Part 3 - A Second Chance

Two days pass by in neatly arranged schedules, golden rays of sunshine playing upon green gardens and the happy chatter of rabbits walking through the tunnels and lawns of Cloud Mountain, living in the bliss of hopes yet to come. Gorthan thought he died and went on to a new, fresh life in another time, or another world, leaving the brokenness of the past to lay in shattered pieces behind him.

Yet, some of the shards still clung in his fur, prickling against his skin, reminding him of his own grief and mortality. He couldn’t quite forgive that him of the past, nor could he forget it. As of now, he tried to remain in his dream.

He sat on a bench next to the Lighthall, allowing his eyes to wander along the intricately arranged stained glass panels fixed in each of the walls. They told a story, he could see, one that started before he was even born.

And, parts of it he had lived through.

The carnage, the wolves, the death. The king, who lay on the ground beneath the enemy of rabbit kind. That window was almost complete, but pieces still lay on the floor inside, blue, yellow, and green. Red, orange, magenta. Refracting light, scattering glowing orbs upon fur. But not his own fur. The fur of a rabbit standing right…

Gorthan jumped, now realizing there was someone standing over him, waiting to be noticed. She was standing so close, her skirt nearly brushed against his legs.

“Hey! You asleep or something?” She leaned in close, whiskers twitching. Her startling green eyes filled his vision.

“Green…” He mumbled, still coming out of his stupor.

“Ah, no, but good guess. My name’s Molly.” She leaned back, crossing her arms. “Your turn.”

Gorthan shook his head once to dislodge the cobwebs, then spoke. “M-my name is Gorthan. I’m an apprentice from—“

“Chelmsford, I know. Lord Rake already told me. Anyway, he wants to see you and that other cute apprentice too. Better hurry up.”

Cute? I never thought of Klark as being “cute”. Gorthan shrugged off that thought and stood up. “Um, Lord Rake?”

“You don’t know who Lord Rake is?” She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Gorthan held up his hands. “I know who he is, but I don’t know where to look for him. I’ve only been here for—“

“Three days, I know.” Gorthan found it uncanny how this doe knew so much about him. Perhaps she’s Lord Rake’s assistant or something? She gave an exaggerated sigh.

“I guess I’ll have to show you the way. Come with me, Gort.”

“Ah, i-it’s Gorthan…” He trailed behind her as she quickly paced away, leading him to the quarters of the Lord of Cloud Mountain.

They walked in silence for a span of time. Then, Molly piped up, “So, how old are you?”

Gorthan startled at the sudden question. “Huh?”

“You heard me, how old are you?”

“I thought you knew everything about me.”

“Not everything silly!” She rolled her eyes. “Just some things I heard Lord Rake tell me.”

“Oh… so you’re his assistant, then?”

“Kind of. I usually help him take care of Emma. She’s the most adorable baby ever!” She placed her hands on her cheeks. “She’s sooooo cute! She just came here, and she’s just a tiny little thing.”

“Oh.” Gorthan didn’t really have experience with babies. He usually hanged around bucks his age and a few adults. He supposed younglings could be cute… sometimes.

“Anyways, you still didn’t answer my question.” She turned back to him with her ears laid back.

“Ack, right. Um, well, I think I’ll be about 17 years of age this summer.”

“Seventeen? I’m going to be that age soon as well.” Molly wrinkled her nose. “In the summer, though? I couldn’t imagine being a summer child. I prefer the winter. It’s quiet, and pretty. That’s when I was born, too.”

Obviously. Gorthan thought. He didn’t know how to reply to that, so he remained quiet. Molly wasn’t fazed by it, and proceeded to ask him another question.

“So, were you a farmer apprentice?” She didn’t look back at him.

“Huh? No…”

“A potter apprentice?”

“No—“

“No, wait, let me guess…” She stopped walking and whirled to face him. “A weaver’s apprentice?”

Gorthan was taken aback. He stared at her with wide eyes for a couple seconds. She then winked and said, “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“A-actually…” Gorthan felt like he was drowning in the sea of her green gaze, “I’m a soldier apprentice.”

