“Life Reaps Death; Death Reaps Life”

Prompt: Harvest

The witless vegetable-sheep bleated panic, straining against rooted umbilical stalks to flee, their cotton-wool blazing with autumn colors. Shepherds frantically sought to calm them with powdered balms, facing the monster despite their terror. The sheep were not ripe enough to risk fatal stalk breaks. The beastfolk village would starve if this crop-herd were lost.
This mindless giant spider was new to this region of Dracora, harrying Mossglen for days. Their usual weapon and magic tactics failed. They were too small for a hunters’ guild, too poor to hire loners. Several villagers lay dead already, drained, or poisoned. This spider had no anti-venom yet.
The hunter came on the 8th day, Mossglen despairing from grief. A battle-scarred, winged lion, armored and bladed, he took no payment but still fought. The battle lasted hours, the spider slain, but the demigod poisoned. Poultices and comfort were all they could offer their wounded savior. There was no mage-healer among them, too isolated to find one in time.
He wouldn’t last the night.
Priests traditionally came for the dead at dusk. Vulture, jackal, raven, clean scented and skull-masked, jeweled in bone and white tattoos. They and other carrion eaters took the bodies into seclusion to free their souls from flesh. This feast was their right, an exception to taboo. Beastfolk did not eat beastfolk. The bones were scorched to cleanse them and returned for burial. Where possible, the pelt was preserved to cloak the returned soul, should they choose to visit on sacred holidays. The fallen hunter received such honor as well.
The villagers left small gifts and sang prayers to guide the souls to the Rainbow Dens, or rebirth if their cycle of three lives was incomplete. More so, they asked for loved ones’ safety from the Maw of Oblivion, which devoured lost dead who strayed from their psychopomp.
When the rites of death were complete, life returned once more. The dead spider was butchered and made use of. Months passed. The ripe vegetable-sheep were reaped and prepared for winter, their cotton-wool warming homes. Mossglen celebrated Equinox Festival in thanks for a saving harvest.