirit.


“And Eliza… I know you saw me watching your situation and you thought I did nothing to help, but in truth I had only just arrived and there was very little I could do,” A lie but believable depending on how much Eliza had focused outside of her fight. He wasn’t finished and he continued with voice in the same cold neutral tone as before, only enunciating certain words with bits of venom. “But I was not the only there as you know… for when I arrived I saw a fiery wad of hair watching from within a tree. A clear minded nymph who chose not to help you even though she well knew that her friend was aggressive and dangerous.  She watched until you had to no choice but to murder one of the usual peaceful spirits of the forest.” His gaze was hard and cold, and undeserving upon Eliza, but nonetheless he continued.


“How did it feel to slit that innocent creature’s throat? You killed her like an animal for the slaughter, you watched as her consciousness- the true side of her- return for a brief moment before she eventually faded into the void. How did it feel to watch her carcass drop like a stone to the ground, her limp body collapse and the only sound being the thud as she landed, and the gurgle from her throat where the blood that is on your hands weld up and poured over the ground, before she disappeared and returned to the earth. Despite how serene her grave appeared, her death was anything but peaceful. And it’s all because of you… and the spirit that watched from afar. You ask why I accused her of working for Charlie? It’s because she chose to do nothing while your innocence died. Let me ask again, how does it make you feel? Is that spirit’s death really just on your hands or…” Tyler lifted his arm once again pointing his sword at wicker, “is it on someone else’s as well?”


Tyler returned his attention to Wicker and then back to Eliza to gage their moods before giving his conclusion,

“Those are the facts laid out before you, and that’s how the Goddess of Justice would judge you. Just as you both
been injured so shall the other feel the same pain.”


If anything Tyler felt that at least he had accomplished what he set out to do when he left camp, and that was to cause pain. If the two did fight he would slip away during the chaos. He felt a bit of concern for his friend but he knew Eliza could handle herself even in her grieving state, they had sparred before and he recalled she did quite well, as for Wicker he did not care for. He didn’t know her and so at this moment he could care less about what happened to her.


Of course if they did not fight, then he saw no other solution. Tyler would have to make sure they did not follow. He would then have to attack both of them.

Hatred. 

The feeling coils in Wicker's chest like a cornered snake preparing to strike as she listens to Tyler speak. Although he spits blame in the direction of Eliza, Wicker's heart only beats with malice towards Tyler. 
One so guilty of death could never find pride in such killing. Wicker watches the blades of grass beneath Eliza's feet die, once thriving and green, they are now bleached as if the sun has scorched them in a vicious bath of  heat. The Spirit can feel the sadness that radiates from Eliza. The forest helps her see the truth, carrying the Daughter of Nature's emotions to Wicker through wise soil and roots. The two girls are connected on a common ground the One-Eyed Demigod could never understand. A strong sense of comradery washes over Wicker. She feels less scared of the Demigoddess now. 
They are both maidens of nature, thriving off the living, while the boy between them uses the dead to his advantage. 

“But I was not the only there as you know… for when I arrived I saw a fiery wad of hair watching from within a tree. A clear minded nymph who chose not to help you even though she well knew that her friend was aggressive and dangerous. She watched until you had to no choice but to murder one of the usual peaceful spirits of the forest.”


Tyler's attention has turned to Eliza, now spitting his blame towards Wicker. The Nymph regards him with eyes that blaze as dangerously as Greek Fire. A lump forms in her chest, she feels the familiar prickle of tears in her eyes. Guilt, hatred, sadness, frustration. They burn within her, fighting a war with each other that none of them will win. Wicker feels her fist clench around the pan pipes she holds in her palm. If she were stronger, she may have broken the wooden instrument. 
Wicker replaces her throwing knives in their rightful places along the garter belt at her thigh, as Tyler's attention is turned towards the other Demigod. If she has to hurt this boy, she no longer wants it to be quick and far away. It's become personal. She slides out the larger knife slipped in the garter. Dendroo. A knife never before been soaked with blood. First time for everything, it seems.
She feels as if her insides have liquified with the acidic sensation of guilt. She remembers it clearly, watching Eliza struggle with Willow, being too weak with fear to run and help. She's been hurt by so many of those she's cared about. She's seen others she's cared about hurt. She had hurt so many she cared about.
It dawns on Wicker, that the act of doing nothing is just as awful as the act of killing. 
It dawns on Wicker, that she, too, murdered Willow. She has aided in the killing of a Forest Spirit, and that makes her just as guilty as the one who's hand had been forced into the act of it. 
Oh, Gods. 
Her breath hitches in her throat, becoming shaken and uneven. She nearly loses her footing, as her legs give way to the dizziness in her head. 
Oh, Gods please forgive me. 