She blinked, releasing Gorthan from the clutches of her powerful eyes. Her eyebrows raised, and she rocked back on her heels. “You’re joking, right? A scrawny thing like you?” She proceeded to circle him, looking Gorthan up and down. She was a bit larger than him, but her long pointed ears made her look even taller. He squirmed, then took a few paces forward.

“I’m not that tiny! And besides, I can fight…” He could feel a wave of something, almost like nausea, hit him when he said the last few words. He didn’t want to think about it now. Molly saw his face fall, and spoke in a gentler tone. “You were there when First Warren was attacked, right?”

Gorthan nodded mutely. Unwanted memories pulsed and throbbed behind his vision. He almost thought he could smell metal, see trickles of blood flickering in the torchlight.

“I heard you were one of the few survivors. I’m… sorry.” Molly sounded a bit awkward, and Gorthan could hear her feet shuffling behind him. He took in a deep breath, pushing away the echoes of wolves growling and birds screeching, and turned to Molly with a smile on his face. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure.” Molly gingerly resumed her place in front of him, and they continued without speaking again until they reached a stout oaken door.

“This is your stop.” Molly told him. She didn’t walk away, though. But she didn’t make a move to open the door either. After a couple seconds, Gorthan reached out and twisted the brass knob, pushing inwards. As soon as he stepped in the doorway, a deep tone greeted him.

“Greetings, you two. Please, come in.”

Gorthan saw a middle-aged grey buck standing by a low wooden table. His clothing was of a fine quality, stunning, in fact. His features were plain, but friendly. He almost reminded Gorthan of the father he never had. He gestured towards where Klark stood along one wall, and in his rich voice said, “You may stand there.”

Gorthan and Molly stepped forward at the same time, and Gorthan looked over in confusion to see Molly snapping away from a moony smile to glare at him. His ears laid flat as he heard Lord Rake chuckle.

“As for you, Molly, you are dismissed.” Rake gave Molly a knowing look. She gave one final glance at Klark before turning and exiting with a flounce of her skirt. As soon as the door shut behind her, Lord Rake turned towards the two apprentices standing side by side.

“You’ve no doubt heard what happened by now, how our king has fallen?” Both apprentices nodded gravely, bowing their heads slightly. Lord Rake nodded back, then continued. “His fall marked a dark and terrible age for rabbit kind, what will be known as the Afterterrors. We are in a critical time, where many have been brutally slain or taken as captives under our enemies…” He had paced slightly as he spoke, then turned back to them with his hands behind his back. Gorthan couldn’t help but notice how haggard he looked, and he felt a rush of sympathy for this leader.

“We need to be as strong as we can to fight back against this evil.

That means every rabbit here has a special purpose to fulfill our vision of a mended world. You two are such young rabbits that will make this a reality.” Gorthan straightened slightly.

“And so, with the kind help of my two greatest lieutenants, you are being offered to resume your training under Cloud Mountain as soldiers.”

Gorthan’s eyes widened. “A soldier?”

Lord Rake nodded. “It’s an honor to have young folk here training again. We’ll be glad to have you.”

Klark had a look of determination on his face. “I’ve been sitting around for too long. I want to resume my training.” He looked over to Gorthan, seeming to expect him to reply with the same enthusiasm. Gorthan was silent. A dark cloud of gloom descended upon his mood. He didn’t feel right continuing to be apprenticed to a soldier, wouldn’t that be disrespecting Marc’s memory? The fact that he moved on, like he didn’t even exist? Or would declining the offer make all the hard work Marc put into training him be for naught? Would that make all his efforts, even his death, mean nothing? Gorthan was frozen in thought, and his doubts swarmed around him like buzzing flies around carrion.

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. He snapped back to the present, and could see Klark staring at him, puzzled, and Lord Rake was grasping his shoulder, eyes brimming with kindness.

“Perhaps you need a day to think about it?” He suggested softly. Gorthan nodded and quickly strode past Klark. Klark tried to reach out to him, but stopped short when Rake murmured “Leave him.”

Gorthan didn’t know what to think. He wandered aimlessly through halls, pondering over and over again what to do. The same questions plagued his mind, clawing and knotting relentlessly. Exhausted, he finally sat down heavily and leaned his head back against a wall. He allowed his eyes to slip closed.

