Part I
Offsets
Offset 0
Name: Only A Mirror: Intro
Offset 1
Name: Only A Mirror: Page 1
Offset 2
Name: Only A Mirror: Page 2
Offset 3
Name: Only A Mirror: Page 3
⚠️ Content Warnings ⤴
Info
Content Warning
This is Part I of a highly-coded, metaphorical tale about colonialism. It's a deconstruction of a familiar story, and an attempt to explore both the consequences of losing one's ancestral culture, and the origins of colonial violence.
If reading about these things causes you unmanageable grief, shame and/or anger, skip this tale, or make sure you have a support system you can talk to. (A support system that doesn't rely on denying the problem or preaching hate.) Violence is never the right way to deal with pain; there's been enough violence already.
endless_waters
Journal Entry- Oct. 2nd 2022
Hello. I'm still alive. Another night. Nothing terrible has happened.
I slept on the moss-bed. It was more comfortable than I thought it would be (a bit moist, maybe).
I ate the rest of the berries, in the bowl.
I still don’t know what to do. I don’t know what Herne and the Hunt have in store for me.
I will note, I feel like I’ve had the best sleep of my life.
Journal Entry- Oct. 4th 2022
Things have been uneventful.
They left me alone yesterday. Herne, all of them. No one came to my room. I guess they really intend to let me rest.
It’s just as well. The fear and physical toll of the last two weeks, and the last three days in particular, has caught up with me. I probably slept for sixteen hours last night.
I figured I should eat something other than berries, so I went through the pile of offerings. I found some jerky-stuff in a cloth bag. It had no taste. No smell. Could be human flesh, for all I know. But I feel past judging.
The fountain in the room is almond water. Might’ve known. It’s cold, and fresh, though. Almost like the real thing. One more thing I never thought I’d miss- just a glass of plain, old water.
But the trickling sound is nice. It helped me fall asleep.
I’ll probably sleep again. I’m still exhausted.
Journal Entry- Oct. 7th 2022
I noticed something strange, today. Just a little thing. The leaves on the ceiling changed.
They were all that weird shape, before. The everything-shape. The same leaf that’s been on every single tree since I got here.
But today I looked up, and they were different. Now, they’re oak leaves.
I like sleeping on the moss. I must getting be used to it- this sleeping right on the ground. I haven’t left my room for several days now.
I’ve slept more this week than I’ve ever slept before. Maybe it’s not the last two weeks. Maybe it’s all the fear. Of trying to survive before this.
I cried into the moss last night. When I realized that I might actually be safe. For the first time in a long time.
Journal Entry- Oct. 8th 2022
I happened again. The flavour-thing.
I was looking through the pile of gifts, for something else to eat. There’s the almond-fountain, but I don’t know if things go bad here- I figured I should eat the other food first. I wont waste it. And honestly, after years of surviving on water and goop, it’s nice to actually chew on something.
I found more fruit- something apple-ish. I took a chomp.
And it was like the berry. But apple. Overwhelming, full-body apple taste. And another memory. The crab-apple in my neighbour's yard, growing up. It dropped fruit over the fence, into ours. My mother took one once, and cut it open to show me. Look Alicia- see the little seeds? That’s where trees come from. If you plant one of those, it’ll turn into a tree. I remembered her words. I remembered the wonder I felt- that packed into that tiny little thing, was an entire tree.
The thought of my mother, and the tenderness of that memory was too much. Eating this delicious un-apple, knowing my friends in the outpost were starving, was too much. Actually feeling safe was too much. I wailed into my hands.
I’m glad no one came in and saw me spewing apple and snot all over the floor. It doesn’t work to cry with food in your mouth.
Journal Entry- Oct. 14th 2022
I feel a bit better this morning. Not quite as drained, or exhausted as I did before. Like there’s a little spark of the old me.
I didn’t sleep with a weapon last night. The knives on my chest were bugging me, so I unbuckled my webbing and put it aside. And I didn’t keep the Hound-Bat in my hand either. I just curled up in the moss.
This new security is getting to me. Alicia’s going soft.
I decided to change my clothes. I realized just how filthy they were. There were some things to wear, in all the stuff in the room- pants made from some kind of hide, and a woven tunic-thing, dyed several earthy colours. It might have been made from grass. It fit perfectly.
Amazing, how a simple change of clothes can make you feel. I actually caught myself humming a tune, if you can believe it. I’ve been wearing that gear for a month.
The sunlight coming through the window is beckoning to me. There are still no smells here, but the idea of fresh air is appealing. I’ve spent almost another 2 weeks in this room.
If I stare at the floor, I wont see the bodies. Maybe I’ll try to go outside. Do another audio log.
Audio Log 13- 2022-10-14
[Footsteps, wind sounds]
Herne: You look healthier. I wondered how long you would need to sleep.
Scout: JEEZUS! Oh god- I’m sorry! Lord Herne! Have you been sitting here this whole time? Waiting for me?
Herne: No. I have many duties to attend to. Rest assured, though, that others have kept watch in my absence, for your safety. The Hunt are very eager to meet you. They want to show you our home.
[Silence]
Scout: I’m sorry. You’ve been so generous to me. And all I’ve done is sleep.