Wicker's attention is suddenly brought back from the depths of her mind, snapped back to this hellish reality she is living, by gentle words spoken in her direction.  
“Dryad, I am so sorry. By the gods am I sorry I took your friend's life. Do not believe his words, I will regret and hold grief on this til the day I see my Uncle’s realm. You cannot forgive me, as I cannot even forgive myself, but you must see past this boy’s words. From a girl who just had her innocence ripped from her upon an act of the fates, I ask you to believe me.”
Eliza's eyes are soft, laid on Wicker's form with a gentleness as she pleads. Wicker steps towards her, an ungraceful action, as she stumbles do to the weakness she feels in her legs. The Spirit's eyes are sad, guilt-ridden. If she weren't so blinded by her guilt, Wicker may have been able to better feel the honesty of Eliza running through the forest floor. The Nature Maiden shakes her head very slightly as she replies,
"We are equals now, Demigoddess." Her tone is shaken as she chokes back a sob. Wicker relents finally and lets tears drip down her face. "I've seen so much. It's all been so much. I've seen death and destruction in this forest, more than I had ever imagined possible. My loved ones killing each other, trying to kill me... I've already hurt so many...I couldn't bring myself to hurt another. In my cowardice, I aided her death. I will not accept you holding this guilt on your shoulders alone. It is mine to bear also. We are connected. Connected now on many more levels than before." 

Wicker's confession leaves her feeling lighter, her mind clearing of it's overwhelming guilt. Her legs, although still weakened, feel sturdier.  The Nymph follows Eliza's glare cast towards Tyler. Her soft eyes are vicious and challenging as she speaks to him.
"Tyler, you are not my friend. You were once, but this? This is unforgivable. Trying to turn me on yet another innocent life. You may not know how I feel right now or ever, but you will. Because you know what’s interesting about children of Demeter? Our powers thrive on emotion.”


Eliza's vines launch from the ground. As the do, Wicker is overwhelmed with the other girls emotions. The earth below the Demigoddess seems to lace itself in them, those feelings of betrayal, sadness and anger. It offers it's assistance to the daughter of Demeter. 
Wicker, in turn, begins to feel stronger. The earth is alive beneath her, and it lights adrenaline in Wicker's arms. It's as if someone has struck a match in her bones.
All around her, the trees hiss menacingly, speaking in an old forgotten language that she can understand well. After all, she is one of them. They offer her assistance, as if they are gentlemanly hands outstretched and inviting her to dance. Inviting her to protect what's hers. 
A venomous giggle escapes through Wicker's parted lips as she bows in a low, respectful curtsy to the forest. As she rises, she regards Tyler with a side-eyed glance.
"Oh dear," she says, false sympathy coating her words. Her bottom lip pouts very slightly in mocking. Her green eyes have widened. She's hungry for justice. "It seems the trees don't like you very much, Son of Nemesis."  

Never having been good with blades and bronze, Wicker uses the only instrument of war she's highly skilled with. Pan Pipes. The Nymph brings the wooden tool to her lips. It sits comfortably along her chin, caressing her lower lip in a familiar sort of kiss. She blows along the tops of the pipes. A reedy sounding tune escapes them, guided by her breath. 
Music fills the air and wraps around the earth. The tune she plays is an ancient Greek war song. The plants answering Eliza's call feed off of the tune, and the forest around her seems to come alive. 
Wicker holds her bronze knife in her hands, pressed against her wooden instrument. It really isn't a match for Tyler's swords. Especially with her lack of knowledge in hand to hand combat. Wicker knows this, and yet, the weapon feels so right in this instance. It will be used as a last resort. For now, she plays wildly, aiding Eliza's strength, filling the forest with protective drive.