Oh, Master Marc. He moaned inwardly. What would you want me to do?

“Hey.” A familiar voice broke into his thoughts. Dazed, Gorthan opened his eyes to see a soldier squatting in front of him. He blinked a couple times in surprise. He was the buck from before, the one who had led him and Klark to the Savory Den. The one that was so nice to him…

“I couldn’t help but see you passed out here. Are you ill, son?” He tilted his head, and his amber eyes caught the light brilliantly.

“N-no, I’m not ill… I just…” Gorthan averted his eyes. “Have a lot on my mind.”

“Care to talk about it?” The soldier scooted over until he was next to Gorthan, then sat himself down on the ground. Gorthan could feel his friendliness, almost like a warmth from a fire. He slowly began to explain his dilemma.

“I’m from Chelmsford. I was going out with a company of soldiers before… it all started happening. Me and my friend Klark were one of the few to make it out of there. I… I had a wonderful mentor and friend… his name was Marc.” Saying his name almost brought tears to his eyes. “Master Marc. He… he died protecting us.”

Gorthan heaved in a huge sigh, trying to keep from breaking down in front of a complete stranger. He didn’t even know why he was confiding in him, but, somehow, he knew only he would understand.

The buck was staring intently at him, his own eyes mirroring Gorthan’s pain. “I know what it’s like to lose someone I care about. I’m deeply sorry for you, son.”

Gorthan swiped a hand across his eyes, then continued. “Several minutes ago, I was offered to keep training here as a soldier, like Marc would have wanted… but…” Gorthan looked away ashamedly. This was stupid. He should have kept his mouth shut. He sneaked a glance up at the soldier. The red-haired buck was meeting his eyes knowingly.

“You don’t want to be a soldier anymore after experiencing the battlefield.” He said softly. Gorthan was shocked. How did he know? Did he guess? Had he gone through the same thing as well? Then Gorthan felt shame. It was only a small bit of battle he had been through, and yet he had been terrified of it. Was he really that cowardly?

“What do I do?” Gorthan moaned. “It’s getting all tangled up in my mind. What should I do? What would Master Marc want me to do?” This time, Gorthan couldn’t hold back a single tear that slid down his cheek. He didn’t make a move to rub it away. He really was weak. He deserved it. He shut his eyes on more tears bubbling up like a spring, forming rivers on his cheeks.

A long, rough arm encircled his shoulders, pulling him closer to the soldier’s warm side.

“One thing we may never understand in this life is the power of death. How it takes away, or how it can give so much in return. Not earthly things, it destroys those with a breath, but things like character. Love. Virtue.” The soldier squeezed Gorthan once in a fatherly manner, then released him and patted his shoulder. “Only you can answer the questions you have. It’s not up to everyone else to make you who you are, that’s your responsibility.” The buck pointed a finger at his chest. “What your master wants is for you to do what makes you feel complete.”

Gorthan was silent, thinking deeply. He slowly met the soldier’s amber gaze once again, and offered a tiny smile.

“I… I know what I must do.”

“Good. That’s all I could ever ask of you.” The russet buck smiled back, then straightened into a standing position, and began to walk off. Gorthan wiped at his cheeks and heaved in a big sigh, willing the courage to do what he knew must be done. His ears perked up when the soldier called out to him one last time.

“It was a pleasure knowing you, Gorthan.” After the last syllable died, Gorthan froze, then relaxed just as quickly. His trembling lips spread once more in a grin, wider than before. He didn’t reply. After all, what was there to say?

Gorthan squared his shoulders as he entered the kitchen part of the Savory Den, brushing nervously past a few apprentices taller than himself, and ignoring their curious gazes. He gulped when he stood before Kairo, who was dusting leftover flour from his hands and cocking an eyebrow at the flustered grey bunny.

“Well, Gorthan m’boy, what brings you back here? Looking for dinner scraps?” He tilted his head to one side, bending one ear in the process. Gorthan focused all his attention on his words, dead serious.

“Kairo, sir? I… I wish… to be your apprentice.”

It became quiet in the kitchen. Kairo studied him again, and offered a gentle smile.