Herne: Do not apologize. You are not the first to live here- I have seen the toll that these realms take, on your kind. It is remarkable that you survive here at all. A true testament to your power.
[Silence]
Scout: If you don't mind me asking… why have you done all this for me? I don’t mean to question it! I’m very grateful! It’s just, I’m nothing special. I’m not a great person, or anything. I don’t know what I’ve done to… to earn all of this.
Herne: You do not understand who we are. Or the nature of the relationship, that exists between us. The Hunt shower you with gifts because they wish to express their thanks. Everything we have was gifted to us by humanity, and continues to be. We are merely returning your kindness.
Scout: I… don’t understand how that’s possible.
Herne: Nor should you. The last human to whom I explained it went mad. A grievous mistake, for which I will always beg your forgiveness. I will not do the same to you, or any other visitor. All you need to know is that we are a mirror. And that your very presence here is a gift to us.
[Silence]
Herne: If you are feeling humbled, and desire some further reciprocity, there is something I might ask of you.
Scout: What’s that?
Herne: I would like to ask you some questions. I do not get to speak to humans, very often. And there are many things that I am curious about. The Hunt have many occasions planned for you, but I am hoping that as you explore our Grove, you will indulge me in some conversation, from time to time.
Scout: …Of course! Anything you ask of me. [pause] When was the last time you talked to someone?
Herne: There was another, technically, who paid a more recent visit. But he is banished for grave offences, and I do not count him among my guests. The last true guest, to survive the journey here, arrived almost twenty years ago.
Scout: [nervous chuckling] I guess that explains why everyone's so excited.
Herne: Oh, no. That is mistaken. Twenty years is not a long time for our kind- it's a mere flick of a leaf. We have not been waiting long. My hunters are excited because we've had more visitors in the last three-hundred years than in all our long history, combined. They've grown ambitious, and intoxicated, with human presence. As drinking wine encourages more wine.
Scout: So you're addicted to us?
Herne: You underestimate your gifts, human. As I said, everything we have, everything we are, is because of you. Your growth, and creativity, is our growth. Everything you do and say, and imagine, feeds us. You were singing to yourself earlier, were you not?
Scout: Yes…
Herne: What if I told you, that your song this morning gave one of my people a voice? That because you sang this morning, they can now also sing?
------ End of Recording -------
Later- Oct. 14th 2022
Herne wasn’t joking, when he said the Hunt had “occasions” planned for me. It seems I’ve been officially booked on an all-inclusive, celebrity tour of the Grove. And the esteemed roles of tour guide will go to none other than Moss-Cat, Waterfall, and the third guy they were with when they found me- Lizard-person.
After our conversation on the front steps, Herne asked me if I was feeling up to interacting with the Hunt. I said yes, (even though I was still nervous), which prompted Herne to make some sort of snorting noise and summon the three entities. You could tell that they ran to the Lodge as fast as they possibly could. When they arrived, they asked me if I’d eaten well, slept well, dreamed well, every angle of my wellbeing. And they all brought a little gift. More fruit. Waterfall had a large plum-thing, Lizard had a branch dangling with cherries, and Cat, of course, had blackberries.
They insisted that I eat, while they discussed their plans. Between the oddly-tasteless fruit, the discomfort of accepting yet another gift, and wondering how it was possible for this much food to be in the Backrooms (and where they hell they were getting it)- I got distracted and lost track of everything they said. But in essence they laid out a very extensive proposal for all the places they wanted me to visit, all the entities they wanted me to meet, and all the events they wanted me to attend. It did leave me with a general sense of the level. Apparently, this whole place is like a circle divided into four quarters, with the Tree in the middle. Each quarter is a landscape fixed in a different season. (I don’t know how far outwards the quarters go.) Each season has its own resident entities, its own Monarch (though Herne is both the ultimate authority and Summer), its own responsibilities, and its own customs. I’m going to see all of it.
And in and around all this touring, Herne wants to talk to me. He specifically laid out some boundaries- to a very enthusiastic Moss-Cat- so that I would have both time alone and time to spend at the Lodge, in conversation. It’s funny- it’s almost like he wants to study me, as much as I’ve been making subtle notes and observations on him.
I’m trying not to think about all of this, too much. The prospect of everything I’m about to do is daunting. I guess six years of working in a dark, empty basement makes you an introvert, who knew. I’m reminding myself just how lucky I really am, to even be alive. It’s not every day you clipp into a random level, and get sunshine and entities that want to feed you. As opposed to chasing you through it.
But that’s the other thing. I’m still trying to square all of this with the fact that these entities hunt us. I haven’t forgotten whom I'm surrounded by. It makes no sense at all. If what Herne says is true- that we’re responsible for everything they have, and they want to pay us back- then why the hell do they kill us?
I have the rest of the day off. Festivities start tomorrow. I’ve spent an awful lot of time in that bedroom, so I think I’ll wander through the trees around the Lodge for a bit. Clear my head, then rest. I’m going to need it.
There’s also something funny about the trees, that I want to look at. And the grass, growing on the house. I remember- distinctly- that all the grass stalks in the field I entered were the same. Like a cheap video game. But it looks like there’s three different kinds on the roof now, and they definitely weren’t like that last week. Also- on the way out earlier, I thought I saw a birch tree.