“Well, m’boy, if that is what you wish, I most certainly won’t complain. However, we’re going to have to run it by Lord Rake first.” He warned, raising a dough-caked finger. “Only then can I take you on.”

Gorthan smiled openly. Maybe, just maybe, he would finally be in a place he belonged.

Years went by since that day. Gorthan rose from being a new apprentice swiftly to being a successor in the craft, then eventually became a master in the kitchen. He had several apprentices of his own, all showing great potential, which of course, he would never admit to their faces.

Most, in fact, almost all, rabbits now called him “Gort”, and he never bothered to correct them. In fact, he kind of liked it. “Gort”. It was friendly, warm, funny. All the things he was. It grew to be such a popular nickname that some even didn’t know his full name. But, that was fine with him too.

It was upon a particular day that Gorthan was waddling (for, with his increasing waistline, he could do nothing other) through the halls of Cloud Mountain. He had heard that there were some more refugees brought here, and he wanted to witness them for himself.

He could remember his younger days when he himself was brought here, so lost, confused, and wracked with grief. He wished only the best for these orphaned souls.

While still in his thoughts, he nearly ran into someone. Someone familiar. It took a moment to right himself and turn to see who it was. Standing before him was an auburn rabbit with delicate white markings. She stood nearly a head above him, and was carrying a medic’s satchel over her shoulder. He burst out in a wide grin.

“Emma, my girl. I didn’t expect to see you here! Finally getting a break from mixing herbs?”

Emma chuckled. Gort had known her since she was a small baby, not even old enough to crawl. She patted his shoulder, and replied, “Yes and no. I heard of the new arrivals, and I was summoned to tend to the injuries of one.” She frowned then. “I hope it’s not too serious.”

They were walking alongside each other now, Emma slowing her pace to match that of Gort’s. “Not as spry as I used to be.” He muttered to himself.

“I can hear you.” Emma said teasingly. Gort looked up at her sheepishly, giving a guffaw.

“Habit.” He offered in way of explanation. “Anyway, how is the good doctor today? He couldn’t come himself?”

“Afraid not. They wanted him to come, but he instead wanted me to go. Said it was, ‘Good in ways of education, Emmarabbit. Bookworms see only page dust of food, you work muscle in way of doctor.’” She mimicked his quick, queer way of speech so closely that she broke down in a fit of giggles. Gort laughed so long and loud that several soldiers turned to stare, wondering what had come over him. He clutched his sides after a while, still heaving from the exertion. “That sounds like him all right!”

“I should know.” She rolled her eyes. “I have to hear it every day.”

“I’m not too sure my speech isn’t much more confusing to my apprentices.” Gorthan sighed and shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if anything I say gets through those skulls of theirs!”

“You’re a good mentor, Gort.” Emma assured, “I’m sure they couldn’t have a better teacher.”

Gort swelled up proudly. He couldn’t help himself. “Ha! You do well to reassure me, Miss Emma.”

They chatted a bit more as they walked, soon reaching the desired area.

Gorthan peered out among the rabbits present. Lord Rake was there, as well as Wilfred and Smalls. Lord Rake called for Emma to tend to a rabbit, and she hurried off towards two smaller figures. Gort gazed at them, trying to see their features through the mist.

After a few seconds, two pairs of eyes met his own.

Thank you so, SO MUCH for sticking with me through all this! Again, I apologize to those who are waiting for their ideas to be written, I currently have a lot on my plate, and adding writer’s block to that doesn’t help a bit. However, I will be making a video for this FanFic and the one after, so be sure to stay tuned for that.

I’m mainly glad I got this one done, this Fan Fiction has been a big thing for me, and the one I put the most heart and soul into, so I really hope that you have enjoyed it in its many uploads.

Unfortunately, I cannot accept any more requests for this span of time, I took on that challenge when I thought I was prepared, but things happened, and now I have wizened to the fact that I am only human, and inspiration comes and goes, I cannot force it when I need it.

Please let me know what you think, and possibly some ideas of what Green Ember videos I could make! I love hearing feedback, and gaining new ideas.

Again, thank you, and I’ll see you another time!